The Church of the Wholly Undecided

Last night I saw Les Barker at Marske folk club. I've never been to see - to hear - a real-life comic poet before, but I'm glad I paid the paltry £4 to see him - what a talented guy. Highlights of the evening were (poems I can't find on t'internet): "The Inflatable Boy" (boy who attacks inflatable headmaster/school/self with inflatable pin and is told by said headmaster "you've let me down, you've let your school down but most of all, you've let yourself down..."), and the "Folk Club Disaster" (read by somebody else in the club) in which disgruntled miners - so often dying in folk songs - sing about a folk club disaster in which the "Red Lion" pub collapses into a mine....You really have to hear Les read these poems to get the whole flavour, so why not listen to his excellent diatribe against the "war" on "terror" and then imagine him reading the following poems. Here's a short funny:

DISASTER AT SEA

It was a calm, still day in Yarmouth,
The channel clear and wide,
As the last of the timber sailing ships
Sailed out on the evening tide.

They never saw that ship again;
They searched when it was light,
But that fine old timber vessel sank
That clear and peaceful night.

No one knows what happened
On that night in 1910;
But the crew and her cargo of woodpeckers
Were never seen again.

And this superb, funny yet so serious poem:

THE CHURCH OF THE WHOLLY UNDECIDED

Brothers and sisters;
I speak to you today in the Church of the wholly undecided;
I wanna hear you say "Yeah!"
I wanna hear you say "No!"

We are gathered here together,
Sister side by side with brother,
To proclaim we are Agnostic;
Don't know one way or the other.
In this, we won't be shaken,
Though hard the winds may blow;
In doubt we are united
And we cry: "We do not know!"

Brothers and sisters;
I wanna hear you say "Errrrrrrrrrrrr!"
I wanna hear you say "There are two sides to this, you know!"

We hold no fear of persecution,
It pains us not to be derided
As we stand here in the Church
Of the Wholly Undecided.
Oh my brothers and my sisters,
I know I speak for you
When I say we know for certain
That we haven't got a clue.

Brothers and sisters;
I wanna hear you say "It's beyond my comprehension!"
I wanna hear you say "I dunno."

I believe that some believe
That only their beliefs are true;
Do I believe what they believe?
I don't believe I do.
O my friends, be ye contented,
For ignorance is bliss;
We stand foursquare behind our message
And we don't know what it is.

Brothers and sisters;
I wanna hear you say "I am not a sheep!"
I wanna hear you say "I will not mindlessly do everything I am told!"

We know that we don't know,
So let our vision still be pure;
We are Agnostic Fundamentalists;
We're fundamentally unsure.
Peace, my sisters and my brothers;
The Agnostic does not smite;
We are tolerant of others;
There's a chance they may be right.

Brothers and sisters;
I wanna hear you say "Death to nobody whatsoever!"
I wanna hear you say "The infidel might have a good point, you know!"
I want you all to clap now.


Shouting back each "I wanna hear you say..." (even the baited "mindlessly" line) - we were a church of agnostics! "Death to nobody whatsoever!" rang particularly true, given the current state of affairs in the world, where people are (still!) dying and killing for religious "principles" that apparently supersede the most important religious principle of all - the sanctity of life. This book is winging its way from the Amazon for me, I hope to furnish this blog with merry quotes therefrom.

And the Folk? Pretty terrible, in the main. I remember why I stopped going to folk clubs. It's like going to a talent contest every week, but always seeing the same "talent". There are a few gems, but honestly, some of these people need taking to one side, and in the tactful way a friend would tell a friend about an unsavoury breath problem, be advised to STOP. Please. They clap because you've finished, not because of the song...

Yet I do love a lot of good folk music, and there was that to be had last night, too. Particularly a young girls fiddle playing, which was captivating. Probably had something to do with her being a young female though, a rare creature in these climes.

I'm glad I went last night for another reason: Rachel Unthank and the Winterset are playing Saltburn - that's my home town! - next Saturday, so I've got some tickets booked for that. Heard them on BBC6music, and liked them a lot. Seems she too sings about dead miners though...