No room for complacency, again the government is wanting us to carry our identity on a handy credit sized card. I still don't buy it. Nor will I ever.

(You are now entering a place beyond utility...
Please mind your feet on the glass ceiling.)

And who am I?

Well shall I just say....

I was born in Cardiff, Wales, in 1967.
I share a birthday with the Queen.
I was for quite some time alleged to be a 'job seeker'.

Now I work for a County Council as a Broadband Officer.
From 'Artist' to 'Engineer' in several easy steps.

Cybercafe, NTL, on digital, ITV Digital, Probation Service, Powys Healthcare Trust, Swansea County Council, Carmarthenshire County Counil.

I regard myself as many things.

Partner, lover, friend.

Employee, citizen, subject.

I resent the imposition someone else's view of my identity.
The idea of Identity Cards horrifies me.
I never agreed to live in Fortress Europe
I don't want self important little shits
Demanding that I show proof of my identity at their pleasure.

Scan me,

Print me,

Scrutinize my face,

If I can be made, I can be faked.

I am not sure of my real identity,
But I do know that it doesn't fit on a piece of plastic
The size of a credit card
The Crown
The Stars
And the flag of what union?

Blake's been dead for niegh on 200 years
Yet he cleary forsaw the fourfold man
And humanity in deadly sleep

I have a map on my wall
It is an old map of Europe
My map of Europe it stretches from Iceland to Siberia
From Morocco to Persia.
Yugoslavia falls right in the middle of the political map of Europe
It was a map rescued from the dustbin of history in 1991
The year all those borders shifted back to how they were in my pre-war map
And a 'civil' war started in the middle of my map

So
How dare you call me perverse while you still call any war civil.