You can't handle the truth

My post yesterday seems to have caused something of a stir. Maybe it’s because it was based on the truth.

Too often nowadays we are fed information that has been ‘doctored’ in some way. Whether it be from a politician, a newspaper or an advertisement, it seems to me the people in charge base their policies on Jack Nicholson’s character in  A Few Good Men, ‘You can’t handle the truth.’
Let’s take the nuclear industry for example. “No we haven’t had a leak.” A few days later, “We’d like to correct that, we had a small leak, but nothing to worry about.”  When the truth finally emerges the leak was big enough to cause two head monsters that glow in the dark, we are told it was in our own interests not to know. Wouldn’t it be far better to just tell us from the start? Some of us are capable of making informed decisions you know, but we can only do that when we are told the facts.

I work in an industry, that like the nuclear industry,  is a ‘Just’ culture. What it means is that if you make a genuine mistake and own up to it, then you should have no blame attached to you. However, if you were negligent then you can expect consequences. This is only fair, and in the interests of safety. It encourages people to report their mistakes, genuine mistakes.

Now let’s move that into the rest of the world. When was the last time you saw a politician say ‘Sorry, my cock up’? I don’t think I’ve ever seen that happen. Instead, they put ‘spin’ on it. Spin eh? To cause something to turn or whirl round quickly. That’s the correct defitnition of spin. The political defitnition seems to be ‘to manipulate the truth in such a way as it becomes unrecognisable as the truth, and puts someone in a favourable light.’ Is that not just another way of saying ‘Lies’?

For once I would like to see a government department back down when they have been proven wrong, or a politician say ‘I messed up,’ or a business owner say ‘we are only intersted in the maximum profit, and we don’t care who we hurt in the process.’ (yes I know there are many ethical business owners, but equally, there are many who are not.)

I know it is a utopian ideal, but I would like a little more truth in the world. No, Im wrong. I don’t want a little more, I want a lot more.

‘You Can’t handle the truth.’ Well I’ve got news for you guys. Yes we
can. Truth is refreshing, it’s cathartic and it’s the only way we should live. You should try it some time.

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Ol' Jurassic Ambassador

On Saturday, I popped in to see my friend Seumas Gallacher. He was at his book signing  in one of the Jashanmal book stores, here in Bahrain. This isn’t the first time I’ve dropped in on him at one of these events, but each time I do, I see the enthusiasm and excitement he has for writing.

Whilst  he is not one of the ‘biggies’ in the writing world (yet, I’m sure he will be one day), he has an immense passion for the whole process. He loves to ‘meet the people’, whether they are fans of his genre or not. Not for ol’ Jurassic the sign it and ‘next please’ attitude I have seen from other writers. If someone has taken the time to come and buy one of his books, then they deserve his full attention, and for as long as they need. And even if they don’t buy his books, he still engages in conversation with anyone, on any subject.

What a refreshing attitude. Whilst I’m sure he has an eye on the commercial aspect, (well he is a banker after all… sorry Seumas  ) it isn’t at the expense of being a decent, engaging human being. His knowledge of books is vast, and he clearly enjoys a good read. His enthusiasm for the subject is infectious, and I know that when I’m thinking ‘what’s the point?’ a quick chat with Seumas has me all fired up and enthusiastic once again. His encouragement of others to write is constant, and he won’t accept ‘but I’m not really a writer.’ His answer will always be ‘If you write, you are a writer, and if you are a writer, why not come along the the Bahrain Writers Circle, we don’t bite.’

I am not sure where he gets his energy from, unless those diet Cokes are really Red Bull, but he approaches everything with such vigour. It’s an energy I wish I could muster on those occasions I sit and look at my computer, then go and watch yet another ‘dead body’ program on TV (well I am a crime writer after all.)

As an ambassador for the world of writing, and books in general, you would be hard pressed to find better. Long may your success continue, Seumas.

Why not pay him a visit at http://seumasgallacher.com/

(Hope that cheque’s in the post Seumas  )

FELLOW MAN? I DON'T THINK SO

Neil Gaiman wrote that Sir Terry Pratchett had an inner anger that drove him to write. Sir Terry told him  “Do not underestimate this anger. This anger was the engine that powered Good Omens.”

When I read the article I thought perhaps that was his way of writing, but I couldn't see it working for me. I write when the 'Wee blighters' give me something to work with. Well I was wrong. I have an anger, an overwhelming, consuming, eating away at me, type of anger. The sort that has you ready with both barrels loaded, waiting for the poor unlucky soul who says or does the tiniest thing wrong. It won't be something big, but it will be the last straw, the burst balloon, the breached dam. It will release the dark tide of bubbling black rage upon them like an emotional tsunami. It isn't their fault of course, they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

That brings me to the reason for my anger. The total selfish attitude of my 'fellow man.' I use that term loosely, as I have no fellowhip with many of the people on this planet. Hundreds of thousands of humans beings have found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. It wasn't their fault, they had the misfortune to be born and live in what has become a war zone. Yet so many of my 'fellow men' are whining about these poor people as if they chose to be there, and are just using it as an excuse to get out and better their lives. Apparently some of my 'fellow  men' believe if they really wanted, they could fight back and stop the war. Really?

How many thousands were displaced by the second world war in Europe? I don't recall seeing anything in the history books about signs saying 'Our country is full – go away.' I know there is a security risk with the tide of refugees (I refuse to call them immigrants), but does that justify writing off hundreds of thousands of innocent lives?

I just hope it's one of these 'fellow men' on the receiving end of my anger, not some poor unfortunate person who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and who won't have a clue what just happened.

On a positive note, the anger has woken the 'Wee blighters' and my writing is being driven from deep inside me. Whether it makes me a better writer only time will tell, but at least I now know what Sir Terry meant.

A WEE RANT

Recently, both my desktop computer and tablet had upgrades to the software. The computer was an automatic one, and the tablet was initiated by me. Easy eh? Well it should be, but for some reason, the software developers think they know better than me as to what I want. Now I won’t tell you the manufacturers of my devices, but one runs software designed by Granny Smith and the other developed by a green R2D2.

In the middle of a Skype call, my desktop tells me it wants to reboot to finish installing the software. ‘No,’ I say, ‘you can do that tonight when I’m asleep.’ The computer acknowledges my command and then reboots anyway.

Whilst I’m waiting for this rebellious machine to do its thing, I pick up my tablet, which I had updated in the morning, and went to my Kindle program. Wonderful, none of my books were there. I told it to find them and it refused. One reboot later and a fresh sign in to Kindle, my books return. Having checked what I want, I now open my browser and find my home page has been reset to the page of the equipment manufacturer!

Flash back two hundred years. When  something was to be written, you toddled off to the nearest goose and plucked a feather. Pen knife in hand you cut the end of the feather into a nib, dipped the tip in a dark liquid and started scratching your marks on a piece of parchment.

Now, you will note that at no point, despite having a major part to

Courtesy of: http://www.freefoto.com

play in the process, does the goose dictate to you what you can write, how it should be formatted, or which books you can consult. It doesn’t come around to change the ink colour, or the slant on your writing.

When will manufacturers realise that when I change the settings on my device, it’s because I want it to be that way. STOP CHANGING IT BACK!

And whilst I’m at it, I’m tired of being told  my password is too short, has been used in the last millennia, doesn’t have enough symbols/capitals/seven dwarf names or any other of the wonderful things they come up with. Pretty soon the only people that will be able to get into any account will be the hackers, because the rest of us will still be trying to work out whether it was an umlaut or a tilde that was the seventeenth character, before we get locked out on the third attempt.

I’m going to go and lie down in a darkened room now, that’s if I can remember the door code to get in.

The day that changed me

Sometimes, something happens in your life to send you in an unexpected direction.

In 2005 I was at Donington Park Racing Circuit for the motoGP. On the Thursday prior to the race I had seen there was something called 'The Day of Champions.' I had no idea what it was but decided to go along and see what it was about. It turned out to be a fund raising event for a charity called 'Rider for Health.'

That day was one that changed my life. I signed up for a trip to Africa that would last 14 days and we would ride bikes we had purchased for the event. At the end of the trip we would donate the motorcycles to Riders and they would be shipped to Zimbabwe for the health workers to use. These bikes would allow them to visit many more patients in a day. I don't think at the time I signed up I realised how much of a difference it would make to my life, and potentially those of many people in Zimbabwe. I had signed up for the riding adventure and if that did a little bit of good for a charity, then that was a bonus.

I think the first time that it dawned on me what we had achieved, was when we were crating the bikes ready to ship to Zimbabwe. The then director of operations in Zimbabwe, sat crying as he watched the bikes being dismantled and made ready for shipment. He knew what a difference they would make to the lives of the ordinary people.

When I returned to the UK I volunteered to help at the next Day of Champions, and I have been a volunteer ever since, attending other events and marshalling the ride-in for Day of Champions at Silverstone.

Courtesy of Bonnie Lane Photography © 2015.

This year was different. If you look back in my blog you will see mention of Jeanette Wragg, who sadly passed away this year. The Day of Champions was essentially her baby, she nurtured it into the event it is now. It was the first time I had been involved without Jeanette. It was a tough day for all of us who knew her, and especially for her husband Shaun, and their daughter, Donna, who I have to say took up the reins admirably, and produced another fantastic day.
One of the other volunteers, Helen, summed it up. She said 'You know we can't stop now. We would be letting Jeanette down.' And you know, she's right. We must carry on, for Riders, and Jeanette.

If you want to get some idea of the fantastic work they are doing in sub-Saharan Africa, and to find out more about the Day of Champions, please visit them at www.riders.org
Be careful though, you may find yourself hooked just like the rest of us!