Category Archives: a day in the life

Day to day thoughts, tickling my fancy. The random stream of chattering consciousness striding royally through me each day.

it’s just plain taxing…

I have to warn you – this will be a rant (hence the ‘category’ of ‘rant’).

For those of finer sensibilities, or who prefer to only read the less rant-acious blogs, turn away now. Read something from the ‘poetry’ category, take up table tennis, or learn the ancient martial art of navel-gazing (one of my favourite ‘down-time’ pastimes).

Still reading? Cool. So here goes.

First the facts:
1. I am a single full-time working parent.
2. My daughter lives with me 7 days a week.
3. I earn more than 44k a year (whoopti-doo, I hear you say. Just bear with me, this is all going somewhere.)

Now the punchline:
1. I presently get £80 a month ‘child tax credit’. That is the full extent of the financial assistance the government (which I have paid for during my 15 years working in England) gives to me. £80 per month. That’s it.
2. Because I earn more than £44k a year, I will lose my £80 per month child tax credit come June. That’s right, all gone. Supposedly, I don’t need it anymore. Thanks coallition government!
3. If I lived with a partner with both of us earning £44k (total annual household income of £88k) we would together receive £160 per month child tax credit, even after June. Nice, eh?

So, according to the government, the magic number is £44k.

And if two people earn less than this live together, they need financial support from our tax money, whereas I don’t (I do not take home anywhere £88k, although it would be really nice if I did!).

So there you have it.

Oh, and the coallition government also brought a stealth income tax increase in during this year, meaning someone earning more than £40k pays an additional £100 per month in tax… Because we can obviously afford it.

Where is this money going? I hear you ask.

Better schools? More libraries? Higher paid doctors and nurses? Public infrastructure? Paying the needy or elderly to be able to live better?

Nope.

This money is the debt we inherited because some idiot in the previous government (Brown…) decided it was a good idea to blow your and my money on failing banks. “Good money after bad money.” Interesting decision.

So, fundamentally, I lose £80 per month, Hounslow closes 8 out of 10 libraries (four of which were either just refurbished or rebuilt in the last 12 months!), we lose police, schools lose funding, local communities and charities lose funding, to line the pockets of already rich bankers.

The same bankers who gambled and lost our money in the first place. (Note, they did NOT lose their own money at all – neither the first or the second time, because most high-end bankers pay next to nothing in tax – 20% at most on maybe part of what they earn.)

That’s all.

Screw the working class, the middle earners. Tax them harder, remove their benefits. Let the gambling continue in the markets. (And before anyone self-righteously accuses me of cashing in on the scramble for cash then stabbing those gambling ‘heroes’ in the back when it all fell apart; I did not ever buy any shares, aside from the “option” to buy shares of a company I once worked in which was actually part of the pension scheme.)

And of course hike up the cost of commuting, electricity, gas…

I don’t want to pay for some gamblers to continue to burn our world economy.

Rant over! 🙂

Back to happy self.

Back to rewriting. 😉

Til next time, keep breathing easy,

mE (Em)

grey hairs

To punch a wall,
Light a cigareete, deep
Breathe, inhale, feel
The burn bite deep in
Throat, taste the sour
Acrid smoke, nurse the
Bloody knuckles, and
Wonder where the basest
Emotions spring from, within
This chest, from under breast,
Deep inside the core, need
I say anything more?

What caged lionmonster
Paces within, growing older
Days shorter, growing double chin,
The tea-time Sunday of life’s
Short weekend, the 30’s half-
Way done, teens long past,
The forties bearing down, all
Too fast, hair thinning, greys
Sprouting, don’t know about
Innings, yet it’s been a good
Outing, so far, not so bad, yet
Somehow still quite sad, not just
What I’d hoped for, yet more
Happiness than ever had, this
Stillness, a dream, this patience
Like steam from the shower,
Leaving skin soaked clean through,
Not half of life lived, the yoke sat
Quite skew, dragging half of me
Down, no lower than ground,
Which in my own personal health,
Is as good as could be hoped
For lower than that I have been
For so long, that ground level is
At least solid, something strong.

A place to stand, but not for
Long, for the changes that
Come, as we grow each old tonight
Bring the dawn of a new day, the
Taste of the future, though teasing
Still bright, blinding me to my
Own, still feeling for what is right,
Striking out on my own, no fear
Is the only way forward, for fear
Is the ultimate leach of the soul,
Crippling our very being through
Unfair weight and poor sight.

This is not the end, nor even
The beginning. This is the middle,
Time to start building. Foundation
Is strong, bricks easily formed,
Mortar of tears thickened by years
Of being bourne.

And me in the middle, still young,
Laughing, as the walls of a new
Place grow all around, this is me
This is mine, it is home which I
Have found.

Home, to build
On finally solid ground.

junk jettisoned, ebooks printed…and all’s well

This is just a quickie…I know, I know, usually it takes a good couple of dates, some wining and dining, a few smiles, a hug, a kiss a cuddle…and then onto the final frontier…space…or at least what’s left of it aside from the junk we jettison out there as the ultimate chav planet in the galaxy…but more on that later.

(No, more on that now! Are those in charge of disposing of earth’s rubbish the same senseless oiks who dump old refrigerators in front of their homes on the off chance someone else wants it, or maybe the neighbours will get fed up enough – as I sometimes do – and clear it to the dump themselves? Seriously! If I was an alien race hell-bent on world domination, or just a friendly neighborhood alien race looking to drop in on the newbies and see how they are settling in, whether the kids have found school to be tough, or even just to borrow a few million gallons of oil, and I saw the rubbish floating around our planet by way of dead satellites, space waste, jettisoned rubbish and general debris that we humans have surrounded our planet with…well, I would think twice about visiting. Do you regularly go meet and greet neighbours who have old kitchen sinks dumped in their front gardens? Think about it! We could be missing out on the evolutionary-jump of a sentient race which thinks we are the chavs of the Milky Way…and we’ll never know…and now back to our regular broadcast…)

What was I on about? Oh, yes, I’ve published three compilations of, well, stuff from this blog as ebooks on Amazon – just search for ‘Emerson Freedman’ on amazon, or type in ‘Poemetics’…or even just click on one of the three links to those books on Amazon on the rigth hand side here…no not there…over to the…yeah…to the…to the right…your other right…yeah, there, the ‘Poemetics’, ‘A Day in the Life’ and ‘Storytology’ links. Yup. Those. No, you can’t download them for free. They cost a whole £0.71. Not cause I’m greedy. Cause Amazon don’t do free ebooks. Go figure. Cheapest I could make them….no really…it was….whatever.

So, go on, have a look, download them, let me know what you think. Share them with a friend. This is the first foray into epublishing for me…the first ‘real’ epublishing books I created…by way of Word to Plain Text to Jutoh to Amazon…cool stuff, eh?

Let me know what you think. Feedback is always appreciated. Even if it is not precisely what I want to hear. (The truth is not always pretty, I know. But if you’re going to be honest, go easy…I am more fragile than I look!)

Til next time, bon nuit,

Em (mE)

depressing pictures of perfection

I know that pictures of perfect women are said to cause upset and distress with the younger generation who try and emulate the bullshit airbrushed perfection they see. But give a thought to us single men who see those pictures and think, “I would be happy with someone comfortable, stop selling me perfection, I don’t want it.”

Am I the only one who gets depressed by pictures of perfection?

Blast from the past – Anthrax at Starbucks in 2007

I caught Anthrax at Starbucks

On a day like any other,
with nothing much to do,
I found myself at Starbucks,
at a table, built for two.

Chatting around the subject,
Of money I didn’t have,
A subject only lit,
By the company that I shared,
The conversation was winding down,
When I looked up and they were there.

They agreed to take a picture,
We chatted for a while,
About New York and weather,
And travelling in style.

I must say, for Gods of Rock,
They’re the friendliest of blokes,
They even had the good grace,
To laugh at my stupid jokes.

So the next time you have a go,
At Americans impolite,
Or brazenly telling you something,
That you know is just not right,
Remember the moral of this tale,
That looks can be deceiving,
I only wished I had asked for back stage passes,
Before I saw them leaving!

I may never have the pleasure,
Of meeting you all again,
But I want to say a great big ‘Thank You!’
To Joey Belladonna and his Crew.
(And to the grumpy git,
Who ran out before the picture lit,
Thank you too!)

Because at the very end,
Running out to say goodbye,
I shook everyone’s hand,
Said my fare thee well,
And grinned my way all the way home,
With an awesome story to tell!

EF 03/12/07