Darrell K Morris - Professional Photographer based in London, UK

“When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford.”
from Boswell’s Life of Johnson

Ah, good Doctor Johnson you are right, well, you are to an extent. Obviously, during Johnson’s time it was probably a wonderful city to explore (it still is). It was at the centre of the world (metaphorically, not literally) in an ever changing and enlightened period in history. And Johnson was the chief chronicler of the time, a kinda Regency blogger of our capital city. No doubt someone has already pointed out that, in the same way as if Dickens was alive now, he’d be writing for Corrie. Then, Johnson would be the true King of Twitter and not Stephen Fry. Whats that you say? He is on Twitter…. Well, there you go. Trouble is Johnson NEVER had to cope with what we have now.  A city that (at its centre anyway) has given way to generic high street brands, tourist tat, a weekly shut down of specific area’s of the city by the Police in the name of public safety, while denying the right of lawful protest and on top of that a constant stream of delayed and over running building projects. You do have to wonder what he would have made of the large amount of Garfunkel restaurants and Cool Brittania. This small rant at my adopted city, stems from what was a really horrible week. Have you ever had one of those weeks when it seems that just everything will go wrong?  Well, I’m sure that in other places you can find some space where you can think and take stock. Sadly, in central London this isn’t the case and you find yourself buffeted around like a pinball if you let yourself be. Me being me, instead was inspired by the  Radio 4 presenters James Naughtie and Andrew Marr whose liberal use of the C-word last Monday, led me to use it frequently at a number of random insensitive souls. Most notably the night I struggled up the Strand trying to balance twenty five hardback books, against the wind, rain and multitude of blank faced people who were blind to my situation. Followed by the person (loosest sense of the word) who ignored my plea to take a box from me before I dropped it, and then happily smirked when I eventually did. The ensuing clatter of cardboard and books on the pavement, and my very audible expletive laden protest didn’t go unnoticed. A small man headed back towards me with a consoling look. It wasn’t until he had swept up all the books and complained about ‘this town being full of miserable bastards’ that I realised it was Lee Evans who had been my saviour. Possibly, he saw a little bit of slapstick in my over-the-top performance, who knows? But, it was certainly a turning point.

What helped change my mood once more was meeting some of the lovely people, who live in my new borough (I refuse to say hood and definitely not crib for what is in all seriousness a studio flat) in Brockley. Which, as you may have guessed from its name is taken from the woody glade variety that the lovely little creatures are known to inhabit. For those of you that are not in the know or don’t follow me on twitter, I moved here nearly six weeks ago. To be honest, I had been in love with the area for sometime and I eventually found a place that I hope will be my home for quite a while. What certainly helps is being in a community where you seem to be surrounded by fellow artists and creatives. From Mercury prize nominated musicians to Art students at the world renowned Goldsmiths College just up the road and with just about everyone else in between there is a good chance you are going to meet up with someone who you can collaborate with, discuss idea’s, projects, exhibitions. All this culminated on Saturday as I met my local public and I tried to shift some of my ever expanding portfolio. I met and drank wine and ate mince pies with total strangers, people who I had only ever known as a small avatar on a screen in the corner of my twitter page and the odd friend. What seemed quite poignant at the time and resonated for a couple of days later was the discussions I had with a couple of people regarding the area. When someone is so positive about their community and what they do to continue improving it, it becomes very infectious. When this busy Christmas period is finally over, I shall be happily preparing to help out in my new community and maybe just start to think about ‘putting down some roots’. Who knows?  Possibly, I have finally found a place to call home. So, I raise a glass and salute what could be the best of times.

It’s been two months, seven days, six hours and twelve minutes (that’s just a rough estimate) since my last post. My name is Darrell K Morris and I am addicted to Twitter or to be more precise TweetDeck. Way back when I was a complete Twitter novice and simply posted any old rubbish (I don’t think much has probably changed) I was a luddite to all the various applications and add-ons. For the first couple of months, I was wondering why nobody (even people I knew) weren’t replying to my tweets, until I discovered that I needed to click onto  *mentions* and found a dispirit bunch of people from various parts of the globe, that found some interest in what I *tweeted*. So, when I found how to use Tweetdeck, that was it I was enslaved to the chirp of a small animated bird, whenever someone I followed tweeted. Worst still, if they are one of those prolific types or the kind of twitter sadist who has to be involved in every word or anagram orientated #hashtag imaginable ( I’m not pointing any fingers, you know who are ) I was caught within the madness of chirps and tweets. Mornings, afternoon or evenings, when I should have been working on projects and proposals have been lost to the sound of a tweeting bird or of trying to think of something enigmatic, witty or cool to tweet in reply to someone I follow or admire from afar. But, no  more of this. I may even dump the tweetdeck and go back to old school inter-web. Twitter I am not you’re slave anymore.

In photo news (yes I do still take the odd snap) Since I last posted, I have finished a month long show in East Dulwich, had a group show in Ladywell and have now started (what will be) the long and arduous process of working through nearly a thousand new images and trying to put together at least one project together for an exhibition next year, before starting on several other idea’s too. The trouble is finding a level of originality. Having already gone through the process of shooting and editing the start of one project, I found that another photographer had also taken and had already had their work published in The Guardian . And although both of our projects come from different points of view and angled in different ways and within different photographic genres, most photo editors will see the published work and reject my project on sight, which sadly is the way of the modern day freelance. For the time being you’ll just have to believe me, that my project also deserves an audience. For the last few months of this year, do look out for my appearance at a number of art fairs, christmas markets, maybe a group show and hopefully one more solo show.  I’ll be back soon…  Maybe…

So, that’s it. The first two weeks of my month-long exhibition in East Dulwich (or is that East DullWitch?) are finally over, and this Thursday evening I was frantically putting the final touches to the mid-way changeover of the show. At the time I was so busy cleaning frames, trying to get every dust mark off every print, patiently waiting for customers to stop working on laptops / Blackberry’s / Ipods and finish drinks, cakes etc.. and finally make sure (at the 100th time of asking) that each print sat level on the wall and that I had the correct set-list and order to the work, that it wasn’t until I was sat on the bus back home, trying to prop up a large Victorian frame (that houses the image that you see to the left in this post) that I realized that I had come to an end of an era in my photographic career.

If you read the previous post  you’ll know that the new show is all about saying goodbye to some older work, and introducing a completely new portfolio of works, which I have now finally done.  And as the work went up on Thursday evening, I could step back and look at a completely new portfolio, that has never seen the light of day before, and range (age wise) from an image that was taken nearly a year ago, to an image that was taken just six days before the show went up (which you can see at the bottom of this post). My initial idea to shoot images up until hours before the show went up, I now see was being wildly ambitious and would have ended up with me literally in a state of nervous exhaustion, if I had tried to carry out my insane plan.  Instead I have at least played safe in the way that I have put on a ‘traditional’ show, instead of literally sticking up a plethora of images (shot over a few days) on a wall space. And, I have just about been able to keep it together, and for once I haven’t resorted to emailing or phoning friends and loved ones with various proclamations of my imminent retirement from photography or letting them know that if they see a skip anywhere around South-East London, please do check them for possibly discarded blurry monochrome images.

No, I am satisfied (yes, literally) and happy with the work, that has gone up and despite reservations about mixing colour and monochrome I think it works well. What has been particularly exciting is too see the new digital work I have taken and is now being exhibited (just weeks after me clicking a shutter). Instead, of impeding my creativity, I think it has helped and made me value an image even more and lead me to take more risks with my work, and after another Nikon FM breaking down (following having one nicked at Christmas) the time may have come to go all digital. Added with the putting away of the old portfolio, everything is all feeling very new and exciting and with a couple of new projects under way, it could just become groovy times once more. If, you haven’t had chance to see the show, you can view it on my Twitter page. Just skip through the load of old bollocks I usually tweet, and go to any tweets that start with Photo Of The Day from the last couple of weeks for selected images. And here’s my newest exhibited work. entitled Imperfect Love. Is that a bit pretentious sounding? It’s better than Untitled No47, isn’t it?

Or if you have never been, then come along to East Dulwich (or as my Grandad used to call it – East Dull-Witch) over the next month, for my new show. Hopefully, I haven’t gone down too a pretentious route with the title, but it hopefully covers what the new show is all about, which is saying Goodbye to some older works and showcasing some new works and adding a much needed bit of colour after a plethora of shows and art events where there has been a whole lot of monochrome. So, the first two weeks (Friday June 18th to Thursday July 1st) start with a grainy view across Westminster Bridge to the London Eye via a man with an umbrella to an equally grainy bridge in an until now unnamed location, which was confused yesterday, as among others Chiswick, Richmond and Prague, but is a little closer to my old hometown. Throw-in an Abstract image of the Eiffel Tower, James Dean, a Reflection, a bit of Reportage and some works from my Speakers Corner portfolio and voila!! You have a mini exhibition and it’s up now at the Blue Mountain Wine Bar which is by day – a lovely little cafe/coffee house and now by night a sweet little wine bar off the main drag that is Lordship Lane and it’s assault course of middle-class Mum’s and flotillas of Bugaboo’s.

But, after tonight and a possibly pretty quiet private view (who scheduled England to play Algeria on the same night?) that is when the hard work starts. As in a completely foolhardy moment, I have decided to produce a second show to go up two weeks later, with a new portfolio of all-new work, that hasn’t been seen before, unless you’re one of those unfortunate souls to be plagued by attachments in their inbox from me, asking for validation of a new grainy and currently usually Abstract image. If you follow me on Twitter then you’ll know that I have finally hooked up with this new fangled Digital camera thing. I have flirted briefly with the medium in the past, but I think I may have finally found ”the one” which I know sounds a little bit weird, as I am talking about a camera and not someone to share my life with. But, I am officially excited by the prospect of shooting a load of new work digitally, especially as my new Olympus has a brilliant Grainy Film filter setting (see above image) and you can expect to see a lot more of this to come in the near future. If all things go to plan over the next ten days, I’ll have in place a whole set of works and the first exhibition (unless the whole portfolio sells) will be consigned to a series of stamped portfolio boxes and placed carefully underneath my bed, never to see the light of day again, a bit like the end of Raiders Of The Lost Ark, but lacking any kind of Wrath Of God.

So, if Football isn’t you’re thing, do come along tonight (from 6p.m. onwards) and see the show. Otherwise, despite me racing around London and area’s of Southern England over the next two weeks, I will be free on occasion to meet up with people if they would like a personal view of the work , over an all-day veggie breakfast, tea and cake or an evening aperitif (delete as applicable). And hopefully in a couple of weeks time, I shall have a small intimate celebration of a new direction and a new portfolio… I hope to see you all there.

P.S. – I really do hate to talk about my charity work… But, 20% of all sales from the exhibition and through the website for the next month, will be donated to Save The Children

So, is this an image of  (A) – a former socialist South American country (B) - a late (as in dead) Spanish Catalan surrealist artist (C) –  The Chap columnist and general cad about town (if you live in Brighton) Micheal ‘Atters’ Attree or (D) – None of the above.

If you answered (A) – I am seriously worried about you’re mental health (B) – If you actually thought I spent a period of my childhood or early teens photographing Salvador Dali like some kinda photo version of a child prodigy, then thank you or (D) – you just simply couldn’t be arsed…. Then believe it or not you are all wrong.

If on the other hand, you answered (C) then Hurrah! you would be right, well done and you can see a much less obscured version of the print here  and yes that was a question I was asked at a private view on Friday evening – Obviously not – Is that El Salvador…? But – Is that Salvador Dali…? Well, I think that it was a genuine question, it was early in the evening and the boxes of red wine had hardly started to flow yet. For those not in the know  my print is currently in competition and on show at the Tea Leaf Arts  gallery in conjunction with this years Brockley Max arts festival, which celebrates all that is good in the local art scene in this sweet little corner of South East London. For those of you who are a little snobby about venturing somewhere that is in close proximity to Lewisham and Catford (yes I know who you are)  please think again as you are missing out on a fantastic little festival and a really good group show, where you could help me win a two week exhibition and gain my eternal gratitude.

This is the first ‘Competitive’ group exhibition I have done in years and it’s really changed, though I think it may have something to do with the location. Back in the good old days, when I was starting out and I submitted work to group shows in Shropshire, my main competition would be a group of sweet old ladies who had almost as a rule all produced an identikit watercolour of the Shropshire Hills and it  almost became a rule that I turned up with my work and wait for the cheque, a bit like a old school Tory MP turning up at their count on election night expecting to be re-elected.

 But, as I made my way around the exhibition on Friday, glass of red in one hand and new shiny Olympus Pen in the other, among the heads tilted to one side as people viewed the works and I heard the word evocative being used over and over, I came to the conclusion this is completely different. Firstly, there is a distinct lack of watercolours from old ladies, secondly it’s art work of a really good standard and I don’t have the novelty of being the only photographer in the show. But, more importantly the winner will be determined by a public vote. And although I have a great deal of faith in the good people of Brockley to help me gain another exhibition, should I be out there canvassing the vote? Or if it gets really desperate will I be found stalking the platforms of Brockley station accosting passengers from the new East London Line trains with small packages of notes in brown paper envelopes in favour for some votes or if worst comes to the worst, even multiple votes by myself (Btw – I’m No 32). For now I shall not panic and hope that in twelve days time, Brockley shall be getting an extended viewing of my work… They deserve it.

Well, I don’t know how we got from this Election (maybe) becoming the Best Election Ever (in modern history anyway) but this is where we are and I have to say I feel immensely dispirited by it all. For all the talk of a hung parliament, this was probably something I hadn’t seriously contemplated and I’m sure there are many out there with left leaning political views (and Liberal Democrat voters) who will be feeling equally dispirited by this situation. Just over three weeks ago (after the first debate) I was excitedly espousing about the chance of the country ending up at this election as a three-way fight and pushing along the notion that Nick Clegg could become a spearhead for political change. But, this wasn’t just me (and many other bloggers and dispirited former Labour voters) hoping for a bit of change. Even, what is left of the Liberal press here in the U.K. were getting all flustered by Cleggmania and The Guardian even went as far to mimic the Obama Hope poster, replacing the POTUS with a Liberal leader half the country hadn’t even heard of a week before and I still wonder what Clegg actually did to get  The Guardian to endorse them. Which brings me to the important question if the Guardian’s editor Alan Rusbridger can get it wrong on the political side, how about his glowing endorsement of new Apple Ipad? Am I to take him by his word once more and end up disappointed?

I certainly wouldn’t want to use this post to say - I told you so. I for one was seduced enough for a (very short time) to have the Clegg/Obama poster as an avatar on Facebook. But, by time I found out that Clegg’s Liberal credentials were tainted by his interview with The Spectator where he paid tribute to Thatcher’s crushing of the Unions (though no mention of the many miners who lost their livelihoods) and on points where he believed he could ‘work with Cameron’ on certain issues, my suspicions had been raised. No amount of photo ops with his lovely wife, or slightly creepily his now doppelganger Colin Firth who has always come across as something of a stereotypical wishy-washy Liberal could change my mind. If beforehand I had seen that Annie Lennox had been campaigning with him too, I think I would have publicly endorsed anyone NOT to vote Lib Dem. When I finally went to bed on Election night, after a sudden surge of Tory gains, feeling I would be waking to Cameron doing his Thatcher ’79 acceptance speech outside No10, I was pleasantly surprised to find Supreme Leader Broon was still hanging on (as I had dreamt he was having to be prised from clinging onto the front door). Surely, Nick couldn’t let an opportunity to maybe even head a progressive coalition Government? But, sadly he didn’t…

Instead, he was seduced by Cameron’s overtures which despite the early push for ‘progressive’ bills (ie ID Cards, Heathrow) I am still immensely sceptical about it. For all the posturing for a ‘New Politics’ which seems a bit too close to New Labour and looks more like a nod to populism, instead of any genuine ideology, which seems to really make Cameron and Clegg a match made in heaven. What became apparent from the final two debates was a closer link between the two of them as they went along the more you saw Brown truly believing what he was saying ,despite being at the heart of the New Labour machine for over a decade, the old social reformer seemed to be coming to the fore. While Camegg, Morecambe and Wise, Ant and Dec, Jeeves and Wooster call them what you will, seemed to be fine when they were ‘On message’ and come across as the perfect political salesman for a brighter, better future for you. But, both of them seem to be no more than a marketing teams wet dream. Where is the passion, conviction and more importantly ideology from these two? Now we have a political landscape that is so crowded at it’s centre with leaders who seem to be scared to give any real opinion for fear of scaring the general public or maybe more importantly after this election cycle upsetting the right-wing press. So, for now we have a partnership between two ineffectual public school boys who seem to be bereft of any ideology or true political beliefs. And if the Labour Party decides to go with David Milliband I would be fear for mainstream politics in this country. Things Can Only Get Better – still seems so apt, but maybe we should change it to something a little bit more M-O-R.

Overaahhhh… Apologies, to the late great Roy Orbison by using his wonderfully heartfelt and evocative lyric/s on such a spurious blog post, which brings us full circle on what was the reign of the party that was known as New Labour. Tonight, as I made my way home on the No3 bus, I mulled over this likely being the last time I’ll make this journey home along Whitehall and Parliament with Comrade Broon at it’s helm. As I made my way past Brian Haws and his hardy group of Anti-War demonstrators by Parliament Square to Westminster Green, which will inside the next 24 hours turn into Spin Alley or maybe green once more amidst the tented homes of the world’s television crews. The lone piper that had been playing his sad refrain outside Charing Cross station, seemed to be the perfect analogy to what is about to become the death throes of a Labour Government and a million miles away from the jubilant scenes down the road at Millbank thirteen years earlier.

All those years ago, I remember (slightly shamefully now) that there was a great deal of hope that Tony Blair was going to be at the forefront of pushing through a progressive manifesto on the back of a sweeping election night victory, that washed away a corrupt and ineffectual government that had been finished five years earlier, but due to the scaremongering tactics of  The Sun and Neil Kinnock’s all-singing and all-dancing premature victory rally in Sheffield meant we would have to wait to get rid of the Tories. Not even the promise of Phil Collins leaving the country in the wake of Kinnock entering No10 was enough for the Great British people. So, we waited and in late April and early May 1997 I was given the task of documenting the Labour campaign in my hometown on Shrewsbury. It seemed to be of no consequence that I had only picked a camera in anger for the first time a few months before and I had no experience whatsoever. I had shown a bit of interest in documenting a election campaign (it could have been the Lib Dems if they had been in touch sooner) and they probably thought they could get some free publicity. I was then a hopelessly naive young student about to start my photo career (imagine a more clean cut uglier Ian Brown with Andrew Marr’s ears, but minus the drugs, Strangeways and threats to Air Hostesses) with a battered old second-hand camera, which is now third-hand and even made an appearance once more earlier this year. I got to document the historic moment when Shrewsbury turned from blue to red (for the first and still only time) as Paul Marsden defeated old school Tory cad Derek Conway followed by the demise of Portillo and Mellor and viewing bleary eyed and rather drunkely  Blair’s ‘New Dawn’ speech as the sun rose over London.

Sadly, all these years on I can only see a reverse of what happened back in 1997 and the Blair-Lite candidate that is David Cameron and his New Conservatives (with infant drawn tree logo) are about to take hold of political power (with or without the help of the Lib Dems). Despite the result, hopefully this election will see the Lib Dems become a valid political force and no longer just a protest vote and that the Labour party shall drop the new, grow up and give up on the Blairist vision for the party once and for all and return to it’s roots. Throw in the possible victories for the Greens in Brighton, Norwich and down the road in Lewisham and Depford and I’ll be smiling.

So, today instead I shall be off viewing some artist studios around South East London and then making my over to Barking, where whatever happens nationally could be if not overshadowed at least marred by the unthinkable BNP victory. So, if you have had enough of politicians instead maybe go and make you’re views known to the non-politician Richard Barnbrook who could enter parliament on a manifesto of hate and ignorance, which would be even worse than a Tory government. Things can only better, indeed.

Best British election ever? As the clock slowly turned around to the 6th of April and the inevitable was finally announced, many bookmakers would have given you some pretty generous odds on the statement above. And the opening days of the campaign saw an apparent  apathy from the politicians themselves, that has been mirrored by the nation over the last few years of this Parliament. Even the manifesto launches seemed so low-key, that you wondered if the party leaders had cobbled together a few half-arsed idea’s on the back of a fag packet as the landlord shouted ‘Last Orders’. What mainstream politics seems to now lack alongside any real idealism and policy, is also a complete lack of confidence in what you are talking about. It wasn’t until we at least got to meet the chancellors and the words ‘Hung Parliament’ was used for the hundredth time, that I finally started to take any notice.

As a self-confessed political junkie, this was an extremely bad sign and I still was struggling to get excited even by the ever narrowing opinion polls. But, after a whole host of scandals from moats and duck ponds to the woeful rise of the BNP, through the local and European election system, British politics had left me jaded and questioning where my vote would go? And coming off being completely immersed in an wonderfully dramatic U.S. election, which took in an enduring eleven month campaign (minus a short summer recess). I wondered if Broon, Lord Snooty and Whats-His-Face could sustain my interest for a fortnight, let alone an entire month? But, Hey call me a hopeless romantic if you will and I don’t really mind if you do. But, the Clegg Factor and the subsequent (at present sustained) Lib Dem poll surge and the now very real factor that a hung Parliament could become reality has awoken me to this election. Don’t get me wrong, the old adage – A week is a long time in politics – Rings even truer during election campaigns and possibly the Lib Dems have peaked too early and years from now we will look at one another slightly shamefaced, that we were getting so excited about a party leader who’s main selling points are to look and sound like a human being, the ability to debate with one hand in his pocket and tut loudly when he doesn’t agree with something Broon or Snooty says. Clegg as our very own Obama, is something we’ll have to wait and see and for now just enjoy having that brilliant Shepard Fairey inspired Guardian poster hanging over the mantelpiece, front window etc…

But, what of the parties and their intentions. For Labour surely just holding on to what is left of their shattered reputation and a modicum of power seems to be the ambition. Whatever happens, I hope we have finally got to the stage where we can put the New Labour experiment firmly behind us. Recently, seeing an old Newsnight interview from 1997 I was shocked to see Blair back in full demonic mode and eager to please, but with just a hint of the disdain, he sadly showed to all during his appearance at the Iraq inquiry. It showed me how desperate we must have felt for a change of government back then (at any cost). For the Tories, see Labour circa 1997 and their willingness to try and appeal to all through their ‘Big Society’ rings hollow. A return to power seems scary to me and the addition of the most recent campaign poster, fills me with dread. Like a Doctor Who Christmas Day episode, I envision the moment David Dimbleby announces a Tory victory, every  Tory MP will rip off their face to expose a Thatcher clone, that will make a planet full of cloned versions of John Simm’s The Master look like something of a relief. For the Lib Dems, the excitement comes from the rather exotic notion that they are the mysterious party we know little of (unless you read a broadsheet) and we have only just discovered who their leader is and hey, what have we got too lose…? Can they finally go from stereotypical protest vote and by-election favourites to serious contenders? Sadly, the usual elements of our Great British press are wishing to pour scorn on the (possible) Lib Dem breakthrough. After, endlessly banging on about electoral reform and clearing out parliament, the Sun, Mail and Telegraph have now thrown a strop over a party, that could break the Lab/Con monopoly. This was always likely to be the case (unless the breakthrough party was UKIP) as the Lib Dems having nothing to offer an insular and narrow-minded editorial at any of these papers. They simply don’t make good copy for they’re policies, which is why we’ll see some pretty spurious and lurid headlines over the next two weeks (Clegg’s Nazi Slur, anyone?) Which, surely gives us the opportunity to actually take away the influence of the main parties at this election and the mainstream media that keeps these institutions in their place.

The real excitement surely comes from the hope, that the country might finally be turning from a two to a three-party state. As much as we go on about American politics being polarised by a left and right spilt, we are in the very same situation and the first-past-the-post system gives us an equally narrow political system heavily in favour of either red and blue. I personally hope that we do have a hung Parliament. If on May 7th we wake up (or in my case, stagger around after an hours sleep in 48) to a new political dawn, where a major overall of our political and parliamentary system is required, I’d be more than happy, even if it’s just to piss off the Tories and their sense of entitlement to rule over us, once more. But, more importantly we finally have a third party that can make significant gains nationally and finally have their voice heard across the country through parliament and the mainstream press. In the immortal words of David Steele – Lib Dems, Go back to you’re constituencies and prepare for Government. With two weeks to go, Who Knows…?

Read, week, month, year and maybe ever. For those who know me or follow me over at Twitter you’ll realise that I have become slightly obsessed with my tweetdeck, which for those not in the know frantically tweets all that comes from those who I follow (and is probably the reason I am not blogging so much). That I wrote 140 characters that resulted in Graham Linehan or aka @glinner (creator of Father Ted, Black Books and IT Crowd) to leave me a smiley emoticon to one of my re tweets is something to tell the non-existent grand kids. Gist of it includes – Richard Dawkins, Pope, Fight, Trafalgar Square, Paedophile Priests, Fundamentalist Christians, Muslims and Atheists. Yeah, I know small things, eh?

Oh yes, and even if unlike me you have little interest in U.S. politics or you usually completely zone out during the news when American stories come on. It’s unlikely that you could have missed over the last year, that the whole country has been divided by the subject of universal health care, something akin sadly to a new civil war, if the more sensationalist area’s of the American media are to be believed.

But, last night (at long last) history was made and where Teddy Roosevelt, Bill Clinton and erm, Richard Nixon failed, Barack Obama succeeded by passing (if albeit a watered down Health care reform bill) that will give coverage to 95% of his nation. Now, from our occasionally lovely island where (of course we moan) but still enjoy the benefits of free health care, you may say well whats the big deal?

But, I would have to say, Yes this is a massive deal. For one the monopoly has been broken that saw pharmaceuticals, political lobbyists, politicians, insurance companies and big business play around with the health of the entire nation, while they tried to make a quick buck. Secondly, and most definitely more importantly it will hopefully see the end to a horrible practice that seems to view a patient more as a commodity than a human being (and a gravely ill human being at that) and even if its one person that is saved from an undignified exit from this earth in a hospital corridor or outside the doors of an emergency room, because they don’t have the necessary insurance coverage.

From a personal point of view,  finally at last this was the ‘West Wing Moment’ that every dyed in the wool wet liberal blogger had been craving since November 2008 and it had been a long, long wait. And those nights of lost sleep, becoming ill with nerves / worry / excitement, watching CNN and MSNBC, endlessly checking Huffington Post , Bob Cesca , various polling sites and my personal fave England For Obama seem to be finally fulfilled. I was tempted to bring out the buttons/badges today and would have proudly been writing with my Michelle Obama First lady pen as I frantically wrote down project notes on my way to work this morning, if some robbing bastard hadn’t stolen it (and a camera) on Christmas Eve.  I must admit, I was becoming exasperated at the constant rhetoric of bipartisanship and working with our rivals. There is surely only so far you can go with an opposition that is like a petulant child in the playground who refuses to share their marbles / panini football stickers / pokemon cards / crack cocaine (depending on your school generation) and it’s surely time for Barack to put away his copy of Doris Kearns Goodwin’s excellent book Team Of Rivals and take control oft his presidency once and for all.  And finally and rather selflessly it just pissed off so many on the extremely vocal and rabid right-wing of American politics that have used that horrible McCarthyite / Hoover tactic of using the word Socialism as a means to be something that is UnAmerican and Unpatriotic. The shameless exploitation of this by the Republicans over the last few months has been shocking, if not unexpected. And they’re pandering to an increasingly ill-informed and ignorant branch of right-wing fanatics in the form of the Tea Party (not as twee as they sound) whose racist and homophobic abuse of Democratic senators and congressmen over the weekend, showed their true colours as petty thugs and not the true patriots they claim to be. This now has to be exposed by the national media, especially when this is the outcome to their defeat across the mainstream right-wing blogosphere. Nice to see informed political debate ain’t dead, eh?
 

“I’m spitin’ mad now so I’ll just say a big fat FUCK YOU! to Obama and all the other evil asshat progressives trying to take down this nation! We will fight you at the ballot box and in the streets if we have too. You will live to regret this treason!”
– RobCdA

(A tip of my hat goes to Chez Paziena for the quote, taken from his wonderful blog)

Sorry, but I can’t let the wonderfully eloquent RobCdA have the last word on this. Instead, I shall leave it to former Labour health minister and creator of the National Health Service Aneurin Bevan who proclaimed in his book Place Of Fear -

The collective principle asserts that… no society can legitimately call itself civilised if a sick person is denied medical aid because of lack of means.

Mr President – Mr Bevan / President Bartlet / Jefferson Smith would have been proud.