JohnDom departed, and is LilburneCummings gone! Farewell to LilburneCummings, and farewell to JohnDom... But lay JohnDom here, lay LilburneCummings here about, For if they ever meet they will fall out.
Durham: 21st Century
He reads his greats reclining in his den. He dreams of government by better men. Gell Man sings hymns of Odyssean ways. Sun Tzu describes the strategies in play. He loathes the wheel that crushes freeborn folk And yearns to save them from their heavy yoke. The Mays, the SPADS, the Blob his frequent plaint: Those oafs! They’re blind to all elitist taint. His library the bleeding edge on them. His hideaway, a rural outpost kind, And near to pubs and common wat’ring holes Where freeborn folk express their heartfelt yen To leave the union, leave it far behind, And in so leaving salve their aching souls.
Durham: 20th Century
From the perspective of the booth he sees the flower of Durham’s youth, mildewed and black-flied and only rarely mixed with slugs and leches. They hand over to him hard-earned, deriving from parents or weekend jobs. They range from the cocksure to the surly but they calm at the booth, by-and-large, as they give up their spond: they all want in. Phil is free to roam and survey the bar upstairs, the dancefloor down; he keeps an eye on the lads on the door. In late '87, it nearly killed the place, a proper charver, Spennymoor lad, kicking off, was forcibly ejected, put on his head instead of his arse, and cobbles not noted for being forgiving the calls of “night-night son” took on a darker hue when said lad’s death was pronounced in the Journal. He likes the count at the end of the night and the sense of being in the control centre. He’s watched the film, Phil urged it on him, Jane Fonda won an Oscar for playing a prostitute. Wonders which was the inspiration for the image, hard-boiled noir or slappers? This being Durham, land of the Prince Bishops, final home of Cuthbert’s travelling corpse, gown spilling from the Castle and Cathedral, town cabbing in from pit villages, some of them Cat 4, black-lung places, some of them named for the Normans who built the vast edifice on the hill, Petit Me (little sea), Chester-le-Street, and the Saxons who named Consett, (Phileas Fogg crisps, remember them?) and the Danes, who sent Cuthbert on the run, but only made homes in Raby and Ulnaby well to the south – this being Durham the latter seems the more likely. This stuff sticks, ancient history, perhaps, a classical education, to get him out and beyond, to the south, where he plans to modernise his learning.
The door to Stone’s room must be kept open, his teaching no longer covert, a dossier compiled by women’s officers has recorded his reputed acts: his extra-curricular tutelage brooks no further encryption. This is the compromise that Exeter accepts. For now, at least. Dom coughs and is told to enter (“Don’t lurk, I hate lurkers”) and takes his seat Alongside Pet on the sofa, ready for the ding-dong. Stone likes to argue, Dom too, Advocating for the devil or whichever side Takes the fancy of each: morality Is for bores when there is cut-and-thrust to be had.
Freeborn Dom came out to play, Alas, alack, alack-a-day, He had a lot too much to say, On education. His bold and brave statement That race and attainment Were in close alignment Had... implications. Dom’s “truth” was a challenge to liberal cant. His tome ragged; it became a rant Co-opting experts to supplant Meek right-think. But Dom had read only certain books, Not everything; and where he looked Defined his thought, which brooked No contest. Disqualified science lurks beneath Reason’s camouflage of racist belief (intake of breath and sucking of teeth - I’ll put it out there: It all depends on the sources you use The same as if reporting news You can cut your cloth to support your views If you’re a "maverick" ).
Fuck Lacan and fuck the Blob, Fuck the Beeb - Turbo, shut your gob! Don't peer under the bonnet Coz what you'll find is NO oedipal shit - are you out of your mind? Read popular science and biographies Of great men and their great strategies. Fuck Princess Nutnut, and fuck your views, Up with Caino! Fuck the rest of you.