BEATS OF LOVE
166. N'Né Menika by Kassiry
MY MOTHER always took great delight in labelling me as a pseudo intellectual.
She was damn right, of course, as I just read a lot and combined what I'd read with what folk told me in the pub or club. And coz I was drunk, I'd be loud about it too. Of course there's a pattern to this self-deception as I only ever finished solving my Rubik's cube by peeling away the stickers.
Understandably then, OU study was a bit of a shaming exercise as I comprehended less and less. Going quieter and quieter the more I learned. One of the last conversations I had with my mother ended with her announcing that the state had failed me. It was touching and explains the massiv support and now feels poignant as what was an ordeal almost ended could now be just beginning. Since studying I read a lot and listen to what folk don't say. It's why my MP's office losing its tongue is concerning. Suggesting it supports moving the goalposts on people's lives. Lives that clearly meant more to them in opposition.
The tragedy is that in Starmer we have a leader who thinks a problem of state is a Rubik's cube and that it will fascinate the public watching him solve it. Sadly, it isn't, the problems he faces are infinite by comparison and require political conviction, not logic. As he tediously solves one problem; he creates another which betrays folks' trust. Folk, who, like us, are often at its mercy. Next year I will try to plan for a positive outcome in the UK whilst simultaneously readying myself for more venturous change overseas.
As I became smarter, my mother stopped labelling me a pseudo intellectual, preferring instead the term odd bod.
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