The Uncertainty Principle

We're trainspotters/we're not trendsetters

I met a hero of mine yesterday. I haven't ever thought of my list of "famous-ish people I would like to meet", despite my liking for turning ephemera and petty personal judgements into epic orders of precedence. The reason for this, I imagine, is that meeting people you idolise must, inevitably be disappointing. Unless, that is, they invite you out for a meal and offer you a book deal/record contract/ your own philosophical chat-show mini series. Yes. Damn you Peter Singer for never answering my letters.

On the train back to London Paddington from my homeland, I was reading a bit and thinking about trains. I still can't drive. Neither can my parents and so most family holidays were spent pissing about on trains. For this they will always hold a special place in my heart. I suppose walking past St Pancras everyday, and always heading South West from Paddington has made me more aware of the might of nineteenth century railway engineering. Because of this, and my time in Bristol, I was thinking about Isambard Kingdom Brunel. Particularly about whether he could and did actually play billiards all the way to Bristol because the track was so smooth. Secondly, I was wondering whether I could give one of my offspring the middle name Isambard, and whether I could crank out a Haiku loosely based around this anecdote.

At this moment I looked up and saw a man who looked an awful lot like John Hegley. I thought about it for a bit. It was John Hegley. He was sitting half a carriage away from me and we were getting close to Reading, were he could leave my train and walk out of my life. I don't believe in fate. But this was fate. I had missed the train I was actually due to get by a minute, and this was my payback for sitting around in Bristol Temple Meads for a sodding hour in the drizzle.

I wanted to chat to him about my favourite poems, but he looked busy making marks on a manuscript. I wanted to say briefly how amazing his live show was in Oxford in 2002 - and could he give me a quick rendition of 'Eddie Don't Like Furniture'? But it was the quiet carriage. I settled on a bit of paltry autograph-hunting, but only had some work related material and a slim novel with me. My actual exchange was brief, polite and short.

My 1950s second hand copy of The Ministry of Fear now bear's the immortal legend on the title page "This is Jake's Book. Signed, John Hegley".

You can buy the below poem 'Kingdom Comes' on a mug via his website:

Isambard Kingdom dug down
To Wapping from Rotherhithe Town
He tunnelled the Thames
and this unearthly gem's
A jewel in Isambard's crown
(Although he's actually better known for his hat)

You've got to pay your dues, before you pay the rent

"Give up, just quit, because in this life, you can't win. Yeah, you can try,
but in the end you're just gonna lose, big time, because the world is run by the
Man. The Man, oh, you don't know the Man? He's everywhere. In the White House... down the hall... Ms. Mullins, she's the Man. And the Man ruined the ozone, he's burning down the Amazon, and he kidnapped Shamu and put her in a chlorine tank! And there used to be a way to stick it to the Man. It was called rock 'n roll, but guess what, oh no, the Man ruined that, too, with a little thing called MTV! So don't waste your time trying to make anything cool or pure or awesome 'cause the Man is just gonna call you a fat washed up loser and crush your soul" – Dewey Finn, School of Rock

Make some sense of present tense alright

Open Letter to the Tory Party

Dear Tory,

I like a giggle. Even more than this, I like giggling at your expense. However, this was really poor. I know this is late, but I thought you would appreciate my ever incisive analysis.

I can appreciate your leader's problems. On the one hand, given that no one joins political parties anymore, least of all yours, you need to encourage local party activism wherever it takes place. On the other hand, your party's local activism is usually one set-piece of reactionary idiocy after another.

Of course a Party leadership shouldn't parachute in candidates over the top of local party feelings, but hey! What can you do, with the kind of local feeling you get in your neck of the woods?

I like Labour winning elections, but couldn't you keep them on their toes a bit more? You have had some top chances to do something sensible, only to piss your opportunities away into a big empty pot. Admittedly, I don't like a lot of you, but from what I know about Huskisson, Peel and Disraeli, you guys had it going on at one stage. I imagined that you thought electing Howard leader would placate the far right nutters in your party, who basically believe government is not qualified to spend any money or do anything except dissolve itself and let the nation be run by a bunch of Daily Mail readers on rotating jury panels. But it hasn't.

Michael Portillo saw the light; Thatcherite to Disralian one-nation Tory in one easy election defeat. So come on, elect a gay Spaniard to lead you. That is what you need. Job done.

You may also wish to advise your PPCs not to wear those plaid shirts you get out of the back of the Sunday Times colour supplement. I would find it easier to take them seriously.

Yours, etc.

P.S. If one more person makes the suggestion that consultation via text message will involve young people in "politics", I may well go mad.

P.P.S. This is all a bit alarming, no? Anyone read any Orwell?

P.P.P.S I know mocking the Tories at the moment is an easy and unimaginative way of spending one's time, but that is not a reason not to do it.