Snap, Crackle and Bop

Reaquainting myself with the tune "Beasley Street" - spoken word angst of hip post-punk poet John Cooper-Clark, who I shot on film with a lens I should have kept. There are more images somewhere in the Brinecave. His Mancurian eloquence captured the social disintegration of the British north during the Thatcher era in. (Think early Joy Division, or even Pink Floyd Animals)

Eyes dead as viscous fish

Look around for laughs

If I could have just one wish

I would be a photograph

on a permanent Monday morning

Get lost or fall asleep

When the yellow cats are yawning

Around the back of Beasley Street "

from the album Snap, Crackle and Bop 1980

The song is the antithesis of the sunny joy of rolling around the brine on a board in the sun, but an occasional listen reminds me just how good life is in Brinetopia. Today's shout out goes to all those dedicated volunteers doing their bit for their sick, thirsty, hungry and socially marginalised brothers and sisters. A couple of groups spring to mind:

Doctors Without Borders, Oxfam, WaterAid. I love my whales and dolphins, but I love my fellow humans more.