"Croeso i ddyfnderoedd fy isymwybod: Welcome to the depths of my subconscious. Shark Fishing in Wales is one man's odyssey to understand the land of his birth through anecdote, observation and reminiscence! By learning about his country, perhaps he can learn more about himself. A process of individuation which Carl Jung suggests we should all go through. Less assuming one nationhood and more working towards one nationhood before we become Independent." Daf Williams
Cymru/Wales: Bipolar Nation
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https://linktr.ee/lucyreidarts 'I can play the piano' whispered 5-year-old me to our deputy head teacher Mr. Dennis who was s...
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As a Ffrinj Nutter who had a dalliance with the Welsh Nationalist Party/ Plaid Cymru/ The Party of Wales many, many years ago I was p...
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January 1988 sees me starting work (Kairdiff Vernacular) at 'The Printers' on Broadway, Roath Cardiff. It looked less like the o...
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'Gizza Job'! I will be 46 years of age on St David's Day. I have been a Head of Drama in a tough, inner city secondary scho...
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The Hero's Journey from David Williams on Vimeo . I know that some of you read this blog especially the very popular Guest Blog P...
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+ = My life can be distilled into the above arithmetical equation. Capel(Chapel) + Ysgol(School) = Carchar(Prison) There ...
Wednesday 30 July 2014
Land of Vimto
Monday 28 July 2014
Prolific Blogger
35,000 Page views from America, Russia and a few from Britain. Shark Fishing in Wales is read around the world. I am the greatest! Oops sorry I slipped into Muhammad Ali mode then. The little boutique blog started in January 2012 after reading Richard Brautigan's 'Trout Fishing in America'. That's where I got the title from. I am very excited by my little blog. It is my view on things. I like my view on things. It hasn't got me very far in life but hey, there's a downside to everything. I could carry on like this ad infinitum and I probably will.
It was mostly prose but I've branched out into comic verse, loosely entitled poetry. There is a poetry to most things in life, sex, death and sport to name but three. Poetry is the flow! Poetry is the River! And only the Rivers run free.
Sunday 27 July 2014
Beer, Fags & Indigestion
Friday 25 July 2014
A life without social media?
Tuesday 22 July 2014
Llythyr ir Golygydd/Letter to the Editor
In response to Danny ap Nicholas's llythyr/letter of the 22/07/14 I thought I would reply in Wenglish so that we could all understand it. He wrote in English you see and that is not the indigenous language of Cymru/Wales. As a resident of Trelai/Ely in Caerdydd/Cardiff I wonder if Mr Nicholas sings the Welsh National Anthem/Yr Anthem Cenedlaethol Cymraeg at Match Days in the Prifddinas/Capital of Wales or is he like Max Boyce's family like a 'whole row of goldfish' mouthing the words. The Welsh Language is a Treasure/Trysor not a rhwystr/impediment. I didn't even know what that was in Welsh and had to look it up. There isn't even a Welsh Translation for the Western Mail and you yourself are the Papur Cenedlaethol Cymru! Every day there is a letter about the Welsh language, it is somewhat of a Taten Poeth/Hot Potato. Yesterday/Ddoe you decided to promote Mr Nicholas letter to Rhif 1/No 1 which I think is really testament to the Western Mail's/No Welsh Translation available editorial policy! You have a 'Welsh Watch' in your supplement on Saturday as if it was some endangered species and indeed it will be if you continue to promote anti-welsh language sentiment through your letters page. Would it not be better to call a cadoediad/ceasefire and allow the language which was here before the Western Mail and Danny Nicholas of Ely. To quote the late Parchedig/Reverend Glyn James of Ferndale/Glynrhedyn, y Rhondda Fach/Little Rhondda. "Welsh was spoken across the continent of Europe whilst English was not even a scream in the forests of Germany". As the National Newspaper of Wales you have a duty to redress the balance in today's Cymru/Wales. I look forward to seeing my letter at Rhif 1/No 1 in tomorrow's Western Mail/ Post Gorllewinol?
Yn Gywir
The Shark Fisherman of Wales
Deepest/Darkest Grangetown
Saturday 19 July 2014
Gwas bach ffyddlon
Friday 18 July 2014
nationalist with a small n
Monday 14 July 2014
Dai Mutant
Sunday 13 July 2014
The Arrogance of Golfers
You stand there, squeaking on the green, in new shoes.
Canary Yellow, Flamingo Pink, not just blue but bastard BLUE jumpers.
Your glove caressing your backside in the way your wife doesn't.
Sneering middle management in a Valleys golf club!
You really do think that you're something,
the way you swipe that ball off the ground
with your hand.
I'm sorry if I coughed.
Did I put you off?
How are you getting on?
What's it say on your scorecard?
You've done well since we started off in the Steelworks together.
Sorry if my dog got your ball and that!
Well it is right of way for walkers.
You expect me to stop for you as you tee off?
You can fuck right off Delme...to Malaga and back!
Four!!!
Wednesday 9 July 2014
Two Forms
I sent two forms off this morning, one to the IVF clinic at the University of Wales Hospital, Heath, Cardiff, consenting to them to allow my sperm to perish and the other one to Cardiff City Council (Council Tax Division) confirming that I was the only occupant at my residency. I won't give you any more information, I'll let you join up the dots.
So unless I meet someone sharpish that I can impregnate it is unlikely now that I will become a father which is a shame (I think so anyway) because I have been told by a few women that I would make a good Dad. Even if a miracle was to happen and a 'hottie' was to show up that I could make pregnant I don't think it would be fair on the child because 1) I have Bi-Polar Disorder and they might inherit it which would be a fate worse than death for the kid so best to remain unborn and 2) I will be pushing into old age when the child becomes a man or woman. Elderly parents have their place but to leave your children bereft too young is not a good idea.
3) Any man who refers to women or potential mothers as 'hotties' doesn't deserve to be a father/husband.
It appears that on a lot of forms for the NHS, for the DWP, ATOS etc etc that one of the first questions they ask you is about your relationship status presuming that you have a partner and child. Now I feel that it is a strange presumption to make, similar to guilty unless proven innocent. Our society is obsessed with coupling and mortgages and procreation to the detriment of single people. Single people deserve awards, they deserve single person benefits rather than having to pay Single person supplements when they go on holiday. "Oh you want a single room do you, that'll be 25pound extra". 25 pound for staying single? Single people are doing the world a favour by not joining in the chaos and mayhem. Procreating couples and families will shift the earth off its axis if they carry on at this rate. It appears that you can be financially better off in all sorts of ways if these forms are to be believed. I just hope future generations will appreciate my sacrifice and thank me for not bringing another little shark fisherperson into this mess and no I am not interested in being a Step Dad.
Tuesday 8 July 2014
Cardiff's Mediterranean Quarter
Monday 7 July 2014
The Incredible Shrinking Man
Bob tro dwi'n dychwelyd i Gaerdydd ar ôl treulio amser yn gwahanol rannau o Gymru dwi'n teimlo fel 'The Incredible Shrinking Man'. Mae e'n dechrau'r eiliad dwi di ddod i ffwrdd o drofa'r M4, Cardiff West a dwi'n mynd lawr yr A4232, mae teimlad o anesmwytho yn dod drosta’i. Mae rhaid i mi fod yn was bach y Brifddinas eto, dyn tawel sydd yn troi ei gefn ar y gymdeithas ddinesig byddent nhw’n Gymru nei beidio. Mae'r ymarferiad yr un peth bob tro, parcio'r car mor agos i’n tŷ sydd yn bosib ac wedyn adael o yna tan y tro nesaf mae rhaid i mi ffoi i'r Gorllewin neu'r Gogledd oherwydd yn eiriau Kenny Rogers fi ydy 'The Coward of the County' neu 'Incredible Shrinking Man'. Dwi'n nerfus iawn dreifio o gwmpas y ddinas ac fel person mewn oedran dwi'n cynllunio bob taith, faint o gloch fydd cyn lleied o draffig o bobol ar hyd y lle i mi gael y siawns gorau posib o daith di ffwdan. Mae rhywbeth mawr yn crynhoi yn fy nghorff os fydd rhaid i mi stopio mewn jam traffic neu oherwydd bod 'na gymaint ar hewl. Felli yn y ddinas fawr hyll yma ble rwyf wedi bod yng ngwystlon am bum mlynedd ar hugain dwi'n cerdded i bob man neu dwi'n seiclo. Anaml fyddai yn dal y bws, gormod o bobol. Dwi'n sylweddoli fy mod i yn hoffi sefyllfaoedd a phobol mi allai rheoli! Mae hwnna yn swnio yn rhyfedd ond os dwi'n teimlo fod person yn mynd i grynhoi mi neu fy mygwth yn emosiynol, dwi'n osgoi nhw, dyna pam fod gweithio mewn meysydd confensiynol yn gymaint o her. Mi fydd na digwyddiadau a phobol ni allet ti reoli.
Dwi'n ceisio cadw proffil isel yn y stryd, peidio mynd allan os fydd na lot o bobol neu gymdogion yn mynd a dod. Dwi'n osgoi'r amseroedd brysura'r dydd. Ofn, rhwystredigaeth, arferiad, y zone 'cyfforddus'. Mae rhaid newid lleoliad ond i ble a pham! Mi wnes i symid i Lundain yn 2000 i ddechrau bywyd newydd, well dyna oedd y gobaith ond yr un hen fywyd oedd o, yr un hen feddylfryd ond mewn lleoliad wahanol. Maent yn deud galla’u chi ddim dysgu triciau newydd i hen gi ond yn fy achos i ddwi'n gobeithio nad ydy hwnna yn wir.
Saturday 5 July 2014
Wednesday 2 July 2014
The Darkness of Davies
It's called Karma or 'kick a man when he's down' and that's exactly what Alun Davies did to me in 1994. At the time he was a member of Plaid Cymru's National Executive. He lived in a flat near the Coops public house in Aberystwyth. I was a common and garden member of the Federation of Plaid Cymru Students and very often we would congregate in the confused seaside town for conferences and piss ups. After one particular conference/piss up a gang of us all ended up back at Davies's flat. It was late and we were noisy. His neighbours from downstairs came out and asked us to be quiet and allegedly I told them where to go. Inside his flat we all took up our pissed positions and I knelt behind the sofa looking at the television feeling comfortably numb. He, allegedly, having spoken with his neighbours, came raging up the stairs and he ran and took a flying kick at me, landing his boot in my ribs. He screamed and I shouted back. I didn't hit him but walked passed him and out. My ego had been bruised.
Twenty years ago now and he is no longer 'Plaid Cymru' but has taken the ambitious Politician's route and is now the tenuous member for the environment as a Labour Minister within the Grey Lady's (Carwyn Jones) administration at the Welsh Assembly Building also known affectionately as the Senedd. I thought I would publish this now to call into question his temperament as a human being first and foremost let alone as a Minister.
It is time for the Overlord of Darkness to resign. He could always get a job as one of the adversaries of Dr Who.
Coch Bach y Bala
Welsh Army
The fact is, the poet does not want admiration, he wants to be believed.
— Jean Cocteau Quotes (@CocteauQuotes) September 21, 2020
Fruity old fruit bats
Hello my fruity old fruit bats! That is a term of endearment by the way. I thought I would treat you to a piece of prose rather than the b...
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Bottom of the Ottoman
Bottom of the Ottoman from David Williams on Vimeo.
Crying in your Beer from David Williams on Vimeo.
Hitler navigates the A487 from Aberaeron to Aberystwyth
I shall never wear tweeds from David Williams on Vimeo.