For those of you who haven’t heard about it, my old client and friend Yakov Merkin has been very busy over the past couple of years, and is running a successful fundraiser for the continuation of his Light Unto Another World series, whose promotional video includes some high-quality animation. I haven’t been involved at all in this work of his, but knowing him it’s a good bet to be entertaining. Click on the image below to take a look and see whether this is something you’d be interested in backing
A bitter, last goodbye became the dawn of a new age When the Lord of Life burst out of death’s unyielding cage, Flung the gates of hell so wide they let in heaven’s light, Allowing all the souls trapped there to witness his true might,
Bend the knee and join him in His wondrous kingdom come, Transform into the holy throng they were made to become, Inviting all of us on Earth to live a whole new life Where hope is unavoidable and miracles are rife.
We can be sure of every promise he has ever made; His resurrection proved to all the price is really paid, The heaven he described is real, the power he offers, too, To be with us in every fight for what is good and true.
So courage, now, and boldness, to share His love and care, And take on every stronghold of the foul Prince of the Air, Including those within your heart, let Him purify And cleanse your soul so that in time you’ll never truly die.
Promises are easy to believe when things are going well, When every ear wants to hear the truths you’re offering to tell, When the crowds are cheering, and coming near from far and wide, Miracles abound and life comes back to those who died;
But when the mob turns violent and screams in rage at Christ your Lord, Mighty Rome is on their side and stands with endless gleaming swords, The one you thought would save you is scourged and beaten half to death, Those promises can easily seem like an empty shibboleth.
When He hangs there, maimed and spent, His lifeblood flowing from each tear, The jeering, leering audience fills your heart with more despair. Last week’s words of hope and life are lost amidst the awful sight, All thoughts have turned to how to hide and survive the coming night…
Promises are easy to believe when things are going well, Not when your world’s transforming into a seething, living hell; Amidst the chaos, turmoil and the terrifying noise, Remember what he promised in his calm and loving voice.
The Art and Craft of Writing, L.Jagi Lamplighter’s brilliant instructional guide for improving your writing craft, is available now in both ebook and paperback.
It contains 14 clear and useful lessons that explain powerful storytelling principles with practical examples and exercises that will be of benefit to beginner and experienced writers alike. If you want to improve as a writer, you cannot do better than this book.
My apologies for the long silence and the low quality of this production; lockdowns and heavy workloads and other factors have conspired to frustrate my efforts to produce something more worthy of those who follow my efforts, and I was restricted to using stock music instead of a commissioned accompaniment as I planned. Still, I hope at least some of you will find it enjoyable and uplifting.
Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to present Boogie Woogie Gospel, inspired by the joyful stylings of Dr K, otherwise known as Brendan Kavanagh.
Boogie Woogie Gospel
The world we live in changes with bewildering speed, With people ungrateful, hateful, jealous, bitter indeed. Well, as God is my witness, this musical business Is just the dose of joy that your soul really needs.
You don’t know me, so don’t throw me and my message away, Come up near now, so you’ll hear what I’m trying to say. Be rid of the darkness in your heart, Turn yourself around with a whole new start, And start a joyful life on this beautiful day.
A long time ago, a man played a dangerous game, Brought hope to the poor, the outcast, the sick and the lame; The corrupted elites looked down on the streets With jealous fury when the people called out His name.
He’s so holy and so wholly different from them, Bringing healing, revealing a radical change. He took their thorniest questions and evil suggestions, And wowed them with his wisdom, winning every exchange.
Embarrassed by their failure, they saw him as a deadly threat To their power and position, and so they plotted his death. They paid one of his friends to betray him, So they could take him in secret and slay him, But he used their evil plan to pay all of our debts.
He chose to be tortured and die the way that we deserved, ‘Cause he came to this world to save us, and not to be served; He offers us life abundant, where our worry and fear are redundant, Up in his Father’s house, he has our places reserved.
After everything that he’s done for all of us, I’d say he fully deserves every bit of our trust, So put your life in his hands, He’ll give you the strength to stand, And lead you faithfully to the Promised Land.
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Musical accompaniment: Boogie Woogie Bed by Audionautix, in places cut and pasted, at the end slowed
This is a song that I wrote in April in a doctor’s waiting room, and one that I hope will soon become very dated. It is sung approximately to the tune of ‘When Daddy Let me Drive’ by Alan Jackson.
People Filled With Fear
Sitting in a room of people filled with fear Don’t want to let their masks slip or get too near. Everyone so closed off, it’s no way to live; Welling up inside me, I want to reach out and give
A little gleam of hope, a little glimpse of truth, There’s more to life than dying once you lose your youth. You were made to love, you were made to thrive, I’m determined to be joyful every day that I’m alive, There’s no need to despair now, the Father is in charge.
So when the news is scolding us that we’re all doomed, Remember that our Saviour didn’t stay in his tomb. Whatever life may throw at us, we have at our side The mighty Lamb of God who chose us as his bride;
We are filled with hope, we all know the Truth, We’ve found a secret greater than the fountain of youth. There’s no need to run, there’s no need to hide, We have founts of living water welling up inside, So be bold and courageous, with the Spirit as our guide.
Today is my nineteenth wedding anniversary. I wrote and sang this song to her for the occasion:
Did you know?
Did you know, when you go,
In my heart you leave a hole?
My life isn’t full without you,
You’re worth more to me than gold.
When you smile, for a while,
I feel like I can fly;
It’s like heaven’s doors are opened,
For you I’d walk a hundred miles.
My heart is ever open
To you, my precious one;
Every time I bring you joy
It is the greatest prize I’ve won.
The day you said you were mine
I truly came alive;
I can’t imagine how to live
Without you by my side.
All the stars, with their cars,
And their hotel rooms and bars,
Are just wandering empty souls,
They don’t have half the joy that’s ours.
I’m so blessed to possess
A companion on our quest
To raise our children strong enough
To cope with every test
My heart is ever open
To you, my precious one;
Every time I bring you joy
It is the greatest prize I’ve won.
The day you said you were mine
I truly came alive;
I can’t imagine how to live
Without you by my side.
Yet here you are, my shining star,
I love you just as you are.
I will make a recording of the song available sometime in the near future.
(I neglected to post the song I wrote for her birthday a few weeks ago, I’ll post that next week).
War is spreading across the solar system over the prize that Brandt Wills just found. Could the key to ending this conflict be on blood-soaked Mars?
In a stolen alien ship together with the only other victim of Singularity he’s managed to rescue, Brandt and Psyche journey to war-torn Mars, beckoned there by an ancient alien presence and lured by tales of a massive recently uncovered structure that could be the source of Singularity’s power. Every major navy in the solar system is heading there after them, so things are about get ugly, fast.
The spectacular conclusion to David Hallquist’s epic Singularity War Trilogy is available now from Theogony Books.
Two weeks ago, I took part in the fourth Visible Music Weekend at the Evangelical Theological Seminary in Prague, in which the topic was live performances and livestreaming music performances, which culminated with a livestreamed music concert featuring songs by all of the participants in the weekend, together with some prerecorded videos, a short sermon and adverts for the two schools involved to give the live participants time to reorganize the stage between performers. The vast majority of the video is in Czech, so might not be of interest to the majority of my readers. (Some technical issues resulted in just under the first 40 seconds of the youtube video being blank). One of the prerecorded videos is a slightly tweaked version of my “Silent Night” video from several years back (21 minutes 23 seconds in), I feature in the backing choir in one song (39 minutes 37 seconds in), and my live section (starting at 56 minutes 26 seconds) is comprised of a bilingual reading of my Bohemian Advent poetry series, followed by the debut performance of a song I first wrote over a decade ago, but whose musical accompaniment was only finalised an hour before the livestream started, then finishing off with A Hope That Burns.
Through a combination of extreme nerves and no chance to rerecord things, I made a number of errors during my live performance, Over the coming weeks I will attempt to record a better quality version of Without Love, There is No Life for you all to enjoy. Here are the lyrics:
Without Love There Is No Life
(spoken)
Love is full of purity,
It shows patience and humility.
Love is not a selfish lust;
Instead, love gives a grounds for trust.
Love gives a child security,
Love gives a thing its beauty;
Because, without love there is no life. (music begins on life, the rest is sung)
Love is a many-splendoured thing.
Love gives a broken man new wings.
It perseveres, no matter what the cost;
If you have love, you’re never truly lost;
Love, seeing all my flaws,
Love, guided by higher laws;
You know, without love there is no life.
Love simply wants to hear the truth.
Love, it is not eternal youth.
Love is more than soothing noises,
‘Cause love steps up and makes hard choices.
Love lasts through the ages,
It’s written on all life’s pages.
You see, without love there is no life.
It makes the ordinary great,
Won’t mind if you are late,
Won’t leave you to your fate,
This is love.
Love puts you in harm’s way,
Though you try, you can’t always save the day;
Love is there to share your pain,
To weep and help you on your feet again,
Love is a healing flow,
Love gives you room to grow.
You know, without love there is no life.
Love looks you in the face;
Love helps you find your place.
With love, you can forgive the past,
Move on and build a peace to really last.
Love is where you find your worth;
If you’re loved, you’re more precious than the Earth.
You see, without love there is no life.
It shows you you belong,
It admits when it is wrong,
It’s majestic and it’s strong,
This is love.
But love is not every time returned,
Love is not something you have earned,
Sometimes our care isn’t even prized;
Instead our thoughts are utterly despised.
True love goes on caring anyway,
Even when we walk the other way;
It knows that without love there is no life.
Love is how your soul can truly shine,
Through love I am yours and you are mine,
Love expressed is such an open book,
A life of love is worth a closer look,
Can it be, that here is love for me?
Come explore this greatest mystery,
And see that without love there is no life.
Two and a half weeks ago, I appeared on Zaklog the Great’s Book Club again to discuss part of Sir Walter Scott’s poem “The Lay of the Last Minstrel”. Being an ex-pat myself, I thought I might be able to offer some interesting perspectives.
Lay of the Last Minstrel, Canto VI, [My Native Land]
Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land!
Whose heart hath ne’er within him burn’d,
As home his footsteps he hath turn’d
From wandering on a foreign strand!
If such there breathe, go, mark him well;
For him no Minstrel raptures swell;
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;—
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonour’d, and unsung.
The Zwyckyverse 