Of Moggies and Garbagemen.

Buddy is a placid little moggy. He loves nothing more than to stroll around his stretch of land in a solitary, dignified manner; playing Cowcats and Indians with spiders through grassland, checking on the ladybugs welfare, and generally gliding through life with the ease of a Buddhist monk, enjoying a peaceful summer's afternoon in the gardens of his temple. 

Fatty is just as compassionate a feline, but his rough upbringing has left him the temperamental, hothead of the duo. While Buddy is happy to engage and allow all the creatures of nature upon his land, Fatty - who he shares this paradise with, carries a strict policy of ‘My turf, my rules. I decide who visits, and I decide who doesn’t!’ He doesn't do this because he is hateful, just fearful of his trust being abused. 

On the odd occasion, this leads to disagreements between the two; especially when Robyn the Robin comes to visit every July - who Fatty still hasn't forgiven for waking him from a very important snooze. But in general, Fatty turns a blind eye to Buddy’s accepted visitors, as Buddy is his only true friend; who understands while a moody moggy, Fatty means well, has a good heart, and once saved him from attack by stinging nettles. 

There is one visitor however, both remain in total agreement should never cross their lands. He is an enemy the entire cat world have mused over defeating throughout the ages; yet never finding a solution. An adversary who, once a week – destroys the vital serenity of their morning meditations… the dustbin-man, and his rubbish eating monster cart of doom! Buddy is wise, and knows defeating this Goliath is virtually impossible, therefore has learned to begrudgingly accept this machine is too strong to defeat, with intense stares from behind the sofa; much as he tried in previous years. Fatty, on the other hand – is both gifted and cursed in his stubborn refusal to give in, and because of this, has a plan to defeat their mortal enemy; a plan which never works, but also never weakens his resolve.

And every Wednesday morning, this is exactly what happens. The loud screech of the dustbin-man turns up in his monster cart of doom; followed by its evil hooman mercenaries, who no longer worship the cat gods. Fatty – regularly awoken from his deep mediations, decides to show the dustbin-men who is boss, and expresses his deep dissatisfaction by throwing the monster cart intense glares from behind the sofa. Hoping this strongest of messages will scare them off, he finds the dustbin-man turn up yet again a week later; regular as clockwork. Fatty is disappointed, but not a quitter; and will continue the stares as he considers further options of attrition.

The evolved Buddy, on the other hand, learns to defeat the monster by ignoring it. And when the dustbin man arrives each week, he simply distracts himself by visiting my Facebook writing page; which he asks you to join by clicking HERE. He is an admin, and asked me to write this; secretly hoping Fatty may decide to follow this path. Like all good creatures, Buddy firmly believes in free-will; he also believes in Fatty…

If you enjoyed this article, CLICK HERE and Like my Official Fan Page.

The Fantastic Mister Terry Fox.

"Running the Marathon of Hope"

To run 5373 kilometres (3338 miles) in the space of 143 days requires extraordinary willpower. To do so at the age of 21 on one leg, and with the intention of raising $1 million in cancer research – with no sponsorship, general interest, and while suffering from the debilitating nature of a disease you are trying to help defeat, is an achievement beyond words – as much as it is rational thinking. Which is why the story I am about to tell is all the more remarkable;, because if it had been written as fiction, you wouldn't believe in real life it were possible....

Terry Fox was born in 1958 in Winnipeg, Canada. An active, athletic child, at the age of 18 he developed cancer in his right leg; requiring amputation six inches above the knee. During the next 16 months of recovery and chemotherapy at the British Columbia Cancer Control Agency, Terry - whose fight alone would have caused great sympathy amongst those he met, looked outward with a selfless compassion far beyond his teenage years. Surrounded by the often fatal cancers of those much younger than himself - as well as finding it too much to ignore, he viewed himself as one of the lucky ones. 

Inspired by the story of an amputee completing the New York Marathon, Terry devised the “Marathon of Hope”. A challenge in which he planned to run the entire 5,000 miles of Canada to raise an initial $1 million dollars – which eventually evolved into $24 million ($1 dollar for every Canadian citizen), for cancer research, the run required 14 months of training and  - considering the lack of finance, general interest, difficulty, and Terry's amputation and age, may have seemed absurd. But miracles are always considered crazy before its magical wind catches the world – and Terry was driven by heart, desire, and the deepest overriding factor on his side; faith.

On April 12th, 1980 - finally ready to begin his journey, Terry dipped his artificial leg into the Atlantic ocean to begin his coast-to-coast quest across Canada. With only his close friend Doug Alward and his camper van beside him for rest, refreshment and company, the first two months were met with little more than the meagre yet well-intentioned donations from those who happened to see this brave young man on one leg, forcing himself through daily emotional and physically grinding marathons. Terry faced the hardest path on any noble quest; the initial hostility from the same species he was desperately trying to help - misunderstanding the bigger picture for an inconvenient spectre of its frame. Drivers forced him off the road, towns barley acknowledged his journey -  with the odd exception, and even a succession of disagreements with partner Doug eventually left them on non-speaking terms. However - like all miracles which are sculpted by persistence, the tide was about to turn.

A third into his race - though already amassing over $200,000 dollars, the aim was frustratingly behind schedule. Entering the vast city of Montreal, it was here the inhabitants - and more importantly, the local media, finally stoop up and took notice of a young kid attempting to achieve the impossible. With each run of each day his popularity grew and grew; leaving him a hero, source of inspiration, and national celebrity. Yet for the man himself this was little more than a positive offshoot to raise more funds and awareness. Terry never once lost sight of his goal, and from day 1 till day 143, had completed 3338 miles of his 5000 total; or almost a marathon per day - just as he had set out to achieve.

On September 1st 1980 - day 144, and running through Thunder Bay, Terry began to feel sharp pains in his chest too severe to bear. Doctors revealed his initial cancer had returned and spread to his lungs; forcing him to abandon the run and return home for chemotherapy. While deeply disappointed, he had already raised $1.7 million dollars for cancer research, as well as alert an entire nation of the horrors of cancer. On June 28th, 1981 Terry was to pass away from the illness - a month shy of his 23rd birthday. However in April that year, his run - and the subsequent donations, had raised $24,2 million; a dollar for every citizen of Canada - he lived to see his goal reached - leaving the run a rousing success. From one step in the Ocean to a giant leap for mankind, Fox changed both the perceptions of what was humanly possible, as well as the way the North of North America viewed charity funding. The shortest life endured suffering most of us will never have to face, yet took every ounce of pain and turned it into something positive; cancer may have taken his life, but it was never strong enough to invade his spirit. And ultimately, this is the imprinted message Terry leaves us all - the courage to fight, no matter how high the odds are stacked against us...

The legacy of Terry Fox lives on in his native Canada. He is a national hero; where schools, roads and buildings are named after him, new statues are regularly erected, and each year since 1981 Terry Fox runs are organized the country over. For a young man who initially intended to raise $1 million, that first stepped toe has risen to a current amount of $600 million dollars raised in his name – and I expect will one day surpass $1 billion.

The story of Terry Fox is one of those rare, wonderful accounts of how a solitary human being can turn hell into heaven purely by the desire to do so. A cause devoid of ego, and born from the frustrations of seeing those less fortunate than he was – which is remarkable considering his own suffering, Fox is the barometer of how capable the human race can be, when throwing aside all the nonsense of power, control and ignorance; and simply sets out to collectively work together in fighting a common enemy. If I ever feel myself slacking in my goals, or complaining the weather is too rough or my legs too tired, I imagine Terry – running through thick snow or blazing sunshine as his leg bleeds from many miles of sheer torture on the body, and remember that if we just keep going, and never give in… you never know what we can achieve...

Terry Fox: 1958 – 1981

CLICK HERE to visit the Terry Fox Foundation Facebook Page 

CLICK HERE for the Terry Fox Foundation Website 

If you enjoyed this article, support my writing. CLICK HERE and Like my Official Fan Page. 

Noble England; a Number One Tribute to Rik Mayall.

We Brits are a curious bunch. Each summer we roll a giant cheese down a hill and allow locals to chase it in order to win said cheese; no matter how many legs are broken in the process. Every winter we burn an effigy of a man who attempted to burn the world of all those politicians, even though we openly declare our hatred for the same bastards on a daily basis. And - most bizarre of all, year after year we decide against the public execution in Trafalgar Square of Noel Edmonds. Foreign cultures may wonder what we sink into our tea to make us so strange, but to us natives these eccentric quirks are a source of pride which render us unquestionably unique; no wonder the jealous French think we are such wankers.

We also have a wonderful tradition for celebrating the passing of our own and their wonderfully ridiculous ways, in wonderfully ridiculous ways. This week, following the tragic sudden death of British comedy legend Rik Mayall - at the premature age of 56, three fans have devised the balmy notion of a viral campaign designed to give Rik a truly well-deserved send-off; with a Number One hit in the UK music charts. For those who may be surprised, Bad News never reached these dizzying heights, and Living Doll is discounted on account of the involvement of Cliff Richard - at least to me it is, anyway.

In 2010 Rik – known for his diverse talents; some even recount seeing him breath fire whilst shitting grenades, recorded a song for the 2010 World Cup. “Noble England” sees the former Young One in fine form – portraying a mixture of pub landlord and Arthurian Knight; recanting modified Shakespeare in a rousing tone distinct to Rik and only Rik, in between a catchy chorus just begging to be launched on those unstable Brazilian terraces. Like a wily determined fish, the song slipped through the cultural net four years ago. However, much like chubby checker in the 80’s and hopefully one day the Krankies, this masterpiece has been rediscovered due to Rik - on Earth as in Heaven, invading the national airwaves with sheer awe – and now the aim is to leave him as the ginormous, unquestionable number one; as well as put X-Factor as well as everything else animal, vegetable or mineral back in its rightful place, as a mere peasant in comparison to THE Rik Mayall!

The majority of World Cup songs are – if completely honest, shit. Whether Gary Barlow bellowing on about supporting a country he doesn’t pay any taxes to, or a load of fat blokes in oversized England shirts mumbling nonsensical superlatives, none possess the same verve, passion, and vigour of Rik in his finest of fine form. Don’t believe me? Visit the YouTube link at the bottom of the page and see for yourself. While you are at it, visit the link to the campaign’s Facebook Page, like it, and buy the single too - by clicking the Amazon and iTunes links, also at the bottom. 

Rik Mayall the man was said to be thoughtful, kind-hearted, and dedicated to his family; which, gathering all accounts and interviews surrounding him, seems pretty much a fact. Rik Mayall’s collection of charismatic, ego-maniacal god-complex suffering fictional characters; with delusion of grandeur and belief they single handedly shaped modern civilisation, were rotten bastards who caused mayhem anywhere and everywhere they decided to rest their weary trousers. The former would see a number one as a brilliant tribute to a fine body of work over the course of a lifetime, the latter would see it as a mandatory right for simply being alive; commanding every last person to be forced to buy fifteen copies each - on punishment of death by aubergine, or a lifetime chained to a wooden chair and forced to watch endless repeats of Deal Or No Deal. Either way, at 0.69 pence a download, there is no better reason to buy a copy – and get Rik as World Cup Number one… 

Because if you don't, you are all going to hell... you bastards!

CLICK HERE for "Noble England" Official YouTube Video
CLICK HERE for Rik Mayall "Noble England " Facebook Page 

CLICK HERE to purchase single via Amazon 

CLICK HERE to purchase single via iTunes 

If you enjoyed this article, support my writing. CLICK HERE and Like my Official Fan Page. 

Everyone Loved Rik.

"Eddie and Rik"

Growing up in the 1980's and 90's, I had six brothers. My second eldest brother Jamie collected videos of the British comedian Rik Mayall. He owned them all. Every release from his entire New Statesmen collection, Kevin Turvey stand-up specials, all the way through to ITV’s much forgotten "Rik Mayall presents” – a six-part series of separate drama pieces starring the energetic comedian and vastly underrated actor. One of these episodes - Mickey Love, is possibly his finest serious work.

Jamie and my third eldest brother, Scott, would view these videos night after night till they could quote the hell out of each episode. Their love of Rik’s work stretched so far, they even ventured across London to Hammersmith; setting of classic Television comedy “Bottom”, purely to find the bench used in the opening credits by the shows stars and writers, Rik Mayall and Adrian Edmonson – it wasn’t there. This failure was alleviated a little via the six or seven visits to see Mayall headline troubled theatre production “Cell Mates” at the Albany Theatre, London in 1995. While known for being the play Stephen Fry left due to personal issues, Rik again showed his acting chops in a role I myself as a fifteen year-old saw him command twice; not that I understood any of it - I just wanted to see Rik in person.

Scott continued his Bottom influence – with good friend Leigh Miller, by taking their own interpretation of Ade and Rik to secondary school talent show; kinda like a miniature Britain’s Got Talent – minus the talent. With Scott as Rik and Leigh as Ade, they managed to conjure a fist-fight, insult one another, and lose a pair of oversized trousers to a fully engaged wild audience, taken away from their usual two second attention spans. Their school – much like my friends at my school, their friends, all my brother’s friends, and all in-between us, grew up on a diet of The Young Ones and Bottom; and this was as close as it was ever going to come to Edgware, in North-West London. One year, the feminist Claire Rayner turned up; no one gave a shit - Rik would have caused a riot.

"Rik in 2013"

Catching the wonders of Bottom on television, my younger brother Nick purchased his own collection of Rik Mayall videos to enjoy with the younger siblings; for their own amusement. Nick's love of the duo so strong, he even wrote the name “Rik Edmunson” on a birdcage my father found during one of his night time walks; planning to name a pet which never came to reside in a cage, which ended up in Cash Converters. Alongside Nick, my two youngest brothers Adam and Stevie, grew up around Rik’s archaic and anarchic style of humour, and – just like the rest, were converts to his unique, hilarious brand of non-conformist humour. 

My girlfriend often reminds me how – when we first met four years ago, I introduced her to two elements of life she hardly knew existed, yet now have a great love for; Professional Wrestling, and the comedy of Rik Mayall. Our senses of humour often differ; she is more subversive silliness, to my subtle yet intelligent form of merriment. Yet together, we have enjoyed many hours of Bottom, The Young Ones, a host of Bottom Live shows, the Dangerous Brothers, and even the often forgotten Filthy, Rich and Catflap – which I discovered from Jamie’s video collection. The humour or Rik Mayall has transcended three decades, and only grows funnier...

I wanted to write a tribute to Rik Mayall; the British comedian who died today at the young age of 56. I wanted to explain how his work of layering intelligent social and ethical observation, under physically violent slapstick toilet humour, was the markings of a genius. I wanted to command those who have never seen his work (Rik never took off in the USA, which I always felt odd), to visit YouTube and view a random episode of Bottom. I wanted to do all these things, then I realised - the best tribute I can pay to him, is to simply explain just how much myself and the people around him loved his work, and enjoyed his performances. 

He was a maverick, an individual, impossible to replicate, and a man whose work myself, my brothers, my friends, and an entire generation will miss dearly. He was also very very funny - and is still in my view the greatest man ever to shout the word "bastard!" Goodbye Rik.I guess in our own ways, we all wanted to be just like you. But the reality is different - there will only ever be one Rik Mayall... You bastard!

RIP Rik Mayall: 1958 - 2014