To be honest, if we hadn’t been to Greenbelt before, the thought of going to a ‘Christian Arts Festival’ might be about as enticing as an offer of a wet weekend spent poking ourselves in the eye with a pointed stick. The reality is very different. This year’s adventures included some cutting edge table surfing, a little bit of mud sliding, listening to a life-shaping talk given through a megaphone, and a few rousing Christmas Carols in a beer tent in August. Whatever shape Greenbelt takes, it never fits neatly into any particular box.

I can remember going to parties at the end of 1979 armed only with a copy of Time for Action and doing my best to get it played as often as possible during the evening. Sometimes this involved lifting the needle halfway through some lame 70s disco song in order to get my way. So last Saturday’s trip to London to see a reformed Secret Affair was also a scary trip down memory lane. Here’s the gig review and a few stories from those heady days of scooters, sharp dressing and seemingly endless run-ins with skinheads and bikers......

Considering their claim to love democracy, the US, Australia and the 27 member states of the EU - including the UK - have been very quiet about the overwhelming success of Bolivia’s President Evo Morales in the country’s recent recall referendum. Despite the support of over 67% of voters, Morales’ government doesn’t fit the western model because it’s genuinely concerned with social justice rather than an economic system based on more profits for those with more than enough already. Here’s to Morales, another hero of South America’s socialist revolution.

Another average day for redpillboy including: a fair trade banana, a visit to the doctor, an employer’s potentially harmful sickness absence policy, a serious head on road accident, morbid thoughts, a distraught immigrant worker, a visit from the air ambulance, a bizarre interview for Sky TV, the delights of the Accident & Emergency department at Kettering General Hospital, irrational fears about the loss of an iPod adaptor, some legal drugs, and some painful but very boring sleepless nights.

Regular readers will know that I am a hopeless romantic. So few will be surprised to discover that I took my wife for an intimate birthday dinner in one of the UK’s largest outdoor vegan restaurants. OK, we went to Climate Camp 2008 in a field in Kent. But it was outdoors. And the food was vegan. This is the story of a great day when five of our family got stopped by the police in two separate locations. A day that confirmed to us that the world really is upside down.

It’s fashionable to say that the class divide is a thing of the past. Although few people in the UK walk around with top hats, and vacancies for butlers are few and far between, the divide still exists. This was reinforced last week when I went to get my hair cut. Now I’d never connected politics with the scissor arts but that all changed when I went for bit of well overdue stylistic damage limitation. First I read a laminated notice which had been stuck to the counter and then I spoke to the young woman who was doing my hair. Then steam started coming out of my ears.....

For five years we’ve spent a week each summer in a gentle Devon seaside town, often leaving just as the Sidmouth Folk Festival kicked off. Two years ago we were viciously entertained by a gang of morris dancers in an unprovoked routine. One minute enjoying the sea breeze, the next assaulted by hankies, bells, sticks and three day old sweat. This year we caught the start of the festival again but a bit of detective work allowed us to enjoy good local ale, great British music, a night swim, a meeting with a wizard and an unfeasibly large pickled onion...

Just as the brand name Hoover became synonymous with an everyday activity, so Google has gone from being a brand to being a verb. For many people, searching for something on the internet is the same as ‘googling’ it. For those who used to research using a combination of bulky business directories, microfiches and libraries, searching on the internet can be a liberating experience. It’s not without its dangers, though, and Take the Red Pill has one simple tip which could protect your privacy, your bank balance and possibly your conscience.......

The first in a series looking at songs that have impacted our lives in some way, bringing us joy or pain or maybe a bit of both. Those who know me well would have predicted – forget that, would have put serious money on - my first choice being something by the Jam or Paul Weller. Nobody would have guessed that I’d choose a track by the Communards, a band that had its heyday when Thatcher’s shadow still cast its unwelcome chill across the UK. But this track has been burning itself into my brain recently. So I’d better explain why......

Having started with the excellent - but not particularly funny US history book - 20th Century by Howard Zinn*, our series continues with a British history book featuring more than just a dash of humour. An Utterly Impartial History of Britain (or 2,000 Years of Upper Class Idiots in Charge) by John O’Farrell was my trusty companion over the last Christmas break. O’Farrell has had several books published, been a columnist for the Guardian, a scriptwriter and an occasional guest on TV shows. So I’m not jealous at all. Ok, here’s that review I promised you...