Neurotic Literature

Posted on by James Lark

*clears throat, taps microphone*

Erm… hello?

I don’t know if anybody is still out there reading this blog but if you’re there… hello!

Funny to think that there was once a time when posting opinions on the internet still felt a little bit niche, a little bit special. Back in the early pioneering days of blogging, we were special. Or at least, we felt like we were (and isn’t that all that matters?). Nowadays, everyone’s at it. Let’s not forget that before Elon ruined twitter, twitter ruined everything else.

Blogging in 2023 feels almost old fashioned. Who has time to read anything lasting more than a couple of sentences, for crying out loud?! And for that matter, who has the time to write anything of length. Nobody whose opinion is worth reading, I’ll warrant.

This blog had its roots in writing about our creative endeavours, about Doctor Who, and about politics. Well, to tackle those things in reverse: back in the day, when politics was still an enjoyable enough topic to make for a decent musical theatre spectacle, I used to get quite a kick out of immersing myself in whatever was being discussed on The Today Programme. But these days, for reasons I needn’t spell out, immersing myself in anything political for any length of time makes me feel like I need an instant shower. Besides which, it’s hard to see the value of adding my voice to the millions shouting into the void (even though, make no mistake, I still have some strong opinions).

I also have some strong opinions about Doctor Who, though increasingly these are either restricted to the classic Doctor Who of my childhood or voiced only in pubs to people I know. Again, commentary on ‘NuWho’ feels like a mostly shouty void, and I’ve no desire either to add banal positivity or unnecessary negativity to a market that is pretty crowded on both fronts (surprise: there are things about Doctor Who over the last ten years that I have loved and things that I have hated, and a lot in between!). C’mon everyone – it’s basically meant to be there for fun, isn’t it?

That said… I do have some things to say about Doctor Who that might, possibly, be of value. Having been writing the odd perspective on Doctor Who fiction, or occasionally engaging with Toby Hadoke’s brilliant (and positively inclined) podcasts, I find that it is a programme with a whole real-world universe to explore, a huge part of which is the way in which people engage with it personally. Perhaps that sounds wanky, but all it really means is that I have stories to tell about Doctor Who which are really stories about me, and ultimately that seems a much more interesting thing to write about that whether I think the Timeless Child is better than the Cartmel Masterplan or why I don’t think the Master dancing to pop music is going to age particularly well. And what better year to delve into my relationship with Doctor Who than the 60th anniversary?

Assuming I find the time.

But… y’know… if you’re still watching this space, do continue to watch it.

In the meantime, why don’t I take this opportunity to write about my creative endeavours? That, I can do, and I can do it right away.

Having dabbled with some improvised storytelling over lockdown, I also found myself dabbling quite excessively with more prosaic short-form storytelling, the fruits of which can now be enjoyed on a brand new podcast: NEUROTIC LITERATURE. Because if blogging is old hat, then what could be more bang up to date than podcasting? Haha, yes, totally ahead of the curve, me – I thought I’d get in there before everyone has a podcast.

So here it is: a series of short yarns, often quirky slash funny, sometimes dark, occasionally downright disturbing – just the thing for your jogging/gardening/cooking/bath time, if not always the thing when there are children in the room. Please have a listen, subscribe, rate, review…

…and maybe see you back here soon.

When you choose your enemies, you should expect to be treated like one

Posted on by James Lark

Yesterday’s twitterstorm in a twittercup was the news that the EDL’s Tommy Robinson kicked up a fuss in Selfridges because a man he assumed was a Muslim refused to serve his friend. The shop assistant in question has been suspended and there was plenty of righteous anger flying about, partly because righteous anger is generally what Tommy Robinson provokes, but this time it was also aimed at the rather heavy handed response of Selfridges.

However, as Mic Wright has blogged, even the leader of the English Defence League ought to expect decent service in a shop that prides itself on making everyone welcome. I had no patience for the B&B owners who, on the grounds of faith, refused to give a double room to a gay couple. They offer a service, they should jolly well give it to everyone, whatever their personal feelings. And we can’t have one rule for homosexuals and a different one for the EDL (even though, ironically, both homosexuals and the EDL would probably like that). No question, the shop assistant in Selfridges should have just got on and done his job.

But it’s easy for me to write that. Given quite how revolting the EDL and Robinson himself are I don’t know how well I’d cope with them in the flesh, and I’m a middle class white male; how I’d react if I actually felt targeted by them is impossible for me to imagine. Yes, the staff member in this case acted unprofessionally – but his response was an understandable and human one. Give him a ticking off, sure. Send him for training on customer care in the face of racists, absolutely. But a compassionate employer needs to recognise that workers are not machines, they are subject to human emotions and impulses, which in this case could hardly be called irrational. Suspension, investigation and even talk of what the Daily Mirror subtly headlines the SACK are unnecessarily victimising a man who clearly already feels victimised.

Nor should Selfridges have so wholeheartedly taken the side of a customer being trying to intimidate said staff member by waving a phone in his face (clearly with every intention of getting the video on the internet at the earliest possible opportunity). An apology would have sufficed, but instead Robinson and his chum were rewarded with two £25 steaks and VIP treatment. If only from a selfish PR point of view, Selfridges might have shown a bit more restraint. Robinson would have had less opportunity to crow over that ‘Muslim’ he was served by and I don’t think Selfridges need have worried too much about pissing off the EDL demographic. (I witnessed their recent march across Tower Bridge: they are pitifully tiny group and their general demeanour didn’t suggest that many of them shop at Selfridges.)

I suppose what I’m saying is that, unlike a gay couple wanting to stay in a B&B for a weekend, Robinson has made a choice to stand as a public figurehead for outspoken and often violent Islamophobia. He has, in so many words, branded certain racial groups as an enemy: when you choose your enemies, you should expect to be treated like one (as should those who hang out with you). We are talking about a man whose family is under 24-hour police protection, after all.

In spite of all of which, he absolutely ought to be given fair and equal treatment whether in court or in Selfridges. But which of us could possibly blame a shop assistant for falling short of that ideal?