Author: Ian Harris

Operating from Stratford upon Avon, the Stratfordian/Ian Frederick Harris paints from his studio (shed) at the bottom of the garden where the rest of the gnomes, elves and fairy's dwell in an effort to escape the world's Orcs. On This website you will find his artwork, his short stories and everything else he uses to prove he exists. Oh yes...of course...I'd almost forgotten...then there's his opinions...

I call them Orcs.

    I call them orcs because there is no other designation I can think of that adequately describes such a disgusting mass of bodies from the Darkside.

The Darkside.

Where the ignorant dwell and the irrational breed. A place where those without humour and foresight live (and fly flags).

The Orc cares for no-one and saves its bile for those that are different.

If Orcs come across anyone that looks, speaks or behaves differently than the Orc does, it has one response. HATRED. Actually two. ANGER.

HATRED & ANGER loom large in an Orc’s life.

Unfortunately, the Orcs have crossed over. They have left the Darkside and now make their homes amongst us. Orcs live close by. They live next door and work at our sides. Orcs have so perfected the art of disguise* that they can even present as our friends.

The Orc’s one desire is to promote the hatred that burns inside him/her. Now, with stones overturned and into the light, the Orc has found a freedom (which it wishes to deny to everyone else), to spread its bile. 

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Unfortunately, we must accept at least some of the blame for the rise of the Orcs.

Not only have we supplied the perfect vehicle that enables the Orc brother/sisterhood to spread its disease, but we have also continued to feed said vehicle. We have allowed Social Media to carry the highly infectious germs of Orc-ism. We can no longer deny the fact that the likes of Facebook (et al), infect and convert others to Orc-ism, on a daily basis.

Social Media, once a blessing, is now a curse. 

Social media a place where evil finds a voice. A place where TRUTH & FACTS are muffled. A place where Orcs find for the first time in their disgusting live, a place to broadcast without hindrance, its vilest lies.

We are at war.

And as in any war, the enemy have their spies and infiltrators. There are amongst us (those that are not Orcs), traitors and the like who would promote the Orcs and their poison for reasons they would best like to keep to themselves. However, it has become increasingly obvious that power is the key.

The Orcs by their very nature are easily led. They have no morals, no basic education and are totally ignorant. They operate purely on gut feeling. In the dark world of the Orc there is no need for evidence or facts. If something is different or requires brainpower or an effort to understand, that is a good enough reason to revert to what the Orc does best, HATE.

The spies and the infiltrators amongst us have a need (for want of a better word), soldiers. Followers who will hang on to their every word. So, promotion of a particular kind e.g. Racism. Homophobia etc, will attract an Orc to your side instantly. Should you need unthinking followers to bend the knee and hang on to your every hatred, call for an Orc.

Indeed, no better example of trumpet blowing for the recruitment of Orcs, is to be found in the once ‘Land of the Free’, America.

A land where Orc-ism is in full flow, slowly eating away at the basics of Common Sense and perhaps more worryingly, JUSTICE.

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But there is hope.

Orcs are ill disciplined. They cannot, will not, hold the line. They are cowards. And crucially, they have no argument once the consequence of their actions starts to reveal themselves. They will always retreat.

History, (of which they have no idea) tells us so.

The past has seen the Orcs rise and then, just as rapidly, fall. Their path only ever leads to disaster. Their bricks and mortar are rarely properly made. What they hurriedly build soon crumbles.

We know that Justice always prevails but unfortunately, there are casualties along the way.

Which is why, in an effort to reduce the damage already done we must act fast.

The removal of the Orcs and the traitors that lead them is of the utmost importance and it must happen NOW.

No delay. NOW.

 

* Beware, some Orcs are now beginning to parade openly and think nothing of raising flags to announce their presence.

Written in haste. Removed in anger.

This was meant to be a piece comparing America’s ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) with the Gestapo. It was an article that would have expressed surprise that in a country awash with the guns, the reaction, the push-back to such a violent body has not been more, violent. It was not meant to advocate violence but more an expression of amazement that the reaction to fight Fire with Fire has not been prominent.

‘Even when only one side is firing it can still be a civil war’. (Ian Frederick Harris).

The question was, where are the American people?

Anyway, I thought Shakespeare might help.

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Trump…

‘Your breath first kindled the dead coal of wars
And brought in matter that should feed this fire;
And now ’tis far too huge to be blown out
With that same weak wind which enkindled it.’

King John

 ‘The bay-trees in our country all are wither’d
And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven;
The pale-fac’d moon looks bloody on the earth
And lean-look’d prophets whisper fearful change;
Rich men look sad and ruffians dance and leap,
The one in fear to lose what they enjoy,
The other to enjoy by rage and war.’

Richard III

‘War gives the right to the conquerors to impose any condition they please upon the vanquished.’

Julius Caesar

‘Sound trumpets! let our bloody colours wave!
And either victory, or else a grave.’

Henry VI Part 3

The arms are fair,
When the intent of bearing them is just.’

Henry IV Part 1

‘And when the drums of war have reached a fever pitch and the blood boils with hate and the mind is closed, the leader will have no need in seizing the rights of the citizenry. Rather, the citizenry infused with fear and blinded by patriotism, will offer up all of their rights unto the leader and do it gladly so.’

Julius Caesar 

Something in the air

the outsider art of Ian Frederick Harris
‘Relaxing in the Garden of Tranquillity’. Acrylic on 12″ x 16″ canvas. £60

I don’t know about you but there’s something in the air. I know not what, but it feels like something BIG is about to happen.

Thinking about it carefully and taking into consideration the way the hairs are raised on the back of my neck, this feeling must be based on something on the scale of…

1: Instant annihilation.

2: The return of the Messiah formerly known as Jesus.

The truth is, either way, I must admit I am not looking forward to any of these things, for these reasons.

ONE: No-one wants instant annihilation. We all like a surprise now-and-again but instant annihilation is a step too far.

(Admittedly, and on the hard to find plus side, a theory of such a sudden death that exists in the mind of people who study such things says, We/I/You won’t know much about it as it will all be over in a literal flash).

& TWO: I do not want to be around when Jesus cottons on to what we have done to His and His Father’s planet. Boy, is he going to be pissed off. We all know what He is capable of on those rare occasions when He loses His cool.

(This time I believe it will be a little more than the turning over of a few tables).

One can only hope that that these feelings of dread will pass and the hairs on the back of my neck will settle down. That these dread-filled thoughts are merely a symptom, a consequence of sharing the same space in time as the present lunatics who think they run the Earth.

One can only wish that my feelings of close and present danger, are merely hopeful misinterpretations of what is going to happen to the present slew of despots and dictators.  Monsters, who are making life particularly unpleasant for the innocents attempting to live a ‘normal’ life everywhere. One can only hope that what I am ‘picking up’ are the sictator’s (see what I did there), death throes.

Perhaps I am having a premonition of what is about to happen to them. Maybe, hopefully, they are about to get what history shows us, they always get.

What they deserve.

America eats itself.

I should be in my shed, painting. Instead, I am watching a horrendous spectacle. I’m watching as…

America eats itself.

The unfortunate truth as far as I am concerned, is that Donald J Trump has taken up residency in my head, rent free. The unfathomable plight of the American people and why they have allowed HIM to happen consumes me…anyway…this…

It’s obvious that I am not the only one in these here parts to be watching in astonishment as America eats itself. Things have got so bad that the jokes about ‘the orange one’ etc are no longer funny.

So much so, that the TV shows that are brave enough to criticise the President by showing never ending clips of his ridiculous statements or behaviour, are in my opinion becoming tired and ineffective. Once upon a time, humour was a powerful weapon that could be relied upon to slow down the progress of the most powerful wannabe dictator. Not anymore. They have cracked all the jokes, shown all the videos and the Fool is still there.

Trump is as he is portrayed. Stupid and dangerous. The radio and TV stations of sensible America are merely telling the truth as it is and thereby have lost any barbs that they might have had. It can tell its audience nothing new about its corrupt President.

The time has come to stop laughing.

The ‘joke’ is over. Time to get serious America. Time to get serious or die.

Trump is as mad as a box of frogs. He is a conman, a narcissist. He is greedy and a grifter.

America, Trump will destroy you.

It’s all been said and it’s all true. It therefore follows that the truth because of its constant repetition holds no longer holds shock value. The surprise, the step back in ‘shock/horror’ effect has dissipated.  The TV stations are merely telling their audience what they already know.

In short, main street media has lost its edge. And is now merely feeding the masses who hate Trump with what they want and expect to hear. And it is these feelings of audience self-righteousness and the ‘told you so’ effect, that is keeping them from rising in anger from their over-stuffed sofas. They are too ‘comfortable’.  And under the mistaken allusion that the TV companies/personalities will fight the battle for them. They need to wake up and organise before it is too late. Which it might be already.

What also amazes me is the sycophantic Republican party. Their complete lack of realisation that they cannot go on like this is embarrassing. Their day, (sooner rather than later one hopes), will most definitely come and no amount of money and guns will save them from the fury of the crowd. Or should I say, mob.

History has shown us many, many times that empires will fall, some quicker than others. And the way America is isolating itself from its one-time friends and allies, this could be one of the quickest falls from grace ever.

It doesn’t take a great brain to realise that when the fall comes revenge will be taken, and heads will roll. If I was a present-day Republican decision maker, I would already be feeling rather uneasy and wondering about the future for me and my family.

Meanwhile the orange slob sits in the White House appointing idiots to the most powerful jobs in the administration, and for a purpose.

It means that when the consequences of their crazy decisions become too much for Trump to bare. He will deny all knowledge of the decisions made and blame the idiots he himself appointed.

Easy come – easy go.

A man walks into an art gallery…

A couple of weeks ago I put my horrendous self-doubt and disbelief behind me, became very brave and entered the doorway of an art gallery/shop I’ve always admired with a view to asking the shop-owner if he would be interested in displaying my art.

Needless to say, I felt a complete imposter and fraud, noting that my art, compared to the art displayed, was extremely messy (in a childish sort of way), unframed and absolutely, compared to what was on show, underpriced. The voice in my head was loud and insistent…’who the fuck do you think you are’?

Anyway, the owner couldn’t have been nicer. He put me at my ease, we exchanged cards and he said he would check out my website. I kissed his feet (not true) and left feeling pleased with myself.

I haven’t heard a thing since.

Hope and Beauty

12:38:47

So here we are in the first month of the year and here I am, depressed. Empty. Devoid of any sign of Hope and Beauty. Either would do but…

One: I find myself ‘blocked’ and stumped on what I need to paint (and boy do I need to paint). Nothing has popped into my head which is how it usually works. ‘Not popping’ is not only unusual but is, worrying. But then again, other things occupy my solitary brain cell.

The point being. Two: How can I justify time and space on such a frivolous pastime and ‘useless occupation’, when evil bastards/monsters like Trump are killing innocent people the world over?

I know, I know, ART out-trumps Trump (see what I did there) every time. Art doesn’t kill, it informs, it offers hope and promotes beauty. It keeps people like me, sane (ish). At least that’s what I try to believe.

Unfortunately, ART (I think) doesn’t flourish in the dark or when evil is afoot because ART needs to be seen to be believed, and human waste like the aforementioned have a way of keeping hope, and beauty out of sight of the masses whose main concern, is at the moment, to survive.

The demise of the Royal Shakespeare Theatre/Company

‘Royal Shakespeare Theatre presents – Scene 1. Destruction.’ Oil on 12″ x 12″ canvas board. £50.
The demise of the Royal Shakespeare Theatre/Company in Stratford upon Avon has been predicted for a number of years now, yet somehow this once great theatre company continues to exist. Gutted and a mere shadow of its former self, it clings to the idea that 37 (?) plays will sustain it to the end. It swallows up a grant that a quite number of smaller theatre companies would survive on and pushes a system of weird ‘repertory’ (my opinion), that is slowly killing it. The Royal Shakespeare Theatre must adapt to thrive in today’s theatrical landscape.
The time has obviously come for someone to be brave (and take a drop in salary) and make the decision that would have its vast resources (buildings/theatres/rooms etc) dedicated to all theatre, and not to one (great as he may be) playwright.
Moreover, the Royal Shakespeare Theatre should explore innovative programmes that attract diverse audiences.
In other words, all Theatre celebrated (and dedicated in Shakespeare’s name if need be).
And to (re) start the process I would advocate a return to the repertory system. A system that would help in its own way to reduce the never-ending conveyor belt of unemployed actors by offering them a year/2-year contract where they could perform Shakespeare (if need be) and more modern plays (lots of them), ongoing, all year round.
In doing so, the Royal Shakespeare Theatre can build a bridge between classical and contemporary works.
Detractors of this system and their usual cries of ‘The RSC couldn’t hope to offer actors wages that compete with TV and films’ have perhaps not noticed that film and TV are experiencing their own problems and as a result are making massive cuts.
A return to repertory, a return to variation and a celebration of all theatre would (in my opinion) attract the new audiences that theatre and especially the RSC is crying out for.
It is essential that the Royal Shakespeare Theatre honours its roots while embracing new artistic expressions.
I should make it clear that I am not advocating a return to a golden age that more than likely did not exist. In my experience and my time at the Jam Factory, there were departments within, that all played their part in its slow death.
Be it greed, self-importance, bullying, hierarchy and a tendency to invent mysterious, self-imposed cultures and ‘rules’, they all played their part in jumping on the gravy train. Thankfully, some of those departments no longer exist.
Sadly however, chances were missed during one of the many ‘clear-outs’ and there was no-one with vision (courage?) enough to build on the free spaces that were left behind, so even today we still find existing and new (ish) departments who have become more important than the basic purpose of the RSC itself…i.e. Producing Theatre.
Soon, someone will write a book about the death of Shakespeare’s theatre which in turn will become a screenplay, unfortunately too late to become a stage play as the Royal Shakespeare will be, like its master’s grave, dust.
Failing to evolve could mean the Royal Shakespeare Theatre becomes a relic of the past.

Artists remember…

ARTISTS…

There is no telling or predicting people’s taste.

You cannot dictate how a viewer of your art is going to react.

If you paint only to sell, then you are fighting a losing battle.

You must learn to paint for yourself because the ‘market’ is unpredictable and unknown.

What feeds collectors today, can be forgotten and worthless tomorrow.

What you are looking for is reaction & connection.

SO…

 paint for yourself with all your heart and all your mind.

DO NOT LOSE HOPE.

The connection with a stranger will come

Patience is the key.

Advice for the Royal Shakespeare Theatre I.

A great revelation has come to me overnight that would enable the Royal Shakespeare theatre to immediately cease their most recent round of choice and disappointing redundancies.
The plot would involve supplying targeted education establishments (schools), with series 1 & 2 of the BBC’s ‘Upstart Crow’.
Written by Ben Elton, these series would provide everything the pupils of these chosen educational establishments (schools), need to know concerning Shakespeare and his works (borrowed/fabricated or otherwise), thus relieving the RSC’s need for a so-called education department that we all know is actually a ploy to fill their coffers with Grant Monies.
Once the ‘Upstart Crow’ episodes are established, the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, could then cease the afore mentioned and unfortunate redundancies of under-workers, and save money instead, by relieving themselves immediately of their well-heeled and obviously unnecessary Education Department.
You may thank me later.

A Health Update

The silence in our house that (I described in my last post-One car family) is slowly breaking down and is now punctuated by the odd ‘good morning’ or stuff that doesn’t crack the ice too much.

All this accompanied by a scowl or a frown either from me (I confess), or her. In all our years of marriage (54 years – Holy mackerel) this present outbreak must rank in the top ten. The hate, the anger is palpable. Thank God we live in a country where weaponry is hard to come by (actually there is always the kitchen).

Anyway…did I mention I am on a diet? I didn’t? In that case, let me give you a health update (bear with me).

The diabetes (type 2) is insidious. It’s a nasty bastard that eats you up from the inside out and it looks like it’s having a good go at me now. Reports from the front are telling me that my kidneys are ‘leaking’ i.e. not doing what they should be doing with proteins.

All this was discovered because I noticed that there hadn’t been any reference from those in the know of late to those naughty (failing?) kidneys. There had been previous reports of dodgy behaviour on the part of these necessary organs some years ago but I, and others had not followed through.  I should say that I accept some responsibility because I haven’t turned up to my yearly diabetes check up with a bottle of pee to be looked at for some time.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, I did this time and mentioned to my lovely doctor that it was some time since I had an actual report on the state of the kidneys. She leapt into doctorly action, and the pee was sent off to Pee Central. We waited.

When the report came back it was, on the dark side. It was not good, and (if I survive) it looks like I will be going onto a new drug in the very near future…. oh yes, the diet.

I had read somewhere that type two diabetes can be reversed with diet, so determined to beat this nasty fucker that is what I chose to do.

Diet, diet, diet.

Amazingly I lost 5lbs in just as many days… and then disappointedly it stopped. I was left very slightly thinner with a bunged-up feeling I put down to, too much Slim-Fast.

Fast-forward, I’ve dropped the Slim-Fast but am still dieting and regulating what I eat with sheer willpower.

Unfortunately, I haven’t had the courage to get back on the weighing machine.  I feel depressed enough already what with Gaza, the idiot trump and the UK knuckle-draggers who come out from under their stones every (hot) summer to complain. They come to threaten and scare anyone who is different than them, i.e. not fat, not bald and has a vocab of more than 10 words oh yes. Oh yes, not forgetting the dress sense.

I shall keep you informed.

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