The Tiny Frog -- by Samuel Mack-Poole.

The Tiny Frog:

I will never forget that quaint memory:
Boldly walking with my innocent zest,
Merely five years old and keen to impress
My dad and granddad whom were close to me,
In those Bostall Woods with their rare beauty;
As elegant as Venus' bare breast,
And as potent with life as a bees nest --
An army of tiny frogs jumped zealously
Towards me; my dad quickly picked one up
And put it in my eagerly cupped hands.
It jumped and jumped with life and dumb vigour.
In the dark of that flesh and boney cup,
Its will to escape exceeded that of man:
That's why its one of nature's winners.

The Dove by Samuel Mack-Poole.

The Dove by Samuel Mack-Poole.

On a sunny Cypriot summer morn,
I was greeted by a thing of beauty.
My quiet, quaint balcony was adorned;
To describe it is a joyous duty:
Humble in its nature, peaceful and pure,
That ivory bird; a symbol of love!
I have never been close to one before --
A gracious and vulnerable dove.
It was a moment I wanted to share,
So my dear wife and daughter could espy,
Something truly radiant and all too rare --
A sight to bring a tear to one's eye.
The direction it flew had levity:
A sign of my manifest destiny?

The Robin By Samuel Mack-Poole.

The Robin:

At the first sight of blossom, and the cheery sunshine of Spring,

I saw quite a profound, special little thing.

A delightful robin, beautiful and sweet,

Flying and fluttering before landing on its feet.

But, you see, as it landed, it cocked its tiny head,

And fixed its eyes towards me, its breast gleaming red.

I felt we shared a moment, between bird and man --

But it lasted but a two second span.

Off it flew once more, unto the azure sky.

Yet it was moment I won't forget until I die.

You see, I had a singular feeling on the day of Spring sunshine:

I saw before me the creation of God, and it was utterly divine.

To witness the beauty of the most high,

Cannot leave a man unaffected, nor his eye to be dry.

An Honest Book Review of The Man In The High Castle By Samuel Mack-Poole

An Honest Book Review of The Man In The High Castle

By Samuel Mack-Poole

When I picked up my Kindle to read this novel, I must confess that I experienced a high degree of anticipation. After all, I am a self-confessed science fiction fanatic (Star Trek, Wars, Doctor Who, The Matrix...you name it, I’ve obsessed over it). Nonetheless, my anticipation was, if we apply Kant’s schematica to the situation, of a far higher order: I have watched the Amazon Original series of the same title, and I am a huge fan of Blade Runner, and its loosely inspired novel Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep?

So, let me cut to the proverbial chase; did it live up to the hype? My answer would have to be this: does Mario hold magic mushrooms? Holy moly, Batman! This novel kicked more ass than Bruce Lee and Ip Man combined. If this novel was a woman, I would propose faster than Romeo. Thus, the question which should be burning in your mind is this: why did it live up to the hype?

Let me elaborate fully. The entire premise of the novel will appeal to anyone’s inner nerd. Philip K Dick has set the novel in a dystopian alternate reality, where Germany and Japan (in essence, the Axis powers) were victorious in World War Two. Now if that’s not arousing your geeky sensibilities, Dick has set the novel in the 1960s, in which both powers have recovered from the damaging conflict, and have now set their eyes upon each other as potential enemies. They’ve divided America between them, with a buffer zone in the middle. Thus, friendly relations are a pretence, and a cold war situation has been established. This means that the novel is part what if history, part spy thriller, and part science-fiction – a combination which is even more dynamic than South Park’s ManBearPig (I’m super serial, guys).

So – where’s the science-fiction element? Oddly, it is referenced by many characters, but it isn’t fully embraced. The Nazis have developed their rocket technology to amazing levels, so that interplanetary flight has been achieved. There are no ray guns, no little green men, and no blob monsters in this novel. This makes the novel far more mainstream in its appeal, as the human concerns and culture clashes are far more developed in this Philip K Dick novel than many of his other more traditional science-fiction pieces.

Indeed, it is Dick’s careful examination of Japanese etiquette – which is notoriously complex, ornate and delicate – which makes this novel a rousing success. The narrative voice of Robert Childan, a white American antiques merchant, encapsulates his profound desperation to assimilate within a dominant culture which is alien to his own sensibilities. This juxtaposes quite interestingly with ethnic minority cultures within the UK today, especially with regard to the black diaspora which has been forced to assimilate. In this novel, the jackboot is on the other foot (a very curious experience as a white western man), and Dick’s skill as a writer is never stronger than when crafting the dilemmas he faces.

Furthermore, Dick’s excellent understanding of Japanese culture is further expounded upon when he manages to interweave the salience of the I Ching (although this is Chinese in origin, it has had a weighty impact upon Japanese culture) into the daily lives of a variety of characters whether Japanese or American. The many references made to the hexagrams and the divination involved in the I Ching helps the reader to both garner an understanding of Eastern philosophy and theology, but also to fully comprehend the dominance of the Japanese imperial forces in the P.S.A – the Pacific States of America.

You may be wondering what is happening in the German occupied states of the USA. Well, the truth is that we just don’t know. Most of the action takes place in San Francicso, which is within the P.S.A, and in the buffer zone, too. Nonetheless, what we do learn of global Nazi hegemony is that unspeakable acts have occurred (quelle surprise). The African continent has been eradicated of its indigenous population, a product of the Nazi’s fundamental and zealous attitudes towards race. They’ve also drained the Mediterranean Sea to create more Lebensraum, and Russia as we know it no longer exists, aside from a few tribes on horseback in Siberia.

The Germans are depicted to be the more evil of the two civilisations, but they’ve also got the technological edge with their rockets, and their hydrogen bombs.  It fosters an odd attachment to the more spiritual and benign Japanese, who seem content to educate the natives with their extremely sophisticated etiquette.

Another strength of the novel is the fact that there are frequent references to The Grasshopper Lies Heavy – a novel within a novel, which is very novel (forgive the word play, I can resist anything but temptation). What’s especially interesting about this fact is that it almost breaks the fourth wall. The Grasshopper Lies Heavy is a what if historical novel, based on events in an alternate reality within The Man In The High Castle, where the Allies won World War Two. However, before you start even thinking along the wrong lines, the Allied victory isn’t our reality. The British and the Americans become the two world powers, with Churchill’s strong leadership ensuring that Blighty wins the cold war between the two capitalist and democratic powers.

The impact of The Grasshopper Lies Heavy, without giving away too much, couldn’t be more salient. Much of The Man In The High Castle is concerned with it, and the fact it has been banned by the Nazis adds to its obvious pastiche. The pursuit of its author, Abendsen, by Juliana Frink and Joe Cinnadella (two key characters within MITHC) reaches a mighty conclusion.

In brief, I have been utterly fascinated by this novel. Sure, there are certain weaknesses to it, not least in some of the action scenes, but this piece of literature is thoroughly engrossing. I would give it a full five stars, and if you don’t read this novel, then you’re the one missing out. 

An honest book review of Friedrich Nietzsche’s Genealogy of Morals:

An honest book review of Friedrich Nietzsche’s Genealogy of Morals:

By Samuel Mack-Poole

Under the star-filled sky of Cyprus, I read Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche’s (a famous German philosopher, 1844-1900, whom proclaimed “God is dead”) passionate investigation into the historical origin of morality. Nietzsche is one of, if not the most, famous philosophers in the cultural zeitgeist of the West because of his fierce criticism of our Judeo-Christian heritage; he is one of my favourite philosophers due to his exquisite, and often intricate, writing style. He is almost poetical and often aphoristic; thus, his writing does not lend itself to the common man (and he did not intend his philosophy to be read by a mere plebeian, either).

Although I find much of what Nietzsche states objectionable, his eloquence is never in doubt. I have written about another work of his before – Beyond Good and Evil for The Philosophy Takeaway – and I don’t doubt that I shall also review Thus Spoke Zarathustra at some point in the future. What is beautiful deserves to be investigated, after all.

The Genealogy of Morals (hereafter shortened to the acronym GOM) is comprised of a preface and three essays, and each essay is itself reduced into intellectually digestible slithers and chunks (and are numbered).  This makes the weighty content easier to comprehend, and it is the one favour which Nietzsche affords the reader in this regard.

The preface is more or less a bond between his previous work (Human, All-Too-Human) and GOM. However, Nietzsche enticingly adds that his thoughts on the topic of the “origin of human prejudices” have ripened, become more coherent, rational and bolder – and thus has evolved, just as he thinks morality has.

The three essays are titled Good and Evil, Good and Bad, Guilt, bad conscience and the like and What is the meaning of ascetic ideals? respectively.  As this essay will only number a mere thousand words,  I cannot analyse the true depth of his work, but perhaps by analysing a quote of his from each essay, I could perhaps give you a glimpse of his abyss (but don’t let that glimpse become a stare).

“To demand from strength that it does not express itself as strength, that it does not consist of a will to overpower, a will to throw down, a will to rule, a thirst for enemies and opposition and triumph, is just as unreasonable as to demand from weakness that it express itself as strength.”  -- First essay, Section 13.

One of Nietzsche’s major complaints was about the form of morality permeating through Germany, and the wider Western nations, in the 1800s was that it was, in essence, weak. He despised its averageness. Nietzsche’s view of relatively early human history was that there were various races in Europe, but that a blond haired, blue-eyed savage tribe – the Aryans – dominated the rest and imprinted its ethos in the nature of their descendants’ characters.

This, for him, was all to the good. However, Christianity reared its ugly head, rich in blood sacrifice, and changed the essence of human conduct in Europe. Nietzsche was an avowed atheist, and one of Christianity’s most fierce critics. Whilst many Christians bristle at the mention of his name, his criticism of their religion is due to the consequences of it for the human condition, rather than its twisted theology.

Nietzsche feels that Christianity is a denial of the stronger human instincts – the urge to conquer, to dominate and create empires are what he values as true greatness --  and that its charitable ethos makes its adherents a flabby, meek mess, intent on being utterly average. In Christianity Nietzsche senses something egalitarian and he vehemently despises it. Although humans are more equal, he would argue that true greatness is diminished.

This holds some truth when applied to elitism within education, as genius should be allowed to flourish. Nonetheless, as a socialist, I disagree with his conclusion, if applied blindly – it seems to assert that power should be sought on a individualistic level, with little regard to the consequences of society. Nietzsche’s philosophy is far from sentimental or empathetic – he cares little for plight of human beings.

To be clear: what society calls ‘good’ and ‘bad’, Nietzsche does not. He doesn’t believe that morality originates from God, but that it evolved to value what religion told it to (which is very distant from what the guiding principles of the Aryans).

“In this area, that is, in the laws of obligation, the world of the moral concepts “guilt,” “conscience,” “duty,” and “sanctity of obligation” has its origin—its beginning, like the beginning of everything great on earth, was drenched thoroughly and for a long time with blood.”  Second essay, section 6.

Nietzsche’s second essay, as previously mentioned, deals with the origin of bad conscience, and guilt. If one is an atheist, you may think that you can guess where this portion of human morality evolved from. However, Nietzsche does as a point of fact go much further back than the blood sacrifice of Christ, he examines the very idea of blood sacrifice in itself. He claims that sacrifice was used for archaic savage man to create memory for himself; Nietzsche goes on to claim that a painful memory will never be forgotten.

The sacrifice of the first-born and castration are cemented in religious practice. First-borns were sacrificed to appease the wrath of the gods, and castration was practised to prevent high born women from having sex – yet both practices are barbaric. Nietzsche feels compelled to comment “all religions are in essence nothing but systematic cruelty”, but he understands that what was once physically practised is now internalised as part of the human condition by the followers of Christianity.

It is this which he cannot stand. After all, bad conscience, based on false premises, will only lead to tragedy. A further tragedy is the fact I wasn’t able to condense the analysis of all the essays into one piece, but I shall finish this hat trick in a fortnight. 

Solidarity is dead

Solidarity is dead:

by Samuel Mack-Poole

It will not have missed anyone’s attention that the recent strike amongst workers from Transport for London brought the economy in the capital to a crashing halt last week. I, for one, was extremely pleased at the result, as the true value and muscularity of a workforce is demonstrated by a strike. A lot of people, usually readers of The Sun newspaper, are against strike action, and they would challenge me as to why I fully support the strike.

So, let me elaborate.

Have you ever worked with someone whom was very good at their job? I’m sure we all have. However, when that person is absent from their work, be it through sickness or holiday, you notice their absence tremendously; it’s almost like there’s a human shaped hole in the workplace. I always feel that if someone is an efficient colleague, it’s when they’re not in that you realise their true worth. This self-same logic applies with regard to the strike dispute.

When the tube doesn’t run, there is chaos on the streets of London.  People find it impossible, or nearly impossible, to get to work on time – or at all. Therefore, it should be recognised that the true value of the workers for Transport for London far exceeds the remuneration they acquire. They are worth billions to the economy, so you would think that as they perform such a vital role, they would be valued by society. Sadly, the very opposite is true.

When Transport for London workers go on strike, we invariably see that their pay is compared to teachers, nurses, and policemen/women.  This, in itself, is startlingly odd. Right-wing commentators, and their slavish drones, suddenly maintain that they now care about the pay of the public services. However, when teachers went on strike last year, I saw the self-same people bemoaning the teachers’ holidays, rather than supporting their pay demands. It really is hypocrisy of the highest order from the right-wing gutter press.

Nevertheless, what I have addressed is merely an argument of envy and distraction. I mention envy because many on the right like to throw that argument about in debates, but it is the right which envies legitimate workers’ rights more than the left envies the corrupt bankers’ bonuses. Also, I mention distraction due to the fact that pay is not the root cause of the strike, but the unfair working conditions which the management of Transport for London is trying to foist upon its workers. Yet, instead of this argument prevailing, all we see is the right-wing media dominating the agenda with their faulty reporting of the truth.

The consequences of this for society are dire. Solidarity is now dead. We have the now late Margaret Thatcher to thank for this, since she destroyed the printers’ unions in the 1980s. It was a momentous blow from which the British left never recovered, and it’s not likely that in 2015 that with such a well-oiled propaganda machine that a truly left-wing Labour party will be able to be elected.

The average man (or woman) on the street no longer empathises with his brothers or sisters as he (or she) has been totally indoctrinated by neo-conservative ideals which has led to individualistic thinking to become paramount. It really is a tragedy, as no man is an island, after all.

To return to an earlier idea, I believe the culture of right-wing envy is imbued in negative individualism. Let me elaborate: any public sector which has above average pay or working conditions is treated  with a haughty, supercilious eye by those in the private sector. The right-wing individual is immured in a sense of toxic befuddlement – it is not due to the fact that teachers have long holidays that he (or she) is time poor. In the same way, it is not due to the fact that Transport for London workers are paid well that that he (or she) is remunerated poorly. Instead of being mean-spirited, perhaps workers in the private sector should celebrate workers’ rights (as few and as far between as they are) and campaign for their own, too.

The rationale should not be My pay and working conditions are extremely poor, so your working conditions and pay should be, too. We should not attack each other, as this is exactly what the fat cats in big business desire. A divided working class and middle class, and a divided private and public sector,  is exactly what the richest 1% of society wants. There’s a reason that many socialists have a fist as their banner, and that’s due to the fact that a united work force is undefeatable. Nevertheless, if one finger is removed from that fist then it immediately loses its vitality and very quickly diminishes into a lethargic nothingness.

The tragedy is that fewer and fewer people think along these lines. The average individual is no longer able to see further than their naval, and despite the fact that wages have fallen in real terms over the last five years,  they cannot awake from their slumber. Yet, to carry this somnolent metaphor on, they represent the sleeping giant in this country.

Let’s just take one example, that of shop workers in the retail sector. It is not exactly a secret that workers in that industry suffer the poorest levels of pay and conditions in the country. It is no coincidence that they are the least unionised workforce in the country. Nonetheless, I would argue, quite passionately, that they perform a crucial function within society. Without your Sainsbury’s worker, you wouldn’t have milk in your fridge or toilet paper in your bathroom.  Thus, if the retail workforce unionised itself and went on strike, we would soon see their wages rise and conditions improve.

We would also see how important their work truly is.

To conclude, I would recommend anyone to support a strike. Although I dislike binary logic, if you don’t support a strike, you are implicitly supporting a system which does not give a damn about you, which seeks to exploit you, and then wishes to get rid of you as soon as you are no longer useful. A good colleague of mine once said to me, “You may be in love with the institution, but the institution will never be in love with you.”

Let those salient words resonate within your psyche.

The selective outrage of the white, western media:

The selective outrage of the white, western media:

by Samuel Mack-Poole

It really has been a strange couple of weeks with regard to the western media’s agenda. It has, to borrow a phrase from Lewis Carroll, gotten curiouser and curiouser. It seems that there is a most eccentric hierarchy of western empathy, whereby Cecil the lion inhabits the highest status and Sandra Bland the least. Also, let us not forget the children of Gaza, the victims of American drones, those murdered in churches by white supremacist terrorists and the migrants at the Calais border are all lower in the hierarchy of empathy than a poached wild cat.

What is fascinating about participating on social media is the way in which one can adopt a cause through changing one’s profile picture to popularise a cause. I noticed something quite startling when I conducted a not so scientific experiment. I went through my Facebook Friend’s list and identified that every single person whom had changed their profile picture was a white woman.  Conversely, when I did a similar search for Sandra Bland profile pictures, only three of my friends whom had changed their profile picture to her were white women.

Interestingly, no one whom had changed their profile pictures to either were white men. I guess you can read into that what you will.

When I commented on this sense of white outrage, an awesome debate commenced. If this debate had a title, I would coin it Privileged and Prejudiced.  My reasons for this is that the debate, somewhat sadly – but also predictably -- was divided pretty much along racial lines (with myself being a notable exception). Those criticising the very selective sense of white outrage at Cecil the lion’s killing were black, and those commenting upon the animal right’s outrage were white.

A number of my white friends and family were making comments such as, “Both events are equally bad.”  I have to admit that whilst I didn’t agree with Cecil the lion’s untimely death, I certainly didn’t feel that it was commensurate to Sandra Bland’s most suspicious death in police custody.  I gave a hypothetical example:

You are locked in a room with an explosive device around your neck. This explosive device will be detonated unless you pick up a gun and kill either a lion or a human being, both of which have been tethered to the wall.

I left it to them to elect which option they would choose, but I was pretty certain that the vast majority of human beings would elect to kill the lion rather than the human. There are different reasons for this inherent human bias, but I think we’re more likely to save our own species as humans possess the most developed sense of consciousness and because of selfishness at the evolutionary level with regard to species preservation.

So, what interests me is the fact that this inherent bias we are born with seems to have been eradicated by the insidious tentacles of the western media machine.With regard to the human mind, it is not the best kept secret that it is extremely sensitive to its environment, or, in other words, propaganda.  As such, we have to face up to the fact that the right-wing press has an agenda. Now, when I talk of agenda, I talk of social values which the media promotes.

Again, it is not exactly a secret that the right-wing press is dominant in the UK:  The Sun is the best-selling newspaper. The Daily Mail is the second best-selling, and the Daily Telegraph is the most popular broadsheet.

All of the papers espouse similar values: blind patriotism, vilification of immigrants, hatred of the under-class, anti-union rhetoric, Zionism, and a lack of social consciousness.  Thus, when papers such as these run stories in such a way which provokes outrage, my dubious eyebrow raises to an Everest-like height. I honestly feel as if we deal with the politics of distraction with the media agenda, without sounding like too much of a conspiracy theorist.

With all the tragedy in the world, why is that the plight of a singular lion trumps that of human suffering? How telling it is that most of the people reading this know the name of the lion which was poached, but couldn’t tell me a single name of one of Dylann Storm’s terror shooting?

The central issue is that of coverage, and also of prominence. Do we see the victims of American drone attacks on the front of The Sun? We never have, and I would state that we never will. As a consequence, the average westerner lives in an odd bubble where the very real problems faced by other human beings just don’t reach us. It is as if we inhabit a luxurious space habitat, like that in the film Elysium where a decadent, privileged class are so far removed from war-ravaged Earth that they couldn’t possibly empathise with the poverty faced on the ground.

If the average citizen of the UK doesn’t know of the suffering faced by black people in America, and they’ve never humanised the plight of someone whom has suffered, the result is depressing; there is a systemic lack of empathy for the victims of geo-politics, and not only is there a lack of empathy, there is outright revulsion.

If we take the latest fiasco at Calais, with David Cameron describing human beings who are most likely trying to escape war torn countries and make a better life for themselves as a ‘swarm’, and the Daily Telegraph reporting the cost of transporting of the lucky few whom make it through at up to ‘£150 a day not being unusual’, it’s easy to see the reduction of the plight of fellow human beings to mere economic cost. For if it’s one thing the British immigration-phobic public detests, it is impoverished human beings trying to make a better life for themselves.

We are also behoved to remember that the most serious problem the UK faces isn’t a corrupt taxation system, a suspected paedophile ring in parliament or the semi-privatisation of the NHS, but a trickle of asylum seekers.

Empathy and fraternity are words which have vanished from the British lexicon.

To conclude, I will argue, as I have always done, for the rights of the oppressed, rather than in bourgeois causes which soothe the feelings of selective outrage for white, middle-class England. I shall always humanise those whom have been forgotten or buried by the machinations of the media, because if I can make an iota of difference, then it’s a life well lived.