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Truth is a Cruel Mistress

Le baiser de l’Hotel de Ville‘, 1950, Robert Doisneau.


Truth is a Cruel Mistress.

By David Milligan-Croft.


Sometimes, I imagine life like a romantic fairy tale.

There’ll be a pounding at my door.

I’ll go to answer it,

And it will be you – standing

In the pouring rain – breathless,

A suitcase in your hand.


Or, I am walking down the corridor

At work. And I’ll hear my name

Being called. I’ll turn around, and it’s you,

Statuesque, and ready to run

Toward me.


Perhaps my phone rings. It’s you. (Of course.)

There’s silence.


Then you say,

‘I need to see you.’


Then, I remember that life isn’t a 90-minute

Hollywood trope.

It’s real. And so is 

The fact that you left your job

So you would never have to see me again.


The fact, that I haven’t spoken to you since,

The fact, that I haven’t heard your voice since,

The fact, that I haven’t read your words since,

The day,

I told you that you had mistaken my love

For kindness.


You ran

As fast, and as far,

As you could

In the opposite direction.

The mere thought of me, repugnant to you.


Truth is a cruel mistress.

So I button my coat

And step outside.

The morning sun warms my face.

I hold out my hand to take yours.

I turn to you and smile.

You smile too.

And we walk into a brand new day.


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Filed under Art, Contemporary Arts, Creativity, Ideas, Innovation, Inspiration, love, mental health, Poetry, Uncategorized, Writing

#158/365 – The Beautiful Game.

Yes, I’m talking about football.

And no, my American chums, not your kind of football where you use your hands, I’m talking about our kind of football where we use our foots. (Why don’t they call it Feetball?)


Unfortunately, that’s about as good as it gets for the English national team because they’re actually not very good at using their feet.

That said, it doesn’t stop me admiring the skills of the foreign players who grace the Premier League or indeed, the classy sides in the Champions League.

One of the reasons England won’t stand a chance of winning the World Cup is that FIFA have brought in this stupid rule which means you have to actually be English to play for the national team. That’s game over right there.

Take the recent warm up match against Peru – our man of the match was goalie, Joe Hart. (Even though it was actually given to Sturridge who was very poor despite his cracking goal.)

Let’s have a little player rating, shall we?


It was rhetorical.

Joe Hart 8/10. Man of the match, for me. Busier than the Peruvian keeper. Jagielka owes him big time.

Glen Johnson -8/10. Yes, that’s minus 8. He was a liability and certainly played like a man who has no competition for his place. Constantly lost possession. Worst player on the pitch. Kyle Walker – you are sorely missed.

Leighton Baines 0/10. Provided no width on the left wing. Rarely got forward.

Gary Cahill 7/10. Was the only decent defender on the pitch.

Phil Jagielka -5/10. Another liability. And against better teams would have probably been responsible for us conceding 2 or 3 goals. Owes Joe Hart a night on the beer. (They’ll probably do that night before the Italy game.)

Steven Gerrard -5/10. Constantly gave the ball away by over-hitting passes.

Jordan Henderson -2/10. Perhaps didn’t lose possession quite as much as Gerrard, but did he actually pass the ball forward at any stage during the game?

Lallana 0/10. Completely ineffective. Which was a shame as I have high hopes for him.

Wellbeck -4/10. Constantly lost possession. I don’t think Hodgson realised he was playing otherwise he would have subbed him after four minutes. Looked about as menacing as 16 stone streaker.

Rooney -6/10. Actually was a 16 stone streaker. Looked very short of match practice. Gave the ball away at every opportunity. Had the first touch of a newborn giraffe on crystal meth.

Sturridge 2/10. Only gets into positive figures for his cracking goal. The rest of the time he was hapless.

I can’t be arsed doing the subs. Life’s too short.

You wouldn’t have thunk we won 3 – nil. T’was a tad flattering.

England’s main problem was their first touch. (And their second, third etc.) They were set up like a Spanish team yet can’t seem to be able to control a ball without having to take three touches and have a minimum amount of space around them akin to the turning circle of a Passat estate.

“I was delighted with England’s performance,” said the Italian, Uruguayan and Costa Rican coaches.

Look on the bright side, England: at least after the group games you’ll get to spend a couple of weeks on the Copacabana. But please, don’t try beach footy, you’ll only make twats of yourselves.



Filed under community, Football, Inspiration

Top 10 Sci-Fi films of all time.

Okay, we had my top 10, (ahem), love films of all time. So, I thought it was about time to man-up a bit and post – what I think – are the 10 best Sci-fi movies of all time – ever. To infinity and back.

Now, you may beg to differ with my chosen cinematic behemoths. And, if you do, you’d be wrong. However, feel free to enlighten me to any classics I’ve missed.

Cop hunts robots. Falls in love with robot. He might be a robot.

“Open the pod bay doors, Al.” A classic from Kubrick and Arthur C. Clarke. “Open ’em yourself, yer lazy get.”

Epic empirical wars over life-giving spice [oil].

Things go frustratingly awry for Sam in this bureaucratic dystopia.

Man goes back in time to protect mother of future leader of resistance against robots. Pursued by Terminator, our hero ends up being the dad of the future leader. Eh? So, if he didn’t go back in the, oh forget it.

Rescue ship finds missing spaceship that can create black holes. Unfortunately, the black hole it created led to hell.

I’m still biting my nails over this deep-space thriller.

Who says sci-fi can’t be funny? Worth a view just for the orgasmatron.

Well, I liked it. No nasty aliens. No blood and guts. Just ethical questions about god and science.

Nothing is real, you know. Should be a documentary rather than a movie.












Filed under Comedy, Film, Ideas, Inspiration, Screenplays