Extracted from Royal Babylon: the Criminal Record of the British Monarchy. An investigative poem by Heathcote Williams.
Browsing: Heathcote Williams
Poet Maureen Duffy celebrates the incredible impact of Whale Nation, which inspired an international campaign to ban hunting these mighty sea mammals.
He stands out like a rock in a river: clear, stark and unmoving, as the waters rush around him and vanish.
Brexit is the trampoline upon which Boris Johnson thinks he can bounce his 17-stone self into Number 10 Downing Street.
“His defence of bankers’ greed is Bullingdon morality, pure and simple.”
It’s a strange and difficult process, losing a biological father who gave you half your DNA, but who you only met a handful of times.
Heathcote’s intuitions and intentions had a habit of getting into the bloodstream of our culture after he himself came up with new ones.
Over 50 million people are on the move. Instead of building walls and fences to keep them out, imagine there were no borders.
Bees are eusocial – Meaning their life is ordered for the benefit of everyone in the hive. Man’s society is largely anti-social. A kleptocracy.
In death it has become a testament to the folly of man, more deserving of derision than the Dodo.
Endearingly muddled as a companion, he can rise in his plays to heights of piercing illumination that make one think of Rimbaud.
Among the many tributes in speech and music at the funeral of Heathcote Williams on 14 July 2017 was this elegy by musician and writer Boff Whalley.
Heathcote, always ahead of his time, passing away too soon for him and us, was even early for his own funeral.
Heathcote Williams may be dead, but we’ve not heard the last from him yet, not by a long chalk.
Apply to the 120 club. As soon as you join, just say: “I’m not going to die”, adding, “So far, so good”.
Heathcote Ruthven reviews the life of his namesake Heathcote Williams, as he focused all his fury and wit in a lacerating take-down of Boris Johnson.
No sooner than you’re on someone’s wavelength, then suddenly they’re whisked away from you. Heathcote Williams on the death of David Bowie.
Poetry had to unsettle, subvert, with luck destroy, whatever stopped human beings thinking freely and acting justly.
There are few equivalents who have breadth of vision, righteous anger, wit and passion for the poor and downtrodden.
Heathcote Williams, poet, playwright, essayist, lyricist, actor, artist, magician, political activist and much else besides, died 1 July 2017.
There’s a bounty on Tony Blair’s head for anyone who attempts a citizen’s arrest for his collusion in war crimes.
Why’d ya do it, she said, they’re mine, all your jewels You just tied me to the mast of the ship of fools
Hollywood actor Al Pacino funded and starred in a film of Heathcote Williams’ play The Local Stigmatic.
I don’t like to analyze myself because I might not like what I see – Donald Trump
“I thought I’d try my hand at harpooning. Fortunately, two suitable targets surfaced.”
In today’s Islamophobic western world, the 100,000-strong ‘Islamic Peace Army’ has been written out of history.
Trump wants to banish all Arabs from his shores, while an Arab giantess in New York welcomes migrants, giving the lie to his immigration laws.
He’ll be remembered as one of our great writers of visionary dissent in the tradition of Blake and Shelley.
It is precisely Heathcote Williams’ purity of heart that causes him to investigate the corrosion in the hearts of others,
The most indiscreet man in public life is now in charge of MI6 and GCHQ intelligence services.
David Wilson reviews Brexit Boris by Heathcote Williams and is appalled by what he learns about the British foreign secretary.
Forensic and passionate, eloquent and polemical, Heathcote Williams’s meticulous prose roars with righteous anger – Jeremy Hardy
Colin Gibson reviews Brexit Boris: From Mayor to Nightmare, which lays bare the sordid story of Britain’s floppy-haired ‘national treasure’.
Heathcote Williams’ new book shows how a nation steeped in violence and greed reached its apotheosis in President Donald Trump.
For most Americans today, how can you be thankful when you are poor or sick in a society without social justice?
Heathcote Williams doesn’t join the mountain of praise heaped on Bob Dylan for winning the Nobel Prize for Literature.
It’s 1945 and Heathcote Williams is completely unaware of the war, or of thoughts of invasion.
Heathcote Williams hates Boris Johnson like everyone should, says Jeremy Hardy.
From Malcolm McLaren and the Angry Brigade to Madness and Heathcote Williams, tracing the story of Britain’s graffiti pioneers.
There may be antipathy between the candidates, but for the rest of the world this election will be no different from those before.
An investigative poem by Heathcote Williams. Narration and video by Alan Cox.
Heathcote Williams wrote this on learning that the UK government was to spend £50million commemorating the World War One centenary.
Narration and montage by Mary Wild.
Shelley is Jeremy Corbyn’s favourite poet: ‘We are many, they are few’- even those who’ve never heard of Shelley know this to be true.
When Tony Blair posed for a photo opportunity with Harry Patch, Britain’s longest surviving WW1 soldier, he got more than he bargained for.