Philosophers spend much of their time (I assume based on little to no research) sat in Parisian cafes, smoking filterless cigarettes, drinking small cups of intensely black coffee and considering the nature of humanity. A process of inductive reasoning must take place. A noticing of an idiosyncrasy that turns out to be more common than …
Having been a teacher for too long, I have seen many awful student performances. Many where either nerves or a gross overestimation of ability has led to those protracted silences that forces everyone in the audience to smile fixedly for the duration. You can see people desperately fighting the urge to look at their phone …
One of my many flaws is that I can't seem to leave an argument alone. My younger brother uses it to great effect whenever he wants to wind me up, adopting a ludicrous position, arguing dismissively and then smiling broadly when I take him seriously and get on my high horse. His pleasure is drawn …
Being a parent is - largely - an exercise in becoming everything you hate. I hate people who try to desperately live their unfulfilled dreams through their children. You know the type. They're the ones at their kid's sports match, screaming obscenities at a huddled bunch of five-year olds for some minor technical infringement. The …
It's a warm day in the middle of summer. A blonde haired toddler is showing off his new-found ability to throw rocks into a hole in the ground to the amusement of his dad and older cousin, two young boys scamper cheekily through some flowers giggling as they do, a beloved uncle pesters a hapless …
In Haruki Murakami's short story Sleep the female protagonist suffers a bout of insomnia that lasts for weeks. Rather than crippling her with fatigue she finds strength in her nocturnal existence, realising that she has become a crushing stereotype of the Japanese housewife; dutifully making love to her dull, dentist husband, refusing alcohol because he didn't …
London, 1940. The wail of air-raid sirens signals another attack by the Luftwaffe. The screaming noise is punctuated by the dull percussive thud of bombs. Just on the edge of hearing the angry bee-swarm-hum of propeller engines provide a droning bass note; ceaselessly framing the other sounds in hateful monotone. Nights are spent lying in …
I remember driving home one night from town along the Srinakarin road - a major thoroughfare running south away from Bangkok towards Samut Prakan. It was a few days before my first child was born and we'd been out with friends, enjoying zesty Thai curries and sipping soft drinks whilst our companions got stuck into …
One of the absolute joys of living in Thailand is how much the Thai people adore kids, especially blonde-haired farang toddlers. Apart from the innate sense of paternal pride at watching your youngster being doted on by numerous people it has a number of benefits. Firstly, for a brief moment in time the boy is preoccupied with …
Time is often described by Buddhists and fantasy writers of a certain stripe as being a wheel. A constant, unending revolving reel of events that, whilst discrete, are connected. One leads inexorably to another. The other is shaped by the first. And so on, and so on. That which was will be. That which …
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