Tuesday, 18 November 2008
Sunday, 16 November 2008
Sunday - I made it!
Well here we are - a complete week of entries. I didn't think I had it in me!
It has been a very busy week and there have been things that i have meant to do but somehow not got around to. I haven't even managed to tidy my desk, but that can wait until the morning, as can a shave and shower.
I actually managed to write a chapter of a novel that has been fermenting in my mind for so long, it must be getting toxic. The only trouble is i don't really know where it is heading. i guess when i get back i can start chapter 2 and then see where i end up. It is strange how, as a boy I hated writing, and now i can't seem to get enough time to write all the thoughts that cascade through me. i want to write and of course i want to be read. There is a vanity there i guess, but I am beginning to think that I can write in a way that others might actually want to read.
There is a downside to all this fervent activity. I seem to have lost time to read, and although i have five books on the go, I seem to lose focus on reading very quickly as new thoughts enter my head and I then need to write them down. All this takes time and I just don't seem to have enough of it.
I have wanted to write about the American election and the blame culture that is now crucifying Sarah Palin but somehow my heart isn't in it. I hate to kick someone who is down.
Anyhow, off to hospital tomorrow, i have to check in at 10.30 and then, if I haven't absconded in my backless gown, I am being done in the afternoon. No doubt there will be no sense from me tomorrow (no change there I hear you say) but I hope to be back on tuesday and will post a bulletin as soon as I am able. Be kind to yourself and be happy.
It has been a very busy week and there have been things that i have meant to do but somehow not got around to. I haven't even managed to tidy my desk, but that can wait until the morning, as can a shave and shower.
I actually managed to write a chapter of a novel that has been fermenting in my mind for so long, it must be getting toxic. The only trouble is i don't really know where it is heading. i guess when i get back i can start chapter 2 and then see where i end up. It is strange how, as a boy I hated writing, and now i can't seem to get enough time to write all the thoughts that cascade through me. i want to write and of course i want to be read. There is a vanity there i guess, but I am beginning to think that I can write in a way that others might actually want to read.
There is a downside to all this fervent activity. I seem to have lost time to read, and although i have five books on the go, I seem to lose focus on reading very quickly as new thoughts enter my head and I then need to write them down. All this takes time and I just don't seem to have enough of it.
I have wanted to write about the American election and the blame culture that is now crucifying Sarah Palin but somehow my heart isn't in it. I hate to kick someone who is down.
Anyhow, off to hospital tomorrow, i have to check in at 10.30 and then, if I haven't absconded in my backless gown, I am being done in the afternoon. No doubt there will be no sense from me tomorrow (no change there I hear you say) but I hope to be back on tuesday and will post a bulletin as soon as I am able. Be kind to yourself and be happy.
Saturday, 15 November 2008
Saturday
Had a lot of strange dreams last night - I guess the inner tension is starting to show its presence.
Nothing much sort of day again. i wrote a little, and am now cooking a coq au vin for dinner - we have guests.
It is one of those dishes that sounds simple until you come to do it. preparation takes ages, not least of which
is the home made chicken stock. However it is done and simmering so i guess i need to shower and shave before they arrive.
I am only writing this to keep a clean sheet this week, with an entry for each day. One never knows which entry will be the last
so I press on and hope, always, to make one more.
Nothing much sort of day again. i wrote a little, and am now cooking a coq au vin for dinner - we have guests.
It is one of those dishes that sounds simple until you come to do it. preparation takes ages, not least of which
is the home made chicken stock. However it is done and simmering so i guess i need to shower and shave before they arrive.
I am only writing this to keep a clean sheet this week, with an entry for each day. One never knows which entry will be the last
so I press on and hope, always, to make one more.
Friday, 14 November 2008
It's Friday
I am full of good intent, and one of my pledges to myself this week was that I would blog each day and also try to find something interesting to write about. Well i have managed to write each day that is true, but some days i do struggle to find things to say.
I did make a start on a personal writing project today, more on that another time. It is something that I set out to do once before but never had the will to see it through. there is no guarantee that this time will be any different but i will at least make an effort for now.
I have enjoyed this week, and there are still a couple of days to go, so I see no reason why i shouldn't manage the seven days. I have written a lot this week and have received some feedback, much of which has been useful, and I am grateful to anyone who takes that trouble. Criticising someone's work is always risky as you never really know how they will take it, and if you are like em then you probably hate upsetting people, however I am prepared to accept whatever anyone throws at me.
I have managed to consume nearly a whole pack of pistachio nuts today and feel a little bloated, but now it is off to the kitchen to make a curry - well it is friday after all and i haven't had a curry since last week.
I did make a start on a personal writing project today, more on that another time. It is something that I set out to do once before but never had the will to see it through. there is no guarantee that this time will be any different but i will at least make an effort for now.
I have enjoyed this week, and there are still a couple of days to go, so I see no reason why i shouldn't manage the seven days. I have written a lot this week and have received some feedback, much of which has been useful, and I am grateful to anyone who takes that trouble. Criticising someone's work is always risky as you never really know how they will take it, and if you are like em then you probably hate upsetting people, however I am prepared to accept whatever anyone throws at me.
I have managed to consume nearly a whole pack of pistachio nuts today and feel a little bloated, but now it is off to the kitchen to make a curry - well it is friday after all and i haven't had a curry since last week.
Thursday, 13 November 2008
An ordinary day
Thursday, wet, cold and novemberish. I needed to press ahead with an assignment that is required for the first of the online tutorials. You can guess that it is scheduled for next week, while I am otherwise disposed. Oh well i spent today writing. The task seemed trivial at first but proved harder , and more rewarding than i thought. Given a list of twelve fairly mundane words, we have to write a few lines that brings each word to life. I hope i succeeded, as always feedback of a constructive nature is always welcome. Wow even destructive is ok, it means i am being read.
Mary
Mary, unlike her namesake, was no virgin. Her tired face, burdened by layers of hastily applied makeup, and illuminated by the harsh streetlight, appeared stark, colourless and unreal. Her cheap, revealing outfit did little to enhance a figure that had seen better days. She huddled and shivered in the thin, night air as she awaited her next client with no sense of anticipation at all.
Sorrow
The news of my brother’s death came as a complete shock. There was an initial inertia of disbelief, as I stumbled back to my lonely room, and as I closed the door on the world, reality began to diffuse into my consciousness, tears welled from the depths of my being and as I lay on my unmade bed, my body was racked with sobs excluding everything else. Never before had I understood the true meaning of sorrow.
Joy
The bonus ball was a six. He stared in disbelief as the numbers were put in sequence on the TV screen. He looked back at his lottery ticket and back at the screen, checking and double-checking and vaguely heard the presenter declaring that tonight there is just one lucky winner.
He couldn’t believe it; he had never won a thing in his life.
“And tonight’s jackpot is twelve million pounds” came through, penetrating his mind like a flash of lightning.
His problems were over; his debts could be finally paid and he could do whatever he wanted. Overwhelmed with joy, it took him seconds to realise what this meant to him.
“I’ve won the lottery Margaret,” he said quietly to the sour faced woman that his wife had turned into, and for the first time in years, she smiled, albeit icily.
“That’s nice,” she said in a sarcastic tone.
“Yes,” he replied, his heart almost bursting with a sense of newfound freedom. “You’d best get packed!”
She put down her knitting and for once showed an interest in what he was saying.
“Where are we going then?” she asked attempting to add warmness to her voice.
He looked at his wife with a look of utter contempt. “WE ain’t going nowhere! You are! Now clear off!”
Blue
Everything about the bedroom was cold. The small space was lit by a single blue bulb that hung from the ceiling on a frayed, fabric covered, flex. The weak light reflected evenly from the plain surfaces of the unpatterned walls and fabrics while intense black shadows hid underneath the bed and single chair. Their breath seemed suspended in thin blue clouds in the frigid air.
Mug
That mug meant a lot to me. Not that it was particularly special in itself. It was white, mass-produced and had the bright yellow face of Homer Simpson printed on it, but it had been a gift from someone very special.
Over the years it had become a part of my daily routine. It lived among the clutter of books and papers that also seemed permanent fixtures on my desk, and each tea break, I would rinse away the remnant of the previous drink under the cold tap before adding a fresh teabag and hot water. Never having been washed properly, the inner surface had gained a dense patina of dark brown tannins and a recent chip from the inner lip, stood out in stark contrast.
Why someone would want to steal it was beyond me.
Skirt
Her legs seemed to go on forever; an illusion accentuated by ridiculously high heels and the almost non-existent strip of fabric that the Carnaby Street Boutique dared call a skirt. The thin, floral printed, cotton garment that hung from her hips, left little to the imagination, and each tottering step that she made towards the front door revealed more than just a hint of white panties. She reached for the handle, but before she could turn it, her father’s voice boomed loudly the words that she had learned to dread.
“You are not going out looking like that!”
Shoe
The shoe felt heavy in her hand. The black, scuffed, faux leather was machine stitched and new looking laces were tied tightly in a double bow. Curious as to the strange weight, she peered inside it, immediately dropping it with an involuntary shriek. It still contained a foot.
John
John was approaching his sixtieth birthday, and as he aged was becoming more and more like his father. His once long, flowing hair had thinned and receded, while gravity had forced the migration of much of his flesh to his waistline. He mumbled, rather than spoke, and whenever his watery blue eyes met yours, it was over the rims of his reading glasses. He was working hard on his hypochondria, and enjoyed cataloguing his multiple complaints whenever anyone would take time to listen.
John had become what he had always despised. A pompous, self-righteous bigot.
Wednesday
Otherwise known as “Hump Day”, Wednesday was seen by the workforce as a day for optimism. The road towards the weekend seemed to be downhill from that point onwards, and for many it had the added advantage of being free from East Enders.
Car
His first car was a black, nineteen forties Austin 10. It lay in a clearing in the woods, surrounded by a sea of long grass, its engine and wheels long since removed. It had become a home for mice, birds and slow creeping rust and yet he revelled in the adventure as he sat on the tattered leather seat, smelling the decay and gripping the spindly steering wheel. He would drive for mile after mile, unable to see over the wheel or to reach the pedals, only returning when his mum called him in for tea.
Coffee
Being the last man on Earth wasn’t easy. There were no birds, cats, dogs, or even insects roaming the empty streets. He felt dreadfully alone as he explored the premises of what had been his hometown. There was no shortage of packaged food; he could pick up anything he needed and although there was nothing fresh, he still had plenty of choice and supplies to last his lifetime.
He stopped, his attention grasped by a new and intoxicating smell. Aromatic and strangely sweet, yet smoky fragrance drifted through the still spring morning, assaulting his sharpened olfactory sense and he felt his heart thumping in his chest for the first time in years. He knew that smell, and its significance. Someone was making fresh coffee.
Newspaper
I can still smell the vinegar soaked newspaper that once enhanced the whole fish and chips’ experience. At the end of a night out, what could be better than to stand at the bus stop, munching at the battered cod, whilst reading ancient news items from the grease stained and fragrant wrappings?
ps - guess which i found hardest??
Mary
Mary, unlike her namesake, was no virgin. Her tired face, burdened by layers of hastily applied makeup, and illuminated by the harsh streetlight, appeared stark, colourless and unreal. Her cheap, revealing outfit did little to enhance a figure that had seen better days. She huddled and shivered in the thin, night air as she awaited her next client with no sense of anticipation at all.
Sorrow
The news of my brother’s death came as a complete shock. There was an initial inertia of disbelief, as I stumbled back to my lonely room, and as I closed the door on the world, reality began to diffuse into my consciousness, tears welled from the depths of my being and as I lay on my unmade bed, my body was racked with sobs excluding everything else. Never before had I understood the true meaning of sorrow.
Joy
The bonus ball was a six. He stared in disbelief as the numbers were put in sequence on the TV screen. He looked back at his lottery ticket and back at the screen, checking and double-checking and vaguely heard the presenter declaring that tonight there is just one lucky winner.
He couldn’t believe it; he had never won a thing in his life.
“And tonight’s jackpot is twelve million pounds” came through, penetrating his mind like a flash of lightning.
His problems were over; his debts could be finally paid and he could do whatever he wanted. Overwhelmed with joy, it took him seconds to realise what this meant to him.
“I’ve won the lottery Margaret,” he said quietly to the sour faced woman that his wife had turned into, and for the first time in years, she smiled, albeit icily.
“That’s nice,” she said in a sarcastic tone.
“Yes,” he replied, his heart almost bursting with a sense of newfound freedom. “You’d best get packed!”
She put down her knitting and for once showed an interest in what he was saying.
“Where are we going then?” she asked attempting to add warmness to her voice.
He looked at his wife with a look of utter contempt. “WE ain’t going nowhere! You are! Now clear off!”
Blue
Everything about the bedroom was cold. The small space was lit by a single blue bulb that hung from the ceiling on a frayed, fabric covered, flex. The weak light reflected evenly from the plain surfaces of the unpatterned walls and fabrics while intense black shadows hid underneath the bed and single chair. Their breath seemed suspended in thin blue clouds in the frigid air.
Mug
That mug meant a lot to me. Not that it was particularly special in itself. It was white, mass-produced and had the bright yellow face of Homer Simpson printed on it, but it had been a gift from someone very special.
Over the years it had become a part of my daily routine. It lived among the clutter of books and papers that also seemed permanent fixtures on my desk, and each tea break, I would rinse away the remnant of the previous drink under the cold tap before adding a fresh teabag and hot water. Never having been washed properly, the inner surface had gained a dense patina of dark brown tannins and a recent chip from the inner lip, stood out in stark contrast.
Why someone would want to steal it was beyond me.
Skirt
Her legs seemed to go on forever; an illusion accentuated by ridiculously high heels and the almost non-existent strip of fabric that the Carnaby Street Boutique dared call a skirt. The thin, floral printed, cotton garment that hung from her hips, left little to the imagination, and each tottering step that she made towards the front door revealed more than just a hint of white panties. She reached for the handle, but before she could turn it, her father’s voice boomed loudly the words that she had learned to dread.
“You are not going out looking like that!”
Shoe
The shoe felt heavy in her hand. The black, scuffed, faux leather was machine stitched and new looking laces were tied tightly in a double bow. Curious as to the strange weight, she peered inside it, immediately dropping it with an involuntary shriek. It still contained a foot.
John
John was approaching his sixtieth birthday, and as he aged was becoming more and more like his father. His once long, flowing hair had thinned and receded, while gravity had forced the migration of much of his flesh to his waistline. He mumbled, rather than spoke, and whenever his watery blue eyes met yours, it was over the rims of his reading glasses. He was working hard on his hypochondria, and enjoyed cataloguing his multiple complaints whenever anyone would take time to listen.
John had become what he had always despised. A pompous, self-righteous bigot.
Wednesday
Otherwise known as “Hump Day”, Wednesday was seen by the workforce as a day for optimism. The road towards the weekend seemed to be downhill from that point onwards, and for many it had the added advantage of being free from East Enders.
Car
His first car was a black, nineteen forties Austin 10. It lay in a clearing in the woods, surrounded by a sea of long grass, its engine and wheels long since removed. It had become a home for mice, birds and slow creeping rust and yet he revelled in the adventure as he sat on the tattered leather seat, smelling the decay and gripping the spindly steering wheel. He would drive for mile after mile, unable to see over the wheel or to reach the pedals, only returning when his mum called him in for tea.
Coffee
Being the last man on Earth wasn’t easy. There were no birds, cats, dogs, or even insects roaming the empty streets. He felt dreadfully alone as he explored the premises of what had been his hometown. There was no shortage of packaged food; he could pick up anything he needed and although there was nothing fresh, he still had plenty of choice and supplies to last his lifetime.
He stopped, his attention grasped by a new and intoxicating smell. Aromatic and strangely sweet, yet smoky fragrance drifted through the still spring morning, assaulting his sharpened olfactory sense and he felt his heart thumping in his chest for the first time in years. He knew that smell, and its significance. Someone was making fresh coffee.
Newspaper
I can still smell the vinegar soaked newspaper that once enhanced the whole fish and chips’ experience. At the end of a night out, what could be better than to stand at the bus stop, munching at the battered cod, whilst reading ancient news items from the grease stained and fragrant wrappings?
ps - guess which i found hardest??
Wednesday, 12 November 2008
So far so good
Well the week has been pretty much ok so far. I have been reasonably productive and have kept myself pretty busy. I finished and posted the first piece of work for my course and that is quite a large hurdle to get over. It is largely an online experience and written work is posted for everyone else to read and of course comment on, so it is a bit like taking one's clothes off in public. The brief was fairly open but had to be in the first person and limited to 500 words. That is in itself daunting. 500 words sounds like a lot until you try to tell a story. However i bit the bullet an posted mine yesterday and feedback has begun. Unsurprisingly, people are being very kind, and no mud is in evidence yet. It will only take one to start it though, unless of course everyone is going to be very civilised. I rather hope that will be the case. Interesting that so far no tutor comments have been forthcoming. It's like setting homework to a class and then getting the class to mark it!!!
Anyhow i thought you might like to read my first effort. maybe I'll post my stuff here too so that I have a record of what i do.
(Actually I exceeded the 500 words)
***********
The pain was intense, and seemed to have no distinct origin. Waves of agony swept through my body, intermingled with the dream. Lucid images of a girl and a bar kept flashing before me like a high speed slide show, each image erased by a new wave of pain.
I forced my eyes open, needing to escape from the dream but the pain remained, enhanced by reality. I tried to move but my body refused to respond to instructions. I could see nothing, the blackness was complete as was the silence. I was lying down, on a hard surface and held down by a blanket of coarse material.
I tried to make sense of what was happening, images came and went but nothing made sense. What the hell was happening to me? I told myself that this was a dream, even that the pain was just a dream. I recalled that I had gone out drinking, and as usual I had drifted from one bar to another. I had met a girl, that was no dream, ok I was drunk, but not that drunk, I must have groaned aloud.
I tried to bypass the pain, focussing on the memories that flashed rapidly through my mind, and gradually something began to make sense. There had been a girl, and we had gone back to her place; they all look beautiful at that stage of the evening. She plied me with more drink and that is all that I could remember.
Fresh waves of sheer agony swept through me and I guess that I blacked out. When I came to, there was a grey light filtering into the room through ragged curtains. I could see that the room was unfurnished and that I lay on my back on bare floorboards covered by a blanket. I could turn my head and move my hands but an attempt to make any other move led to excruciating pain.
The silence was broken by the muffled sound of a cell phone. It took me some while to realise that the source lay beneath the thin pillow, and with difficulty I reached for it, pressed a button and held it to my ear.
“Glad you are awake at last.” Said a strangely familiar female voice.
“Don’t try to move and just listen to me. To save you asking, your location is unimportant right now. I am just a girl you met and will probably never remember.”
I tried to fix her face in my mind but I couldn’t.
“I am calling to tell you that you need to get to hospital pretty quickly.”
“But why…..” I began, but she cut me off quickly.
“No questions. There is a number pre-programmed in the phone. Call the hospital and someone will come to get you.”
She gave me the address, I didn’t recognise the street name. I sensed that she hadn’t finished and waited for her to speak again.
There was a long pause then……….
“You are probably wondering about the pain. “ another long pause.
“We took both of your kidneys two days ago. You need medical help, I am sorry”
The line went dead. The silence that followed was broken only by my screams.
Anyhow i thought you might like to read my first effort. maybe I'll post my stuff here too so that I have a record of what i do.
(Actually I exceeded the 500 words)
***********
The pain was intense, and seemed to have no distinct origin. Waves of agony swept through my body, intermingled with the dream. Lucid images of a girl and a bar kept flashing before me like a high speed slide show, each image erased by a new wave of pain.
I forced my eyes open, needing to escape from the dream but the pain remained, enhanced by reality. I tried to move but my body refused to respond to instructions. I could see nothing, the blackness was complete as was the silence. I was lying down, on a hard surface and held down by a blanket of coarse material.
I tried to make sense of what was happening, images came and went but nothing made sense. What the hell was happening to me? I told myself that this was a dream, even that the pain was just a dream. I recalled that I had gone out drinking, and as usual I had drifted from one bar to another. I had met a girl, that was no dream, ok I was drunk, but not that drunk, I must have groaned aloud.
I tried to bypass the pain, focussing on the memories that flashed rapidly through my mind, and gradually something began to make sense. There had been a girl, and we had gone back to her place; they all look beautiful at that stage of the evening. She plied me with more drink and that is all that I could remember.
Fresh waves of sheer agony swept through me and I guess that I blacked out. When I came to, there was a grey light filtering into the room through ragged curtains. I could see that the room was unfurnished and that I lay on my back on bare floorboards covered by a blanket. I could turn my head and move my hands but an attempt to make any other move led to excruciating pain.
The silence was broken by the muffled sound of a cell phone. It took me some while to realise that the source lay beneath the thin pillow, and with difficulty I reached for it, pressed a button and held it to my ear.
“Glad you are awake at last.” Said a strangely familiar female voice.
“Don’t try to move and just listen to me. To save you asking, your location is unimportant right now. I am just a girl you met and will probably never remember.”
I tried to fix her face in my mind but I couldn’t.
“I am calling to tell you that you need to get to hospital pretty quickly.”
“But why…..” I began, but she cut me off quickly.
“No questions. There is a number pre-programmed in the phone. Call the hospital and someone will come to get you.”
She gave me the address, I didn’t recognise the street name. I sensed that she hadn’t finished and waited for her to speak again.
There was a long pause then……….
“You are probably wondering about the pain. “ another long pause.
“We took both of your kidneys two days ago. You need medical help, I am sorry”
The line went dead. The silence that followed was broken only by my screams.
Tuesday, 11 November 2008
Remembrance
If anyone has not seen Holly's latest video, then please take a look - today would be good.
http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=-MShbKCXPr4
Monday, 10 November 2008
The weekend
Spent a long weekend in the Metropolis and am glad to get some peace and quiet again. I really don't handle noise too well right now and any background sounds tend to make any sort of conversation very difficult.
The object this weekend was to see Queen; not THE Queen, I wouldn't cross the road to see her, but QUEEN, seventies rock stars, along with Paul Rodgers, standing in for the late lamented Freddie.
This was at the O2, that big tent on the south of the river somewhere near Canary Wharf. It is BIG and must hold about 30,000 or more. It isn't just a concert venue, it is also rather like a small town in its own right, and we ate a hearty meal with wine for very reasonable rates before finding our seats. How odd it was when we found ourselves seated next to people that we knew, who had booked independently and more or less at the last minute. They live in the same town and we even knew them by name. The world sometimes feels very small.
It was LOUD - they went through most of their greatest hits and even Freddie got to appear albeit on a screen, singing Bohemian Rhapsody. The crowd loved them and one got the feeling that they were back in their element, faced with a sea of happy faces and waving arms.
It was an experience, and one shared by a pretty diverse audience, though i have to say it was largely white and middle aged. Would i go again? Bloody right i would.
The object this weekend was to see Queen; not THE Queen, I wouldn't cross the road to see her, but QUEEN, seventies rock stars, along with Paul Rodgers, standing in for the late lamented Freddie.
This was at the O2, that big tent on the south of the river somewhere near Canary Wharf. It is BIG and must hold about 30,000 or more. It isn't just a concert venue, it is also rather like a small town in its own right, and we ate a hearty meal with wine for very reasonable rates before finding our seats. How odd it was when we found ourselves seated next to people that we knew, who had booked independently and more or less at the last minute. They live in the same town and we even knew them by name. The world sometimes feels very small.
It was LOUD - they went through most of their greatest hits and even Freddie got to appear albeit on a screen, singing Bohemian Rhapsody. The crowd loved them and one got the feeling that they were back in their element, faced with a sea of happy faces and waving arms.
It was an experience, and one shared by a pretty diverse audience, though i have to say it was largely white and middle aged. Would i go again? Bloody right i would.
Wednesday, 5 November 2008
Frying pans and fires
I am back from my scrutination with very mixed feelings. It is always a bad moment when you enter a waiting room and see that it has a well used coffee machine, and yes there was a wait, though not as long as it might have been.
I think that I have been declared fit for the knife, at least i wasn't told any different, but the possible outcomes have been made very clear to me. It looks like I stand to lose a great deal and gain nothing. I may lose my sense of balance, my facial nerve function, as well as my sense of taste on that side too, but on the other hand if I don't get it done there is the almost certain possibility of a brain abcess sooner rather than later. So i signed the forms and feel really quite scared of the future. Damned if i do and damned if i don't.
:-(
I think that I have been declared fit for the knife, at least i wasn't told any different, but the possible outcomes have been made very clear to me. It looks like I stand to lose a great deal and gain nothing. I may lose my sense of balance, my facial nerve function, as well as my sense of taste on that side too, but on the other hand if I don't get it done there is the almost certain possibility of a brain abcess sooner rather than later. So i signed the forms and feel really quite scared of the future. Damned if i do and damned if i don't.
:-(
Trepidation
I am just filling in time, waiting to attend a pre-op medical that i am warned could occupy up to three hours today. I am also advised to take something to read. So i am to be poked and prodded and questioned at huge length to ensure that I am fit to be operated on. Just imagine being told that you are not!
Well Mr Obama has taken the poison chalice and is now the President Elect. What a whacky system, he now has to wait another length of time before he can take over, giving George W plenty of time to cover his tracks I suppose. How long can it take for a guy to clear his desk?
Oh well guess I'd better head off to the hospital or I'll never find anywhere to park.
Well Mr Obama has taken the poison chalice and is now the President Elect. What a whacky system, he now has to wait another length of time before he can take over, giving George W plenty of time to cover his tracks I suppose. How long can it take for a guy to clear his desk?
Oh well guess I'd better head off to the hospital or I'll never find anywhere to park.
Tuesday, 4 November 2008
Discrimination in the polls
This made me smile - an image on the BBC website! Are the Americans discriminating against the illiterates in their society?
Razzmatazz
Today could be a huge day in the history of the world. America may just manage to appoint its first black President. This really depends on the balance between the intelligent citizens and the Republicans and the proportions of which manage to drag themselves out to vote.
Having watched the process over the last , How many months? I would not be surprised if the vast majority had died from sheer boredom. The electoral system there seems to us outsiders, such a complex and tedious procedure, seemingly there to assure that they find the best man (probably) for the role. Amazingly they still managed to elect Bush, Reagan and Nixon. I find it a little sad that in such a vast and talented nation that they can still put monkeys in charge.
Will Obama be any different? Well he will look different that is for certain, he seems enthusiastic and smart but will he be able to be his own man or will he, like so many before him, respond to the money that pulls his strings. JFK tried to be his own man, and look where he ended up.
It would be good if Obama, should he be elected, can change the way in which the Americans see the world and the way in which the world sees America. Should he fail, then the world may live to rue that horrendous combination of McCain and Palin.
I wish him, and the people of America, the very best of luck.
Having watched the process over the last , How many months? I would not be surprised if the vast majority had died from sheer boredom. The electoral system there seems to us outsiders, such a complex and tedious procedure, seemingly there to assure that they find the best man (probably) for the role. Amazingly they still managed to elect Bush, Reagan and Nixon. I find it a little sad that in such a vast and talented nation that they can still put monkeys in charge.
Will Obama be any different? Well he will look different that is for certain, he seems enthusiastic and smart but will he be able to be his own man or will he, like so many before him, respond to the money that pulls his strings. JFK tried to be his own man, and look where he ended up.
It would be good if Obama, should he be elected, can change the way in which the Americans see the world and the way in which the world sees America. Should he fail, then the world may live to rue that horrendous combination of McCain and Palin.
I wish him, and the people of America, the very best of luck.
Saturday, 1 November 2008
Winter
Winter is here. November the first and it is wet and grey and cold and windy. The worst combination, guaranteed to provoke waves of emigration, in desire at least.
I loathe winter and see my way through it as a series of fences that need to be crossed before spring. Halloween was the first and now we are lurching along the muddy track towards the dreaded festivities in late December. I find it hard even to say the words, but each time I venture out, i am bombarded with the tacky tinsel coated rubbish that indicates the three month run up to the biggest anticlimax of the year.
Once that is gone and the rubbish all consigned to landfill, I then have my birthday to endure. I never look forward to that, probably because it is stuck in the middle of my least favourite month, but at least when that is done, much of winter is behind.
I'd like to sleep through february, it has no saving graces at all, though frogs seem to find it possible to begin their procreation in the icy ponds. Daffodils appear in march and they are so welcome with their promise of spring.
Actually I think I'll go to sleep now - wake me up in April.
I loathe winter and see my way through it as a series of fences that need to be crossed before spring. Halloween was the first and now we are lurching along the muddy track towards the dreaded festivities in late December. I find it hard even to say the words, but each time I venture out, i am bombarded with the tacky tinsel coated rubbish that indicates the three month run up to the biggest anticlimax of the year.
Once that is gone and the rubbish all consigned to landfill, I then have my birthday to endure. I never look forward to that, probably because it is stuck in the middle of my least favourite month, but at least when that is done, much of winter is behind.
I'd like to sleep through february, it has no saving graces at all, though frogs seem to find it possible to begin their procreation in the icy ponds. Daffodils appear in march and they are so welcome with their promise of spring.
Actually I think I'll go to sleep now - wake me up in April.
Thursday, 30 October 2008
Zeitgeist
http://www.zeitgeistmovie.com/main.htm
I just spent half an hour writing about Zeitgeist and lost the bloody text!!!
This rather intriguing movie can be seen at the above location and is worth seeing, although it should be viewed critically. It is not a film for the faint hearted or those with a short attention span, and probably not for those with a religious conviction, though from those that i know that have a faith, nothing could ever shake that. Evidence matters not a jot.
The film is about power and those that wield it and have done throughout the history of man. Religions had their day, and in the name of their mythology, have condemned so many to death. They also kept people in poverty while building the edifices that we all see and say Wow to.
One line , a quote that i will misquote now, talked about the Power of love needing to overtake the love of power, but until that happens and the mythological hell freezes over, we are doomed to be led by, not incompetant governments but by those with the real power - Money.
Money makes money and the banking corporations own us all. They thrive on poverty, misery and warfare, probably even famine and pestilence. They are in a win win situation as long as the population remains in ignorance or at the best - denial.
Much of the world, and i include my own country, is peopled by the ignorant. Most people are so busy trying to make a living and keep warm, that they are led so easily by the media, which in turn are controlled by the wealthy. We do as we are told and we do so willingly and without question, blissfully unaware that we are the tools of capitalism. ther is no need for any conspiracy as long as the sheep don't get out of their heavily guarded pens.
Ignorance is maintained by dumbing down of everything, including a curriculum in schools that has no content, little challenge and none of the real truth that matters.
We are lied to, day after day after day. People are sent to war, to maintain the profitability of the central banking system. We are terrified by the spectre of terrorism, that is in itself maintained by the same systems, and yet we do nothing.
Many imagine that the banks are hurting now. You can bet your life that the missing trillions are in the CBS vaults and the minds that maintain it are rubbing their hands gleefully.
Watch the movie and be aware if not afraid. Most people won't of course, and if they did, they might just shrug their shoulders and say - so what? Do i care? No of course they don't.
I just spent half an hour writing about Zeitgeist and lost the bloody text!!!
This rather intriguing movie can be seen at the above location and is worth seeing, although it should be viewed critically. It is not a film for the faint hearted or those with a short attention span, and probably not for those with a religious conviction, though from those that i know that have a faith, nothing could ever shake that. Evidence matters not a jot.
The film is about power and those that wield it and have done throughout the history of man. Religions had their day, and in the name of their mythology, have condemned so many to death. They also kept people in poverty while building the edifices that we all see and say Wow to.
One line , a quote that i will misquote now, talked about the Power of love needing to overtake the love of power, but until that happens and the mythological hell freezes over, we are doomed to be led by, not incompetant governments but by those with the real power - Money.
Money makes money and the banking corporations own us all. They thrive on poverty, misery and warfare, probably even famine and pestilence. They are in a win win situation as long as the population remains in ignorance or at the best - denial.
Much of the world, and i include my own country, is peopled by the ignorant. Most people are so busy trying to make a living and keep warm, that they are led so easily by the media, which in turn are controlled by the wealthy. We do as we are told and we do so willingly and without question, blissfully unaware that we are the tools of capitalism. ther is no need for any conspiracy as long as the sheep don't get out of their heavily guarded pens.
Ignorance is maintained by dumbing down of everything, including a curriculum in schools that has no content, little challenge and none of the real truth that matters.
We are lied to, day after day after day. People are sent to war, to maintain the profitability of the central banking system. We are terrified by the spectre of terrorism, that is in itself maintained by the same systems, and yet we do nothing.
Many imagine that the banks are hurting now. You can bet your life that the missing trillions are in the CBS vaults and the minds that maintain it are rubbing their hands gleefully.
Watch the movie and be aware if not afraid. Most people won't of course, and if they did, they might just shrug their shoulders and say - so what? Do i care? No of course they don't.
Wednesday, 29 October 2008
Normality
It seems a while since I wrote anything at all. I seem to find the need to express myself fading as time goes by. Partly I think that this is about laziness, but also because I find that as I get older, I seem more and more out of harmony with those around me. I really don’t set out to be different, but I seem to find myself in small minority groups on so many issues of the day.
I am not easily persuaded by others, unless they can really provide me with convincing evidence to back up their arguments, and please please never try to sell me anything.
There is a perversity in my nature that makes me go in the opposite direction to any flow of opinion or fashion and that I guess is what alienates me from people in general.
I just came back from a weekend visiting my daughter and son in law. They seem to have absorbed the misfortune that spoiled their holiday in New York, and are looking to the future with renewed optimism. It was good to spend some time with them and to be able to do some of the odd DIY jobs that busy young people never seem to be able to get around to. Us oldies still have some uses, and I was able to show them how to put up wallpaper, and to replace a broken window pane. I feel so much better for having seen them
The crunch has continued to crunch, the rich have got richer still and the poor as always will feel the pain more than anyone else, though I fear that many small businesses and even some large ones may collapse before things get any better.
Hungary is the latest European economy to teeter and it is vital that the rest of Europe should step in and prevent that situation from getting any worse. When one country collapses, many more will follow.
Anyhow I said that I’d try to be upbeat and I will say that the sun is shining today, and there is not a cloud in the sky. My mother is feeling better, and my sister’s broken rib, continues to heal.
I am not easily persuaded by others, unless they can really provide me with convincing evidence to back up their arguments, and please please never try to sell me anything.
There is a perversity in my nature that makes me go in the opposite direction to any flow of opinion or fashion and that I guess is what alienates me from people in general.
I just came back from a weekend visiting my daughter and son in law. They seem to have absorbed the misfortune that spoiled their holiday in New York, and are looking to the future with renewed optimism. It was good to spend some time with them and to be able to do some of the odd DIY jobs that busy young people never seem to be able to get around to. Us oldies still have some uses, and I was able to show them how to put up wallpaper, and to replace a broken window pane. I feel so much better for having seen them
The crunch has continued to crunch, the rich have got richer still and the poor as always will feel the pain more than anyone else, though I fear that many small businesses and even some large ones may collapse before things get any better.
Hungary is the latest European economy to teeter and it is vital that the rest of Europe should step in and prevent that situation from getting any worse. When one country collapses, many more will follow.
Anyhow I said that I’d try to be upbeat and I will say that the sun is shining today, and there is not a cloud in the sky. My mother is feeling better, and my sister’s broken rib, continues to heal.
Thursday, 16 October 2008
tears
Thanking my readers for their kind and useful comments, I continue; my week actually getting worse. I have hesitated to write about this but sometimes writing things down can help. I rarely cry. I have an ability to bury my emotions and not allow others to know what I feel. Tears were always seen as a sign of weakness and i guess that old habits die hard. Tuesday night I cried and cried, I couldn't help it. It was my daughters birthday, she is on holiday in New York and on tuesday her husband called to tell us that she had miscarried their first baby and was in a hospital. We didn't even know that she was pregnant.
Pragmatically I know that these things happen all the time and that there are usually good biological reasons as to why they happen. I know that pregnancy is hard to maintain and that the overall chances of coming to term are far smaller than most people think, but it doesn't help. She is heartbroken of course, but she will move on, always associating her birthday with her own personal tragedy, but at least she is ok and today flies home. I feel a need to hold her but that will have to wait until next week.
Oh I also spoke to my sister yesterday. She had just fallen downstairs and was in a lot of pain. I now can't get any response from her on either landline or mobile! It is a good job that I don't believe in a God, or I might begin to feel persecuted!
Pragmatically I know that these things happen all the time and that there are usually good biological reasons as to why they happen. I know that pregnancy is hard to maintain and that the overall chances of coming to term are far smaller than most people think, but it doesn't help. She is heartbroken of course, but she will move on, always associating her birthday with her own personal tragedy, but at least she is ok and today flies home. I feel a need to hold her but that will have to wait until next week.
Oh I also spoke to my sister yesterday. She had just fallen downstairs and was in a lot of pain. I now can't get any response from her on either landline or mobile! It is a good job that I don't believe in a God, or I might begin to feel persecuted!
Tuesday, 14 October 2008
weekend woes
The weekend was difficult. A bittersweet mix if ever there was one. At the harsh end, I went to visit my mother. Something I don't do very often, and it is not her fault. When I left home all those years ago, it was to escape from the clutches of what had been holding me there, and I vowed that i would never return. When i visit, it is only ever for short spells of a day or less. This is my choice.
My mother is very ill. She has a chronic lung problem brought on largely by smoking, which she continues to do despite the misery of not being able to breathe. She now has a chest infection on top of the chronic health issue and coughs incessantly. The medication seems to do little to help and being there was horrible. I hated to see her suffer and felt bad that there was nothing that I could do to make a difference. I could have stayed longer I guess, but to what end? I could have sat with her, watching her suffer until they took her into hospital again, which of course they have.
My sister feels bad for moving away and she likes to take out her feelings on me, attempting to make me feel a guilt that is not there. I do not feel guilty, but I do feel frustrated and powerless and so have even more bad feelings associated with being in my home town. I am in a vicious spiral here, i hate being there and so i don't go and then feel bad that i don't go. Maybe my attitude is selfish but my escape from home left it's scars and its damage is permanent.
I don't even want to talk to my sister now as her projecting onto me is unpleasant and unhelpful. I know that failing parents is a problem that comes to many of us, but living so far away makes the problem so much more difficult to deal with. I don't know what to do.
My mother is very ill. She has a chronic lung problem brought on largely by smoking, which she continues to do despite the misery of not being able to breathe. She now has a chest infection on top of the chronic health issue and coughs incessantly. The medication seems to do little to help and being there was horrible. I hated to see her suffer and felt bad that there was nothing that I could do to make a difference. I could have stayed longer I guess, but to what end? I could have sat with her, watching her suffer until they took her into hospital again, which of course they have.
My sister feels bad for moving away and she likes to take out her feelings on me, attempting to make me feel a guilt that is not there. I do not feel guilty, but I do feel frustrated and powerless and so have even more bad feelings associated with being in my home town. I am in a vicious spiral here, i hate being there and so i don't go and then feel bad that i don't go. Maybe my attitude is selfish but my escape from home left it's scars and its damage is permanent.
I don't even want to talk to my sister now as her projecting onto me is unpleasant and unhelpful. I know that failing parents is a problem that comes to many of us, but living so far away makes the problem so much more difficult to deal with. I don't know what to do.
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