Saturday, 26 November 2011

Facing Facebook

Facing Facebook © 
By 
Michael Casey

I wrote Internet Story a while back, years ago in fact, it tells the tale of a writer trying to get noticed, to get published. Now years later, the winds of Time have moved on, we are all older and fatter, well I am anyway. Technology has moved on too, Facebook has arrived on the scene, I didn’t think much of it, then I thought sideways, I could use it to connect with writers and publishers. So that’s what I’ve been doing.

You have to be careful with Facebook though, the weird and wonderful people of the world are out there ready to contradict and spit at you, the electronic version of spitting that is. People who only have one interest and will be very very very angry if you don’t agree with them; its like having the Mafia and the Clu Clux Clan on tap, ready to bump you off. So check somebody’s profile before you talk with them, people in America seem to be much more angry compared to folks over here in England, thank God for the Atlantic I say. Having said that you can connect with a multitude of people, women’s writers are a big big thing in America, they are nice ladies, sadly I cannot write in that style otherwise I would and perhaps have my writing breakthrough. I can only write in my modern post Ealing Comedy style. You’ll all need to go to www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com to see and judge my stuff, and as I said previous in Internet Story it’ll cut your heart out when folks are so negative, and in some cases it is out of sheer spite, I believe in saying “good luck and God bless” to people but sadly that sentiment is dying out over here and in the USA.

Erotic fiction is big too, but I always see the funny side, if you read  my comic novel 
The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker, you’ll see that beds break and I use Metaphors because its funnier, I’m not writing the Karma Sutra after all. I would have failed the practical exam anyway. So if you want laugher with your sex then read The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker, 1% comedy sex, 99% straight comedy at 500 pages and only 3quid on Amazon Kindle a bargain.  The hero finally gets his girl, the girl from the dog pound, only he stinks like a tart and she thinks he’s gay, but they do break a bed afterwards and have to glue it back together with superglue. 

So  I’ll post this new piece on Facebook and see it encourages people to buy my book, I need to explain to the American readers that comic means comic not comic. Or in plainer English, comic means funny, its not a comic like Superman, it’s a comic book  ie. Comedy book. So I’ll post  this and see If my sales on Amazon Kindle go through the roof, I have of course broke a few beds myself, but that’s because  I weigh 112kilos , 17.5 stones or in American parlance 245 pounds. I have also been inside 242 bedrooms, and that’s only because I used to work in a hotel, CPNEC, you’re minds are so dirty! Enjoy my books.

Tuesday, 22 November 2011

Disguises

Disguises, we all hide this and hide that from each other and from ourselves. We smile when we really want to say, oh no its that boring so in so. We go around to nans when really we wish she was dead and we wouldn't have to waste our time with all this visiting. If we knew she was rich and was planning to leave it all to use we wouldn't complain so much. If nan heard our bitching she'd leave all her shares and equities to the local cats home. We lie to people to save face, we put a 10 year old photo of ourselves on Facebook. Before we were fat, before we needed a face lift. We are just so vain, vain enough to enter Politics, but which side would we be on, does it matter? When we go to bed are we still acting? Or are all barriers down? Are we sleeping with the enemy? Or is it love? With love there should be no barriers, no marrying for love or for status. For Richer For Poorer, and no disguises included 


p.s. photo is me and the wife when we first met, I sent her back to Shanghai to tell her parents all my bad points, no lies allowed

Saturday, 19 November 2011

WHY ARE WRITERS SO PRECIOUS?

Why are writers and poets so precious?(c) By Michael Casey

Why are writers and poets so precious?
Are words more important than people.
Do we love our words more than our selves
Our words are our children
But we hate children 
We hate people 
We just love words
Words are our mistress
Words are our lovers
Words are our whores
We prefer the page
We prefer the pen in our hand
We prefer the soft touch of the keyboard
A woman in our bed is not good enough
A man in our arms does not satisfy us.
No we want words
We want to make love to a dictionary


p.s. I've just burnt my dictionary I'm going to bed with a woman!

Wednesday, 16 November 2011

DT had a piece about Padre Pio , here's my own experience

Web site www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com 



                  Padre Pio and Me ©

                        By


                   Michael Casey



    It’s a contradiction in terms immediately , how can I copyright  a Saint . A brand new saint at that . I first heard of him through some Religious reading I did . I feel embarrassed to admit it , but I am a practising Catholic , its not fashionable to have any Faith but its mine so I admit it . Immediately the prejudice begins , but if I WERE A Jew or a Muslim , it would be the same . I do feel that my catholic tastes have given me a broader outlook on life , as has my  eclectic tastes and rubbing shoulders with a wide variety of people . 

But I want to talk about Padre Pio . I had a crisis and was reading about him at the time , so I said my prayers to him and the way forward was revealed . Though Padre Pio always says go Higher , he is just a stepping stone on the way to a better place . What is so hard to understand about Padre Pio  is how he suffered . He had the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune . Condemned by his own superiors , made to be quiet for a decade and so forth . Science Fiction teaches or rather amuses us about Time Travel , but with Padre Pio it really happened , he wanted to share in Christ’s agony so he thought , what if he too could have and suffer the wounds on that day of Crucifiction . So it came to pass that he suffered for 50years . He had the indignity of medical examinations and of being thought just to be a mental patient , but his work and life proved his holiness .

So it’s nearly 1990 and I hear about him and read a few books , its hard to understand the value of suffering in this age of quick fix pain killers and the lets have a fix , whatever the fix might be , sex, drugs and rock and roll or whatever . Its like suddenly studying again after years of lying fallow , the learning curve is enormous . So too is it with Padre Pio , the idea behind his life is enormous , but so too is the capacity for love and help . 
My favourite story is how Padre Pio explains that The Wedding Feast at Cena happened because Jesus could not refuse his mother . Very Italian , or Irish or Spanish and so on , but could any of us refuse our mothers? 

So I thought more about what Padre Pio said , and his motto of Pray Hope Don’t Worry became my own . Carpe Diem is another good motto but perhaps this can be used by any Hedonist , or other kind of selfish person .Padre Pio reminds us to pray and that pray is not wasted , its perfume that is never wasted is a phrase I like . My mother always used to say that if you couldn’t sleep you should say the Rosary , and she was right . Though in todays world an hour on the Internet or with MTV might do the trick . 

So why the devotion to Padre Pio , I’ll cut to the chase.
My mother died suddenly but peacefully in her sleep , my brother tried CPR , but she was gone . Imagine the anguish amongst her 6 children and her husband of nearly 50 years . All except me , my mother had said no tears when she go ,so I never cried , I was the odd one out .I know how prayerful she was , so I had no need of tears .
Eight bare weeks later my brother , the same brother heard our dad fall out of bed , so he ran to his bedroom . My brother was facing the exact same situation , he tried CPR , the ambulance was called , an injection was given straight to the heart . On weekends there is a doctor in the ambulance , so Luck , if that’s the word was with us . The next day 4 of my brothers and sisters came around to tell me the news . When my sister had come around 8 weeks previously I knew somebody was dead but I assumed it was my dad , he’s die first we all thought . So now 8 weeks later it was his turn to die .

At the hospital dad was given 1 week to live , I cried like a baby , worse than a baby , but I loved him , so I told he he should go to our mother and not hang on if he didn’t want to . The next day I was in my sister’s house crying , we picked hymns for his funeral .Yet my father survived , 19 patients on a heart ward , 18 died my dad survived . Padre Pio was beseiged by my prayers , I put Padre Pio’s photo under his pillow . Dad lost his mind , he was in Dudley Rd for 3months , 12 weeks , more than half of them all tubed up . His life hanging in the balance . At the same time somewhere in Florida another man was at deaths door , he was a totally stranger to me , I didn’t even know his name , I’d never met him , he was give 24hours to live , a Chinese man from Shanghai  was at deaths door . The Chinaman survived .My dad’s memory was totally wiped , he did not know who I was, I’m your son was greeted with , am I married . I was the favourite son , he did not even know me . But still we prayed , it’s a feeling in your guts , just like when you are nearly killed as you cross the road , its in your guts and in your heart , Jesus save my dad , Jesus save my dad , Padre Pio help !!! This goes around your head like a merry go around or a kaleidascope . Finally dad awoke . He said that he can remember hearing the doctor say to wheel him down to the end of the ward , because he’d be dead soon . At that moment my dad awoke, and the doctor dropped  his cup of tea in shock . No not an instanteous miracle , but as Dr Singh had said if he were 30years younger he’d have a heart transplant because dad’s heart was rubbish .

Now , when I told my brother that dad was reading a newspaper he was shocked . His memory had come back . He knew who we all were .Every day for three months I walked the corridor at Dudley Rd , the longest hospital corridor in Europe , 1 kilometre long . Finally he left the hospital , my sister had found a good home for him to live in , he was far too weak to live in the family house .

For 3 years dad survived , like a Godfather with all his children making constant visits . Finally I met my future wife . It was her uncle who had miraclously survived at the same time as my father . It was her uncle who encouraged us in our love . From Shanghai to Birmingham .These great men , her uncle and my father never met , but I know Padre Pio must have  helped both of them . Further prayer was needed to bring me and my wife permanenetly together . A Chinese miracle happened . Now we are wed , we have a 2year old and please God a healthy second baby in the Autumn . The improbability of our meeting , plus the fact that both men HAD to live for us to be married and have a family , this may be a coincidence to some but I know a miracle when I see one. A miracle is something that makes you feel humble , it makes you know that God has whispered your name . When I look at my wife , I feel humble . Seeing our daughter laugh and play also makes me humble as will our new baby.
Then you can look back and know that prayer is like perfume that can never be wasted  , your life has led you to where you are now , yes at times sad and terrible , but be humble in the sight of God means something , not just for me , but for all Believers .

I once stood by the fridge and said to Padre Pio , I give up , you take over , all I want is to be married , and perhaps have a family , and do something useful with my life . That was just before my eyes were opened to my wife . I used to say that I got 2 out of my 3 wishes . Perhaps my current occupation is my 3rd wish , or a more outstanding miracle is waiting in the wings , but as Padre Pio  said ,always ask for the big Grace .Perhaps
 we have to be humble enough to deserve it , because I believe it to be a fact that , truly great people are humble because they know just how little they really know.

Tuesday, 15 November 2011

Degree Madness

Degree madness

By michaelgcasey
There was a nice piece in today’s DT about degrees and their value or lack of.  £27,000 for a degree is madness, and the piece did speak of “rubbish” degrees, I was told by a friend that 40% was the pass grade for an engineering degree here in Birmingham. This is madness pure and simple, I’m sure any real employer would roll their  eyes and reach for the coffee. I have also met young people with a piece of paper and no common sense. As for everybody demonstrating because it was their right to have a degree, I’d say having a red jumper is more useful that some degrees, save £27,000 and open a business instead.
My daughter took her 11plus 2 days ago, that I hope will help her, but even if she were to fail, we still have 2 ex-grammar schools where she could go. As for University, I am already telling her just to enjoy her life and get 3 years hands on experience, or 4 years if you include the gap year either before or after Uni. She can do what she likes, but always do her best, just as my dad instructed us. Then she has something to offer an employer, I’ve had a varied employment life these past 12years, but it has taught me that being useful and flexible is better than a Micky Mouse degree she might apply for. I tell her Paul McCartney’s daughter went to a comp but look at Stella now. It’s the Person not the Paper that matters

Saturday, 12 November 2011

Return of the Blog

Return of the Blog ©

By

Michael Casey

I’ve been away from my blog for a couple of weeks, I’ve been trying to get folks to go to www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com and sample my wares, I’ve been using Facebook and Linkedin to try and whip up interest in my work. Amazon Kindle now has 4 books of mine waiting to be discovered. I’m Michael Casey, not the Michael Casey the monk who writes religious books, nor Michael Casey the DIY expert, just look for my fat face on the covers then it’s the right Michael Casey.

Poetry is a big big thing, Facebook poetry section has almost 22,000 members, I have written 2 great poems in 20 years, other than that the standard on Facebook Poetry is very  very high, better than my other attempts at poetry. However as somebody once said my general writing was in itself poetic, so I’m trying to impress the Poetry People with my other stuff.

Today is End Of The 11+ plus day in our house, my 10year old daughter did this exam this morning, if she passes she’ll go to King Edwards Grammar School. I can remember my own 11+ and the deputy head teacher whispering to me, “if you’re stuck go on, don’t waste time.” So did I cheat? I did pass and I did go to one of the best grammar schools at the time, 1970s and all that. Nowadays there are fewer and fewer grammar schools, if my daughter fails there are still two good              ex-grammar schools just up the road from where we live. I suppose its discipline that matters the most, if you are in a school where the other pupils are badly behaved then you and the rest of the class suffer. So really I don’t care where my daughter goes, and pass and fail does not matter, so long as she is happy. 

We are celebrating tonight with duck and pancakes, my Shanghai wife is a good cook, she just had to “steal” some leeks from our local take-away friends so that we could celebrate. End of the 11+ study regime, 2 or 3 hours of extra study every night for months, folders from a Chinese friend at Birmingham University. The folders are now in the boot of our car and will be returned, however in 3 years time they will no doubt return for my younger daughter. In Glee the other week the Chinese character got an A- , which was a F as far as his family was concerned.
That line made me laugh out loud, but if you have Chinese family or friends it is so so true, there must be 20 PhDs at least who attend the Birmingham Chinese Church, so their kids are all off the scale as far as studying goes. I used to think look at all those PhDs, then there was one emptying the dustbins, he wasn’t a PhD, no he was a Professor. I must also add they are amongst the kindest people I have ever met in my life.
So I’ll finish by saying my half Chinese daughters, are A++++++++++ in my heart.

Phoney War

Humour Writing by the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham England read in 167 countries so far https://www.amazon.co.uk/Micha...