C’mon Clarkson Cry – Like an Olympian

I’m not sure whether you are aware, you’re probably not because you have a life, but good old Clarkson has been at it again. He said, after Andy Murray crying after the recent Wimbledon final, why do we all have to cry so much. Why is it such a big thing now, and so popular?

In his usual dulcet, ignorant tone he tried to degrade the efforts put in by amazing athletes’ and cast everyone with the same brush, as he so often does. It doesn’t matter if you’ve just broken an Olympic record, or broken a nail on Big Brother, you shouldn’t cry.

I agree, whole heartedly with the latter, and in part, I also agree with the base sentiment. We do seem to see crying too easily. I think it’s ok for a child whose not getting what they want to cry, as they have limited options, and often, the crying works to their advantage. However, it doesn’t work the same way when you’re an adult, and neither should it.

There are notable exceptions to the no cry concept as an adult, and Clarkson should understand this, as should everyone else.

If you’ve worked very very hard at something, waited patiently, sacrificed many other elements of your life, pushed yourself harder and faster, taken yourself to your very limit and won, or even, come close, you deserve those tears, you’ve earned them.

Murray is getting better and better, and he knows it, he is becoming more and more relaxed, and as a result, people like him more, and he is showing real promise.

If you just sit on your arse and drive a car fast, screaming ‘power’ and ‘c’mon’ and behave like a child with two other adults doing the same, I could understand why you couldn’t understand the emotion that builds. But, if you are Murray, or any one of our fantastic Olympian’s, and you’ve been doing something for years and years, getting better and better at it, and it all culminates in something spectacular, then well done you.

Olympian’s remind us what we are, why we are here. They all show us what human beings are capable of with hard work and dedication. They really are amazing. I think nearly Clarkson nearly cried once on camera, in fact I’m sure he did. They did an endurance race on Top Gear in a 3 series BMW. The 3 of them were exhausted, and exhilarated, and together as a unit after battling hard trying to bring this BMW home in a race. So somewhere in his soul he knows a slither of what this can be like.

Imagine working so hard for something, and then winning, and then seeing your family celebrate with you, and inspiring a generation? Imagine that….

Athletes inspire me to lose weight, to try and eat better, to cycle harder and faster.

Clarkson, well done. You’ve inspired me to write this article to remind you what an arse you are.

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James Bond 007 Skyfall

Take a look around
Breathe in all you see
Hear every sound
Don’t drop the key

Forget all you’ve known
Friends now a stranger
Those around have flown
Warned of the danger

Skyfall
All closing in
Skyfall
No one will win

Feel the sweat on your fingers
Hear the cries nearby
The smell of death lingers
The look in his eye

Dropping from above
No time to escape
The enemy of love
Devil changing shape

Skyfall
All closing in
Skyfall
All we speak is sin

Mark Scotchford © 26/05/2012

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Close

Come to me
Run in the other direction
Kept at arm’s length
Then fight for affection

Be close
Smell of your perfume
Feeling suffocated
Please leave the room

Message me
Encourage contact
All falls silent
Easy to distract

The one with the problem
Or so first thought
Not just me
Happy and distraught

Mark Scotchford © 26/05/2012

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Sticking Your Neck Out

How about a tip?
Is it what I deserve?
I’m here to help
It’s you I serve

Biding my time
Coping with your crap
I’m sorry sir
Your dinner’s in your lap

After a hard day
Please just be nice
We will do your burger
Or chicken and rice

I’m not your servant
This is just the start
Could be gifted and talented
In music or art

Respect me as a person
Don’t tell me what to do
In a few years time
It could be me telling you

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Weapon of Choice

Now it’s all over
It starts again
The quest for solitude
The reassurance of pain

Whisky and Martini’s
Shaken or Stirred
No one seems to listen
A bullet is your word

Trigger happy finger
Time they heard your voice
Anything that kills
Is a weapon of choice

Back in the fold
New suit does the trick
Clean and concise
Your wounds need a lick

Nearly lost everything
Even took your name
Zero to hero
Play their game

Let them think
They have won
Turn and face
Barrel of a gun

Just another mission
Do whatever it takes
Only one truth
A cold heart doesn’t ache

Mark Scotchford ©December 2011

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The Magician

You must be a magician
I must be your trick
I’m in sand
And sinking quick

You’ve got the black hat
I’ve seen the dove fly
I’m the rabbit again
I don’t know why

Smiling at me sweetly
Sawing me in half
Waiting for applause
The audience laugh

I won’t be in the next show
You’ll be on your own
I was the apprentice
Now I’ve grown

Just one trick
Up my sleeve
Juggle on your own now
I’ve got to leave

Away from this floor show
And all the charade
Fists have flown
We lay scared

Getting up
As the curtain descends
After so many performances
We can’t be friends

After so many acts
Don’t know which one was real
Sailing again
On an even keel

From stage to open sea
Time to say farewell
As the wind picks up
I cast the last spell

Mark Scotchford © 26/11/2005 Even though I wrote this 6 years ago, and we shouldn’t have favourites, (not even poems), this is mine.

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Slut Walking – What, in these shoes?

I have to admire women. They are a fantastic species, they really are. Men, let’s be honest, we don’t stand a chance against them. They rule the world; men are just ‘front of house’.

The first I heard of Slut Walking was by a fantastic comedian called Andrew Maxwell who I saw at the Banana Cabaret in Balham. He was brilliant, as he described what this entitled ensemble would entail. As the name suggests, it’s fairly easy to work out what this will be, but less likely to envisage what will be the outcome, or indeed the goal. He said he’s going to do his own little march alongside it, called a creep crawl, with a false hand. The audience were in hysterics, I among them.

I thought the whole thing was a big joke until I found out it is real, and happening around the world. The one here is on the 4th June. Coincidentally, rather near my Birthday.

Like all these things, I was quite surprised at how it came about. Apparently, a Toronto police officer said:- ‘Women should avoid dressing like sluts in order not to be victimised.’

Hhhhmmmm, this idiot must have gone to the same charm school as the justice minister who came up with the ludicrous notion of there being three types of rape. It’s only a matter of time before some idiot describes being shot or dying in the same way. A point raised with far more humour, by the comic already mentioned.

Women do seem to be getting it…….in the neck, so to speak about the whole promiscuity thing, don’t you agree? For centuries women have been told to lie there and think of England, that sex is for their man, not for themselves. Now women are empowered, very sexually aware and enjoying it, they get told they are sluts, or they ‘were asking for it’, when they get it and didn’t want it at all, ever. It’s all a fine line for me and it’s a difficult line to walk (no matter how I’m dressed), with humour.

Caitlin Moran was writing about the same subject in an article for The Times, and said revolutions start with a local indignity that protesters feel gives them a chance to change things. For example, the Tunisian uprising was triggered by Mohammed Bouazizi setting himself alight after things being confiscated by police.

Now, I don’t hope to make a correlation between these two uprisings….. But I suppose they are both triggered by the same passion, with the same goals in mind.

Apparently the London Slut Walk has been organised by a 17 year old girl. Amazing and incredible though this is, it still makes me wonder why they are doing it in the first place.

They must know that while they are trying to say, we can wear what we want and should be allowed to, whenever we want and for no reason other than we want to, every woman on that march will feel power. They will feel fantastic, not victimised, they will feel as one with their fellow marcher, empowered, confident, strong, and good humoured and they should I hope have a great day.

Just so long as they don’t break a heal halfway through, or catch me maybe joining the creep crawl. They say the best things in life are free. It’s true; I don’t even have to buy a ticket.

Mark Scotchford © 28/5/2011 References: – Comedian Andrew Maxwell, columnist Caitlin Moran

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