Revolution number 9.
As I’ve done every year, when the approximate date of my lurch from decomposing drug addict toward slightly less decaying, ex-drug addict arrives, I post a little memo on social media.
Ok, that’s not strictly true, 9 years ago ‘social media’ was more akin to finding a discarded newspaper on the bus, than the “Here’s a photograph of my lunch” minute by minute commentary of today. As I recall, nobody posted pictures of pie and mash on Myspace did they?
I recently ‘revisited’ the White album by the Beatles and rather than skip through Revolution9, thought I’d actually give it a listen. Can you call it a song? Lennon said he was “painting in sound, a picture of revolution”, I always thought it was something to listen to while you were on acid and wanted to freak yourself out to the point you might never want to trip again? But he’s John Lennon and I’m not so maybe he knew what he was talking about? For the record, it wasn’t listening to Rev9 that stopped me doing acid, it was a night ‘trapped’ in the Boleyn Pub in West Ham while ripped to the gills on 2 purple ohms, but that’s a story for another day.
Anyway, nine years clean supported throughout by my fellows in Narcotics Anonymous and Revolution 9 goes up on my Facebook page, the final muttering of that track being
“Take this brother, may it serve you well”
The disjointed cacophony of the song seems like an appropriate way to describe the mental-lunacy I entered into recovery with, the result of the help received ever since, hopefully acknowledged by the posting of ‘And your bird can sing’. I’m pleased to report, that by following some of the suggestions people have empowered me with along the way; I more often experience mental harmony than noise these days, apart from when Liverpool lose and Tabitha is in a sulk about something.
While I’m on the subject of ‘lunacy’;
I’ve been accused of being an anti-Semite this week due to my online protestations regarding what I consider to be a community issue here in Stamford Hill. For those of you not au fait with the area, it is home to one of the world’s largest orthodox Jewish communities and as such, can seem a little ‘out of step’ with many people’s idea of the ‘modern’ world. On the same day I was nearly killed for the second time in 48 hours, by a member of the ‘community’ driving while texting on his mobile phone, a faction within that community was in the media spotlight due to the introduction of a religious law banning women from that particular ‘sect’ from driving.
My observation, is that the use of mobile phones while driving and the lack of use of seat-belts particularly where kids are involved, is a regular occurrence within the Orthodox community. My Facebook post became a much commented on thread, for the most part by people who have lived/worked/driven in the area and who were in total agreement, but…there’s always one isn’t there?
This particular ‘rent-a gob-apologist’ quickly decided I was a raging anti-Semite who clearly has nothing better to do than complain about this issue. (Apparently he could provide statistics proving it to be non-existent.) I guess you can make anything appear different from how it actually is in reality, when you yourself have nothing better to do the trawl the internet for ‘stats’ from the comfort of your (mums) house, while at the same time, admitting to have never actually been anywhere near the area/community in question. People who know me well, will tell you I am certainly anything but, “the clearly racist” antagonist my accuser labelled me. In fact, the ‘why I don’t take acid anymore’ story I alluded to earlier in this blog actually occurred on the same night I’d been chased through the East-End by some cretins from the BNP after ‘we’ (the anti-Nazi league) had prevented them from staging a gig in honor of the long dead singer from the VERY racist band Skrewdriver (sic). My grandfather was a Jew, his parents, both Jews. I am a huge believer in our multi-cultural society and I am also a big ‘fan’ of direct action where appropriate. When I witness on a day to day basis, something that clearly needs addressing in ‘our’ community, I have the absolute right to speak my mind about it. Surely this is at the core of the democracy we desire here, the democracy that allows us religious freedom and tolerance? I don’t have much time for the practices of religious fundamentalism in any form, I’m not really a ‘fan’ of religion full stop, but neither am I going to accept that the lives of my daughter and I be risked every time we get in my car and head out on the school run.
If I was a resident elsewhere in the UK, I’d accept some kind of scrutiny as to my motives, but as I have lived in Stamford Hill for nearly 5 years, my accuser can fuck off. If I was to actually, no wait! Make that, WHEN I witnessed a gang of kids constantly behaving in an anti-social and/or dangerous way, I tried to do something about that too. Maybe the simple solution to this problem, would be to ask the same Rabbi whose edict banned the women from driving, to remind his followers that not wearing seatbelts and not using a mobile phone while driving is also banned here in England?
*gets off soapbox*
In other news, I’m back onstage with two more performances of my show..
TOO HIGH TOO FAR TOO SOON
SIMON MASON’S ACCLAIMED ONE MAN SHOW OF HIS MEMOIR
JULY 1ST & 2ND – THE WATER RATS, LONDON
‘There’s a fine line between fantasy and reality. Problem is, I snorted it.’
Festival frolics, backstage antics, cans of lager and enough chemicals for a pharmaceuticals factory. Based on his acclaimed memoir, writer-performer Simon Mason recounts the madcap adventures of a wannabe rock star and supplier of party favours to Britpop aristocracy. Confession, comedy and song combine to recall an iconic era in British music and one man’s journey to avoid reality.
‘A remarkable memoir’ Evening Standard
The book was chosen by Norman Baker, previous Minister of State for Crime Prevention as his favourite from the top 50 books on drugs and addiction.
‘Nothing’s more boring than a drugs memoir. Not this one though…’ – Irvine Welsh
‘A touching and humorous book’ Russell Brand
Performing at The Water Rats gives the performance particular poignancy as in one of its previous incarnations as The Splash Club; it was the venue where Oasis first took London by storm and where some of the key scenes in Simon’s story actually took place.
‘..A happy meeting of emotional and intellectual engagement.Raw, with Simon Mason utterly compelling and sympathetic as a performer’ – Theatre Bubble *****
“The combination of Simon Mason’s gripping performance of his helter skelter journey through addiction and into recovery was perfectly complimented by Cathy Sloane’s imaginary direction. There’s no doubt Phil Fox’s legacy continues.” – Jimmy Page, patron Outside Edge Theatre Company