Identity Verified Thinker in Arts / Literature / Contemporary
Sean Urquhart
Sean Urquhart
I am an experienced writer who has worked across a variety of mediums including: screenplay, script editing, prose, poetry,and novelization. I am particularly interested in psychogeography and the scope it gives both academics and creative writers to effectively trade elements of their fields.
 

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Jun. 9, 2017 1:48 pm
Results in, nothing changed much, conservatives in bed with even worse right wingers.  Read More
Jun. 8, 2017 3:40 pm
The party was full of berserkers of differing intensities;bluff hard drinkers in among the hard-line sociopaths, weekend criminals and rootless drifters. I was the anomaly, as was Willie and Anna. Springburn was the poor relation of our usual hang-outs, neglected and uniformly grey, cheap lager and cheaper lives. People looked desperate. I was asked several times where I hailed from, as an...  Read More
Jun. 8, 2017 2:45 pm
Waiting for the gallows, smile upon my face, waiting for the firing squad, laughing all the way. I'm tempted to do the same tonight, as the votes are counted and our collective fates are sealed. Maybe humour is the only response to the carnage that could come, if May has her victory. I foster hope, in the teeth of utter despair.  Read More
Jun. 6, 2017 9:05 pm
Train conversations, awkward, forced, turning conspiratorial, a new friendship, based on a whim, as Glasgow became Crewe. Burdens lifted, ghosts laid to rest, revinvented present tense. Social perma-frosted words, thawed, reappraised. Risking opprobrium. Worth it.  Read More
Jun. 5, 2017 8:42 pm
There were a fair few in that afternoon, conspiracy theorists, slack-wire artists, financial cowboys, tabloid-eyed, some broadsheets as ballast. I slugged in silence, until the silence was broken; stray racism punctuated the ennui, football terrace patter, gullible old stagers, as the losing streaks continued, booking slips littering the floor. It was the end of that part of my life ...  Read More
Jun. 5, 2017 2:45 pm
It was a childhood game; Chinese burns, early years S and M, mild to moderate pain for us kids. And than there was corporal punishment, Pure sadism, pure and simple. Even the European court of human rights had their say, shocked by the abuse of children. It was the last days of my Victorian education, before the Thatcherite Apocalypse and the beginning of the end of the country I...  Read More
Jun. 4, 2017 6:45 pm
June the 8th looms; less than a week to end this era; mired in half truths, screeching tabloid headlines, dog whistle politics. May has ended, let us hope June gives us hope of some sort, the end of this present mob  Read More
Jun. 4, 2017 6:40 pm
The feral woman spitting and swinging at me was real, too damn real. The sleepless nights spent roughing it on Tyneside were real too. That reality shifted many times, narratives were over-written, new memories minted and I almost forget those febrile days. The fear has gone, that palpable fear that rests in the gut and lives long in the mind. These days it's a far cry. A mellow glow. London is...  Read More
Jun. 2, 2017 9:59 am
Democracy is just a concept, very often not employed, but bandied around, like a shibboleth, with no real meaning, by the masters of our fates and futures. One can be easily hoodwinked.  Read More
Jun. 2, 2017 9:53 am
There are many means to fight a war, an unseen enemy, with the media at its disposal, fights with propaganda, lies and unverifiable facts. There are many wars fought on an almost daily basis, fighting for hearts and minds, for votes, for consent, which is easily manufactured. Chomsky was right on that front alone.  Read More
May 31, 2017 10:41 am
It's not a bargain I wanted, nor asked for. Many's the day I've rued the fact that I'm so far from the mainstream, out of step with so-called reality. But then, I can often say what I like, unfettered by work dictum, or regime diktats. it's a freedom that's worth paying a price for, the price of a regular wage, or acceptance by the media of the day.  Read More
May 31, 2017 10:27 am
They all seem to have them; pot pourri policies and detachable conscience, the type that inures them to suffering. Trump is the voice of business and Obama presided over a bombing every 20 minutes, not one of them is innocent. The peace-loving are pilloried and smeared at every turn.  Read More
May 31, 2017 10:18 am
The most evocative of the senses and yet all I smell is engulfed by a tide of raw sewage, the verbal ordure of the likes of May et al; the prattle of shit politics. The slurry of the day, utter rubbish spouted, sparring with invisible enemies, I only wish a change, a small yet seismic change. Smelling the roses, indeed roses thrive in compost, so who knows.  Read More
May 31, 2017 9:57 am
Jeremy Corbyn in power, Scotland independent. The NHS secure, railways once again nationalised. Dreamscapes, only dreamscapes. Pigs flying, pigs flying. Change will be painful, of course, of course, as our forebears and elders sell us down the river. I still see pigs flying overhead, hoping against hope that all shall be well. At least I am in a partnership that is free of cant ...  Read More
May 30, 2017 11:12 am
There is a ghost of a chance we can move out of this morass. Using our votes, our consciences and common will. We need a change, we need a new epoch, no less. Whether we'll get it is academic. I still have hope and a vote.  Read More
May 30, 2017 11:04 am
There is a school of thought that rejects the basics of humanity; empathy, compassion and charity. That is outwith the purview. The Von Hayeks, et al, the greed is good, kick the weak to the gutter sorts, the ones who wrote my future, my present. It's an ill wind they blew and we are still paying for their experimental economics. Humans as mere work units. To hell with them, I will...  Read More
May 29, 2017 3:51 pm
Some people are built to transmit only; not listeners, not empathic. Loudly broadcasting their business. Rattling the ear canals, irritating.  Read More
May 29, 2017 3:45 pm
There seems a surfeit of ill will, western greed, xenophobia, all the negatives lined up, ducks in a row. Advanced media, means we are relayed this information, imblazoned on the memory cells, from mobile to TV screen, the relentless 24 hour feeding frenzy. I've taken to unplugging from it all, in a quiet field there are no screams, no bloodied corpses. There is too much reality, ...  Read More
May 28, 2017 8:04 pm
The public usually deserve better and are found wanting their public servants the ones to constantly disappoint. The past is riddled with them; bright-eyed idealists seduced by power and overladen with PR recasting. There are only so many lies to be retold and they are rolled out with neaseating regularity.  Read More
May 28, 2017 6:48 pm
The dole was never attractive, neither was school; torturous, cruel, fostering brutality and conformity, two wings of the state. The tories' second term was horrible and I was a teenager wasting away on the inside. There was no escape, the assets sold off, Scotland affected more than most parts of the disunited kingdom. Little has changed. Not even I have dulled my anger, in fact...  Read More
May 26, 2017 8:53 am
Writing. Reading. Painting. Repeat. Did any of what I created make sense, make an impact? It doesn't matter. As it's out of necessity I do these things, a matter of will.  Read More
May 26, 2017 8:30 am
We never did get what our forefathers wanted for us; a truly socialist UK, one seeded by Hardie in Scotland. Instead we got competition, bloodless entrepreneurs, Spinners of half-truths, PR slurry from eager and half-witted lips and the legacy of four decades of conservative certainty. Blair didn't help with his rebooted version; New age nonsense, more PR, the odious Campbell et al. ...  Read More
May 26, 2017 8:23 am
It was the best of evenings, part reminiscence, part future-perching. The Rose and Crown a worthy stage, with a panoply of willing actors. Guinness was slugged and the matters of the day put to bed. The past was visited, ghosts buried as the space station soared overhead. Me and Greavsie waved at the astronauts, as Pete the Sweep in his cups, savoured Irish independence. Jack and I...  Read More
May 25, 2017 11:31 am
He was right about the Second Gulf War, just as his plays skewered British society. Yes, Pinter was right and worth listening to. One of the few, one of the few.  Read More
May 25, 2017 11:22 am
The miners were next, after the Falklands 'victory'. Belgrano bombed, school was numbing, we were restive youths, I was too weak, started my truanting habit, one that has lasted into late adulthood, some habits die hard, others burn in the synapses, twist in the guts. It was goodbye to most of Auld Scotia. The new dawn brought industrial-scale unemployment, communities divided by...  Read More
May 25, 2017 10:06 am
Corporal punishment was still with us, had yet to come before Strasbourg. An affront to us children, as more deep cuts were made to education and we were mired in teacher's strikes. They were a rum lot our pedagogues; disaffected, a fair smattering of alcoholics and those miscast. A few stood out, refused to give in to pessimism and I still hold them in high esteem. It was the new dark...  Read More
May 25, 2017 9:57 am
The first wave of factory closures; Linwood decimated, the thread mills not far ahead. Secondary school offered little comfort; corporal punishment and a Darwinist set-up that terrified. Thatcher was not popular, had yet to win The Falklands back to raise her approval ratings. I hid behind McIlvanney novels and listened to XTC dreaming of tomorrow, like there was no today.  Read More
May 24, 2017 2:20 pm
When it comes to the end and I have to be called to account, i whatever form this may take, I tried, I tried. I wrote endless emails and letters to MPs and on behalf of prisoners of conscience. I gave money and my time, to those I felt needed it, still do, when I can. I tried, I tried. Not for any other reason, than to be as human as I could. It didn't always work and I had many...  Read More
May 24, 2017 1:07 pm
The echo of a smile, the trace of a greeting, the handshake that means nothing, the grand gesture; empty in all but name. I've met them, still meet them, those insincere merchants, patter-churning, clear-eyed con men and women. After all it's an equal ops world, so I'm told. They've allowed me to gaze into their sanctums, but have never been fully admitted. Too unruly, too...  Read More
May 24, 2017 11:29 am
Never really the absolute end, just a break in the endless fighting, an oasis in the city.  Read More
 
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