The Silly-Savvy Salopian in Suffolk: read, believe and write ...

Savvy Comedy – Jobseekers

In for another fun evening at The Tap?

Personally, I didn’t take much persuading. Just the thought of a pint (or two) of the old mango cider got me here by teleportation – the comedians on offer being a mere bonus! Bit of a BOGOFF offer; buy two pints and get a comedian thrown in free!

That’s the great thing about Suffolk Punch Comedy gigs at this particular venue – ENTRY IS FREE! Donations in the pot for prostate cancer research are, it goes without saying (so I’ll say it anyway), or course, always welcomed!

Anyway, in this evening’s offer, I’m being treated to a dose of none other than Jacob Hatton! And just look at the curls on this man’s head – wonderful! Not only is he funny, he also comes with a gift (not the hair!) – Jacob’s gift is that he can tell everything about a person from the sandwich they eat. Shame they’ve got no sarnies on offer, here at The Tap. But, being an amateur psychologist, I can go one better …

I can conjure up an image of a never-seen-before sandwich by looking at the person who’s going to order it.

This is the one Jacob Hatton is dreaming about right now!

Always eat your crusts to maintain a full head of curls! Does this apply to …? No … no, I’m not going down to that level – too rude!

Change of subject!

Louise Bastock.

Now, Louise I can relate to big time!

Louise has just opted out of the corporate day job! Join the Discommunicated Souls’ Club, Louise! Strange, seems she already has; she keeps banging on about death – something to do with having wealthy grandparents! Yes, Louise, that might solve your money issues, but really? Best to do as I, Jay Cool, do – set yourself up as a blogger! It’s a lucrative profession for the dispossessed – this down and out’s monthly income for September was 40p!

This, Louise, you need to keep in mind: your ‘job’ did not ‘take the best years of’ your ‘life’! The best years have just started! You’re here, here in The Tap, creating a roomful of raucous laughter – what more could you want?

Don Patmore?

This, as you may have worked out, is Don! And judging by the moustache, then Jacob Hatten’s not the only one with a penchant for eating the crusts! But besides the curls, then there’s another common theme going on here.

Don, like Louise, is in celebratory mode – he hasn’t ‘lost’ his ‘job’, he ‘just’ doesn’t ‘want to go there anymore’ and, even better than that, and better for us comedy-loving punters, he’s not going there anymore!

What is it with day jobs these days? Their loss; our gain! Looks like we’re going to see a lot more of Louise and Don on the comedy circuit!

But next up’s, Luke Anthony!

Here we go … Another talented comedian with day-job issues.

Seems Luke’s been having issues with attempts to claim Universal Credit, in spite of telling Social Security that he has a disability – six fingers and webbed feet, courtesy of his roots in Ely (sorry, Ely – his words, not mine), and a reality deficiency!

The reality deficiency is spot on! Doesn’t Luke know you have to be unable to move, either on wheels, surfboard, boat, in another’s arms, or even on one’s own feet to qualify for Disability Benefit these days? If you can get from A to B, by whatever means, even by broomstick – you’re doomed!

Sorry, Luke – looks like you’ll have to stay put in The Brewery Tap. Our emcee, PJ’s a generous soul – he’ll treat you to a pint (and the water’s free!)!

So comforting, to know that my Jobseeker’s woes are shared; looks like us creative types are all in it together! So, let’s stuff the day jobs! Jacob, Louise, Don and Luke – keep on telling the jokes, and I’ll keep on stealing them for my blog! Together, we’ll hit the big time …

Soon! (Okay, PJ, as world-renowned Talent Scout, feel free to hop on board.)

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, blogger extraordinaire, October 2019

For more rip-roaring laughter, be at The Brewery Tap , East Street, Sudbury, Suffolk, this evening (yes, it did take me a month to get around to writing this review, due to the rocketing demand for my skills and consequent hectic schedule – reality deficiency?! ), Thursday 6th November, 2019.

Free entry!

Comedy show starts at 8pm.

Highly-recommended (by me): mango cider.

Friendly barman called John, and two gorgeous border collies (need some punters to do the heckling!).

Donations in the pot for prostate cancer research always welcome (hefty wads of notes preferred!).

Silly Book – The Secret Diary of Boris Johnson

Savvy Article – Boris & Donald

An Exotic Photo-Shoot at The Tap

Savvy Book – Truth To Power

‘‘Truth to Power’, by Jess Phillips.

A savvy little book (signed copies available from Waterstones) with a big, if somewhat difficult to stomach, message.

‘Hate the sin not the sinner.’ (p.47)

In other words, don’t waste your energy exacting revenge upon a single person, even if they did you a serious wrong. Look at the institutions in which that person, was enabled to rise into such a position of power and authority, that they believed themselves to be untouchable – or above the law!

Look at the power structures that enabled, that may still enable, that person, or that wrongdoer to thrive. With regards to poor-people management in the workplace, Jess Phillips advises to ‘never assume coincidence’. (p.43)

If you become aware of, either through being on the receiving end of it, or witnessing someone else be bullied, perhaps just for exercising their right to speak the truth, consider whether, if you opt for standing back and doing nothing, you will be able to live with the certainty that the same thing will happen again – to someone else. ‘Problematic systems’ have a tendency ‘to produce repetitive outcomes.'(p.43)

‘Silence,’ states Jess Phillips, ‘is the grease that keeps’ the ‘wheels’ of power ‘turning’. (p.13)

Jess goes on to question the law that allows silencing practices, or non-disclosure agreements (NDAs), to give the rich and powerful an opportunity to gag whistle-blowers.

In return for a payment, the victim has to sign documentation forbidding them from discussing the issue of concern with their friends, colleagues, and even, in some cases, with a counsellor or doctor. But if one cannot speak, one cannot heal and, even more importantly, one can’t prevent that same rich and powerful organisation or person, from continuing in their harmful practices against others.

Without giving away the author’s suggested ‘7 ways to call time on B. S.’, I, Jay Cool, will state that I am right behind her on calling time on the practice of NDAs, and in ‘speaking up about stuff that is wrong’, and that I hope to join Jess in ‘giving a shit enough to do something’, by sharing with my blog readers, her concluding sentences:

‘You have more power than you think; don’t give it away to people who don’t deserve it.

LET’S USE IT.’ (p.221)

Copyright of review owned by Jay Cool, November 2019

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

Disclaimer: Should you choose to purchase ‘‘Truth to Power’, via one of my links to Waterstones online, I will receive a small commission at no extra-cost to yourself.

Silly Book – The Secret Diary of Boris Johnson

Hilarious!

After a grim Friday, slogging through the muddy grime of a rainy and sunless day, I picked myself up by a date with the old blunderer, Boris!

The date, admittedly, didn’t get off to a promising start – turns out we have zilch in common when it comes to politics. But things started to perk up a bit (Not in that sense – stupid! I’m a married lady! This was a strategic date – both of us were keen to discuss our respective would-be comedian personas!) when Boris was kind enough (wrong word!), or, rather egocentric enough, to treat me to a reading of his boyhood diary.

Within seconds, (i.e. before I had the opportunity to inform him that I really wasn’t all that interested), I found myself being bombarded with the most complex of words. He hit me with ‘vituperative’, ‘bellatristic’ and ‘mendocity’, amongst many other beasts. And, even with my extensive higher education and 23 years of teaching, I found myself scrabbling around inside the library of my brain for some semblance of meaning. I had to dig deeper than deep and still didn’t get any of it, or any of Boris. This wasn’t really a problem, however, because when (some hours later) Boris blasted out his last bit of stuff and nonsense, and asked me for my considered-constructive feedback, I just laughed!

And laughed some more. Like I said, I found the whole thing (because thing is what it was) absolutely hilarious. Granted, you will think me a trifle rude for laughing in Boris’ face like that (i.e. like Amber laughing in love-rat Michael’s face on Love Island 2019), but, unlike Michael (sensitive soul), Boris didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, he lapped it all up, loving himself even more for being laughed at. And so busy was he, congratulating himself for what he took to be my high praise, that he didn’t seem to hear my very polite request for a return of the favour.

I had gone all out of my way, on a Friday evening, to converse with my fellow comedic writer, Boris, and I didn’t even get the chance to read to him from my own fake diary!

Making my excuses (he didn’t listen to those either!), I left him patting himself on the back, and did a runner … To be fair though, had I just backed out of the venue in slow motion, he would have been none the wiser for the slow evaporation of one person in his imagined audience of thousands.

To be honest, then I did start to feel a little guilty, once I’d come down from the adrenalin-induced elation one gets when escaping from the enemy; so, hoping to make amends, I made use of my me-time on the train back to Suffolk, by doing a Boris book search on Amazon. I know he’s supposed to be rich, in the way that great leaders are, who are above the law and can set their own personal minimal wage, but, judging by his lack of a recent haircut, I was guessing him to be down on his luck. Perhaps the personal loan he’d tried to take out with the backing of his mate, the Queen, had been turned down? And what would I most desire, if down on my anti-depressants? Why, for someone to lift my spirits by purchasing one of my books (had I published any)!

So imagine my shock when, an Amazon search for ‘‘The Secret Diary of Boris Johnson: Aged 13 1/4’, revealed the truth (i.e. the lies). Boris, in spite of his Eton education, is not even the author of his own childhood! The lazy b*****d hired a ghost writer! No wonder old Boris is short of cash – such an esteemed author as the one and only Lucien Young, author of ‘Alice in Brexitland’, is hardly going to come cheap!

As I said at the beginning, and in the middle, and now at the end – hilarious! Buy your copy ASAP! You might even be putting cash into the hands of a worthy cause. And, no, I’m not talking about the real author, Lucien Young, I’m talking about me – me, me, me! My pals at Waterstones pay me a small commission for every book I can persuade you to order via one of my links! With one book sold to date, and a payment of 40p into my coffers, I am on my way to putting down that deposit ready for my next house move. Belle Vue House, here I come ……..!

Copyright of review owned by Jay Cool, late buddy of Boris Johnson, October 2019

Image by groovy_giggle_girl from Pixabay

If you can cope with it, do have fun reading a furhter selection of tributes to my old pal:

Silly Letter – Dear Boris

Sillily-Serious Poem – Young Boris

Mid-Life MOT

Written in response to an article in The Independent, by Chiara Giordano.

Causes.

When is our Tory government going to start researching causes instead of effects?

According to the highly-esteemed Iain Duncan-Smith, co-founder for the Centre of Social Justice (CSJ), then due to the high numbers of ‘economically inactive’ 50 to 64 year olds currently sponging off our society’s young adults, by 2035 the pension age should be increased to 75!

What planet is this man on? A ‘mid-life MOT’ conducted by senior management? Take a look at real life Iain! Your ‘mid-life MOT’ is hardly a new idea. Although, for your information, it currently holds the label of Performance Management Appraisal Meeting!

Has your think-tank organisation bothered finding out the true statistics for the number of highly-talented, skilled and experienced, forty-plus employees who have been forced out of their careers by such practices as: gaslighting, transparent separation, restructuring and redundancies?

In referring to the true statistics, I include the dark figure: the employees who have been silenced by the do-not-under-any-circumstances-talk-about-the-boss conditional pay-offs, known as compromise agreements, severance packages or gagging orders.

How many of the mid-life unemployed have fallen victim to the workplace-bullying tactics, now an inherent and integral part of our British culture? The tactics that managers attempt to justify to themselves by forcibly administering the tag of burnout to their stitched-up targets!

Yes, Iain, the mid-life MOTs have, in my opinion, been happening for many years, with a noticeable increase when the Conservative and Liberal Democrat Coalition government came into power in 2010. And, by my observations, the gagging devices have been selling like hot-cakes ever since!

So here is a suggestion for you, Iain: throw some funds at self-startup businesses for mid-lifers! Some could occupy themselves, in their kitchens, making themselves useful, keeping up with the ever-increasing demand for palatable gobstoppers.

And on that note, I am about put my kitchen creatives to work!

“Sprogs!?”

Mid-lifers: stand to attention, apply for that government startup grant, and keep your eyes peeled for a soon-to-be bestselling collection of gobstopper recipes!

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, Head Chef at Free-Range Publishing House, August 2019

Savvy Book – The Last

Well, I survived! I, Jay Cool, blogger extraordinaire, got to the end of Hanna Jameson’s, dystopian novel, ‘The Last’ (available at Waterstones) and I’m still here!

I’m still here, but I’m pretty certain I won’t be the last to survive to tell the tale. This book is an absolute must-read; I was unable to think about anything else, or do anything else, until I’d got to the end of it.

The setting is post-apocalyptic, but that doesn’t exclude any readers from its audience. If you like stories about survival, murder, mystery, horror, ghosts, politics, drugs or, in fact, stories about anything, this should be your next read! It’s incredibly well-written by a supernaturally-intelligent author, at the same time as being easily accessible to a wide audience. Whether you finished your own education at 16, or went on to graduate from a University degree at 21+ something, you will devour this book.

And on the issue of devouring, if the printed word isn’t enough in itself to satiate your thirst, or your hunger, then do not fear – this tale has plenty to offer in terms of the slurping of juices, and the dicing and slicing of flesh! Curious? Got your wine glass and cutlery ready? Join Jameson! Try a sip of her ‘dead-body marinade’ before making yourself useful, by throwing in your lot (i.e. your knife and fork) with the other survivors – as they dig up the dead!

For the would-be grave raiders amongst you, I leave you (almost) with the words of Jon, Jameson’s main character:

‘I rammed the shovel into the soil, leaned on it, and I met resistance.’ (p.297)

And leave you completely with a piece of my Coolest advice: Do not resist! Make your purchase from Waterstones, and dig, dig, dig ….

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, October 2019

Image by engin akyurt from Pixabay

Disclaimer: I receive a small commission from Waterstones for each purchase made via one of my links.

Other book reviews by Jay Cool:

Savvy Book – The Familiars

Savvy Book – Melmoth

Serious Book – The Narrow Road …

Silly-Savvy Poem – Thursday

Trudging, hearse-like, in morning slumber –

worse, I know, than swinging out to terrain

of pink-dank carpet, cupped with hoops of

tan (the stains of long-drunk coffee cups,

and mugs, and breakfast bowls- uprooted

from cluttered-clanks of kitchen chaos, to

quell the thirst of mornings gone, of people

past, of time thrown out, of thoughts I had –

now wasted) – I take time to reconsider, to

shake off time still waiting.

The phone rings.

Thursday.

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, Thursday 24th October, 2019

Image by Heiko Stein from Pixabay

Savvy Poem – Left-Right Invaders

Silly-Savvy Poem – Meaningful

Savvy Book – The Familiars

Not sure whether I was lured into Stacey Halls’ novel, ‘The Familiars’, by the magic of witchcraft, or by the main character Fleetwood Shuttleworth.

Fleetwood, besides being a Christian name, is, of course, the place name of of yet another of the many coastal locations (i.e. greasy and grimy docklands) lucky enough to have been graced with my childhood self. I just hope that Lancashire County Council has made provision, within its budget, for the cost of a nameplate with which to mark out one of my world-famous abodes.

Fortunately, I lived in Fleetwood in 1976, far too late to have been caught up the nasty business of the Pendle witch trials of 1612. This is as well, as I did, and still do, have a bit of an interest in crazy hats – pointy-black-wide-rimmed witches’ hats being essential to my collection!

Not that it is my wish to jest (must stop doing that!), now that I’ve read Stacey Halls’ novel, and discovered that, although her version of events is fictional, the names of the characters involved are factual. A wealthy-young lady by the name of Fleetwood, really did live at Gawthorpe Hall, and a young poverty-stricken lass called Alice Gray really did have a narrow escape from the gallows.

What’s more, then I do believe that I have a number of ancestors who lived and died in Westmoreland, the home of Fleetwood’s mother, so I do feel that I owe these spirits my respect and empathy. I just hope that I am free from the DNA of any of the accusers or judges.

Greed and ambition dominate the lives of Stacey’s male characters. The local magistrate, Roger, thinks nothing of sacrificing the lives of the innocent, if it means that he can rank high on the list of King James’ favourites. And, although, Fleetwood’s husband is presented as having a malleable streak when it comes to his wife’s persuasions, this also makes him vulnerable to manipulation by his male friendship group, which just happens to include Roger!

In praise of the author, Stacey Halls, ‘The Familiars’ is a non-put-downable read for fans of historical fiction (read it in a day!). And those with an interest in psychology will immediately draw parallels between the stop-at-nothing, albeit semi-fictitious, social climbers of a royalist 17th century, and a number (i.e. large number) of all-too-real politicians today!

Image by OpenClipart-Vectors from Pixabay

P.S. Keep an eye on the ‘Silly-Savvy Family’ section of this blogsite for updates on the Lancastrian twiglets of my family tree, and for my Fleetwood memoir! (But be aware that if I find I am related to Roger, I will be keeping stum about it!)

Feckless Fools: Part One

Chapter 1 – The Half-Girlfriend

Savvy Book – Melmoth

Discl

Silly-Savvy Poem – Meaningful

A haiku taking its inspirational mumblings from Twitter trends:

Monday Meaningful,

trends, mournful for moments of

lost Funday Sunday!

Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay

Silly Letter – Dear Boris

Savvy Book – Melmoth

Savvy Poem – SAD

Savvy Book – Melmoth

Sarah Perry’s ‘Melmoth’.

Perry’s latest novel centres around the deceased character of Melmoth, a lady who sweeps in and out of the world of the living, swishing around her black garments, and preying upon the vulnerable, repeatedly failing in her attempts to find a companion with whom she can share her eternal purgatory.

Beautifully written, ‘Melmoth’ is packed full with metaphors and similes I wish I could claim as my own! Images so colourful and vivid put for my approval. Images awaiting to be caught up in the imagination of an amateur 3D Paint scribbler – each one competing with the other to be the chosen one.

I’ve made my choice. Sarah Perry, you have spoken and I, Jay Cool, have listened, sifted and selected. And here, right now, I present to you, your ‘buildings plastered and painted in the colours of girls’ dresses in spring’ (p.39).

houses like dresses

You will notice, of course, that I have omitted to include the ‘black and terrible’ building that rises up from the Vltava, called ‘Prague Castle’ (p.39) but, for that, you will have to forgive me! You see, I have never been to Prague, the main setting for your story, and am, at present, imprisoned within the boundary caves of a small English town in the county of Suffolk.

Not that I am looking for your pity, Perry, for, you see, my confinement is of my own making. True, I have been exiled from my birthland of Salop; but, no, I am not sitting here in hope of a visitation from the deceased Melmoth.

On the contrary, Melmoth the lonely wanderer can keep herself to her lonely dead self, for I do not require her company, and neither will she acquire mine by force, persuasion or womanly charm. The issue here being that I really rather enjoy living in a cave and ladying it over my underlings. You see, I , Jay Cool, am descended from none other than Humphrey Kynaston, the cave-dwelling highwayman of Salop.

Great-Something-Grandfather Humphrey was exiled from Myddle Castle due to his criminal activities, but did he succumb to the pleadings of your Melmoth? No! He just crawled into a cave in Nesscliffe and got on with his life, occasionally popping out to jump onto the carriage of some unsuspecting passer-by and making off with a load of their valuables.

Hence, I await – not to unburden myself of all my woes and sorrows to Melmoth – but, like Humphrey, to await for the opportunity to jump out and …

…. to share my profound thoughts and artistic interpretations with the world!

And what better location for my ramblings and scribblings than in the haunts of another of my prestigious ancestors, my Great-Something-Granny, the Lady Elizabeth de Burgh! What’s more, judging by the excellence of my latest piece of artwork, then I do suspect that I must also be descended from the good Thomas Gainsborough, somewhere along some branch, or spindly twig of my family tree. And, if not from Gainsborough, from Constable or ….

… perhaps, I am a distant cousin of the great living author, Sarah Perry, herself. Indeed, I do have the surname Perry in my family tree and, had my dearest cousin, Sarah, not beaten me to it, I would almost certainly have come up with this wonderful image:

‘Hours it took for the men to go past, coming east over the bridge. All that day they spread and thinned throughout the city, as though they were particles in a dense black fog coming off the river that made its way into the alleys.’ (Perry, pp.50-51)

I guess that by way of acknowledgement that somebody else did it first, I really ought to offer Sarah one of my original illustrations for the accompaniment of her extended simile. But, I can’t possibly extend my generosity that far – it’s just all-too time consuming (and I haven’t caught up, yet, with the new series of X-Factor)! Instead, I turn to my trusty friend, Pixababy.com. so here goes!

apple-2938940_1920

All you have to do here, is to imagine that the ants are back, that they are walking over a river, rather than a grassy plain, and that there are a lot more of them – and there you have it!

And, if you can’t, then tough! You are lacking in the something essential called an imagination. Go back to primary school and read a lot more picture books! When you have exhausted the book boxes in your classroom (give ‘The Gruffalo’ a go!), move onto Enid Blyton’s ‘The Enchanted Wood’ trilogy, then try out a few teenage dystopian novels (see my book review for the best), and then – and only then- make your purchase of ‘Melmoth’ from Waterstones online, via my link.

If you work your way through all of my suggestions, I may earn a tidy little commission for Waterstones – I live on in hope (so, Melmoth, get knotted!).

Copyright of review and first illustration owned by Jay Cool, October 2019

Image of ants on bridge, courtesy of Pixabay.com

Savvy Book – Pure

Savvy Book -The Lost Boy

Savvy Book – The Killables

Silly Letter – Dear Boris

Dear Boris,

I’m not entirely sure why I have chosen to grace you with one of my utterly fascinating letters on today of all days, i.e. #SundayFunday! Because it has to be said that having a control freak in charge of my country of abode is not my idea of fun on any day, let alone of a SundayFunday ….

Still, you do make an utterly,utterly fandappydozey subject for my scribbles. And, as everytime I see any living being with extremely-straight-ironed-out-but-still-scruffy hair, I cannot but help think of you. I guess this means that for some unfortunate but utterly invasive reason, you are ‘always on my mind’.

Yes, Boris, it does has to be said, to give you your due, that you are everywhere. Even as I am sitting here, in my cave at my writing desk, I look out of my very-drafty-glassless window and I see you! The drafts out there, on this rather breezy SundayFunday, are creating such havoc with your hairdo that I almost feel sorry for you!

This slight pang of sympathy is short-lived, though, because I’ve just spotted the mess that you’ve left in your wake – and, if you think, I’m going to trail after you with a collection of doggy bags, you can think again! And, if that purple shoe belongs to Jennifer Acuri, she can keep you!

First, however, I’ll be catching up with your old girl – to have a few words about ownership and responsibility; I do believe there are heavy fines in my locality for ladies who let go of the reigns a little! And, besides any of the legal stuff, then Jen really ought to consider tying up her golden locks, because she really is very lucky not to have been caught up in your turds!

Oh, Boris, what will it take to get you out of my mind? A wall? Yes, that could be the solution! If you ever get your brain-crazy Brexit deal through, and attempt to drag the rest of us ordinary mortals through your jobbies then, once that wall goes up, I’ll be digging through to take up residence on the other side.

Scotland, will you have me?

I did used to be an Aberdonian! I may have been birthed in Salopia, but I twice had occasion to take up refuge amidst the grand architecture of your granite city (and, no I didn’t sink so low as to squat in the sewers!). Take me back! Please, Nicola Sturgeon, I beg of you!

And, whilst I’m onto you, Nicola (sorry, Boris, I know I addressed this letter to you, but …), my eldest sprog needs a free university education, as will Sprog 2 and 3 in due course. If you need further evidence of my entitlement, Nic, then …

Okay, Nic, it would probably be polite to address you in a separate letter, rather than shoehorn you onto the back of Boris. Who, after all, would want to ride on Boris’ back? I mean, I know that he does have a fine pair of broad shoulders, but really?

Anyway, back to Boris! Boris? Who’s Boris?

Must be that old-age, menopausal thing kicking in. Can’t remember my own last thoughts these days! Best retrace the steps of my mental processes …

So long ….

And best regards from ?

Copyright of letter and scribbles owned by somebody-or-other who does not feel the need to lower themselves to the level of others by ratifying their intelligent ramblings and original artwork with a signature!

Free entry!

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