At the height of the Raise The Colours campaign last year, Union and St. George flags were illegally put onto thousands of lampposts up and down the country, a show of ugly racial intimidation cloaked in the illusion of patriotism—a pretty typical far-right gesture with bags of history. I remember the National Front in the late seventies using exactly the same tactics.
My commute into work was not safe from this baggage. The slip road from the M4 onto junction 7 onto Bath Road was littered with flags. Clearly provocation as Bath Road leads into Slough, one of the most multi-ethnic towns in Berkshire. It saddened me, that the racists were so emboldened. It was hardly surprising, though. They were at play in a political landscape in which monsters like Trump and Farage had their grubby mitts on the narrative.
Driving onto the slip road this week, and those flags have faced the intense scrutiny of good old British weather. The cheap Chinese-produced fabric has faded and shredded, the colour gone. They are nothing now but sad rags and tatters, hanging limply.
If you didn’t know what you were looking for, you wouldn’t be able to see them at all.
Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.
Rob is reading…
Making It So. Patrick Stewart’s autobiography has sat on our TBR trolley for months, so I figured now was as good a time as any. He has led an extraordinary life, from a working-class upbringing in the West Ridings of Yorkshire, to decades as a jobbing actor before winning the role which would endear him to millions in his forties. Then in his fifties, the other role which would endear him to a whole other set of fans.
The book is entirely Patrick’s. His warm voice and humour shine through. Sure, it’s achingly luvvy throughout, but he has a sackful of great stories and boy does he know how to tell ‘em. Well worth your time.
Here’s a eulogy, delivered by the one man who truly knew him best.
Rob is watching…
The greatest feel-good show of the year—the American Mid-term election results.
Rob is listening…
To Thea Gilmore. The Oxford-based singer-songwriter has developed a fascinating project based on a simple concept. People tells her stories on voicemail. She writes songs about the ones which speak most clearly to her. Then she releases them, as a download, for a very short period of time. It’s a savvy idea—scarcity, the membership of a very exclusive club. The whole hand-crafted, people-forward anti-algo aspect of the endeavour brings me a lot of joy. Check out the link below for more info. Who knows. There might be a song there.
Rob is eating…
Muffuletas. Traditionally enjoyed on All Souls’ Day, November 1st, but delicious at any dang time of year. Wrap one up for your Bonfire Night party!
Rob’s Low-Key Obsession Of The Week…
Ten years. Ten years since this moment of foolishness first appeared on our screens. I can’t help buy chuckle every time I see it, even now.
Pronouns are important, especially in SF, where gender can be just another inconvenient detail and absolute rocket-fuel for a story.
Ceramics have always boggled my head. How mud, correctly treated, can become the most delicate of receptacles for my morning cuppa, a knife which never needs sharpening or, as in the example talked about below, a surface for cooking on. Add a ceramic pot or pan and you wondered why we ever needed steel in a kitchen at all.
I love this exploration of that moment in a book when things really get moving. I had no idea there’s an actual term from it but you know, of course there is. Writing is a skill like all others with its own tools, techniques and tricks of the trade. The Volta is just one more to have on your toolbelt.
Your weekly affirmation that AI and good writing do not mix. Michael Marshall Smith is not above playing with yer Claudes and yer GPTs so this great bit of polemic is especially persuasive.
Continuing in the same vein, Microsoft semi-accidentally says the quiet part out loud.
A tip from Pal Jillian. I wanted to support a new writer, whose work you’ll see more of in the coming months. Starting with a tiny bit of flash fiction, I suggest this person will become a name to watch.
The results are in for the Garden And Gun Good Dog Photo Competition for 2026 and well, every one is a winner in my book. If at least one of these photos doesn’t make you smile then frankly you’re dead inside.
I used to love Southampton groovers Band Of Skulls, powered along by the low-end thunder of bassist Emma Richardson. After a tour of duty with Pixies she’s moved to the art world now and coming up with some stunning canvasses. I can almost hear the colours.
Ohhh, this is a bit of a treat for you Ninth Arters. Cartoonist Michael Maslin runs Ink Spill, an archive/resource for over a hundred years of New Yorker cartoons. Very easy to get lost in here. I had a very pleasing hour-long bumble in the stacks yesterday when I really should have been doing other stuff.
I don’t mind telling you, I got chills when Eddie stepped out on stage. DAMN this is good stuff.
See you in seven, fellow travellers.
