Then The road Of Entities 2.

I can never tell...

2012-01-31T12:07:00.001Z

... what's going on when I've nothing to say.

I assume that all the changes have been small and incremental- something must have happened but I didn't notice it.

Perhaps I should check History and try to recall my life in easy to digest Google searches?

Quite honestly I'm plain stuck on what to cook tonight and that seems to be it.

Riveting.

Perhaps it's because other people's news is theirs not mine, kinda unethical for me to discuss.

Nevertheless...

Offspring at college means soap-opera-class news.

There is, as far as I can see no excuse for my repetition, it's not big, it's not clever, but I'm bored.

Here is one collage tale, and how it progressed:

A male tutor slept with a student.
Oh that's bad, how could he be so stupid!
The student is 24 years old.
Oh...I don't see the problem?
How did any one know...or rather why was it reported?
Another student told student services that she thought that is what had happened...
No smoke without fire though...

About two months latter we get the next instalment:

She (the 24 year old) lived alone, was having a hard time financially. He listened to her problems and bought her shopping. She wanted it to go further, he didn't. She reported him.

Oh...depressing.

Fall out from Son's music Btec.

2012-01-25T15:37:00.001Z

http://music2.phann.org/album/stars

Music as a vector in spreading the word of Satan.

1/ Paranoia: The portrayal of the occult comes in two flavours; First the cheesy stink of Hammer Horror with notes of rotting meat. This horror taps into old images, old even when the Romans wrote them down. Lucan's Erictho seen in the darkness of Rec.

This mind set of someone who believes this form of the occult is to perceive malevolent forces and destruction as an enemy always waiting to be let in. The forces will trick someone to inadvertently let them in. There are portals...everywhere, but especially in rock and roll!.

2/ Enlightenment: The other occult, the one I was brought up with, was written into modern existence by Eliphas Levi. This occult is secrets hidden from all but those who chose to see.

Eliphas Levi paints a picture of the Magus as a seeker after a truth that must be revealed, and defines magic as the ability to act in accord with what is.

"Magic is the divinity of man achieved in union with faith...".

Often poetry and classical music are spoken of as magic in the Levi sense, whilst Rock and Roll belongs to that other kind of magic- the kind represented by Hammer and Rec.

History.
Robert Johnson was described by Eric Clapton as "the most important Blues musician who ever lived". His skill as a musician influenced many song writers such as Muddy Waters and Bob Dylan, but even while he was alive there were rumors that this skill wasn't something he had been born with.

Johnson, it was said, had sold his soul to the devil.

The titles of his songs didn't do anything to deny this rumor, rather they added to it; titles such as: "Hellhound on my Trail", "Me and the Devil Blues", and the narrative of "Crossroad Blues" -"Went down to the crossroads, bent down on my knees".

The idea had probably begun with Clara Smith's 1924 track "Done Sold My Soul To The Devil- And My Heart’s Done Turned To Stone".

It was said that Robert Johnson had taken his guitar down to a crossroad near Dockery’s plantation at midnight. There he met a large man who took the guitar and tuned it, and gave it back. From then on Johnson was a master of the guitar...but in return for this, he had sold his soul, followed the example of Faust and signed. Within a year of this Johnson was recognised as one of the greatest Delta Blues musicians…but within two more years, he was dead and his soul had gone to Satan.

Scandinavian folk stories tell of a creature called a Nakk with whom one can barter for such skills, Tibetan folk tales tell of the serpent-like Naga, who know all there is to know. Nagajuna for instance, an alchemist learnt all he needed to know to become immortal from the Naga.

But Robert Johnson's story borrows from the traditions of Voodoo. Blues music contains voodoo imagery and allusions…such as 'Mojo' and 'John the Conqueror which is a plant talisman used by the 'root doctor'’, a voodoo priest or shaman who became known as the 'hoochie-coochie man'…(Michael Baigent and Richard Leigh The Elixir and the Stone)

1950s
"If black music is the father of rock, voodoo is its grandfather." Baigent and Leigh.

The language of the Blues carried over into a later type of music, often seen – like the Blues – as an outlet of rebellion against the powers that be: Rock and Roll.

Rock and Roll was seen as white music gone black, from the first moment that Elvis Presley’s gyrating hips shocked 1950s America, the 'new music' was denounced by puritanical Christians as the Devil's music.

Rock and roll music.drew to it the metaphor of a portal; semi seen, shimmering in multicoloured sound. Rock music was the devil's music. It made young people dance as if possessed. It made boys dress in strange clothes and rip up cinema seats. It was spiritual darkness- songs with few words, songs of lust and envy. Rock, from the primal land of Africa was degenerate; a portal to a ladder leading inexorably down the evolutionary tree, away from the stars and light, down into the animal and beyond.

In the 1960s the Zen Buddhism that had inspired the Beat poets added another dimension to music. The young seemed to reject violence and killing and thought that poetry could be free form, and that sex was no longer a sin, oh my (the collapse of social order is at hand). Music was regarded as a vector, or carrier of Satan's message.

It was stealing the souls of 'our children' .

Music was a magic as performed by the Wizard of Oz; an hypnotic spell, an illusion designed to appeal to the young.

This magic smelt of patchouli oil and it represented future adults vanishing from the economy, dropping out and tuning in to a sleep inducing- narcotic hot air that smelt of marijuana...

The Rolling Stones evoked the other fear, Hammer and Rec. Their Blues influenced music automatically linked them to Voodoo and the Stones did nothing to deny any rumors of Satanic influence. In December 1967, The Rolling Stones released the album Their Satanic Majesties Request, which made the Top 5 on both the US and UK music charts. A year latter the Stones were singing "Sympathy for the Devil". Their involvement with drugs and arrests, the death of their guitarist Brian Jones, and their involvement in the Altamont Free Festival – where the Hells Angels gang murdered a fan – meant that by the beginning of 1970, the band was seen by many as the closest thing to Satan in music.

1970s
In the early 1970s Led Zeppelin released their untitled fourth album known as Led Zeppelin IV ( Stairway to Heaven- The Led Zeppelin song, Stairway to Heaven was said to contain lyrics played backwards designed to place a key to the door of Satan in a listener's mind, Black Dog, Going to California, etc!). It is sometimes also called ZoSo, after the sigil found on the album jacket; one of a group of four symbols, each said to represent a member of the band, with 'ZoSo' being Jimmy Page's. A similar symbol can be found in a 1557 book on alchemy, the Ars Magica Arteficii, where it represents the planet Saturn. To compound the references, there is an image from the tarot on the cover and various pressings of other Led Zeppelin releases were inscribed with the words made famous by Alistair Crowley (The Great Beast)- "Do What Thou Wilt".

Jimmy Page, in popular imagination anyway, reeked of Hammer and Rec. But in Page's own words, his use of the occult was in the tradition of Eliphas Levi and had nothing to do with chaos and destruction. When asked why he used the image of the hermit on the album sleeve and in his section of the film: The Song Remains The Same, Page answered:

(The hermit)...has it’s origins in a painting of Christ called The Light of the World by the pre-Raphaelite artist William Holman Hunt. The imagery was later transferred to the Waite tarot deck [the most popular tarot deck in use in the English-speaking world]. My segment was supposed to be the aspirant going to the beacon of truth, which is represented by the hermit and his journey toward it. What I was trying to say through the transformation was that enlightenment can be achieved at any point in time; it just depends on when you want to access it. In other words you can always see the truth, but do you recognize it when you see it or do you have to reflect back on it later?

http://www.zimbio.com/Aleister+Crowley/articles/11/Jimmy+Page+Aleister+Crowley+deciphering+mage

The occult wasn't the main cause of concern as the 1970s came to an end. David Bowie's reference to the occult in the song "Quicksand " I’m closer to the Golden Dawn, Immersed in Crowley’s uniform, of imagery" was too obscure for most people. Punk with its need for speed had very little interest in satanic content. Punk lyrics were about everyday life and rebellion. Hell had already arrived and looked like rubbish piling up on the street, queues for petrol and the dead left un buried. For the young, demons looked like politicians or Prog bands or members of the NF. For ordinary people the demonic looked like John Lydon. People- a very few people - still tried to play Stairway backwards, but only to laugh. Christianity with it's belief in damnation and hell was a minority cult and remained so until Billy Graham arrived in the 1980s.

The 1980s brought satanic panic back out of mothballs and back onto tv and newspaper. Real children were traumatised and probably damaged for life by well meaning social workers and a couple of consultants who diagnosed satanic abuse in almost every child they saw.

The satanic panics of the 1980s were a shameful error made by people who should have known better.

After the 1980s some bands made a concerted effort to appear more satanic than they actually are. Norwegian Black Metal for instance is properly Hammer and Rec. The Christian missionaries, and their history of persecuting people who didn't agree with their particular brand of beliefs would be, if Satan existed, the devil's best recruiting tool.

The Goths were pure Hammer Horror chanelling long dead French poets, and fascinated by death and decay, whilst for some bands, Tool in particular, appearing Satanic was an act of sarcasm.

In the words of Blair MacKenzie Blake Tool have been known to…

…employ genuine occult principles in their artistic output, in both recordings, art design, and with their live performances. However, rather than embracing certain occult clichés to shock the general populace, or to establish a dark mystique, this more esoteric arcana is rendered useful for personal and artistic purposes in an attempt to gain unconventional perspectives on the multiverse.

Danny Carey, Tool's drummer did have a large, modified representation of Dr John Dee's Sigillum Dei Aemeth suspended behind his drum kit on stage during performances (but as it contains the secret names of god and of the angels, it is hardly Satanic).

"Faaip de Oiad" is the last track on the Lateralus, which is Enochian for "The Voice of God". Enochian is the language given to John Dee by the angels, again hardly Satanic. "Faaip de Oiad" is an instrumental track which includes the sound of a ‘defective’ machine, said to be "attuned to a particular ‘wavelength’ of occult significance having to do with the concept of idiotheosis."

Danny Carey's drumheads contained examples of perfect geometric shapes including pentagrams, tesseracts (hyper cube), unicursal hexagrams, heptagrams, enneagrams and interpenetrating variations of each. There is a story that in an attempt to 'charge' the drum kit, Danny had an artifact once belonging to the Knight’s Templar, brought back from the South of France and melted down with his cymbals to be recast as a new kit.

From Voodoo through the Cabala and back to Pythagoras (perfect forms).

This brings me to now.

The Illuminati in pop.

The concept of the Illuminati- lets pretend that they exist ok -and their attempt to brainwash 'youth' using Rhiannon and Eminem doesn't make any kind of sense unless you actually believe in god and advertising.

Granted, advertising does at least exist.

If you believe in god and revelations and in all that oddly nasty modification of Mesopotamian myth called the bible, then you can get your thrills from experiencing the newest addition of music paranoia; cheap thrills are now to be had when you see checkered floors, pyramid eyes and Rain men everywhere; excited to be reassured that you are living in end-times..hastened by pop.

There doesn't that feel good, your boring life has been transformed, something bad may happen- you knew it would - and the faceless enemy now has a name- Illuminati.

Before it was the Illuminati it was your low grades in school, or your sense of injustice, or outrageous bad luck and instead of dealing with it, you just knew that you had stepped into a cosmic game. One in which you mattered....how can this just be a big ball of rock rolling through meaningless space?

There must be more...the Illuminati for instance.

Illuminati spotting, is a new form of satanic panic. People who think exposure to Illuminati symbols increases the effectiveness of the Illuminati believe that advertising works.Advertisers act as if they believe that repetitions of a message increases the effectiveness of the message. They probably know better, and just trade in selling images.

Why do people need to see devils?
Good question!

The concept of the Illuminati combines, like Jimmy Page in one delicious small package, both kinds of magic. The reek and stink of malevolent chaos, and the Golden light of a New Dawn, or rather knowledge...the reality is more Wizard of Oz, cynical self interest, and Derek Crowism: panic sells, eschatology sells.

Ultimately we are back to the Arian heresy, and you know where that got the Cathars..

Well I was kind of interested in satanic panics because they seemed funny.
A bit like the way zombies in films and games are funny...at first.

But then I watched The Devils and remembered that witch hunts have happened, are happening and will happen again..

Oh the Tool lyrics- Die Eire Von Satan- eggs of Satan?

Half a cup of powdered sugar
One quarter teaspoon salt
One knifetip Turkish hash
Half pound of butter
One teaspoon of Vanilla-sugar
Half pound flour
150g ground nuts
A little extra powdered sugar
.......and no eggs
Place in a bowl
Add butter
Add the ground nuts and
Knead the dough

Form eyeball sized pieces from the dough
Roll in the powdered sugar
and say the magic words:
" Sim Sala Bim Bamba Sala Do Saladim"

Place on a baking pan and
bake at 200 degrees for 15 minutes
.......AND NO EGGS

Bake at 200 degrees for 15 minutes
......and no eggs

Films :)

2012-01-25T11:33:00.000Z

Iron Sky could be released soon...
I bought the tee shirt this morning, so that should help pay for somone's sandwich.
http://www.ironsky.net/site/

Then there is the Fall Out 3ness of The Divide, to look forwards to, staring the Rec staircase.

It's been released, but isn't available from LOVEFiLM yet...

And Prometheus, of course.

I'm still sorry that the Halo movie never got made...
District 9- the film Neill Blomkamp made instead was good; but not as emotive. How many people have that shared Halo experience, I wonder?

Computer game as collective memory.

A bad thing.

2012-01-20T10:37:00.000Z

Throwing out files, I came across a folder containing the three political party manifestos of 2010.

Here is the opening statement from the Conservative party.

Britain needs change: few can doubt that. Our national finances are mired in massive debt. Millions are living the misery of unemployment. Communities are shattered by crime and abuse. People in the public services are trapped in a web of rules and regulations. People have lost faith that politics can fix our problems, or that politicians can lead us into a better future. There is a feeling of helplessness. Once again, there is a mood afoot that the decline of Britain is inevitable

Even if people felt that life was that way (and I for one most certainly didn't feel like that) was it true?

By the way, I like the line about..

"Millions are living the misery of unemployment"

...it is all too clear that the manifesto summed up the future in that paragraph, rather than the present of April 2010.

It goes on:

We will use the state to help stimulate social action, helping social enterprises to deliver public services and training new community organisers to help achieve our ambition of every adult citizen being a member of an active neighbourhood group. We will direct funding to those groups that strengthen communities in deprived areas, and we will introduce National Citizen Service, initially for 16 year olds, to help bring our country together.

I have a severe dislike, mistrust (nay) loathing of the concept of The People.

'Active neighbourhood group' means what exactly? Why should I prefer an active neighbourhood group as opposed to an active council?

The council is elected and the council employs people.

Oh sorry, that last statement is incorrect, the council used to employ people....

A central coordinating body is a good idea, it isn't a power hungry monster consuming the energies of the poor and disaffected.

When I did the *bad thing* (have I ever confessed the bad thing? can't remember!) it was because a person who bugged me anyway started a Facebook group as an add-on to the Yahoo group. This would mean two places for information to be posted.

Meaning, in effect, a Venn diagram of information pooling in different locations and only some of it being in both places.

How does that help anyone!

Diversity, and more isn't always a good thing.

So I went into admin', made her the owner of the list and left the group.

When I read her email saying that she had complained to Yahoo about me, was too busy, didn't know how to use Yahoo Groups etc I thought, tough! If you can set up a Facebook group you can do Yahoo.

And if you can't do both....well....now you have learnt a valuable lesson.

~~So anyway, yeah, yeah, lots of private groups~~ "every adult citizen being a member of an active neighbourhood group" ~~having turf wars over who controls the street~~

This whole sorry edifice of power to the people has been distilled from emotive television images and balances precariously on key words, rather than logic.

Bloody exodus myth:

Downton..

2012-01-17T13:44:00.000Z

Abbey: a portal to the past.

Everyone knows that England has big houses and until The National Trust either turned the owners out to fend for them selves- Lords and Ladies living feral in the bushes -or confined to a roped off a small area .. locked in a hidden room at the end of a long corridor.

The masses lived within their reservation, much as the rich lived upon their Capability Brown park land.

Everyone knew his place and there was order in the land.

People wore clothes appropriate to their station in life because it was very important to know who could be trusted to make tea; and there were wars in distant lands which provided wealth for the big houses. Selling guns is business.. Each segment of society worked together in a satisfyingly stratified way, and every man had his own problems to be worked out within the rules of his class...

Must admit I like fantasy, Dan Simmons’s Drood is a perfect pitch of black humour that I love so well, but Downton Abbey was, until a few minutes ago, just one of those things a lot of people watch on tele. The snippets I watched on YouTube put me in mind of, 'Upstairs Downstairs' so Downton is obviously a tried and tested formula, guaranteed to please the people who like that sort of thing.

I wouldn't have bothered to YouTube it, but I read this in an interview about funding for the BFI:

"There has been the thinking in the past that public money should only go into films that can't get any investment anywhere else..."When you actually analyse that it means it should only go into films that nobody could conceivably want to see and there's no logic in that - you want to make a film-friendly, audience-friendly industry."

As told to Sky News by Downton Abbey creator and Conservative peer Julian Fellowes, a member of Lord Smith's review panel due to publish their report into government policy on film funding on Monday.

As everyone now knows, The Germans, Finish, Swedes...everyone in Europe finds this film (shown each New Year Eve) hilarious.

We should make more tv like this and forget those artsy films no one can understand. Which leads on to....gun running, artsy films....and Century 21.

Out of the banal and mundane, into to Teeth of the Sea with images from "Century 21" by Jeremy Blake (2004)

Jeremy Blake made three animations powered by the curious tale of Sarah Winchester, the wife of Mr Winchester---rifle man. When first her baby daughter and then her husband died in 1880, Sarah was a very rich and very sad woman. She went to see a medium who told her that she was haunted by the spirits; everyone who had ever been killed by a Winchester rifle.

The cure, said the medium, was to keep building- night and day -rooms and staircases, windows in floors, doors that open onto sheer drops, to keep building never to stop.

This is the Winchester house- hard to find good films as most Winchester YouTubes are uploaded by annoying American 'Paranormal' investigators.

Alton Towers...

"A silver, poison sky..."

2012-01-13T10:46:00.005Z

Leonard Cohen - Darkness by leonardcohen

Where does the stuff come from?

Mr Daisey goes there... to find out.

A David Sedaris of the Cult of Apple.

LINK.

Oh bright new future...

2012-01-10T12:24:00.001Z

I have always wondered about those fibre optic cables carrying messages at the speed of light.

Nevertheless email is rarely this exciting.

I suppose you can't tell who is going to like what, so not everyone would find this image alarming. Five year olds who haven't got burnt by sparklers would like it.

I'd like it.
My emails should arrive like this.

But basically the man is supposed to be you and me...and we are supposed to have techno-fear waiting to be calmed by the authoritative voice of the expert.

Meanwhile the 'cloud' (such a non threatening word- unlike swarm) must appeal to people who enjoy the illusion of their documents floating as a cloud of information wafting about in the tides of the 'Net, basking under the sun, high above the ocean of liquid blue...

This music is a lot like that:

http://thadanderson.bandcamp.com/album/standard-deviation

The cloud is a lot of servers in a room somewhere.

That endless sussuration is a million million bits per second trying to fry the CPU and the fans endless spin to prevent the melt.

Nothing wrong with a lot of servers; just computers without faces or fingers. Like severed heads.

In the basement.

The music...
Is for a film.

Change of subject.
The last time I went to the doctors it was for a cervical smear. It was as horrible as always- yeah I know I'm meant to say that it's fine, but it isn't! I went because it makes sense. Cancer is one of those slow deaths best to avoid.

Whilst there I was offered a health MOT.

My diabetic daughter has a different view of the health service and tests. They both work for her as she is in need. I feel as if I'm doing the health service a favour when I go as I assume they get 'paid' for routine health screening services.

I look forwards to being forced into a conversation about 'my life style' if I ever go to the doctors again.

Other conversations of the same class contrived to 'help' someone like me:
The Jehovah's Witnesses- bless.
The person at the check-out asking me if I need help with my packing.

Language and interpersonal relationships reduced to a world of bots.

Change of subject.

Restaurant art.
The Bone Feast: LINK.

2012-01-08T21:08:00.000Z

I was stopped at the traffic lights in Stourbridge; by the curious concrete, late 60's? shopping block- the one that has a sculpture that looks like the semi-circular canals of the inner ear.

I was waiting for the lights to change to green whilst gazing into a shop window to my left, at a medium sized painting of purple poppies.

My mind had gone off into a reverie about purple poppies dripping opium tears on the road to Samarkand (beyond Enville) and how lapis lazuli is the starry vault of heaven...and how I'd like more lapis lazuli jewellery...

When suddenly I noticed that the lights had changed and I'd better put the car into gear and move!

Ultimately the painting, though pretty, was something any one of us could have done.

No really.

Pretty yes, but is that art?
Accuracy and precision don't necessarily make art.
I have no idea what does...
make something art....

The image had captured my imagination for a short while.
That's all and at the same time, everything...
I guess.

And then, following lines of ideas and myth across the Internet I read that the CIA sponsored and supported 'Rich kids' to be abstract artists because left-leaning liberals are easier to live with than raging communists, and that The Authoritarian Personality Project of the late 1940s wilfully engineered the Baby Boomer drug/rock/sex counterculture two decades later.

The mechanism for this American led cultural push from European Classicism towards:

"perversity, bestialization, and pessimism"

And the creation of:

"a cultural wasteland of dumbed-down conformity, and pursuit of sensual gratification,{so} that any isolated case of genius could be easily isolated and destroyed."

was called The Congress for Cultural Freedom (CCF).

Apparently the CCF were funded by the CIA and the so the no-art artists got their funding, via the CCF and hence, ultimately from the CIA.

Britain as a satellite state of America, surely not.
So what did happen here?

Common Cause and Industrial Research and Information Services, or so Google tells me...but the links don't make much sense.

Meanwhile, Bertrand Russell and Arthur Koestler were giving the opening speeches of the CCF in Berlin, June 1950. So CND and paranormal research are I guess, offshoots of the CIA as well.

Seriously though, old Bertrand could be quite Bilderberg in his views, and Koestler had a very bad reputation with women.

The most fascinating member- for me -of the anti communist, anti fascists was Theodor Adorno who recommended a steady cultural diet of "Top Forty" pop music and other forms of "mass culture," which, he argued, over time would trigger various forms of mental breakdown on a mass scale.

The stages of mental breakdown would be:

1/ De-personalisation.

2/ Hebephrenia- "the indifference of the sick individual towards the external".

3/ Catatonia- "a similar behaviour is familiar in patients who have been overwhelmed by shock".

4/ Necrophilia- "Universal necrophilia is the last perversity of style."...

Must admit, all of us ex-listeners to John Peel would agree with those statements, and then go back to our computers.

Meanwhile and finally, there are people who believe that a:

"degenerate Wiemar culture of drugs and perversion...helped usher Hitler into power."

So I don't know which way the CIA see it going- if I take it that this whole concept of giving the Lefty liberals sweets and toys to stop them joining the nasty Communists, seriously -I used to see stuff like this all the time on the Internet- people caught up in imaginary games that seemed so real to them.

Do I really think that art and music are degenerate...nope....don't know and don't care.

Purple poppy picture was pretty...
Poppies, Afghanistan and starry lapis
and the opening lines of Enkidu's dream:

"Listen, my friend, to the dream that I had last night. The heavens cried out and the earth replied, and I was standing between them. There appeared a man of dark visage-- his face resembled the Anzu...."
(tablet 7: Epic of Gilgamesh).

InternetZ must have cats.

2012-01-06T15:22:00.002Z

There is nothing that can be said about this film for sure: no one knows why it happened or how it was preserved for you, Dear Reader.

Is it an American thing?
I mean is there something about Americans (keyboard cat) that makes them do this?

And the dire 'child-like simplicity' of the dirge!

Where is the majesty of relgion: the incense, the robes, the blood turning into wine....er...no, the wine turning into blood (not so good- I'd rather drink wine) and the bread into flesh...

Yikes!

Is that the problem?
The omophagia?

Doesn't explain the terrible music though!
Or the hamster.

It gets worse:

Other than finding a pair of 20 hole Dr Martins...

2012-01-03T19:24:00.000Z

I don't really remember anything at all.

Hence the absence of recent blog-posts.

The main surprise about Christmas was (other than how nice it is to do Christmas on Christmas eve) is how big a turkey actually is.

But you know that already!

There are books I'm wading through a book about Socrates by....some one! an historian. Drood (Dan Simmonds) continues with the laudanum drenched charactor of Wilkie Collins becoming more unhinged every episode.

I wonder how fans of Collins feel about Drood?

I located a copy of Oedipus Aegyptiaci by Kircher...but it is only book 3, the one everyone who is interested in Dee and monads etc, wants.

In other words, it is not the book I really want.

I'm not very interested in monads, and I've had enough of Dee for the time being. I'm more interested in Kircher's Egyptian mythology. Kircher believed that he could read hieroglyphics- a few hundred years before the discovery of the Rossetta stone (1799) - and saw that the Egyptians were obviously Pythagorean Platonists (Hermes Trismagistos- of course!) Kircher went on to construct myths reflecting this, creating an imaginarium of myth that influenced Stukeley and Inigo Jones.

Kircher puts the Mithraic 'ladder' into Egyptian.

It was all total rubbish, but it had an effect.

It is impossible to know why people thought what they did without knowing what books they were taking as literally true...

All too often I keep on finding Kircher at the heart of many misapprehensions.

Unfortunately not only do I not have his book on myth (Hereford library- one day) but nor do I know Latin.

I can see myself sitting there with the book translating it using Google and 'Latin for Dummies' following in Kircher's footsteps of mangling fact with my own imagination!

Dee's monad:

"The Sun and the Moon of this Monad desire that the Elements in which the tenth proportion will flower, shall be separated, and this is done by the application of Fire."

Is in Kircher's book:

And the Sigillum Dei Aemeth almost...

I was pretty sure that I'd read somewhere that Kelly had given Dee the image of the Sigillium and so there was some confusion for me at least over whether or not Kircher had come up with the image before Dee.

The Oedipus was published between 1652–1655 and Dee started using the Sigillium in 1582, the 28th of April to be exact...So Kircher got it from Dee?

Count Samuel Liddell MacGregor Mather, of The Golden Dawn spent a long time pouring over this book and mixing it up with Freemasonry....

Even to the point of using the images in it as a fashion guide.

Alister Crowley too...once a more handsome chap than the usual- Great Beast as fat Buddha- images lead one to believe..

Got at least one tarot card out of Kircher:

I do have other books...

But that's more than enough for now about what I'm reading!

Kolotoč / Merry-Go-Round documentation 2011 from sgnlr on Vimeo.

So...what exactly was yesterday?

2011-12-26T19:10:00.002Z

Christmas eve was Christmas: turkey, sprouts, two kinds of gravy (one vegetarian the other not), three kinds of stuffing (sausage, apricot and walnut for the carnivores, sage and onion for the vegetarian and a third kind for the person who is allergic to wheat). It was lots of candles and lots of mead and then it was presents and finally Tom's home made Christmas log that was suitable for vegetarians and the wheat-intolerant, but was so sweet that no one could eat it.

The night ended watching Dumb and Dumber followed by Father Ted.

Today- Boxing day- was day three of the turkey.
A second day of turkey sandwiches, Christmas cake, port and pickles.

No visiting of the In-Laws for us this year, I don't know if I feel bad about that or not?

Instead we were outside almost all of today, burning branches, and cutting back trees and shrubs (which isn't the same thing as pruning- one needs to know what one is doing to call it that!).

We also dug a pit.
I thought that an Aubrey hole would be perfect...for the turkey, and for the detritus of living a garden accumulates: the bits of broken glass, the plate shards and Super-Soaker, there was a shoe, grill pan from a cooker. The hole was dug, the turkey corpse was laid to rest surrounded by glass and other things. The hole filled in and if I ask myself was that not harder than just driving the whole load of stuff to the municipal waste disposal dump? the answer is yes, but not as much fun.

Mostly I thought how inefficient spades and forks are for hole digging and wished that I had an antler pick and an ox scapular.

But back to Sunday...
Christmas had happened the day before.

I drove my daughters to their dad's house- somewhere across the way from the Blue Remembered Hills and up a narrow road where they would do Christmas again.

I then turned around and came home.

So for me, Christmas day was the extra day: the day that has no name, or rules or assignments or meanings.

I liked that very much.

Christmas eve, eve.

2011-12-23T15:23:00.000Z

Stonehenge was a nightmare.
Police and 100's of people.

I kept going, through Devizes and onwards...

Here is sunrise at Avebury yesterday morning.

Avebury solstice winter, 2011. Photo by Dr Kaligari.

Solstice.

2011-12-21T22:11:00.002Z

Seems that the official winter solstice is tomorrow.

Elder son, educated by TV chefs has promised to cook dinner for us and wait around for the Able and Cole delivery, whilst we do the Stonehenge winter solstice social.

Meanwhile...I can confirm- surprise surprise- that shopping in real space is far more expensive than virtual! But excess is a part of Christmas and it makes up for the fact that we don't have a tree.

We would have a tree if we had more space, rather than drum kits, and a forest to get a tree from.

Getting a tree from Wilco's is not particularly in keeping with bringing home the everlasting zoe, life-force; it certainly isn't Green-man.

Too deciduous, a trail of tree-needles all the way back home

There is a vase of Christmas lights in the kitchen though.

Husband went to visit his parents this afternoon. Came back with the photo albums of his childhood: holiday and Christmas snaps.

Apparently the back bedroom is finally empty.

Whoopy doo.

At the house, the council had a hole cut in the floor- tis the new thing now...from the bedroom above the living room. Still absurdly ridiculous, even if mother-in-law could use the platform thing (and she can't for what ever reason!) she isn't allowed to because downstairs is a bit of a mess and has been for three weeks or more.

Let's forget about the steps up to the house that make escape impossible.

The real problem is the power dynamic.

So when I say 'not allowed' to decide when she uses the life, I mean she wont argue her case.

I have absolutely no idea why she doesn't just take to screaming.

I remember getting so angry at what I knew was going to happen (that she would become confined to her room) and in-laws not able to understand at all why I was so upset (their words not mine). I still shudder at the thought of being looked after by someone who cares so much that he has to do all the work, has to be on call 24/7 and therefore has to decide all the rules.

If it were me I'd be trying to find a way to drop help-me messages out of the window, practise attaching sticks or cutlery to my fingers to make them rigid enough to operate buttons- other than the tv remote...and then start screaming until I was sectioned!

Sectioned would mean conversation with other people, insane is better than apparently sane, and somewhere else is a change of scenery!

So what is the moral or at least ethical way to deal with this?

The fact that I was angry and told them what was going to happen makes me feel a little less guilty. But of course I feel guilty...can't see any way around this at all.

2011-12-19T13:26:00.000Z

This Monday before Christmas seems to be melting before my eyes; sky the colour of dirty socks, the colours of the garden dull and muted. The air-tight seal between the double glazing has long since stopped being quite so hermetic; streaks of condensation make the rain and garden look mist streaked and soft focus- that and not wearing my glasses.

Son has his music theory test right now at Drum Tech, in London for a place on their degree course. My phone rests on the table besides me...

Who knows, is it the right thing to do?
A degree I mean.
So much money, or rather so much dept.

I can't say that I noticed the pull to get into dept; having had to walk up and down Harbourne High street, trying to sell the jewellery my mom had given me as a result of my then husbands Access card dept, made it easy for me to ignore loan offers from banks.

Meanwhile my dad was drinking himself to death.

Ex-husband would have to buy at least three of the same thing in a quest to find the perfect one and upgrade any tech as soon as any upgrade became available.

Early adopters beware!
New tech is always expensive and new for a day.

So student loans and all that schizophrenic stuff about how it is fine for young people to leave university owing twenty-seven thousand pounds, but jobs must be cut, efficiency savings made because the country has borrowed too much money..

Oh, message from son.
He has a place...

Weather reports...

2011-12-16T09:00:00.000Z

Weather reports keep saying snow.
It was, that fabled terror from a Zappa song a 'yellow snow' warning- on Wednesday.

Now let me see, the not so far away remembered hills of Romsley were icing sugar white this morning, but descending Mucklow's hill at 8:30 this morning, alas only grey and salt smear, through my cars windscreen.

Not that I want it to snow.
I do not.

Blue sky and bright sunshine as I type this.

x 3 spammage.

2011-12-14T12:11:00.000Z

From now on, my spam has a dedicated blogger site:

http://walksinthe.blogspot.com/

Spam Apple./

Loops.

2011-12-09T09:31:00.001Z

Thomas Taylor.

Other than a fascination for tracing IPs, I'm puzzled why Nigeria is the name appended to the mythical Spam capital of the world.

Spam- the actual location of the email sender- doesn't come from Nigeria very often. I don't think I've ever had even one tiny, tiny, spam from Nigeria.

It is an appropriate name.

Nigeria, (from the Latin) means (more or less..) The Black Country, meaning -no, not nail meking- hidden, occult, shady land of nefarious doers and deeds.

Round here it meant blackened by industrial pollution....

As opposed to the many coloured land, a euphemism for death.
Or Pliocene exile.

The art of separating lands, and places into zones: the hidden lands (Shambala), the bad lands (behind Iron or fire walls) and Arcadia (a Greece that never was) is a great British tradition. As much as I like the idea of joining Mr Sinclair in berating the absurdity of the CGI-'Ghost milk' phenomenon a part of me believes that it is better to love the absurdity, and to mourn what is lost.

Ghost milk is what got Stonehenge built.
It is what draws people down the 303 in their thousands.
Does it matter how true or how false it ever was?

Thomas Taylor (15 May 1758 - 1 November 1835) translated a whole slew of Orphic poems. Latter on people would say:

Reminiscent of the Rig-Veda, the Orphic Hymns contain a rich set of clues about prehistoric European mythology...
(Quote from sacred-texts.com)

It tells us a lot about the British eighteenth century, and absolutely nothing about British prehistory.

Which makes it even more fascinating!

O Ever untam'd Aether, who reign'st on high
In Zeus's dominions ruler of the sky;
The glorious sun with dazzling lustre bright,
And moon and stars from thee derive their light;
All taming pow'r, ætherial shining fire,
Whose vivid blasts the heat of life inspire:
The world's best element, light-bearing power,
With starry radiance shining, splendid flower,
O hear my suppliant pray'r, and may thy frame
Be ever innocent, serene, and tame.

(Roughly) Translated in English by Thomas Taylor.

My birthday.

2011-12-05T10:46:00.001Z

Even as he denigrates civic utopianism, a different kind of dreaminess underwrites Sinclair's own position: a longing for a London that might well never have been. WH Auden once described his ideal landscape as one that contained water-wheels, grain-mills, limestone and obsolete machinery. What would Sinclair's ideal resemble? Railyards and pin-wheel poetry presses, certainly. Dockers and detectives rubbing shoulders in greasy-spoon cafes. Mystics, cranks and quiet pilgrims wandering together down towpaths. Urban planning would be handled by Andrei Tarkovsky, Allen Ginsberg would potter around handing out bennies and yodelling protest songs, the odd authenticating psychopath would occasionally commit discreet murders and, once a century, through would stride Alfred Watkins and Eric Gill, each man clutching his penis before him like a ley-liner's staff as they dowse lines of heat and force.
[LINK]

Today is my birthday.

You know what I'm going to say; like I'm going to tell you about my birthday treat at a spa, how I'm surrounded by loving family and how I feel so blessed and totally at ease with today's reminder that I am 'moving forwards in the queue' to the moment of my inevitable demise.

You know me too well...I'd much rather look in my spam box.

What is in my spam box?

Ah, a birthday message from none other than Goodluck Johnathon.

Now I like the name.
Very gamer.
Not so funny though..electric toaster is better

'You were killed by electric toaster'.
Oh how I laaarfed.

You fragged electric toaster.
No, not so funny.

anyway

Goodluck wants to know if I'm still alive.
Very apt.

Here is his message:
Subject: ARE YOU DEAD OR ALIVE?

These power of attorney is now pending my authorization before the money can be released to Mrs. Veronica Thompson, but I need a personal confirmation of your death before I give the final order.

Open and read attached message for more details.

Here is the full header.

From Goodluck Jonathan Sun Dec 4 19:39:53 2011
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Here is the IP address. Austin, Texas:

Another jolly thing.
A death map...
Just put your post code in, and you get to see where all the road traffic accidents and unlucky pedestrians interacted in a catastrophic way.
[LINK].

Must admit, as I sit here in my very JG Ballardian mood- Gov.UK 'selling' NHS to pharma (or Pharmacy in England: building on strengths - delivering the future) and looking at the Crash map I'm tempted to hit one-click Amazon and buy:

Sinclair fails where Erik Davis succeeds and vice versa. Erik is your man for elucidating the histories and undercurrents that shape what happens in our environment.

Sinclair is your man actually there as it happens.

I prefer Erik Davis's style because I tend to see reality as a shifting of patterns (in other words I have psychological problems relating to East Enders or TV in general) and I like to watch the labyrinthine weaving the thread of continuity makes, as the patterns repeat, vanish and repeat once more. The undercurrents are often weirder and far older than the forces Sinclair describes.

What Sinclair does best is to describe the experience, rather than the story. Sinclair is the observer, the man scribbling down a modern day beastery, writing a new demonocron: he is the namer of the forces; the man standing under the wave as it crashes down, rather than the guy plotting the rise and fall on graph paper and taking leaps of the imagination from point to point; comparing and contrasting and evoking images of other great waves...

Ghost Milk is about "the long march towards a theme park without a theme".

And ghost milk is the cultural ooze grand projects exude.
Ghost milk, he writes, means "CGI smears . . . Real juice from a virtual host. Embalming fluid. A soup of photographic negatives . . . The universal element in which we sink and swim."...

WCA_1.

2011-12-01T14:34:00.001Z

Koumei Satou's mod for Quake 1.

Slater Tangents.

2011-11-23T10:52:00.001Z

My grandad started the business in 1948. His name was Wilfred Slate and his factory made chasers and tangents. The sheds and offices were behind what is now Kwik Save at the top of Mucklow's Hill, Quinton.

When he died (early 1970's) my mom and her sisters took over the running of it.

It seemed a pretty fraught time, banks not lending money and strikes.
Inflation and unemployment.

I used to say, why not just tell the workers the truth of it, give them the figures, show them that there is no profit to pay for wage rises. I was a science student you see, but more than that, I couldn't see why she was taking a parental attitude to the troubles there. Information, it seemed to me was the only sensible way to prove what was actually happening to the company's finances.

I think now I understand that my mom must have felt that the employees owed her loyalty or respect. I hadn't understood before that small factories and businesses were meant to be a kind of large family, with the owner as a father figure (regardless of it being a woman or man) and that the workers were expected to be at the very least polite and at most, downright grateful.

I'd gone to a comprehensive school which tried its best to really be a meritocracy, we were streamed according to our ability to pass tests. It seemed fair to me. I didn't see much use in tradition. It felt as if the past was a bad place we were all trying to escaping from...

In the end my mom just gave up and set about getting the best price possible for the factory. I know that she hadn't wanted to sell the factory but there had been a sense of pay-back, of the employees getting what they deserved for going on strike...I assume new bosses, meant job losses.

Following the trail of devastation via Google- from the original land that once had an old wattle and daub house, a garden and orchard (I think it used to be a farm) with a factory making specialised goods, to a cost cutting supermarket and a token business - nothing now remains of the factory and its offices. Land sold for houses.

A bit further on, down Long Lane, at the corner of Greenhill road, there used to be a small business- not sure what they did- I see that's gone too.

Land sold for houses.

The ideology that comes up with ideas such as there being a lot of 'fat' to be cut from businesses to make them leaner, fitter and more productive had followed on from the 1970's myth that the workers were revolutionaries, intent on anarchy.

Neither view is useful, the fat is made of wages- 'downsizing' is a euphemism for sacking people; means reduce wages, save money.

Convert people to strikers, easier to blame them rather than to see that possibly the revolutionaries were just people objecting to losing yet another industry.

Expanding this process further and I hear the language of financial technocrats demanding that Greece undergoes radical financial surgery.

Metaphors of disease of contagion and amputation.

Significantly, the German word for debt, Schulden, is the plural of Schuld, meaning guilt or fault.

And so it is I get to Hayek.

Hayek seemed to believe in the 'market' as an entity that would regulate itself just so long as there is free, open information.

Information is the life-force of the market.

He had taken Adam Smith's idea of the Invisible Hand and used language from science to portray the economy as a cybernetic system, the ghostly Hand becomes a set of algorithms. This little snippet of his ideas makes it seem that Hayek's theories are responsible for deregulation of banks and the privatisation of schools, hospitals, etc.

1975 The Institute of Economic Affairs arranged a meeting between Hayek and Thatcher in London. And thereafter in Mrs Thatcher's Britain the real heroes were supposed to be the "privateers" who were going to open up the system to allow the market to work efficiently.

If you say that sentence back to yourself slowly- the privateers are going to open up the system to allow the market to work efficiently- you can see that it is blatantly mad, not least because it is pretty obvious that privatisation is not opening up information, it is buying things to make a profit and that there is always going to be a point where the freedom to take and sell anything starts to look a lot like theft.

Hayek's word for economy is catallaxy:

"the order brought about by the mutual adjustment of many individual economies in a market".

The key to making this system work, Hayek said, was to allow information to flow freely around society. Governments should control the flow of information. Information is millions of rational consumers sending abstract signals to each other.

By managing the signals, governments could create "a competitive order".

It sounds plausible, but in reality I suspect that it is impossible to do. Hayek acknowledged that it was impossible to know enough enough to be absolutely correct, and his solution was simply to say that 'efficient exchange and use of resources can be maintained only through the price mechanism in free markets'.

It sounds like religion to me, not science.
An updated incarnation of 'The myth of the machine'.

General observations.

2011-11-22T11:58:00.001Z

When my sons have friends around to stay over night, more often than not they all sleep huddled up like kittens in our living room. Other people, I assume, have more rooms?

When Tom stayed at a mansion in the country...or so it seemed to me- I remember the gates looming in the darkness, the silence of the surrounding area- he slept in the kitchen, so I'm not so sure about rooms or even the meaning of rooms.

What we lack in rooms, we make up for in futons. This house has at least five single futons. I don't really remember how we got to five?

We bought four from a shop that is no longer there...that leaves one.

We seem to have quite a few duvets too. The only ones I remember buying are the ones we sleep under. Things have a mysterious history.
Amnesia is only partially to blame.

We get to give floor space to run-away boys, now and then.

No great charitable feat.
They are friends of my sons who for one reason or another have run-away.

It usually lasts for one night.
Last such ran away because his mom had gone into his room and left a pile of freshly laundered clothes on his bed.

So it goes.

Last week Gavin found a 1980's John Wyndham's The Day of the Triffids in Oxfam. Nice to revisit Wyndham. I remember my mom telling me the plot when I was a child, I was probably reading the book at the time.

She got the story wrong.
Hadn't read it, just seen it.

The filmed version failed to understand that this story is science fiction, not horror.

Wyndham followed on from Wells, if the history of science fiction is a lineage.

H G Wells' War of the Worlds was a statement of paranoia, a reflection of what everyone knows to be true (meaning that it probably isn't): the concept that there are always others jealous of what 'we' have- wanting to take 'our freedome' etc.

John Wyndham is more dystopian. There doesn't have to be an invasion, or even a great intelligence behind catastrophic events.

Random events can add up catastrophically and tip the complexity of civilisation into the bin. The triffids- a genetically modified sunflower breed to produce oil- had an advantage once everyone became blind. Of course, people don't just go blind on mass...normally.

In the book blindness is caused by a random event, the meteor shower. There is no plot or plan, only Darwin.

Day of the Triffids is the mother of all zombie apocalypse films from here on: opening scene (best filmed version is 28 Days Later). Waking up in a hospital bed, blind only because of bandages. The strange silence punctuated by noise that does not make sense. The all pervading atmosphere of wrongness, of life having tipped terribly out of kilter. People committing suicide, people behaving like zombies...and then the army. The army signify a brutish, 'Iron Age' culture of might makes right, of order signified by rules and ordering people at gun point as the only response to chaos.

Anyway, this 2006 version of Random Quest (Parallel universes) seems intriguing.

The original story was written in 1961, I don't remember it, only the title story Consider Her Ways in which a woman accidentally time-travels and finds a female only future.

The story stands as the perfect antidote to the previous generations besottedness with matriarchy, I thought.

Back to 'Patriarchy' and it's ills.
The U2.

It stands as a testimony to my ignorance that I cannot see for the life of me what advantage it gives anyone to be able to skim the edge of space- 'invaluable, strategic, intelligence data for the mission of defense' apparently- but then, I can't hear the dialogue on the film because son is practicing his drums downstairs.

Almost every time I have used Google Earth to navigate, I've got things wrong. I do much better with an A to Z.

I find this inexplicable.

But even if I could hear, I'd still see the U2 as art, not defense.

Nor do I even know what it means to be a part of a culture that can produce such objects as the U2. as far as I can tell, I'm not a part of it at all.

Michelle remembers..

2011-11-21T13:27:00.001Z

There is nothing new, or even rational about austerity. An image arises of drab clothes, long faces, bomb sites (craters and blood spattered, suicide and road-side) the 'detention' centres and the endless queues of folk waiting in the grey street, under the baleful sodium light for the bus heading for the promised land, apparently rich in milk and honey, Ferraro Rocher and Chardonnay.

Location of this promised land- the future.

The White-Heat of Technology- the past- has created leisure time or unemployment depending on how you see it. No one has to slave and toil to get food from the land when there are corporations to join, security and pensions. Education sifts brighter brains from the duller; the thetas and epsilons, from the alphas and betas.

The system should work, but something is wrong.

And now we need austerity.

There is nothing rational about austerity; it is a weird idea, a paradoxical idea that demands faith. It is also an inversion, not least of the truth. It isn't true that less is more. Nor is it necessarily true that less now means more in the future.

The doctrine demands that you agree that 'purity' of form and content is inherently better, more rational than complexity, ambiguity, shade shadow and flavour.

The concept of austerity as ascetism, abstinence, plainness and simplicity as the antidote to the perceived ills of our society is nothing new. Up-tight dictators the world over have found pleasure in proscribing austerity for others.

It looks to me as if today's austerity is an inversion. Anxiety in a community manifests in symbols (is the theory underlying at least one explanation of satanic panics). Governments from Greece to Spain have to cut and prune- destroy jobs and reduce 'security'- in a vainglorious attempt to restore the value of money.

I have no idea if it can work; I don't think that it makes enough sense to work...

But what I see is the desire for austerity feeding from anxiety about global warming -key phrase: an unsustainable way of life. Austerity is the fantasy solution to common social fears about deviance. Austerity becomes the myth of rescue, whilst remaining a strange, inverted image of the problem, but never a solution, inversions can never be the cure.

Meanwhile, greed and 'normality' will be maintained by austerity. As long as austerity is perceived as the antidote to greed, the original problems remain.

Ultimately the solution for global warming is science, radical changes in how things are done, and a focus on austerity is as meaningless as pretending that there is a real value for money.

This process of inversion is mistaken as shadow work. It is assumed that the inversion is a projection rather than what it truly is- a misunderstanding dressed in symbols embedded within the culture, a positive feed-back loop.

On the other hand, for those who believe... austerity will be seen to relieve ailments, heal social ruptures and reduce anxiety. The worrying thing about austerity is that those who believe in its value, see it as a cleansing of the community.

This is far more interesting though; Dan Simmonds talking about Drood.

The way home...

2011-11-20T19:11:00.001Z

This is the sound of my childhood.

Boredom.

The shadow..

2011-11-16T09:48:00.001Z

Is one of several Jungian terms that have made their way into film, song, and literature where it plays the role of the Punch and Judy crocodile- a lurking force forever waiting to drag the sausages or you, down.

Or the shadow is the mysterious other you, the lost sibling, the face in the mirror, or Dwayne Dibbly.

Or Ace Rimmer?

Nice to think that one's shadow is the better version..that if only you could integrate your shadow then you would become whole, powerful, effective.

Contemporary New Age 'mythology' remains resolutely Manichean in its outlook when it describes the shadow as everything in us that we do not wish to see. Though I think that people mean well when they start telling others that no one is perfect, New Age often ends up being the same old repent and be saved, doctrine.

A statement such as:

'when we choose not to take ownership of our own ugliness, selfishness, greediness or laziness, we project these qualities onto others in the form of judgment.'

is a typical translation of the use and function of this archetype.

The function, in this case, is to make you feel bad.

I know it is supposed to make you into a better person by realising that you are as worthless as the next person, or which ever serial killer you can name, but somehow I think it's asking a bit much of people who probably are not that greedy or selfish or even that ugly.

Instead of fasting and prayer, or even sack cloth and ashes time, New Age remains *mind only* assuming that the only thing you can do is to think and understand yourself into a better person.

There seems to be something cruel about this.

It takes from the Methodist 'Method' of keeping diaries and conversations with others about how to be a better servant of god (or good) but it is also without the real work of doing something physical.

Also there is no real way to measure progress.

Fasting for a day or an hour has boundaries, penance is limited.

The logic behind the mind-only penance, rests on a belief in a new original sin- the sin of projection. Only enlightened beings do not project on to others their faults. You are not enlightened. To become enlightened you must act as if you were, so you must take back all the sins of the world and at the very least see yourself as: ugly, selfish, greedy and lazy!

How exactly does feeling bad makes you good?
The trick is to feel good about feeling bad.

I think that the Opus Dei spike or what ever it was (a device warn to cause a niggling discomfort) differs from the mind-only approach in that it is a ritualized behaviour- it has a beginning (putting the thing on) a middle, and an end. Just getting into blaming yourself for anything bad too often becomes believing that no one has the right to blame you...which is odd.

After projection, what's next?

The New Age shadow theory continues:

It is much easier to play the blame and shame game than it is to face our own shadow.

The New Age concept of games came via Hippy-speak from a theory called transactional analysis created by Dr Eric Berne in his book: the book Games People Play.

Games, so runs the New Age theory, are what people do to avoid 'seeing the truth'. This rests on a naive assumption that authenticity is always more valuable than deception, including self-deception.

The value of being 100% authentic 100% of the time is, in my experience, hard to prove...

But, back to Jung the Gnostic, a person for whom knowledge and transcendence (individuation) were prime motivators. Jung dreamt that he saw his own shadow whilst walking in the mountains and realised that it was the perfect metaphor for the stuff in his mind that he could not easily see.

...I had a dream which both frightened and encouraged me. It was night in some unknown place, and I was making slow and painful headway against a mighty wind. Dense fog was flying along everywhere. I had my hands cupped around a tiny light which threatened to go out at any moment... Suddenly I had the feeling that something was coming up behind me. I looked back, and saw a gigantic black figure following me... When I awoke I realized at once that the figure was a "specter of the Brocken," my own shadow on the swirling mists, brought into being by the little light I was carrying

His metaphor is that the light of the mind casts shadows, and the metaphor works because he believed that repressed 'shadow' material is projected in deeds and actions, words and thoughts that seem to come from elsewhere. They seem other, not the self but the dream showed Jung that the specter is cast by the self.

The Brocken Spectre was first described by the theologian and natural scientist Johann Silberschlag in 1780. The Brocken is also the place where on Walpurgisnacht, witches are said to congregate in high numbers'.

The shadow has maintained its semi-occult status ever since.

Both Jungian and the New Age theories agree that there is a process of repression, but they differ over the mechanism.

The New Age theory makes it clear than repression occurs because people are unwilling to face themselves (and the human soul, having been abandoned and left to run wild is a mess 'down there').

Jung didn't describe ignorance of the shadow as a willful choice.

He saw the problem as primarily one of language. Much shadow thought comes from what used to be called the more primitive parts (muscle memory, and the gut) of the brain. Rather than unwillingness, the problem is that the 'civilised' mind doesn't have a language with grammar and syntax to speak to this older kind of thought The shadow tries to be more direct, it tries to speak in action, art and music, dream content are all ways to access the shadow, but shadow-stuff is projected when a person fails to use the right filters (words and concepts, degree of attention to ones own voice).

Shadow is made of the things that have no tags- no words, no images, nothing, nada. It must draw words and images from where you are. From the Jungian point of view, look obliquely and sense it, don't try to grasp. Let is speak...don't expect it to use words, unless they are poetry...

The New Age 'solution' is to look to more 'primitive people to show them the way into the original mind. Or to borrow from Berne (Games People Play) and tell people how to take care of one's inner child.

The purpose of integrating the shadow is wholeness, integration with the psychic twin, gaining access to everything that you are- but are not.

Do I believe it?
Yes, it is important to take account of what ever my feelings are, my hopes and fears. Bringing things into readable thought is sensible.

But at this point I have to tell you that I don't believe in integration or individuation as a kind of 'The Wishing Room' (read Roadside Picnic) a psychic state that opens up all possibilities of getting what I want. Nor do I believe in enlightenment. I fail absolutely as a Gnostic. I don't even believe in 'wholeness' or even 'wellness'- *you is what you is* seems more accurate, than any concept that you should be other.

Or better!

I think Maynard gets it just about right, asking the shadow is the best way to approach it..

The important thing for me is that Jung described something, that now really does have a life of its own. And that I'm happy to see myself as a Сталкер and the shadow as an artifact made up of images and ideas strung together in a certain way in order to induce a certain flavor of experience.

Modern hymns...

2011-11-15T10:10:00.001Z

We were in a cafe. A beautiful place, really nice food. We were alone until parents plus adolescent child arrived.

Their discussion centered on what A Levels this boy should commit himself too for the sake of his future.

The boy appeared to be weighed down by his future self now metaphorically hanging in the balance...in a small cafe on a Saturday afternoon.

And, mid conversation this really is what his father said to him:

Do you think that when Hitler stood before all those people at Munich, he had simply stepped 'ready made' onto the stage? No son, it had taken years of hard work, years of trying...

I found it very hard not to cry, I was finding it so difficult not to laugh.

And then on Friday there was the Rammstein 'video' (I like that archaic term- video- MP4 never made it past the google page: Flash or SWF have become hot Air):

Mein Land (which rhymes with Rhine Land) released on the 11th of the 11th.

That made me laugh too, Rammstein are such trolls.

The Rhine Land was one of those things Hitler did as a consequence of all those people coming to see him in Munich.

Yep, I blame 'the masses'...

Anyway!
Mein Land, followed by more trolling:

I wonder how the Wiemar Republic is imagined today.
Is Wiemar another Arcadia: an imagined land of beauty and perfection tinged with sadness;the melancholic sense of the transience of earthly things.

This invocation portrays it as 'Babylon'

And this one- the one Blogger wont let me post- is just plain hilarious :)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SJvA2JdJZHo

Erra.

2011-11-11T09:44:00.001Z

"Susa, the great holy city, abode of their Gods, seat of their mysteries, I conquered. I entered its palaces, I opened their treasuries where silver and gold, goods and wealth were amassed...the treasures of Sumer, Akkad, and Babylon that the ancient kings of Elam had looted and carried away. I destroyed the ziggurat of Susa. I smashed its shining copper horns. I reduced the temples of Elam to naught; their goods and goddesses I scattered to the winds. The tombs of their ancient and recent kings I devastated, I exposed to the sun, and I carried away their bones toward the land of Ashur. I devastated the provinces of Elam and on their lands I sowed salt."
Ashurbanipal-647 B.C.

I don't think that there is any chance of people forgetting that wars happen; but what is it exactly that we are urged to remember at 11 o'clock this morning?

I suppose it is solidarity with those who have been destroyed: physically or psychologically by war. A two minutes visit' an entering into hell, a Goth fest of pain, and the beauty of it...

When I was at primary school the Vietnam war was 'War of the Day' (cue signature tune for Match of the Day). I was outraged by it. If I was not playing Dr Who with my friends, I tied bunches of grass as prayers for the dead.

I used to buy poppies too, each paper flower felt archaic and tasted of pomegranate.

I liked the idea of the old, old soldiers sending out their blood-symbol least we forget them.

But now they are all dead.

I don't buy poppies any more...I can't bring myself to do it. Superficially I think that 'We' should have more sense than the 'old'.

But the truth is, war isn't because we 'forget'.
War is because 'we' like it.

'We' have never forgotten war.

There are a huge number of clay tablets preserved from Sumer, amongst them the ersemma. These were laments or praises, usually addressed directly to one god written by the priests of the city of Ur. The habit spread and the ersemma became the balag.

The balag is always a lamentation. It was chanted, probably to the accompaniment of a drum beat, as a temple was pulled down, or rebuilt; or to mark ceremonies and festivals. Balags were written to lament the destruction of cities.

The balag was recited as a performance to ease the heart, ostensibly of the deity, but it gave space to the pain shared by all and the words from 'Babylon' echo down to us undiminished by thousands of years:

The heads of its men slain by the axe were not covered with a cloth.

Like a gazelle caught in a trap, their mouths bit the dust.

Men struck down by the spear were not bound with bandages.

As if in the place where their mothers had laboured, they lay in their own blood.

Its men who were finished off by the battle-mace were not bandaged with new cloth.

Although they were not drunk with strong drink, their necks drooped on their shoulders.

He who stood up to the weapon was crushed by the weapon

-- the people groan.

He who ran away from it was overwhelmed by the storm

-- the people groan.

The weak and the strong of Urim perished from hunger.

Mothers and fathers who did not leave their houses were consumed by fire. The little ones lying in their mothers' arms were carried off like fish by the waters. Among the nursemaids with their strong embrace, the embrace was pried open

It will not change...

'She (Inanna) filled the wells of the Land with blood, it was blood that the irrigated orchards of the Land yielded, it was blood that the slave who went to collect firewood drank, it was blood that the slave girl who went out to draw water drew, and it was blood that the black-headed people drank.

No one knew when this would end

Ticks and leaches...

2011-11-10T13:59:00.001Z

I receive no sense of anything when I send a spam email to somewhere it is supposed to receive attention.

It's like catching a nasty parasite as it walks over your carpet and then acting, for me in an unusually thoughtful kind of citizenship way, taking it to the council, prepared to demand that this public health issue be dealt with...only to find- after exhaustive traipsing around from department to department- nothing but an empty room that is supposed to be the right place (no way to tell), no one there, nothing...just a note on the door telling you to post specimens through the cat flap at the bottom of the door.

So what are people supposed to do?
Spamming back is illegal...which is a shame...

It's hard to judge, but how many people know how to find headers (to show where the email has really come from...) and how many people would bother to find a correct address to forward the damn thing to? I get a bit tired of books that are supposed to contain dialogues with spammers.

I'm also very bored with the all spam comes from Nigeria theory.

It just isn't true.

Spam in the physical world is so much more satisfying: tear the message into tiny bits and return to sender.

Bet that's illegal.

I've given up forwarding emails for investigation, better to post them here for the email gathering bots to harvest their sorry email addresses for other spammers.

So, without further ado, one from Sgt Fred Smith who wants me to visit the ever so reputable BBC news site, and another from PayPal who would like my bank account details.

Hello,My name is Sgt Frederick Smith a United States Army and a member of the USARPAC Medical Team that was stationed in Baghdad, Iraq.

I want to share important information about my experience while serving with the U.S 1st Armored here in Iraq that would be of mutual benefit to us. I however cannot reveal all the information now due to the fact that we have not yet agreed to cooperate in this mutually beneficial enterprise. In other words, I am constrained to hold back some information for security reasons for now, until you have find the time to visit the BBC website links below to enable you have an insight into what I intend to share with you, hoping that the information contained there will pique your interest one way or the other, US Soldiers have been evacuated from Iraq in line with Mr. President's directive and I am among the 50,000 US soldiers left behind to train Iraqi soldiers, Please view the bbc news website below;

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/.....

After digesting the information contained in the website I will like a confirmation of that so that we can discuss a matter of high importance and mutual interest. I must confess that I am very uncomfortable sending this message to you as I cannot predict your reaction, you may misconstrue the importance and decide to go public, which will be rather unfortunate.

With the worse in mind, I have to say that the essence of this message is strictly for mutual benefit.I will be more explicit upon a response from you. Please respond with a confirmation that you have visited the website and that you are keen on learning more. I will await your thoughts via my personal email address;
sgtfredericksmith@shqiptar.eu
Thanks for your time,

Best Regards,
Sgt Frederick Smith

From Sgt Frederick Smith Wed Nov 9 13:00:57 2011
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Dear PayPal Customer,
You have added Matthew2011@btxyzt,com as a new email address for your Paypal account.

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From PayPal Wed Nov 9 18:19:47 2011
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The PayPal spam comes from China:
http://whois.domaintools.com/219.234.80.221

And dear Fred Smith is in Latin America:
http://www.lacnic.net/cgi-bin/lacnic/whois?lg=EN

Tuesday morning.

2011-11-08T10:05:00.003Z

The pomodoro is ticking.
First task of the day- groggily reaching out to turn on light and radio don't count- is to make sure that Jack is awake. I'm not sure if he wants me to do this, but I may as well check that he is awake before I go down two flights of stairs to the kitchen.

Next task is to make a mental note of how bad the hall/dinning room is; does it need scrubbing...stream clean...joking.

Then I do the washing.

Most of 'doing the washing' is chemical. I don't use the oubliette version since it became incontinent and caused a damp spot on the ceiling (the washing machine is on the second floor). Clothes soak over night in a Sainsbury's box (remember them?) and then it takes three sink fulls of hot water to get them rinsed sufficiently.

I hang them absolutely soaking wet on the line outside, feeling like a right prune for refusing to flaunt my techno-savvy (I suppose it once could have been seen that way?) usage of 'labour saving' devices.

Haha
fuel bills..

I like watching the water drip out of totally drenched clothes; rather zen. It also gives me a sense of (non zen) accomplishment. But today- a grey, damp, drizzle-day I will have to spin the soggy wash. I left it dripping on the draining board as I go into next task: porridge, and check my emails (read Wired and New Scientist articles) and let my mind wonder away from what ever the point of using the computer was supposed to be.

The pomodoro ticks.
I give myself 25 minuets for this.

Next comes washing up, cleaning floors and tables, dealing with 'stuff' and then on to the the task which is at the moment rag rugs. One of my many diverse thoughts leading out from my firm belief that if I take a job I really am doing someone else out of it and therefore I have to start some kind of business thing myself....is that surely I can make something (not make cup cakes) that could be sold?

Rag rugs can be pretty bad or pretty brilliant; mine are not very good, but I'm working on improving...

Have I given up on my theater idea?
Not sure...
Still thinking...

Latter, for my own amusement it is time to get to grips with that late Bronze Age text, Genesis. I find it trying that I forget which original stories went into Genesis, and exactly how they were changed. The easiest example for me to remember is Eve and the 'death of innocence'. In Genesis leaving 'the garden' is a terrible thing. In the Epic of Gilgamesh when the 'temptress' disillusions the man of his innocence, he becomes civilised: no longer eats grass, wants to have a bath frequently, cuts his hair and loves beer and cooked food!

I like it when myths are subverted to fit a different ideology...

Pomodoro end.

2011-11-07T14:17:00.000Z

On a Thursday afternoon, waiting at Cradley station in the car listening to the thunder roll and how the lightning flashes coincided with Distinct FM blanking out.

Latter at Russells Hall hospital, looking up at the massive clock face, in the atrium of a £160 million building; so like a section of the close by, Merry Hill, shopping mall; chopped off and dropped somewhere behind the main site.

We walked through a long corridor; wards and departments branching out from either side, to X-ray. A journey that felt like a cross between a hotel and a computer game.

Another right turn to 'ultra-sound', then we were lost.

Suffice to say everyone who wondered down the corridor didn't know if they were in the right place either. Now how could that have happened I wonder...

To tell you the truth I like the idea of being a 'secret patient' or rather, secret patient's relative or friend. The way information is given or assumed, fascinates me. I like the unspoken rules too, so when a man due to have an MRI scan was asked if he could possibly have any fragments of metal in his eye he misunderstood the 'class' of question and began to reminisce about all the places he had worked and various near misses; finally he asked "why do you need to know love" to be told that he was going to lie in a strong magnetic field..."So I'd get pulled to the side" was his half serious, half joke question The radiographer answered, "not really..." and continued to try to get him to understand that he would have to go to X-ray to check for metal fragments within his eyes before he could get into the scanner...
http://mrimetaldetector.com/blog/2009/03/mri-and-metal/

Wouldn't it have been easier to have explained this before he got to the MRI scanner and also to have put what happens to bits of metal inside the magnetic field of the scanner, in the opening question?

A few minutes latter a woman was practically chased down a corridor for not wearing shoes, "but you told me to get undressed and put on the gown" she said...Ah the difference between the 'wild, off the street patient' and the institutionalised ones who never answer back.

There were three waiting areas for patients waiting for ultra-sound and no way at all, other than asking staff (I asked two- the first gave me unnecessary and factually incorrect reassurance, the second redirected us to the correct place).

So I sat there thinking how this whole process could be made much easier and probably less stressful...and felt a little sad that I'd never got to play with an MRI scanner.

MRI scanners create massive magnetic fields....I don't want to frighten you but...

Picture from: http://simplyphysics.com/flying_objects.html

working in a hospital gives you a weird sense of humour...

MRI stool removal.

Back to basics...

2011-11-03T10:44:00.000Z

Fault finding is interesting; and superficially it seems such a logical approach to problem solving that it is hard to argue against it.

But the 'diabetes' model of solving problems -identify the missing hormone and replace it- only works for a diabetes kind of problem.

Solutions such as voluntary renunciation and voluntary simplicity as a way to reduce a condition known as 'greed' is a diabetes kind of answer.

Most problems involve many factors, and many *too much of* and *not enough ofs*. Plus a diabeties model of problem solving requires the investigator to understand what normal is, and to do that there must be a lot of normal around to measure.

Works fine with diabetes.

It wont work with todlers screaming because they want to eat all the sweets off the shelf at the check-out. Solving that particular problem is not simply a case of giving the child the sweets- obviously the cause of the tears is not having enough sweets, therfore the cure is...give the sweets.

Or the cure is say no....

But unfortunately yes or no is as good as it gets for when common sense is clouded by ideological stupidity.

The solution is complicated, it must include juggling meanings and money and an idea of what kinds of information a toddler can understand...the solution may not be the sweets...it may be the sweets, but anyway, my point.

Semi-spam:
This quote is from a much longer essay that fell through my in-box today

The path before us requires voluntary renunciation and voluntary simplicity to reduce our burden on the earth. Therefore, the old paradigm that sees accumulation of wealth and immediate material satisfaction as the goal needs to be rejected collectively. We are going to step into a new realization of our purpose -- of the meaning of human life, in itself. We are going to remember, and relearn, what every ancient civilization and traditional culture tells us: that our lives have a spiritual meaning, above all. Existence in this world is an initiatory process to prepare us for the transition to other conditions of being, other worlds or bardo realms beyond this one.

Now I'm always going to be annoyed by this kind of language- the language of 'we' and 'must'. I'm always going to be bothered by the Gnostic deceit that there is somewhere better to get to, a transcendent (spiritual) reality to strive for.

Religion is for the religious.

One thing I know from being a religious person is that the religious should never mistake their version of reality as the only one and expect their solution to life, the universe and everything to be a solution for everyone else's problems!

It is so much easier to preach than to actually do your own practice. And that whole thing of wanting other people to agree in your reality is plain sick.

and and you can't have 'Bardo realms' there are no such locations. A bardo is the space between...What, like the border world of Xen?

Actually bardo worlds are places where mind manifests as pure delusion. So if you are off your trolley, drunk or completely befuddled you could call it a 'bardo'.

Talking of Xen: HL!

What is the Method?

2011-11-01T13:28:00.005Z

I've been asking this question for years in a semi serious sort of way : do the Methodists have a method?

"a Methodist is one that lives according to the method laid down in the Bible".

Which is all well and good, the Ten Commandments are easy enough to understand, but they are hardly a method, there isn't any method in the bible as far as I can see.

The answer is surely to be in the man's diary.

In it I find that John Wesley believed his Christianity to be a return to the original, his was a 'back to basics' agenda.

Sunday, 16.—I preached at Moorfields to about ten thousand, and at Kennington Common to, I believe, nearly twenty thousand, on those words of the calmer Jews to St. Paul, “We desire to hear of thee what thou thinkest: for as concerning this sect, we know that everywhere it is spoken against” [Acts 28:22]. At both places I described the real difference between what is generally called Christianity and the true old Christianity, which, under the new name of Methodism, is now also everywhere spoken against.

I also see that he was keen on electrifying ill people:

Tuesday, November 9.—Having procured an apparatus on purpose, I ordered several persons to be electrified who were ill of various disorders; some of whom found an immediate, some a gradual, cure. From this time I appointed, first some hours in every week and afterward an hour in every day, wherein any that desired it might try the virture of this surprising medicine. Two or three years after, our patients were so numerous that we were obliged to divide them: so part were electrified in Southwark, part at the Foundry, others near St. Paul’s, and the rest near the Seven Dials. The same method we have taken ever since; and to this day, while hundreds, perhaps thousands, have received unspeakable good, I have not known one man, woman, or child, who has received any hurt thereby: so that when I hear any talk of the danger of being electrified (especially if they are medical men who talk so), I cannot but impute it to great want either of sense or honesty.

Nothing about methods, though.I supose I can assume that getting up early and praying was a 'foundation practice' as Wesley recomended starting at 5 AM.

As soon as I set foot in Georgia, I began preaching at five in the morning; and every communicant, that is, every serious person in the town, constantly attended throughout the year: I mean, every morning, winter and summer, unless in the case of sickness. They did so till I left the province.

Perhaps there was a pamphlet that contained the method?

William Stukeley, the first antiquarian (or was that John Aubrey?) was around at the same time. Both men were doing their best to undo what they percieved as centuries of errors and misunderstandings, to reveal the 'true' face of religion. William Stukely, was a Freemason who took to calling himself a Druid. He had evidence to beleive that the Druids had once spoken Hebrew and had been taught the True religion.

A part of that evidence is that Welsh is related to Hebrew.

It isn't.

Anyway, Stukeley interpreted Avebury as a serpent and circle shaped earthwork. People have been reinterpreting it ever since.

The snake and circle idea probebly came to him via Kircher (forever a favorite of mine for asking to be lowered into an erupting vulcano) who in Oedipus Aegyptiacus (1652-1654) wrote about the works of Plato and the Neoplatonists, basically Plotinus and Iamblichus. Because it was Kircher who identified the hieroglyph of the globe, serpent and wings as a form of the divine trinity...why oh why is another kettle of red herrings!

Anyway, back to Wesley and The Method.
Seems that The Method really began in The Oxford Holy Club started by John Wesley and his brother Charles. The bible studied there was the Novum Testamentum Graece, a translation deemed necasary by Erasmus in 1514. The King James bible was printed in 1611, but was, I assume, not complete enough for the Wesley brothers.

Finally I've found it-The Method- from http://christianperfection.com/page3.html
It starts as all the best stories do, with an old manuscript found in a library and a code..

What follows comes from the word doc' downloaded from Christian Perfection. It begins with: in July of 1969 Richard Heitzenrater was looking through an old library in England and there he found a diary written in code that he recognized. The code had been created by John Wesley, and Wesley had taught it to Benjamin Ingham.

But why use code?

The code was used for privacy and efficiency and served as a written conscious.

But you don't need code for that? Code so only other Methodists could read it, is that the reason?

Every hour of the day the Oxford Methodist would update the diary.

Tweets!

The significance of this “Method of Holiness” is the diary served as a tool for self examination, and included blessings, sins, detailed accounts of daily activities, books read, conversations with other Oxford Methodist, means of grace observed, including prayer time, and devotions, including an intensity gauge for many of the entries.
Source: Diary of an Oxford Methodist: Benjamin Ingham,
1733-1734 edited by Richard P. Heitzenrater
Duke Univ. Press 1985

Method 1: is continuous diaries. If John Wesley kept a diary, so should everyone else.

Method 2: is to compare diaries to provide a high degree of accountability.

Method 3: "One on One Discipling" .

The significance of this method of holiness showed both the dedication that Wesley had for each person in his care and the time invested in each and every one so I am told.

Method 4: Temperance

The Holy Club practiced this method of holiness

The Oxford Methodists would practice temperance when eating. A list of ten rules to follow from Wesley’s Oxford Diary IV [viii]: "As to Temperance, I resolve in eating,

1. Taste only of two flesh dishes.

2. Only one slice of each.

3. At each [ meal ], fix your quantity before you taste.

4. If possible help yourself last.

5. When I have port, only port and water.

6. Before you sit at full table, pray for help.

7. In C[company], only a Cheese and Roots.

8. After any excess, abridge the next meal.

9. Only three dishes of tea in the afternoon, never but six.

10. When sugar or cream in afternoon, no bread and butter."

Method 5: Spiritual Pulse Taking:

Daily examination of conscience was a method of holiness practiced by the Oxford Methodist a sample of the questions one would ask oneself;

1. Did I in the morning plan the business of the day?

2. Have I been simple and recollected in everything?

3. Have I been or seem angry?

4. Have I used the ejaculations (prayers) once an hour?

Method 6: Holy Club Small Group

The Oxford Methodist would practice their religion in small groups using Dr. Horneck’s Rules for Religious Societies

The significance of this method of holiness was the spiritual fellowship bond that can only come from small groups and was something practiced by Christians since the first century.

Method 7: Religious Society

The General Rules

Continue to be the general rules today. Designed to "Flee the Wrath to Come" by watching over one another under the direction of a group leader. The group leader reports to his superiors the condition of his group members.

A code of conduct is provided so members can give an account of their obedience.

Method 8: Weekly Home Visits.

The Group leader would visit each member in their home for the purpose of instruction, prayer, Bible reading and to provide the member the opportunity to practice confession, repentance, and accountability. Because of interference from family members, this Method of Holiness was replaced with meeting in groups, with other members of the "Class" society.

Method 9: Group and Individual Society Meeting

The members of a Methodist Class Society would come together with their group leader once a week for worship, prayer, Bible reading, and instruction, then each member would meet with the group leader separately for confession, repentance, and accountability.

Method 10: Accountability with a group leader.

Each member of this method of holiness would give his or her account of that week with a reply from the group leader to each in turn. This was the entry point to Methodism that comes from the General Rules of the Societies. Usually a group of 12 persons, men and women various ages and stages in life.

Prevenient grace was the spiritual level these persons were primarily ministered to, however in later years of Methodism, they were blended with those who had received justifying grace.

John Atkinson in his work "The Class Leader His Work and How To Do It" says the group leader would reply to each group member, but does not say others would reply, so evidently a "no crosstalk format", to use a more modern term, was employed. This would mean that there would not be conversation between group members. Which was a more user friendly way to conduct a group meeting for beginners. This eases the tension that may arise from dreading questions or comments from others (not qualified to ask) that might embarrass.

An example we could easily relate to would be’ prayer circle where each person prays in turn but others do not respond by asking questions of the person who prayed. So with this method each person would offer his or her state of mind and the group leader would reply, because the accountability is being directed through the group leader The significance of this method of holiness is that a spiritually mature Christian appointed by the pastor directed the spiritual development. The Methodist Class Society observed the General Rules.

Method 11: Accountability with a group leader

"a variable format".

Each week the format varies with this accountability with a group leader. The weeks break down as follows:

One evening devoted to prayer and singing exclusively.

"One to an experience meeting with voluntary or solicited with an occasional word of encouragement, reproof, or advice as may seem best adapted, interspersed, of course with appropriate songs."

"Two evenings to Scripture recitations, bearing on some subject previously announced, ..."

Method 12: Accountability with a group leader

"the conversational plan".

The group leader opens the meeting and announces the topic of conversation. Then the group leader gives his or her own experience concerning it, and the asks volunteers to do the same, all the while making all they say come out in the form of natural conversation.

"There was no discussion nothing but experience".

Method 13: Accountability with a group leader

"free talk"

Arose from "Disliking the old method of a brief testimony from each person, and a reply from the leader, ..." [ evidently they though no crosstalk was boring ] avoiding rambling and unprofitable conversation "...the Leader gives out a scripture promise at the close of a meeting for the succeeding one. Something of system of texts, beginning with the Christian life, and then expressing different stages of advancement". Evidently crosstalk was encouraged, members observed the general rules.

Method 14: Accountability with a Group Leader

The Method of Holiness for this class is unknown, but it probably followed closely one of the 3 "older methods" of the class society. It is being listed as a separate method because the class was offered to those who were on a probationary status, and after satisfactory completion they would move onto a regular Methodist Class Society. Some societies had a 3 month probationary period.

Some societies allowed two visits to a Methodist class society to check it out, some societies staggered the visiting meetings to one every other week, to protect the sensitivities of the current members. Evidently the probationary period was sometimes served as a part of a Class Society meeting and sometimes the probationary period was served as a separate meeting from the class. These were ministered to as those with convincing or convicting grace.

Method 15: Group Accountability.

Where the Methodist Class Society was focused to be an entry point to Methodism, the Methodist Band Society was for those who experienced justifying grace, sought sanctification and wanted to maximize James 5:16.

"Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed".

This was a small group that practiced one method of holiness, (The Rules of the Band Societies), without an appointed group leader, crosstalk throughout, divided by sex, age, and marital status usually 4-6 members. This was a closed meeting.

Method 16: Group Accountability

No specific method of holiness.

No group leader.

Members "selected" by John Wesley or another official with senior ranking in the Methodist Societies.

usually a group of 4-6 who observed the "General Rules" and the Directions given to the select society. Practiced accountability for sanctification and for their gifts of the spirit.

Method 17: Accountability with a Group Leader

This group was comprised of persons who were backsliders from either the class or maybe the band societies. The method is unknown. Meetings usually conducted on Saturday evening to separate them from the Class and Band Society meetings usually held on Thursday evening. John Wesley presided over many of these meetings with the no one left behind approach for those who wanted to repent and come back. Practiced accountability for their convicting grace.

Method 18: General Rules for Employing time from John Wesley’s diary:

1. Begin and end every day with God; sleep not immoderately.

2. Be diligent in your calling.

3. Employ all spare hours in religion, as able.

4. All holidays (holy days ).

5. Avoid drunkards and busybodies.

6. Avoid curiosity, and all useless employments and knowledge.

7. Examine yourself every night.

8. Never on any account pass a day without setting aside at least an hour for devotion.

9. Avoid all manner of passion.

Friday, March 26. I found a great many unclean thoughts arise in prayer (or devotion), and discovered these temptations to it:

a. Too much addicting myself to light behavior at all times.

b. Listening too much to idle talk, or reading vain plays or books.

c. Idleness, and lastly want of devotion...from which I perceive it is necessary:

a. To labor for grave and modest carriage;

b. To avoid vain and light company; and

c. To entertain awful apprehensions of the presence of God.

d. To avoid idleness, freedom with women and high seasoned meats;

e. To resist the very beginnings of lust, not by arguing with, but by thinking no more of it or by immediately going into company; lastly

F. To use frequent and fervent prayer.

Method 19: General Rules as to Intention from John Wesley’s diary:

1. In every act reflect on the end.

2. Begin every action in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.

3. Begin every important work with prayer.

4. Do not leave off a duty because you are tempted to do it.

Method 20: A General Rule in All Actions of Life, from John Wesley’s diary

Whenever you are to do an action, consider how God did or would do the like, and do you imitate His example.

Method 21: Accountability According to Grace Received .

To better understand how these methods of holiness worked together, let’s start with where they started.

The entry point to the Methodist Societies was the Methodist Class Society. This was an open meeting and if someone was drawn to Methodism by prevenient grace one would start by visiting a "class". Historically, on average after 2.3 years of meeting in a class society people would experience justifying grace and would desire to move onward.

This next accountability step was the Methodist Band Society. This was a small circle of 4-6 people grouped according to age, marital status, and sex. These groups were designed to draw people close to one another and though accountability and prayer bring healing from the consequences of sin. The design of this meeting was based on James 5:16 "Confess your faults to one another and pray for one another that you may be healed..."

Those who became leaders and would desire to go on to perfection in sanctifying grace might also be "selected" by John Wesley to enter the "Select Society". This was a group that John Wesley would himself attend till at least the age of 85.

Backsliders also had a place. The no one left behind attitude produced a special meeting called the Penitent Society, conducted on Saturday nights, apart from the Class and Band meetings (usually held on Thursday nights).

The question is what to do about this?

The answer is to receive the grace of God while it is available.

Recognized ways to make yourself available to the grace of God or the "means of grace" would include:

1. Prayer

2. Bible reading

3. Communion

4. worship

5. service

6. practice a method of holiness

Having a pure love of God is the basis for Christian perfection which John Wesley taught. Putting faith into practice is the follow through .

-

So if you want to start a new religion...there's the framework or rather it looks very familiar to me, it reminds me a lot of school. I think that the core concept within 'The Method' of each person being responsible for their own and each other's conduct and more specifically the struggle against greed or licentiousness and general 'backsliding' makes the whole bad behavior thing a much more exciting activity.

It explains binge drinking (quick drink as much as you can before they see and stop you!) and a newspaper culture of pointing out the consequences of 'bad behavior'...

I wasn't brought up that way you see, I was simply expected to work stuff out...so I find it fascinating.

Birmingham Peace camp.

2011-10-28T17:30:00.000Z

The navy on one side offering 'Life Without Limits' (which made me laugh...) and on the other, a collection of small tents.

Latter in the afternoon, some young men wearing white tee shirts emblazoned with a big red poppies marched about a bit, then stood still with flags.

Ex-forces motorcyclists stood by the council house watching...

Meanwhile the new library is still work in progress:

Dance of the lobsters...

2011-10-26T20:30:00.000Z

Merry Hill...
Glo-World...

£2 to get in.
The lobsters are free.

Dance of maya.

2011-10-26T14:43:00.000Z

It was the college BTec music performance night.
The venue was The River Rooms, which are actually, very nice inside- usually has tribute bands on stage.

Last years 'do' was at Base studio,

It isn't really fair to compare the venues, but I prefer Base. I don't know how the equipment compares, but the real problem was there not being any emphasis put on testing your amp etc before playing- everyone was expected to come on stage, plug and play.

It didn't always work...

Base is very supportive of new artists; has beautiful recording rooms (no musty mold!) and has recently suffered due to its popularity- they had to start asking for id, age related...and fights...too many too young kids...Friday night there used to be a massive queue of kids trying to get in.

Perhaps the queue is still as long, just the Kidderminster lot stopped going.

Tom had been rehearsing the MahaVishnu track: Dance of Maya for this night. It should include a lot of improvisation, but Jordon (guitar) couldn't hear his amp, or for what ever reason, Jordon didn't leave the straight and narrow path to head into the jazz, so Tom couldn't 'let go' and just play, either.

Ice and heat..HAARP part 2.

2011-10-21T13:45:00.000Z

So...take Dan Simmond's Frozen and make it into a film about oil men.
Looks good.

And back to HAARP.

HAARP?
Muse, why not!

I don't see HAARP as proof of 'us' or the US as 'The Great Satan' but nor do I have any way to know if it is more 'efficient' in terms of global warming to combust Alaskan oil to create electricity to either heat homes directly, or to use it instead to heat up localized areas of the ionosphere.

In the case of HAARP it was obviously better financially for some people just to cook the sky.

Nor is HAARP the only one..
It isn't the only ionospheric heater, I mean.
There are others.

So, are you wondering why anyone should want to spend millions of pounds or dollars or...to play focused beams of microwave energy across the ionosphere? I mean other than its a job, and you have a science degree and need the money..

All righty then, I want to know....

Start at the start, the sun is an ionosphere heater and has been around for a long time. Eventually people discovered that the sun has fits and troughs of activity and that sometimes it throws massive globs of itself up into space and causes intense bursts of light in our atmosphere as a consequence.

The solar wind is sun stuff, a stream of charged particles. When they get through the ionosphere, they hit the stable atoms in the air, temporarily ionize them, creating Birkeland current, and light in the process and are seen as the aurora...

Every so often the sun creates magnetic trouble, CMEs (coronal mass ejections).

CMEs increase the speed of the solar wind. Its more than just more sun stuff, it is actually faster sun stuff..

The solar wind is a plasma, electrons and protons with too much energy to spin together as atoms, basically it is Uber-static electricity (except it isn't static cause its moving). When the plasma from the sun reaches the outer ionosphere it is flattened by, and flattens -to a small extent- the ionosphere, and extends as a tail on the night-side.

In other words, the ionosphere protects us from the sun.

ponderomotive force.

The ionosphere too, is a plasma, this means it is more like liquid metal than anything else I can think of except liquid metal...

I mean the electrons and protons are to excited (sorry- hot) to stay together as atoms, so we have the famous 'electron soup' situation, only this is electron/proton steam.

But magnetism from the earth has an affect on the flow of polarity and order, of lines and bubbles within the ionosphere and creates an effect known as the magnetosphere...

Likewise when the solar plasma interacts with the earth's ionosphere the electrons and protons are attracted to different poles...

Evidence for magnetism affecting 'cathode' rays (streams of electrons) the Crooks tube:

When an CME interacts with the ionosphere it also affects the Earth's magnetic field.

It can be strong enough to change the direction of compass needles and to induce electrical currents. When electrons move in a direction, you get magnetic lines of force.

In other words a CME creates a geomagnetic storm.

The common, every other day kind of solar flare can be detected by measuring the signal strength of a distant low frequency transmitter. It is easier to bounce low frequency radio waves from the ionosphere when a solar flare occurs.

In other words, a solar flare improves low frequency signal strength. So, for all you Radio 4 -cricket and Daily Service- listeners, a big CME and your radio may fry, but as it burns the reception will get better and better.

Now HAARP sends microwave energy to the plasma layer of the atmosphere. It is classified as an ionosphere heater.

I do not have anywhere near enough information to work the next bit out.

But HAARP isn't the only set of antenna doing this.

We have Sura in Russia which became operational in 1981, before HAARP -1993.

And EISCAT is where?

EISCAT is harder to work out http://www.ngdc.noaa.gov/stp/IONO/Dynasonde/biblio.html

It is the European Incoherent Scatter Scientific Association and has facilities at Tromsø, Norway, Sodankylä, Finland and Kiruna, Sweden.

Its heater array is at Ramfjordmoen

There was also one at Islote so I'm told, about 30 km from the Arecibo Observatory, which operated until 1998 when it was destroyed by Hurricane Georges.

So, that's enough for now, just this cooking the sky...it's been going on for a while now. Why did HAARP get singled out for all the attention?

Right side...trigger point 2.

2011-10-20T09:35:00.000Z

So, I squashed my left upper back, shoulder muscles. I found that it takes a long time, ten minutes or so and then suddenly the muscle underneath the squasher, lets go. After it has let go, the pressure from the squasher doesn't feel sharp or uncomfortable anymore.

Then the muscles twitch...and the twitching seems to be a good thing?

I still don't know yet.

The twitching only happens when pressure has been released from the muscle. The muscles may get tight but are easily relaxed by the squasher. The twitching seems to happen only if a tough to relax knot has been undone.

The first stage happens a few seconds after pressure is applied; the muscle often begins to contract even more- not in every case, and then there is referred pain, I get referred pain from my right side down into my wrist.

I'm guessing that the panic sensation is a mixture of the extra cramping in the trigger point muscle and a referred contraction in a muscle within my abdomen....which feels very weird, like panic

I don't know, I've no way to check.

While the squashing happens it is very important for the muscle to be relaxed as possible, so moving the muscle intentionally or actively stretching isn't good.

My conclusion is that squashing works best when repeated every other, or every two days. It is amazing to find the right side of my neck temporarily pain free!

By that I mean the pain actually disappears for about half an hour, but it returns- less than before.

Now for the right, the side with the lava channels.

First episode of squashing the trigger points made nothing happen at all. It confirmed my impression that the right side of my back contains red hot lava. The muscles didn't let go, wouldn't twitch, would only cramp beyond anything the left side muscles are capable of!

(which is why it feels like there is lava in there)

I left it a few days and then squashed again, this time the muscles gave way easily and the lava sensation diminished. But they were reluctant to twitch.

I left it again, then returned.
Same again.

So I'm beginning to believe that the model as shown in the YouTube is pretty much correct and that the squashing thing is a sensible thing to do.

ARG..the death of history, creation of mythology.

2011-10-19T12:46:00.002Z

At least 50% of a child's life and 90% of an adult's is a kind of Alternate Reality Game. You may think that what you are doing is real, but most of the time, if you examine in minutiae the process that is doing what you are doing I think that you will find that most of it is symbolic: by that I mean the importance or value of the outcome is placed on the meaning of what has been done, more so than on the reality.

The reason why I say that an adult has more complex relationship with reality than a child, and has less real in his or her transactions, rests on the nature of learning. It takes time to import and create vast web-worlds of interconnected meanings.

Years...

This explains why it is more satisfying to talk to an adult than a child...

Meanwhile children don't do so well at distinguishing real from symbol and take almost everything to be real. Adults don't do so well either, but they have more layers of connections and meanings.

What like a Flash film compared to a gif?
If you like...

Real corresponds to the basement levels of Maslow's hierarchy, you know, food, warmth, shelter...after those are fixed the symbolic becomes the real game. Meanwhile people often feel uncomfortable with the awareness that not much of what they are doing is real, then they long for reality, for authenticity. But this is a paradox, no one is actually dislocated from the need for food and warmth, rather the real stuff has lost its symbolic value....and it is the symbolic value people long for.

Back to the ARG, one of my favorite locations is that hinter land between the two places- the mud flats of reality and the high rise towers of symbol.

This is where you find ARGs, or don't.

I don't.

I didn't bother to play the virtual reality of Reznor's Year Zero...because I knew that it was an ARG (a CMP cheap marketing ploy, or HGV the Holy Grail of Viral?) and knowledge isn't always power, quite often knowledge is something that prevents immersion, makes me see the lines, fails to enable me to cross over. The Year Zero ARG may have been brilliant, so may Neochron.

Anyway, ARG:

Here we have the updated Borealis. I have the older, Missing Information Borealis somewhere in my other PC, but I'm pretty sure it didn't have the Aperture science logo on it originally...

Because?
Because it is so simple to rewrite the past. The Internet is like an oral culture.

Snap shots, memories... all recordings decay...possibilities flood in to bridge the gap.

A myth is created.

The Boralis belongs to the VALVe universe, but originally it belonged to all of us as The Philadelphia experiment. Apparently a mad guy wrote a mad letter to another guy who wrote books about UFOs and voila! The Marie Celeste transforms into a USof A battleship fitted out with new technology designed to render her invisible.

The state of the art, new Einsteinian technology is switched on and the ship is enveloped in a hazy green glow before blinking out of view.

The ship actually teleports some 300 miles!

Of course this technology and the incident is covered up pretty darn quick because something went very wrong. The ship is fine after its travels, but the men are not.

Hadn't they seen The Fly?
Well no, because The Fly was written in 1957 and the 'Philadelphia experiment' happened in 1943...

Legs and arms protrude from ships metal. The men have reassembled incorrectly, some are chemically bonded to the ship- remember Quake engine games and having to jump when you were on platforms or go no clip because you were stuck in the wall?- well they couldn't jump!

How can you tell a man's wife than her husband is stuck to the ship and can't come home?

The tragic ship is myth. From the Flying Dutchman to the Mary Celeste, the tragic ship is something that we almost believe, can't believe and yet recognise as could be true...it belongs between real and symbolic, meta-real.

My favorite is the Event Horizon a film that spins the story into space, sending the ship-

...the one with the black hole drive- like that's going to be a good idea!

to a hell realm and bringing it back possessed..

Reality Entertainment: make this kind of film, they do it pretty well.

The theme of radar and mind control is a new one for me, perhaps it has a more American flavour, don't think the British have such a strong lineage of brain-wash? The linkage between radar and mind control reoccurs over and over when people write about the evils of HAARP...

Pass the tin hat...HAARP.

2011-10-18T17:44:00.000Z

Does anyone believe, or did anyone ever believe in...the tin hat to prevent microwave mind control beams? I assume, having allowed myself to wonder the illuminati strewn wastes of the 'Net for most of this afternoon that many people do believe in mind control.

Before radar or chem trails it was Satan or one of his demons who took away your free will- making you think and do things that you wouldn't have done. A weak person or an unlucky soul had to be coerced by an external, evil force before he or she would mysteriously do things to further the cause.

The core of the myth is that there are intangible forces that require tangible, flesh and blood human beings to do their work for them.

And this work is?

Armageddon or the new world order or...

Whatever!

Religion was once a metaphorical, mind protecting tin hat.. Now 'science ' has got rid of god. If you think the tin hat works, at least you have faith in something and may be better off than the rest of us. But the tin hat is so unlikely, so visible and I can't believe that I'm taking it seriously!!

OK, let's start at the start.HAARP exists, we all agree on that.

Some of it looks like this.

At the moment HAARP is, I think, owned by Raytheon.

Originally it seems to have been owned as a joint project by ARCO and Bernard J. Eastlund.

Mr Eastlund was:

...a physicist who received his B.S. in physics from MIT and a his Ph.D. in physics from Columbia University. In 1970 he received a Special Achievement Certificate from the U. S. Atomic Energy Commission for co-invention of the "fusion torch."

Well anyway the story goes, ARCO had lots and lots of gas in Alaska and thought that the military were financially just the right kind of people to use it.

Mr Eastlund:

authored three patents (US Patents #4,686,605, #4,712,155, and #5,038,664) that, it is claimed, led to the development of the High Frequency Active Auroral Research Program.

It would be nice to know what they are, but I'm not going to ask...
Oh, OK then:

1/ #4,686,605

A method and apparatus for altering at least one selected region which normally exists above the earth's surface. The region is excited by electron cyclotron resonance heating to thereby increase its charged particle density. In one embodiment, circularly polarized electromagnetic radiation is transmitted upward in a direction substantially parallel to and along a field line which extends through the region of plasma to be altered. The radiation is transmitted at a frequency which excites electron cyclotron resonance to heat and accelerate the charged particles. This increase in energy can cause ionization of neutral particles which are then absorbed as part of the region thereby increasing the charged particle density of the region.

2/ #4,712,155

A method and apparatus altering a region of plasma that lies above the earth's surface at altitudes (e.g. below 50 kilometer) where the collison rate of the electrons in the plasma is originally greater than the cyclotron frequency of the electrons. First, artificial magnetic lines of force are established from the earth's surface by positioning a loop of cable at the earth's surface. An electrical current of sufficient amperage is passed through the cable which inherently generates the artificial magnetic field from the center of the loop. The field strength B on the artificial lines in the region of plasma to be altered is sufficient to increase the cyclotron frequency of the electrons in the plasma so that it will exceed the rate of collosion of the electrons. The plasma is then excited by electron cyclotron resonance heating to thereby further alter the plasma by transmitting circularly polarized electromagnetic radiation upward in a direction substantially parallel to and along the artificial field lines.

3/ #5,038,664

AbstractA method for establishing a region of a high density, high energy plasma at an altitude of at least about 1500 kilometers above the earth's surface. Circularly polarized electromagnetic radiation is transmitted at a first frequency substantially parallel to an earth's magnetic field line to excite electron cyclotron resonance heating in normally occurring plasma at an altitude of at least about 250 kilometers to generate a mirror force which lifts said plasma to said altitude of at least about 1500 kilometers. Heating is continued at a second frequency to expand the plasma to the apex of said field line whereupon at least some of the plasma is trapped and oscillates between mirror points on said lines. The plasma will be contained within adjacent field lines and will drift to form a shell of relativistic particles around a portion of the earth.

You may well ask, why would anyone want to do this...what exactly is a "shell of relativistic particles around a portion of the earth." having noted that just before it drifted into a 'shell' "at least some of the plasma is trapped and oscillates between mirror points on said lines"?

I wouldn't blame you if you started to bable incoherently about Tesla and death rays...

Tesla's Wardenclyffe tower was never completed, but it still gets blamed for Tunguska event...

n 1908, Tesla allegedly sent a cryptic communication to the American explorer, Robert E. Peary, advising him to be on the alert and make notes of any unusual auroral phenomena encountered as he attempted to reach the North Pole. Allegedly Tesla fired up his transmitter for a trial run and attempted to generate and direct his ethereal oscillations toward the North Pole in the hope of stimulating the polar aurora and perhaps attracting world attention to his invention. It is alleged that Tesla's trial run coincided with the Tunguska event in Siberia.

Of course that didn't mean that it didn't happen, I've read plenty of accounts describing the massive power drain on the surrounding towns and cities as Nicola Tesla's tower drew phenomenal amounts of electricity to send a bolt of high frequency energy bouncing off the ionosphere..but it didn't happen.

Wardenclyffe's transmitter itself was to have been powered by a 200 kilowatt Westinghouse alternating current industrial generator. Beneath the tower, a shaft sank 120 feet (36.6 m) into the ground. Sixteen iron pipes were placed one length after another 300 additional feet (94.4 m) in order for the machine, in Tesla's words, "to have a grip on the earth so the whole of this globe can quiver."

Tesla said that he had invented the Teleforce.

I can see how this became the Quake 2 rail gun and why the Half-Life 'Egon' was related to the vacuum cleaner...but I don't see how this 'teleforce' fits in with the death ray beam of energy from the sky idea...

Tesla wrote:

My apparatus projects particles which may be relatively large or of microscopic dimensions, enabling us to convey to a small area at a great distance trillions of times more energy than is possible with rays of any kind. Many thousands of horsepower can thus be transmitted by a stream thinner than a hair, so that nothing can resist. This wonderful feature will make it possible, among other things, to achieve undreamed-of results in television, for there will be almost no limit to the intensity of illumination, the size of the picture, or distance of projection.

Picture and quote both taken from: http://oldschoolheretic.blogspot.com/2011/04/tons-of-tesla-links.html

Thank you Mr Tesla for WiFi :)

Mr Tesla thought that the Peace ray was a good idea, a bit of Mutually Assured Destruction. He also thought bouncing radio waves off the ionosphere was useful- he was right!

Tesla didn't create HAARP, but some of his work probably is included in what HAARP does.

But does HAARP have the definitive, state of the art death ray?

Who knows!

If you are concerned ask yourself why would *they* need one?
Drones and flesh eating bots are bad enough.

Basically what ever your worst computer game nightmare is, someone is working on it in the name of your security.

The most important and salient bit of information concerning HAARP is:
HAARP is owned by Raytheon- (ray of the gods).

Raytheon do missiles, the sort that know where they are going because they have a little map in their heads and a GPS app.

Raytheon do radar, X-band- 7.0 to 11.2 gigahertz.

And Raytheon know about satellites.

The earths natural magnetism affects the information sent to earth by the GPSatelites, therefore it makes sense to study the ionosphere...

But what else, what do I really believe?

I think radio tomography (by bouncing radio waves off the earth from several points at the same time an 'x-ray' image is produced- without using x rays) would be lucrative, fit in with their mining roots, possibly lead to better surveillance (pass the aluminium foil...) and HAARP is the mother of all radio frequency generators.

I also know that by having a sufficient array of microwave emitters you have the equivalent of 'wall-hack' a way to see through buildings

If you really want to know about Raytheon, they say it best here...

Finally, I don't care too much for the whole kit and caboodle of New World Order HAARP crime: chem trails, heating up underground water to create earthquakes, fire whirlpools at sea, plasma balls of mass destruction, let alone the butterfly effect.

Oh, and mind control by using low frequencies to alter the way your mind works...

Most of the things done in my name for my security piss me off already.

Dislocation..

2011-10-18T12:20:00.000Z

I'm listening to the Trauma sound track.
Wondering what creates a sense of alienation or dyslocation.

How often am I, or anyone, in the right place and there at the right time?

At the party, the great party you never attended, or worse the party that could be about to happen, but you don't know where it is- or anyone who is going...

It used to happen on Fridays in O level art; the stories of the party.
Sometimes I'd been there, but had missed it.
The it that had made it it.

Somewhere else, behind a translucent partition in my mind is the image of my in-laws locked in a land called FUBAR. The power-lines feeding their stasis shell are clearly marked, the source of energy easy to locate; just follow the lines back...

There was a slight disturbance in the force when the analogue tv signal was switched off.

The Mesmer tube now singing a fitful, spectral light from the Great Beyond...

Gavin went round and re-tuned.

Trigger points.

2011-10-14T11:54:00.002Z

A long time ago now, when I had acupuncture every two weeks or so, I learned to love the sensation of the needle point tweaking into what felt like tiny coils of energy.

I don't know if it is true or not to associate the coils with 'energy blockages' but if the needle didn't feel weird in some often indefinable way, I didn't think it was in the right place. Once I had needles placed at regular intervals all the way down and parallel to my spine.

It was bliss.

But I have a funny relationship with pain. The Tattoo gun creates bliss too- and is sometimes excruciating, sometimes I can't take any more sensations and once, on my right side almost on my neck it felt as if the needle had tapped into lava.

The term trigger point is used to describe a small area either within a muscle, or a memory that has gone wrong. In the case of a muscle, the area is on red alert and is contracted into a little tight knot, an area of focal hyperirritability because if it is touched with say a needle point, it will buzz as if there is a mild electric current being applied, or cause the whole muscle to twitch...those knots in your back between your shoulder blades are, in theory caused by trigger points.

And trigger points are caused by all manner of things.

Trigger points in memory are, according to me (!) memories created when a person is overwhelmed by fear, terror, psychological pain or in a state of utter coercion. Some part of the mind, the part that tries to de-frag the sets of memories created during the waking experiences, can't de-frag these memories. Trigger points are anything that reactivate the post-traumatic-stress memories...the way the light reflects from a car window in the periphery of your vision, someones attitude, a location...and you are suddenly back in the other place.

In theory they could be over-written?
By re-experiencing and re-fragging with the new information included?
I do not know...

As I have both sets and as I like to play, or is that experiment? I have tried various ways to deal with both kinds of triggers. Acupuncture is a good way to deal with the muscular trigger points, but damned expensive! Nor is it designed to deal with trigger points, it accidently gets them I suppose.

So what about electrical stimulation?

I like the TENs machine, and if you want to make a muscle contract...you need a TENs machine that is powerful enough -the sort that a person like me really should not be allowed to play with. Anyway, this is science so I'm allowed!

The TENs machine set to a lower voltage than is required to contract a muscle will make a trigger point twitch. It is fascinating to see how the mind can affect the twitch, the twitching stops if I think about the twitching...leading me to conclude that my mind has a snap-shot of how my muscles should be, and the snap-shot includes the over-tight, knot point.

By snap-shot I think that my mind reasserts the old muscle settings and that includes the knots and trigger points...so I turn up the power to over ride my mind. Incidentaly this would mean that the word relax is a process, and in effect means refraining from using the old snap-shot...and though it is possible to do that for periods of time, it is impossible to do it indefinitely.

Relaxing therefore, can't undo the problem, simply delay its return.

I over did the TENs stuff and actually made my muscles sore.

Next theory to try out is that squashing the muscle close to the taught band and trigger points makes the muscle physically let go. This is very difficult to do. It requires something hard, but not sharp, something you can push against.

I found that when I push into the right place, it hurts in an excessive way. More than the pressure or anything else would account for.This absolutely means the right place!

After about five minutes of sustained pressure the muscle begins to 'panic' is the only way I can describe it, to constrict and to make me feel claustrophobic. I can taste panic. Then the muscle softens and lets go, physically the shape changes and the the pressure no longer hurts.

After another ten minuets or so the trigger point begins to activate the twitching.I assume that if the trigger point begins to twitch it is having to let go and may eventually forget to tighten up again

It takes a long time to undo the tightness, and afterwords the twitching may happen randomly for a day or so. I found that squashing it again after two days, and the muscle still feels soft and wont twitch.

So I did my left side, as much as I could..I'm waiting for one god almighty electrical fit that makes the muscles tighten up in total cramp. Hasn't happened yet!

So starting on my right- lava filled- side.

Very interesting I'm finding it...
I must admit I think this squashing to stretch is a somewhat brutal way to treat muscles that obviously have tiny zones of gone-wrongness within them, but physically pushing the tightness out is logical.

And then there are the psychological trigger points, but that's another blog...

To read more about muscle trigger points:
http://www.aafp.org/afp/2002/0215/p653.html

Fascinating things.

2011-10-13T13:37:00.000Z

Remnants of textiles found in Armoy and Island Hugh in Ireland show that by the Late Bronze Age weaving was quite advanced. The cloths found were a tabby weave with a sophisticated selvedge and a twill that was softer and thicker with the nap of the fabric treated in such a way as to make it more water resistant. Three fragments of Irish Iron Age cloth have surfaced, two from a burial in Galway and one from Fort Navan (Emain Macha). Two of the fragments are linen tabby weaves, one interesting piece from Galway is a very fine gauze or net made from horsehair woven in tabby.

To add to my list of unknown unknowns, I didn't know that there was such a thing as tabby weave...or, in the case of sugar 'weaving' for the creation of elaborate and decorative constructions, I'd never heard of gum Tragacanth. Nor did I know that when the waltz was new- a German import- it was considered a very rude dance indeed.

One of my big problems is that the only things I've ever been consistent about is reading esoteric literature, trying to make sense of the Bronze Age, and mythologies of the past present and future... and doing my own hair extensions.

So, tabby cat...
No...tabby weave is plain old ordinary

I'd thought that tabby meant stripey brown?

Tabby weave can have patterns woven into it...which makes me feel very ignorant indeed. I have no idea how to do that!

John Aubrey said that the Archbishop of Canterbury was "a great lover of Catts " and "was presented with some Cyprus-catts, i.e. our Tabby-catts".

He then claimed that "I doe well remember that the common English Catt, was white with some blewish piednesse, a gallipot blew. The race or breed of them are now almost lost."

I'm not surprised, I expect they were more complicated than our tabbies.

Father Christmas and the ghost towns.

2011-10-11T13:46:00.000Z

After buying the bank of Heaven ghost money..

[LINK to blog about Yin Low and Yuk Wong]
I found a series of four films showing of a man 'being' a tua ya pek, being possessed by a guardian of the Underworld.

It starts off with Chinese dragon and lion dances...
This is the short version:

[LINK to blog about this film]
Now I understand why, as a child, I'd found Father Christmas so deeply terrifying!

How is a child supposed to react to an 'otherworld' entity?

Surely asking an otherworld being for what you want is not the right way to behave!

I think bowing and offering it things is definitely more sensible!
When people get drunk here some are possessed by peaceful spirits and others, not.

Father Christmases and alcohol...hmm.

At least with Aladdin and his lamp, the Jinn owes him something for letting him out of the lamp...what is Father Christmas after?

Post Reformation Britain, taking a child to see Father Christmas is in effect a ritual celebrating the denigration and rubbishing of any hint of respect a person may have been born with, for the numinous. I assume it was supposed to show me something...

Chinese officialdom likewise portrays ghosts as an irrational left over from an irrational, inefficient past.

But ghosts sell...so for the tourist visiting China there is Fengdu Ghost City.
http://www.tellthetruthtravel.com/Ghost_City.htm

Most of it is now submerged, but you can still visit the temple that was at the top of the mountain via a cable car, rather like The Height's of Abraham. This film shows the drive to the river boat, the temple and then some entertainment...

It is fascinating to know that the ruins people are walking around, as if they are archaic remains of a forgotten past, actually belong in the present- the statues and buildings would still be used and understood, if they were elsewhere.

The first film was made at Pak Nam Temple in Singapore.

I find watching film of a temple turned into a tourist destination a detournement too far. A destruction of knowledge; almost a book-burning.

For the rest of us, there is reality...the world's biggest shopping malls, astonishing new consumer culture...vast and complex and very, very boring.

Symbolic vs. real.

Bronze Age hyper symbolic, when objects are invested with hyper-meanings: clothes portray status so you pay per pixel of virtual meaning...until there is the cataclysmic ~pop~. Then objects become hyper-real; clothing is for warmth, food is for energy...hmmm.

At least 50% of the architecture in this new Mongolian city reminds me of Merry Hill. Remember folks, it is much better to live in bricks than in a tent. Much better to get rid of your gods and buy the right kind of jacket with money.

Don't waste time farming!

Come to the new city, get an education...build buildings, be a better person..blah, blah blah!

Why things don't work.

2011-10-08T16:00:00.002Z

The commodification of a dream..

Selling dreams such as it is possible to get something for nothing.

Accomplished by...

Making a person do a job once done by two people.

I've just gone down stairs to read my meter for British Gas.
I have put someone out of a job.

But in effect I'm absolutly wrong, British Gas have got something for nothing; my work of meter reading for zero cost to themselves. I'm meant to have faith and satisfaction, because I have sent in an accurate meter reading, and beleive that I pay less for energy as a consequence.

I'd rather they just paid someone to read our meters!

In the near future they wish to swap our meters for clever blighters that send e.communication with the great e.meister in the sky

EMP blast weapon,
originally uploaded by James Hutson.

Things don't work, and will increasingly stop working because there are still enough fools who want to believe that the introduction of new technology will save money.

It's a logical dream.

A whole shed load of people and wages replaced by a free data-base.

So now the company has to employ a few people to look after computers and to confound staff in the name of education.

Invisibly, computers need software.. so a company pays thousands of pounds to a layer of faceless slaves for software that could have been got for free, Open Source.

Oh well, people have jobs...I like computers.

It's funny though, people with faith in technology (as opposed to knowledge) do not understand that computers go wrong....in curious ways.

Information is only 1s and 0s.
We are dealing with positions of electrons!

But, back in the real world. There are no bus conductors on buses so no way to get change should you not have exactly the right fare, no one to ask if you need someone to tell you when to get off the bus should you be in an unknown town.

Nor is there anyone to remind bad passengers that they should be good.

Instead there is the ultra moronic tv screen showing passengers the backs of their own heads. Bentham's Panopticon:

"a new mode of obtaining power of mind over mind, in a quantity hitherto without example."

Oyster cards are a good idea and probably enables the police to track terrorists until the EMP blast wave takes out all our ephemera,. but why not just have bus conductors.

The Panopticon bus tv is particularly annoying, I can't tell if it is more or less annoying than the BIG SCREEN or rather the profusion of out door tvs? The increase in numbers of energy saving light bulbs has coincided with big screen outside tvs, energy saving light bulbs have begun their work of polluting the ground with mercury.

Archaeologists of the future will take a leap of faith and say: 'Ah...this explains much. They saved electricity by having dimmer lights so that they had enough energy to power the big screens'.

'We' (but not I) divert the mercury-madness saved electricity into massive tv screens showing grown men playing children's games (football...my hatred of the game grows daily) I assume because 'we' dimly remember that once we could play, once we had friends to run around with and places to run before it became too dangerous to do without the correct foot ware and team colours.

There is a kind of solace in watching other people live our dreams...and getting paid for it.

This makes it easier to let the Mesopotamians off.

Their 'big disaster' was caused by not understanding the way water worked, they impoverished the soil, salt began to seep up into the remaining soil. Soon only barley could grow...

But, back to first world problems- it is a bad idea for restaurant staff to keep on asking customers if they wish to order more- 'you want any side orders?' a few seconds latter-'no side orders?' and a few minuets latter still, 'do you want side orders?'.

Perhaps it wasn't a question.
It didn't sound like a question.

It happened again when I said that I didn't want a desert...so it made me giggle, which is analogous to a dog starting to growl.

So, it costs £3.60p (each) to get to town and back. Wagamama cost £15. This means that it is cheaper for four people to drive to Stourbridge and eat at the French deli, than for two people to use public transport to get to Birmingham.

There is a lot of good things to be said about the French Deli in Stourbridge.
Shame about Wagamama.

But why?
Why did we go to Birmingham...
to go to the Chinese supermarket.

Halloween draws near, we need money for the dead.

Theater Gron Geen-yole.

2011-10-04T14:36:00.000Z

I read through the play Hecube by Euripides, a few weeks ago and couldn't see any way that it could be made into a realistic story...the play is an outrageous situation in which outrageous things happen, I think basically to provide a space for philosophy....continue.

Greek plays come pretty close at times to Theater du Grand Guignol except in a Greek play you never actually see the eye gouging happen..

But right now I'm bored and want to eat chocolate!

Library pictures 2.

2011-10-01T17:48:00.001Z

Why not use more 'library pictures' in news reports on television?

It saves money, it is low risk, and no body will know because only a minority of people play computer games and they never watch tv...

Franklin.

2011-09-29T11:46:00.001Z

The image on the left is of Goldner's cans.

Food sent to the Arctic to feed the Franklin expedition.

Because, two nights ago I finished reading Dan Simmond's book Terror.

I then started to read Drood but some part of me is left on the ice of the Arctic, with its pressure ridges and seracs (never really found out what seracs are) and worse...

The Franklin expedition, like Scott's in the Antarctic, came to a sad end. The British had, and probably still do (or it could now be a total reversal!) a bad habit of thinking that primitive people- anyone not British- cheated, were not playing by the rules somehow, and therefore it would be demeaning to do any kind of research like asking people how they lived and moved on the ice.

Franklin had done the best that he could do, the ship had been well stocked with food...just the ice was too much. It had never occurred to anyone (rich and British) to use light boats and to make sure that fresh food was available- by learning how to hunt...from the people who lived there.

Of course Scott's nemesis, Amundsen had thought to ask the 'natives' and was the man who found what Franklin had died for: the north-west passage.

But he only found it because he had always been fascinated by the story of Franklin...

Tragedy isn't uncontrollable outrageous fate. Tragedy is a program error, a set of beliefs that lead an individual (or a culture) to behave in ways so out of kilter with reality, untimely death will result. It isn't even your fault.

I'd known of the sad tale of Captain Franklin, and his vanishing from a song on the Pentangle album: Cruel Sister.

And then there is the song that I didn't know, The North-West Passage:

But mostly it's Captain Francis Rawdon Moira Crozier I miss most.

I would so very much like his fate to have been the one Dan wrote for him. Likewise Elvis in another redemptive fiction, BubbaHoTep!

I don't think I care too much about the poisoned tinned food theory, though. The terrifying Goldner cans, reputedly filled with unsterilised, cheap and nasty meat. Swarming with microbes and full of arsenic...

Peter Carney thinks otherwise.
And for more Franklin research...go here.

When I was a child, we were brought up to fear corned beef. In biology we were taught of corned beef being full of botulism (the meat washed in polluted South American waters) and about the corned beef typhus epidemic in Scotland.

I should have made my own sandwiches for school, because if I didn't I got corned beef because that is the kind of sandwich my mom always made...with copious mustard as an antidote.

I am lazy.
I ate loads of corned beef.

I've always hated it though!

Nice to see that contaminated corned beef is still alive and well in the world:

“Spetssostavu ATC Karakol, Issyk-Kul region were released about 30 thousand cans of corned beef. The police appealed to the local Sanitary and Epidemiological Center to its experts analyzed the product. All banks were found E. coli, staphylococcus and pathogenic microflora. Now the question is solved about the total destruction of the batch of corned beef, “- said the press service.

Dream Theater.. but I forgot my pen.

2011-09-22T13:20:00.000Z

Drummer-boy came home clutching drum skins, sticks, an order for some protective carrying cases for said drums, and Dream Theater's new album.

That was how he spent the first money he ever earned.

The new album was placed in the CD player as I tried to cook tea.

I found it almost as depressing as Radio 4's The Castle (a comedy so unfunny it actually made me long for the days of Ben Elton)

Dream Theater-I dismiss as a kind of Yes, with extra Rock cliches on the side...

In 1976 a friend lent me a Free album. I tried hard to like that too. It didn't depress me, but it was fairly boring except for one song which began my love of finding the sun and moon in the sky at the same time..

Dr John Dee's scribe Kelly used to write in a similar style.

Talking about angels, Enochian calls, the aethyr and transcendental truth...Rosetta Stoned by Tool takes the theme of modern day angels and rewrites it.

The lyrics to Rosetta Stoned:
Alright then, picture this if you will:
10 to 2 AM, X, Yogi DMT, and a box of Krispy Kremes, in my "need to know" pose, just outside of Area 51.

Contemplating the whole "chosen people" thingy when a flaming stealth banana split the sky like one would hope but never really expect to see in a place like this.

Cutting right angle donuts on a dime and stopping right at my Birkenstocks, and me yelping...
Holy fucking shit!
Then the X-Files being, looking like some kind of blue-green Jackie Chan with Isabella Rossellini lips and breath that reeked of vanilla Chig Champa, did a slow-mo Matrix descent out of the butt end of the banana vessel and hovered above my bug-eyes, my gaping jaw, and my sweaty L. Ron Hubbard upper lip and all I could think was: "I hope Uncle Martin here doesn't notice that I pissed my fuckin' pants."

So light in his way,
Like an apparition,
He had me crying out,
"Fuck me,
It's gotta be,
Deadhead Chemistry,
The blotter got right on top of me,
Got me seein' E-motherfuckin'-T!"

And after calming me down with some orange slices and some fetal spooning, E.T. revealed to me his singular purpose.

He said, "You are the Chosen One, the One who will deliver the message. A message of hope for those who choose to hear it and a warning for those who do not."

Me. The Chosen One?

They chose me!!!

And I didn't even graduate from fuckin' high school.

You better.
You better.
You better.
You better listen.

When he looked right through me
With somniferous almond eyes.
Don't even know what that means
Must remember to write it down.
This is so real.
Like the time he floated away.
See my heart is pounding,
'Cause this shit never happens to me.

Can't breathe, right now!
It was so real.
Like I woke up in Wonderland.
All sort of terrifying.
And I don't wanna be all alone when I tell this story.
And can anyone tell me why
you all sound like Peanut's parents
Will I ever be coming down?
This is so real.
Finally it's my lucky day.
See my heart is racing,
'Cause this shit never happens to me.

Can't breathe, right now!

You believe me, don't you?
Please believe what I just said, see the Dead ain't touring.
And this wasn't all in my head.
See they took me by the hand and invited me right in,
Then they showed me something.
I don't even know where to begin.

STRAPPED DOWN MY BED. FEET COLD AND EYES RED.
I'M OUT MY HEAD. AM I ALIVE, AM I DEAD?
CAN'T REMEMBER WHAT THEY SAID.
GOD DAMN. SHIT THE BED!

(high... I I I I I... high... I I I I I)
(high)
[repeated]

Overwhelmed as one would be, placed in my position.
Such a heavy burden now to be the one.
Born to bear and read to all
The details of our ending.
To write it down for all the world to see.
But I forgot my pen,
Shit the bed again,
Typical.

STRAPPED DOWN MY BED. FEET COLD AND EYES RED.
I'M OUT MY HEAD. AM I ALIVE, AM I DEAD?
SUNKIST AND SUDAFED, GYROSCOPES AND INFRARED.
WON'T HELP, BRAIN DEAD.
CAN'T REMEMBER WHAT THEY SAID.
GOD DAMN SHIT THE BED!

I...!!!

CAN'T REMEMBER WHAT THEY SAID TO ME.
CAN'T REMEMBER WHAT THEY SAID TO ME TO MAKE ME OUT TO BE A HERO!!!
Can't remember what they said.

OH NO, HELP NOW.
Can't remember what they said.

DON'T KNOW.
WON'T KNOW.
[repeated]
GOD DAMN SHIT THE BED!

for some reason...

2011-09-21T14:12:00.001Z

for some reason I didn't beleive Sgt Moore, for some reason I've left the bread to rise, and for another I watch the washing flap in the wind.

A depressing interview with a small child on the radio about summer school, he liked the idea because he could play more football.

'Oh it would be more work than football' said the interviewer.

He liked the idea because then he would be better than other kids. Unfortunatly the interviewer didn't say, better at passing exams you mean.

Spam pots.

2011-09-20T08:30:00.002Z

Dear Friend,
Good day and compliments, i know this letter will definitely come to you as a huge surprise,but I implore you to take the time to go through it carefully as the decision you make will go off a long way to determine my future and continued existence.Please allow me to introduce myself, I am Sgt. Charles Moore, a US Marine, serving in the 3rd Battalion, 25th Marine Regiment which Patrols the Helmand province, Afghanistan.

I am desperately in need of assistance and I have summoned up courage to contact you. I am presently in Afghanistan and I found your contact particulars in an address journal. I am seeking your assistance to evacuate the sum of $14.5M (Fourteen million Five Hundred Thouand United States Dollars) to the States or any safe country, as far as i can be assured that it will be safe in your care until we complete our service here. The money was discovered at companies compound while on routine foot patrol in Helmand Province of Afghanistan. we cant keep this funds here, so we want to move the funds to you to keep it for us in your safe account, you will be entitled to 40% of the total sum as gratification for your assistance. There is no risk involvement of any kind

Contact me immediately via email so that I can furnish you with more details.
Respectfully,
Sgt. Charles Moore.
United States Marine Corps.

Dear Sgt Moore,
No I'm not surprised.

Library Pictures.

2011-09-19T15:02:00.001Z

Friday night at a golf club close to Houseman's Blue Remembered Hills:

It is good to know that most of Tom's drum kit fits in the car...

More Arctic Monkey-

XL

Into my heart an air that kills
  From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
  What spires, what farms are those?
 
That is the land of lost content,
  I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
  And cannot come again.

Sunday.

2011-09-18T17:35:00.002Z

The first draft of Alcestis is here. I see it as a very Gothic play indeed, but translating it to Victorian, and making is Steam Punk fits even better. The story concerns a man, a 'Wild' man who should have died. A deal is struck with death, if he can find someone else to die in his place, he may live. Admetus fully expects one of his aged parents, or a depressed friend perhaps.

No one comes forward therfore it is Alcestis, his wife who agrees to take his place..and the heart of the play, the point of the play is to create an unreal situation to highlight and explore the moral duty of each of the characters in this horrible situation.

I prefer it to be a darker story.

It is a strange play and there is plenty in the original story that would allow one to mess around with reality in a more interesting way than Euripides did. I like the way Euripides expects the audience to accept absolutely the idea that one person could be given a second chance to live if someone else would die for them. To look beyond and to focus on the rights and wrongs of disregarding old people (well that's one element)!

It could be made contemporary by having Alcestis risk a dangerous surgical operation to save her husband's life.. and to die as a tragic consequence. With the final scene questioning the medical professions capability to restore 'life' at any cost (the problem that caused this whole mistake in the first place)...for Alcestis does come back to life, but she isn't herself.

I like to push the Gothic aspect and make Alcestis appear slightly hysterical and Admetus slightly paranoid, as if they are imagining the whole thing and so how could Alcestis die simply by saying that she would die for her husband! Making them out to be an odd couple, anti-social, not in the real world...

Waaaayyy back.

2011-09-15T12:59:00.002Z

Hooray for the wayback machine!

Now I remember who I am.

2011-09-15T12:35:00.001Z

Ever wished that you could have predictive text when you blog?

No?

Nor me...but now Google Scribe

'helps you write more efficiently by suggesting common words and phrases as you type'.

Just like being with someone who finishes your sentences for you.

Oh joy.

But, to the point.

Here am I, fifty-one years old and free from my full time role of home-educator, youngest has started college -started on Monday actually.

Time to go out and get a part time job do I hear you say...as in...don't you need to do something about having only paid National Insurance for four years?

Hmm quite right, but I had this fantasy of resurrecting Greek plays, tweaking them only slightly, repackaging them somehow, creating employment for anyone who wants to join in and finally putting Halesowen on the map (Somers and the Iraq Super Gun fiasco isn't enough).

I have one year to understand the plays and to visualise how to create them, then I will have to go and do a BTec in theater production or something.

Ha ha ha...if they'll have me.

So you think that I'm rich now, because I don't need to go out to work?

Na, I just learnt how to be poor without being wretched.

But anyway, time and being time rich instead is a new one for me...except now I partition time and can't blame anyone else if I don't keep to it.

Thus ends my (one Pomodoro) twenty minutes to write this!

2011-09-14T12:16:00.002Z

This morning I received an email from a friend who had just experienced a

"360 degree feedback course - 14 people have "marked" my leadership skills, plus lots of free text to say what they think, and I have to decide what to do better / differently. Fun eh?"

The Chinese communist party used to do something similar to help party members who seemed to be having difficulties. But what could be wrong with expecting a person to reorient themselves consciously and publicly ~~to the ad hoc fiats of Party rule~~ for the good of society?

No, no I'm not saying it's a bad thing...

Just bloody hell!

The whole nasty thing seems to be a scam, rather like Reiki could be called a scam -except Reiki is nice.

How much harm do you do by selling a method for the laying on of hands compared to selling the 360 feedback system? Anyway and whatever! Someone writes a paper and sells their magical method to the government as a way to improve efficiency in the team. The long words and statistical evidence prove that the new method is better value than the last such.

I suppose it was 360 because of the X Box and people wouldn't quite remember where they had heard of the 360 as being a cool new platform..

Fundamentally it provides jobs for people with humanities degrees to sensitively bully public servants, for money.

But, the place she went for this experience is not on the map...

or on Google.

Well of course it is!

But not obviously so... a white metal, gate and fencing, indistinct and official notices.

From the air, or rather from satellite view, the site is extensive.

It was built during WW2 to take care of hundreds of extra casualties that could have happened, but didn't.

So the question is, what is it used for now?

Books of Providence...

2011-09-06T15:51:00.000Z

I don't read newspapers unless they just happen to be there, preferably on the floor after being removed as wrapping from around something I have bought at a charity shop!

I don't buy them.

I hear Radio 4, I have the web.

In short I could not experience any strong feelings either way concerning the recent 'phone hacking scandles'.

The Murdocks have money because people buy newspapers.

People buy newspapers because they enjoy reading them. If people have insatiable hunger for crap and then get upset because people manufacture crap for them...well...

So why are newspapers full of self-righteous outrage rather than news?

I'm assuming that news to be news has to be new and useful information.

'It's fun to sex it up!' Dancing On Ice star Chloe Madeley vamps up her image with a 'breakover' after split from Sam Attwater

... isn't news.

It is a statement designed to provoke moral judgment.

There is nothing new in that, it has a very long history indeed.

In the Middle Ages such tales were the highlight of church sermons and were known as exempla. These were edifying tales of judgements made upon sinners, and of mercies shown to the pious.

In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries the collecting and accumulations of such tales became a religious duty for everyone, especially those of a Puritan persuasion. Diaries and autobiographies from that time include solemn details of childhood illnesses and preservation from mishap.

Any fortunate coincidence was a 'providence' and any lucky escape a 'deliverance'.

The author would also be on the lookout for notable judgements which had befallen others, especially those who broke the sabbath and those perennial favorites of the tabloids: drunkards and sinners.

In A Divine Tragedy lately acted (1636) Henry Burton provided fifty-six examples of judgements that had overtaken sabbath-breakers in the previous two years. Writers competed with each other in how many lurid details they could include to prove themselves as God's scribe.

Towards the end of Cromwell's Protectorate, in an attempt to utilise the new and increasingly rational methods of the scientists of the Royal Society, the Presbyterian Minister Mathew Poole was head of a team of other ministers (there should be one in each county) charged with the task of gathering relevant information (deliverance's, judgments and Providences). The information was to be sent to Syon College to be analysed by Poole.

And the project never really went away...

It would take a more detailed content analysis than I'm willing to contemplate to work out what constitutes a deliverance/ providence/ judgement in the world of tabloid. Lying celebrities striped of their six figure salaries is a judgement, small children having their faces chewed off by out of control dogs demands judgement but is perhaps an example of a deliverance (the child was saved by...and is now in hospital recovering).

Providences have gone out of fashion?

Whilst dividing the worlds contents into two indisputable categories: those that will give you cancer and those that will cure cancer wasn't a preoccupation of our seventeenth century ancestors.

2011-09-06T13:53:00.000Z

Jack's playing Call of Cuthulu- Dark Corner's of the Earth; a game that combined all the best aspects of Deus Ex, Half-Life and Doom 3. It was genuinely unsettling and excruciatingly frustrating in equal measures. The character in the game had a different stress threshold to me, his fear of heights and aversion to statues of The Great Old Ones, were things I found hard to sympathize with.

I have never had before or since a game character who would shoot himself if the stress became too much, thus making me hyperaware of how my character is feeling; in the game the character rarely expresses his feelings verbally; a lot of his comments are directed to doors -as in, 'this door wont budge!' so much for his Yithian psychic powers.But after a few glimpses of a fried corpse, or Cuthulu statue he starts gibbering incoherently and will, if it goes too far commit suicide.

One of the joys of being Doom guy is his fearlessness, and Id's love of weapons. Thank goodness Mr Freeman had the sense to keep quiet.

I cannot remember how to solve a single problem in that game -which isn't like me, I'm usually able to recall most of any game I've played. But then...I never finished it. I left Jack Walters about to pick up the electric gun, and I assume that as in the film Dagon, Jack will go swim with the fishes in the end. It seemed a kindness to leave him there, on the illusory brink of security, and believing himself to be resolutely human.

The game was never really finished...To quote from one of the developers: sonofamortician-

Actually Dark corners wasn't what bankrupted Headfirst, it was the publisher for the next game going bankrupt and not signing up the game to someone else quickly enough that really did it, FYI...

Four years ago I went to the place where Headfirst had worked, in Sutton Coldfield (just off the M 6 Toll Road). Unit 3 is at the back of the picture.

.
The grand site reminded me of what went wrong for Romero, and Carmack's wise words:

In the information age the barriers just aren't there. The barriers are self-imposed. If you want to develop some grand new thing, you don't need millions of dollars of capitalization. You need enough pizza and Diet Coke to stick in your refrigerator, a cheap PC to work on, and the dedication to go through with it. We slept on floors. We wadded across rivers"
John Carmack.

Lady Princess Sameera.

2011-09-02T15:27:00.003Z

Don't say it's not genuine...

This kind of spam begs for a reply if only because the background story is so medieval. When I watched The Exorcist so many years ago, my main concern was that no one spoke to the demon. I mean wouldn't you talk to it: what's hell like, is it Satan or Lucifer down there, does god ever pay you a visit? Now I'm older I assume that demons would be a lot like game AIs. Basically I can now see why no one in the Exorcist could be bothered.

Meanwhile here we are in Shakespeare's England: Princess Sameera a tragic Prince Hamlet figure.

Or is it more Star Wars?
Sad to think if Luke Skywalker had been a son of mine, he would have been a little more cynical and simply deleted Princess Leia after making sarcastic comments about spammers.

Here's the spam:

From Princess SameeraGreetings dearest one,I am writing this letter in confidence believing that if it is the wish of God for you to help me, God almighty will bless and reward you abundantly and you would never regret.My name is Princess Sameera, A student from Republic of Cote d’Ivoire Abidjan, Female, I want you to also understand that your Age, distance, Religions does not matter to me, kindly permit me to contacting you through this medium, I am compelled to contact you via this medium for obvious reasons which you will understand when we discuss details of my proposition.

My father died earlier some months ago and left me the only daughter behind. He was a royal highness my community town citizen titled him over 16 years before his death, and also economic operator, director (manager) company (society) late Chief Michel Assemien Kassi. After the burial of my father, my father's kindred was threatened to kill me because of the money my father deposited in one of the banks here in our country in my name as the next of kin before his dead which amount is ($5.650, 000.00) Million United State Dollars.Now, I urgently need your humble assistance help me move this money from the Bank to your account in your country and I strongly believe that by the grace of God, you will help me invest this money wisely over there.More so, I will like to disclose much to you if you can help me to relocate in your country because my father's kindred has threatened to assassinate me.

You will also help me to a place were the money will be establish a more profitable business venture in your Country. Moreover, you will also help me by recommending a nice University in your country so that I will complete my studies.It is my intention to offer 15% of the total amount to you if you help me in this transaction and another 10% interest of Annual after Income to you. As soon as I receive your interest in helping me, I will put things into action immediately. In the light of the above, I shall appreciate an urgent message indicating your ability and willingness to handle this transaction sincerely. Please do keep this only to your self. I beg you not to disclose it to anybody until the money transferred into your bank account and then I will come over to your country. I will send you my picture and also give you more details about this transaction as soon as I hear from you. Please you should reply me through my private mailbox below:( ladyprincess.sameera@yahoo.com )Yours sincerely,

Time..

2011-09-01T15:52:00.000Z

... in this case actual.

It actually takes me 14 minutes to pummel and rinse the washing (I do the washing by hand and chemistry, a twelve hour soak means the powder does most of the work) I assume washing by hand saves a lot of electricity as it is Economy 7, rather than day-time, premium rate electricity I'm using to heat the water, plus the washing machine requires electricity for its churning. I require porridge.

I may well be forced to ask myself sometime soon if heating the water by gas would not be a better idea? British Gas like BT are masters of the obscure; trying to sift fact from spin is a hard task indeed, but you never know, I may give it a go.

And then how much water do I usually put in a Sainsbury's box? and how long does it take to heat that amount of water to what ever temperature tap water is? But by using the heating time; I mean by offsetting the time by standing by the cooker as the water heats, to read a book, wouldn't I win?

But it takes 1hr and 3 minutes to bake 10 cup cakes.

I am amazed.

It was the time in the oven that surprised me, they take much longer to cook than I expected.
I really thought that washing took longer, but it explains why cooking cakes is boring (like washing is exciting?!) I remember cooking to be much faster than it really is and so do not have a book with me, tish, tish!

Well I'm not going down the McDonaldization route, I was curious about where time goes and was hit by an urge this morning to try to work out how best to partition, or dole out, or plain waste time because I no longer have to make anyone learn anything anymore.

Last child of my four -the youngest one- has just gone up the road clutching his acceptance letter, GCSE passes and National Insurance number, to register for college.

Meanwhile the quest to turn elder son's hair white continues:
Flash Lightning from Manic Panic looks like the way to go. They also do vegan lipstick. Excellent!

I'm wondering, is there anything good to be said of The McDonaldization of Society -a phenomenon described by George Ritzer arising from 4 primary components:

Efficiency – the optimal method for accomplishing a task. In this context, Ritzer has a very specific meaning of "efficiency". Here, the optimal method equates to the fastest method to get from point A to point B. In the example of McDonald's customers, it is the fastest way to get from being hungry to being full. Efficiency in McDonaldization means that every aspect of the organization is geared toward the minimization of time.

Calculability – objective should be quantifiable (e.g., sales) rather than subjective (e.g., taste). McDonaldization developed the notion that quantity equals quality, and that a large amount of product delivered to the customer in a short amount of time is the same as a high quality product. This allows people to quantify how much they're getting versus how much they’re paying. Organizations want consumers to believe that they are getting a large amount of product for not a lot of money. Workers in these organizations are judged by how fast they are instead of the quality of work they do.

Predictability – standardized and uniform services. "Predictability" means that no matter where a person goes, they will receive the same service and receive the same product every time when interacting with the McDonaldized organization. This also applies to the workers in those organizations. Their tasks are highly repetitive, highly routine, and predictable.

Control – standardized and uniform employees, replacement of human by non-human technologies.

It is true that as a consumer, trying to get a service from people who are not efficient, and in a situation where it is impossible to know how much something will cost is a bit of a pain, but you can always ask! On the other hand, being presented with masses of semi-crap means that I have wasted money.

Working in an environment where everything is highly repetitive, highly routine, and predictable., and machines do all the difficult stuff for you...bleh! Radiography had the iontomat, instead of the radiographer having to guess (yep, it was always a guess - like crossing the road, or catching a ball) the amount of X-rays to to get a good image of your insides, the iontomat (three ionization chambers in the table) calculates the correct amount of radiation automatically.

I used to set exposures using nothing but an educated guess based on what other radiographers told me and my own experience, but with an iontomat I had to guess where, in relation to the patient, the chambers were. If the patient was not lying correctly (in relation to the chambers, rather than in relation to their injury or disability!) the iontomat would select the amount of radiation sufficient to give a good image of a bone, blackening out all the soft tissue detail I was after.

Better to employ people who are not idiots, rather than make everything idiot proof?

But the concept of an idiot-proof machine is so attractive.

The iontomat seems to be a solution for countries where there is no lineage of how to be a radiographer. The iontomat means that almost anyone can take an x-ray image (this probably means doctors and nurses...) so a hospital could save money by getting non-qualified staff to take x-rays of emergency cases, when fractures are suspected...all that blather the doctors get from radiologists about having to have standardised positioning, surely that doesn't matter!

McDonaldization would save the NHS a lot of money.

Fortunately I do not know how McDonaldized the NHS is now, I'm rather glad about that.

2011-08-27T16:06:00.000Z

Due to being given the wrong date by Oxford-home-ed, and a chronic absence in my life of Radio 4, we believed quite erroneously as it turned out, that GCSE results were to be released on Wednesday...

So Thursday was a bit Ground-hog day.

The result of 3 GCSEs taken = 3 GCSE passed.

Argentum Vivum..

2011-08-24T13:55:00.000Z

Living silver or mercury, a cross surmounted by the double snakes heads of Hermes...I didn't go to the silver wedding anniversary.

I like the word undertow
...Never heard this track before:

Undertow, a multiplayer map from Half-Life which no one has filmed properly for YouTube...mostly I find film of people who have just discovered 'bunny hopping'.

Quake players call it strafe jumping because they are grown ups!
Sorry, we have to face facts.

And undertow, the way that the mind is pulled by unreasonable things, hidden in the watery, unconscious layer under the surface of the everyday. Perhaps mercury: living and metallic; heavy and toxic is, in this case anyway the better metaphor.

Well it's difficult to resolve these things; I tried, I failed. My friend wrote back about being sorry that she is 'no good at social' and normally that would be fine. It's fine now actually. But on the subject of marriage and that time in my life, it wasn't fine on any level.

So I didn't go to the party.

3 spam.

2011-08-23T15:30:00.004Z

Spams: I have deleted vary many, bored of the whole lot; badly written, idiotic and simple minded...waste of space.

The memes that enable avaricious, misleading and malevolent behaviour are probably what has guaranteed the existence of human kind so far. But the three spams at the end of this post seemed dumb enough to be recorded.

Speaking of which...

The recent EMA riots, again it isn't easy to see why or what and nor do I care very much!

My narrow view is that hoards of looting teenagers were only doing what the army of Agamemnon did in Troy, doing what mankind has been engaging in for all of recorded history.

The teenagers lacked the only thing that makes the Trojan war or 'The Arab Spring' history; a narrative.

The raw stuff of a narrative is drawn from popular beliefs and in this day and age, pseudo-scientific misconceptions; then woven into a story that feels true. So, for the hoodies cite poverty, disenfranchisement, exclusion, black-culture, tomato sauce or the demise of Blue Peter.

Brain-worms?

Not enough vitamin X?

Ah, how about my favorite, computer games.

The import of foreign memes is a tried and trusted explanation, the Romans were quite fond of that one.

The hooded youth running away with an Armni suit needs a Homer more in print than Simpson or YouTube (electronic media fades into unreadable so easily) and we the upright, law abiding citizens need the Libri Sibyllini to tell us which new festivals and games are required to harness the wayward passions of the populace.

Therefore, my conclusion is -riots are normal human activity and exciting- it is prudent of the state to make sure that riots are very boring...Unfortunately I can't tell you how to do that. To enable the Kettling of rioters would require cities to be fitted with blast doors between streets and result in inevitable crush injuries. Prozac aerosols will soon be default.

I can't help but think how wrong Maggie Thatcher was to stamp out rave culture; it provided just the kind of Prozac / Ecstasy and kettling the police cannot accomplish, and people flocked to it!

I never liked City 17 very much either:

3 Spam:

Please Respond!!Thursday, 18 August, 2011 22:35
From: "Mr. Brian Culbert"
To: undisclosed-recipients

Hello.
I am ill and would die having been diagnosed with cancer disease.

I want to distribute my funds to charities in your country through you.

Please Respond

Respectfully,

Mr. Brian Culbert

RE:FOREIGN CONTRACT/INHERITANCE PAYMENT BUREAU Tuesday, 23 August, 2011 5:09
From: "FOREIGN CONTRACT/INHERITANCE PAYMENT BUREAU"
To: undisclosed-recipients

FEDERAL REPUBLIC OF NIGERIA Special Duties/Logistics Department
FOREIGN CONTRACT/INHERITANCE PAYMENT BUREAU
Spear Heading Nigeria Debt Reconciliation Unit
Grace church Street Victoria Island Lagos-Nigeria.

ATTENTION: SIR/MA,

THIS IS TO NOTIFY YOU THAT YOUR OVER DUE CONTRACT/INHERITANCE AWARD PAYMENT HAS BEEN APPROVED TO BE RELEASED, THROUGH THE FOLLOWING PAYMENT OPTIONS:AUTOMATIC TELLER MACHINE (ATM CARD) TO YOU BY THE SENATE COMMITTEE FOR FOREIGN OVER DUE FUND
TRANSFER.

MEANWHILE A MAN CAME TO MY OFFICE FEW DAYS AGO WITH A LETTER CLAIMING TO BE YOUR TRUE REPRESENTATIVE.

HERE ARE HER INFORMATION:

ACCOUNT NAME:RONALD JOHN BLAIR
BANK NAME: SECURE TRUST BANK
BANK ADDRESS:ONE ARLESTONE WAY,SOLIHULL,BIRMINGHAM,ENGLAND UK,B90 4LH.
ACCOUNT Number: 00044776.
SORT CODE:235451 PLEASE,

DO RECONFIRM TO US AS A MATTER OF URGENCY IF THIS MAN IS FROM YOU SO THAT THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT WILL NOT BE HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR PAYING INTO THE WRONG ACCOUNT NAME.

THE RESERVE BANK GOVERNOR,EXECUTIVE, BOARD OF DIRECTORS AND THE SENATE COMMITTEE FOR FOREIGN OVER DUE CONTRACT/INHERITANCE AWARD PAYMENT HAS BEEN APPROVED AND ACCREDITED A REPUTABLE BANK WITH THE OFFICE OF THE DIRECTOR, INTERNATIONAL
REMITTANCE/FOREIGN OPERATIONS DEPARTMENT CITIBANK OF NIGERIA TO HANDLE AND TRANSFER ALL FOREIGN CONTRACT/INHERITANCE AWARD THIS SECOND QUARTER PAYMENT OF THE YEAR.

HOWEVER WE SHALL PROCEED TO ISSUE ALL PAYMENTS DETAILS TO THE SAID MR.RONALD JOHN BLAIR,IF WE DO NOT HEAR FROM YOU WITHIN THE NEXT SEVEN WORKING DAYS FROM TODAY.

YOU WILL HAVE TO CONTACT ME ON THIS ALTERNATIVE, MEANWHILE PLEASE RE-CONFIRM TO ME IF THIS IS INLINE WITH WHAT YOU HAVE IN YOUR RECORDS AND ALSO RE-CONFIRM TO ME THE DETAILS AS FOLLOWINGS:

1) YOUR FULL NAME:
2) PHONE,FAX NUMBER#:
3) YOUR COUNTRY AND ADDRESS:
4) YOUR OCCUPATION
5) COPY OF INT'L PASSPORT OR DRIVERS LICENSE
6) AGE AND SEX,

MEANWHILE YOU ARE REQUIRED TO COME OVER TO OUR COUNTRY TO PROCURE AND SIGN SOME NECESSARY DOCUMENTS AS THE LEGAL AND RIGHTFUL BENEFICIARY OF THIS FUND BUT IF YOU CANNOT BE ABLE TO COME OVER TO PROCURE AND SIGN THE NECESSARY DOCUMENTS
BARR.DONALD J.KAUFMAN FROM UNITED KINGDOM WHO WAS SENT HERE IN NIGERIA BY THE UNITED NATION SECRETARY GENERAL MR.BAN KI-MOON FOR FOREIGN AFFAIR WILL REPRESENT YOU IN PROCURING AND SIGNING THE DOCUMENTS ON YOUR BEHALF AND YOU WILL PAY HIM FOR
PROCUREMENT AND ATTORNEY.

YOU CAN CONTACT HIM VIA EMAIL(donaldjkaufman@lawyer.com).
THANKS BEST REGARDS,

MR.DAVID S. WILLIAMS
FOREIGN CONTRACT/INHERITANCE PAYMENT
BUREAU FEDERAL REPUBLIC OF NIGERIA

Transfer Amount Valued: £3, 000, 000.00 Friday, 19 August, 2011 8:56
From: "Mr. Gidon Peterson"
To: undisclosed-recipients
Ref.: Final Payment Release Update. Transfer Amount Valued: GBP3, 000, 000.00.
In Favor of You

Sir,

We write to inform you that the embargo placed on your payment file which caused all the delays you experience in the past year has been removed.

We therefore write to you based on the payment instruction we received on your behave from our apex bank to credit your account with your contract/inheritance fund.

Finally, to enable us transfer this money to your account you advice to reconfirm the below information to us immediately. Within 72 banking hours your money will be in your account.

Your Personal details
Full Name:
Full Address:
Telephone Number:
Fax Number: Mobile Number:

Your account details
Bank name:
Bank address
Account number:
Account name
Swift code or sort code

Please contact the undersigned for further directives.

Yours truly,

For and On Behalf of
Barclays Bank Plc,

Mr. Gidon Peterson
Private Banking Dept. Ext 5
Barclays Bank Plc.

Barclays Bank Plc.
Barclays Bank Plc. Authorized and regulated by the Financial Services Authority.
Registered in London, England. Registered No. 1026167. Hammersmith Branch, 75 King Street, London W6 9HY, UK. Tel: +44 (792) 452 2183 Fax: +44 (207) 0603 411

2011-08-21T18:48:00.001Z

There are complex theories about time; linear, circular time or no time at all.

I am anachronistically blessed.

This means that I am not *up to date* with so many subjects.

Meaning that I was amazed to open my last package from Amazon and find out that the CD case has integral glasses to enable all the art work inside the CD package to be viewed in 3D.

Tool: 10,000 Days.
2006.

Everyone else knew about that five years ago, didn't they. I'm possibly the only person to buy 10,000 days and not know!

Definitely a plus.

We went to Stonehenge; after Anglesey.
The morning of my last blog entry.

I wanted to find out what they sold in the gift shop; distant memories of English Heritage and National Trust gift shops...I could have looked at the web site, but instead I filmed in there.

"The superb shop for unusual gifts souvenirs of your visit to Stonehenge."

I noticed bluestone jewelry in a display cabinet, and some pretty silver icons for pendants including what looked like crop circles, but what confuses me is that bluestone may be the best the British could get as a lapis lazuli substitute..but it ain't blue.

It is like the sky over Wessex: grey and full of that rarest of rare, daylight stars.

Stonehenge bluestones are not the colour of the jewelry stones. Think I'm going to have to go back to Preseli and find some bluestone myself. Perhaps when it is freshly cut it is evening blue? Perhaps it takes a few years, a few centuries or a few thousand years to become Stonehenge/Wessex grey?

I didn't find any Stonehenge rock -minty, pink and white sugar sticks with letters running all the way through- does that mean that the shop was not tacky?

Can't tell.

There were models of Stonehenge, fridge magnets and tee shirts...

Mostly though, there were queues.

Everywhere.

The flow of traffic onto the car park was unceasing. I simply could not believe how many people visit Stonehenge. The queue to pay and enter the amazing subway (decorated with Cotton clad overlords, making beardy men haul stones as if with us, up the incline) was very big.

The National Trust card dissolved all before us, we took the shortcut and passed by.

The subway incline leads people up and then widdershins around the stones. The atmosphere was exceedingly jolly. I had not experienced the ordinary Stonehenge visit before; last time I was there it was after closing time and we were inside the rings. Stonehenge does odd things to sound and without the clouds of visitors it reverts to, Aubrey Burl's description, Stonehenge as a 'ghost cage'.

We sat at the edge of the field and opened up our Waitrose feast: slices of beef (Cattle were food for the dead, consumed close to burials, pork was for the living), a grand mange blanc (obese French stick) and plump, luscious olives; utterly delicious. We watched the rivers of people meandering towards and around the stones; people sitting, eating, meditating, photographing...and a couple of English Heritage staff blowing bubbles.

I take it all back.
Stonehenge used as it is right now is a completely different place to the Stonehenge I know. It is as if there has been a compromise found between the force of the midsummer party people, and the conservators. The party has been tamed, it exists during the day in this new, moderated version and odd to see it it this way, but Stonehenge is empowered by this new way of using it.

And then back home via Avebury and then what ever pub it is we always go to on Marlborough high street.

4:33 am.

2011-08-17T04:37:00.001Z

We could go to Stonehenge today; I'm in two minds about it.

If we go, the point is to record what the on-site shop sells...no really...and to watch how people react to the whole thing (car park, miserable passageway, the stones...).

It is quite difficult to step over the 'upper-world' protocols and to react as one really feels in response to a place. For me that would involve eating pork spare-ribs at the edge of the henge as the sun goes down. It is a midwinter place. I would start by drinking copious quantities of beer and getting maudlin enough to cry over my ancestors and then the pork spare ribs -from a Chinese takeaway- by a fire (still outside the henge) finally burning the bones and scattering the ash around the stones, tipping more alcohol on the ground as I went.

Stonehenge is particularly difficult, I find myself wishing that some religious group or other would take it over and demand that we the visitors treat the place as if it was sacred.

I feel the same way about cathedrals.

I can't be bothered about authenticity, I mean the Druids exist now, but who ever or what ever the druids were in Roman/Iron Age Britain is not what they are today. The Christians do not do themselves any favours by broadcasting prayers (and asking for quiet) over a tannoy system. De-sacralising a place by allowing people to treat 'your' sacred site as if it was a large item deposited in a museum (one you can walk inside of and around...) isn't as vital (full of life) as showing someone the correct way to be within that space.

Bloody Reformation!

The only sacred areas within cathedrals are side chapels (but I have never seen anyone using them) and the place where one may light a candle and offer a prayer.

But I do find myself wondering what the gift shop sells at Stonehenge and why?

On Monday we went to Bryn Celli Ddu:

I was confined by 'upper-world' protocols, but on the other hand I didn't know what to expect. This visit was, to some extent a descansos for me -but I don't let on, upper world rules you see. The whole alignment thing that I'm kind of caught up in, is at its most pompous with Stukeley and his concept that the Druids were proto-Christians.

The theory that Welsh was closely related to Hebrew and that Neolithic/Bronze Age places were attempts at recreating the Temple of Solomon were taken very seriously in the late seventeenth century. Inigo Jones applied Vitruvian rules to Stonehenge to further the story that once upon a time Britons were up there with the Ancient Egyptians.

The Sumerians hadn't been invented then.

When the Cunningtons were busy digging up Woodhenge and The Sanctuary (late nineteenth and early twentieth century) it was becoming clear that the Proto-Christian or otherwise, ancient Britons were not into fantastical King Tutankhamen death-cults. The Anglo-Saxon's went in for elaborate grave goods; but of our ancient ancestors...just beakers and cattle bones were found with the dead.

People still love the idea of an underlying structure though, of Pythagoras and Golden numbers, Fibonacci series etc. My conclusion is simple, that the North East was once a significant alignment for the people who originally used, converted and then forgot all about henges, passage graves and standing stones.

And that rules elucidated by Pythagoras or Fibonacci are only significant when they are used!
The lost souls wondering around stones looking for an experience...honestly, you are better off listening to music. I get the feeling that the person who made this video -philriehl- has more of a grasp on the original meaning of Stonehenge than William Stukeley or any of the many bewildered wondering around Stonehenge today.

Time for Lateralis again

Sunrise today.

2011-08-15T20:14:00.000Z

Bleach.

2011-08-09T16:57:00.000Z

This is the second packet of bleach I have put on my son's hair; he is going from black to white all in the name of Green Day. Or rather, in the name of being the drummer in a Green Day cover band.

It is remarkably easy to dye hair any colour, black but exceptionally difficult to go from black to white. Bloody terrorists abusing hydrogen peroxide! But a quick search on the subject tells me: mix mayo with a lemonade packet and it will bleach your hair..and what was that YouTube ages ago about pouring Coke onto pork to make thousands of little worms come out?

Meanwhile an email sits in my Gmail account, from a friend I used to go to Cradley Heath speedway with, asking me if I'm going to The Silver Wedding. I can't answer it. I feel bad about The Silver Wedding which ever way I look at it.

The reply I received from my friend after I'd written explaining to some extent my problem with marriage (companionate marriage, other kinds pass muster) and more about how I'd felt let down during my Dark Age (of slipping out of *normal* and down behind the cushions on the settee) was kind and normal and apologetic. She is happy, busy, in the middle of the maelstrom that is family and has no time to think about her own stuff.

Perhaps that is my new definition of normal: meaning -no time to think...no mirror, no reflection.

Mappa Mundi.

2011-08-04T16:28:00.000Z

Twenty five years ago the Hereford Mappa Mundi was on a dark wall, in a dark corner of Hereford cathedral; I was there to see what people had believed the whole of the world to look like around the time of the crusades.

Twenty five years ago I was at home, looking after my one year old daughter; I was easy prey for the Jehovah's witnesses as I had plenty of time to appear gullible enough for conversion. As the Jehovah's witnesses, or rather the single Witness whose case I had become, kept on insisting that World War one and Spanish flu were a symptom of 'END TIMES' it occurred to me that the crusades and the black death had been rather spectacular too, some may say even worse than the world wars of recent history? Either way, I wanted to know if the whole, known world had been at war before.

So anyway, twenty-five years ago the Mappa Mundi was just on a wall, and not overly popular.

Now it is in a porch, between the dreaded audio-visual, computer touch-screen re-interpretation and the library of chained books. This means that you have to pay; or at least I got the impression that you had to pay? We paid! but the admission charge is there primarily, I believe because computer screens, new buildings and re-interpretations don't come cheap.

A Henry III copy of the Magna Carta "the foundation of the freedom of the individual against the arbitrary authority of the despot" is there too, in that same porch.

Beyond the porch is the library of chained books. The first few display cases on one's left are bibles. The chained books were in rows to my left. I think if I had my way, all libraries would be like that!

It was very frustrating to see, as I read the shelf index, that in row 11-14 there was a copy of Oedipus Aegyptiacus by Athanasius Kircher and not to be able to get it down to look through. Kircher has suffered from trial by Internet and been found a fool (famous for the cat piano) but he was influential in the seventeenth century.

I don't know what I think of his Egyptian mythology, it is clearly very different to other versions, except I have not been able to find anything more than a few fragments. Kircher somehow managed to use Coptic to translate the hieroglyphs, but not accurately! that was left to Jean-François Champollion (1822).

Unfortunately Kircher's book is a work of fantasy. Nevertheless, it is the Egyptian mythology used by Inigo Jones and William Stukeley, or anyone creating anything pseudo-Egyptian in the seventeenth century.

Oddly enough in Kircher's Oedipus Aegyptiacus there seems to be a picture of the Sigillum Aemeth, all very puzzling!

But I for one will count him as a hero for daring to be lowered into Vesuvius to see the inner workings of the world and for saying that the tower of Babel was impossible because it would have caused the world to tip over!

Profit the world and lose a soul...

2011-07-28T19:41:00.000Z

Right now the kids are foraging; a seventeen year old drummer, and a sixteen year old art student. I hear the sound of the fridge door being opened and closed, and discussions taking place.

Drummer-boy has complained, on his way from the kitchen to the stairs that lead to his room as he walks past me in the bathroom, that all he can find is cheese and biscuits. I get the feeling that he thinks one of us, the parents, should be cooking something. Well, my beautiful husband and I, we were gallivanting around town and eating pizza too short a time ago for me to be sympathetic...

This is good.

It is very important to know how to feed yourself. Kids have to go through the hunter-gatherer stage, before getting to Man the Hunter, and finally accepting Tesco food deliveries.

The other child has just asked me if he can use the chocolate?
I asked him if they had found things to eat?
Answer: sausage sandwich...

And I remembered writing out the recipe for profiteroles. Profiteroles are good! I should go downstairs and make some.

But first; after my last post about being abandoned...well, I got a reply. I'm still thinking about it.

Time to try to make the profiteroles.

Not writing.

2011-07-25T11:23:00.002Z

Not writing; should be one word.

Not-writing has the same anatomy as boredom, but unlike boredom not-writing has failed to earn a unique classification; it lacks a name but it gains many paragraphs about how to deal with it. It gets called writer's block.

But there should be a single name, a dedicated word.

Boredom is a miasma of stagnation, heaviness, ill-defined dys-ease. Not-writing presents with the same set of feelings. Boredom is not doing what I want to do and not letting myself know what I do want to do. In other words, boredom is an error, a loss of connection with myself. Tasks are boring when I cannot think of a good reason to do them, or think of anything better to do instead.

Unpleasant is when something is downright against my will, but unpleasant isn't boring, or preferable!

Writing can only happen if there is a connection to an inner voice, to ones self...

But, this is writing.
So what is it I don't want to say?

Perhaps there is just so much I can't see where to begin?

OK, I see a way in; this one almost makes me laugh. I was derailed somewhat by the feelings the invitation to the Silver Wedding evoked in me. At first I thought it was just good old cynicism, I mean do I really think that staying together for twenty-five years is a good thing?

To be honest I have no idea what I really think.

I do know that I was really hurt when my friend didn't act as my friend and I am pretty convinced that it is sensible to act as if everything is well (especially when it isn't) if you want people to smile at you. But I am also convinced that life is short, and I never had much respect for going along with things that don't feel right to me.

As life is short I wrote out why I feel betrayed. I pushed into words why I had felt let down. I posted the letter.

This raises an interesting question: what is a person supposed to do if they feel as if they have been accidentally betrayed? I don't for one second believe that she meant to make me feel worse..

Keeping silent is the safe option. Writing means entering into memory of the unhappy events surrounding the time of the betrayal. As always I don't believe it will help me, but I took a vow many years ago to 'reality' what ever it is (!) and am cursed with a kind of dedication to speaking the truth.

The middle class meme of maintaining one's own version of peace and tranquility as the bombs are falling is a kind of insanity. It is an error, derived from the fact that anxiety makes people bad at problem solving, so refusing to be flooded by emotion makes sense, but only if you then turn around and take the incoming information (in this metaphor the bomb!) seriously.

When things are wrong, when people are hurt, action is required. But generally the meme dictates an attitude of, it is better to wait for the expert to step in!

When things can be made right by some acknowledgment of what has happened, some attempt to shrink the demons and to find the truth, are experts really required for that!

I guess that one of the most shocking aspects of my words is that the things that actually happened to me were worse than I let on at the time. So my letter sounds as if I am making it all up. I got that feeling from the councillor at the time, so there is something about me that means I am not believed.

But another explanation is worse than that...I mean the explanation for the lack of any reply or reaction.

The result of posting it has been silence probably because she is a grown up and I'm not.
Here is the letter with names changed.

Dear Jane,
I’m sorry that I’m not coming to your wedding anniversary, it feels horribly wrong but this August has turned out to be a busy month and an expensive one. Life with John made me hyper-sensitive about using a credit card.

But underneath all this money stuff, I have to admit, I have too many sore and hurt feelings. I am unable to test the validity of any memory; I’m just left with the feelings. Over riding them is quite possible, but wont help anyone or anything.

Around the time of me leaving John you asked me if there was anything that you could do to help. I asked you to support John for my daughter's sake (in my own narrative of all events I have to be the strong one regardless of how much I’m in pain).

My feelings are totally illogical, but because you were a good friend and did what you could a part of me felt betrayed; I felt that your kindness to him cost us our friendship.

At that time no one really got why I did what I did. I was supposed to be ‘the victim’ because the woman always is seen that way, supposed to get a solicitor, supposed to fight. I did none of those things. At the time I chose to have my back ‘against the wall’. When John left us (I stocked the freezer, prepared for the siege so to speak) and then he came back...The worst event was the evening I was forced to get into the car, to keep talking, to do anything I could to prevent him carrying out his threat to kill himself and my daughters. That awful night is etched into my memory. I give myself points for keeping my head, for my acting ability, but it left a wound that cannot heal.

It was impossible for me to live with him, if I had tried to keep my daughters with me he gave me reason to think that he would kill himself and possibly them. I made the best of it, but it cost me dear, I still get sort of flash backs.

I wasn’t on my own side then, I was also willing to let anyone think anything of me, I didn’t defend myself (not even with the councillor who made things so much worse for me!), it wasn’t a part of my plan to cast blame on others. It seemed the best thing to do was to keep right on -not look down and never look back.

But no one understood or asked me why, nor did I score any sympathy points for being strong.

During the grim time of the marriage break down I have this recollection of me insisting to make a labyrinth on a beach, in the rain somewhere, you and your husband, John and our children just watching, no one helping. My reason for doing this and insisting on finishing it could be seen as my selfishness, or for what it was, a way to get myself back; to reconstruct someone who had given too much away.

At that time I felt as if I’d lost everything; I hadn't expected marriage to be such a miserable experience. One of the reasons why I couldn't live with John anymore was my father’s death, or rather John's insistence that I wait for him to be able to ring his sister, ring work and to come with me regardless of how I felt (my mom had just rung from the hospital to say that my dad was dying) .l.

John's insistence that I stop work had been my real downfall -three years of study and a good job as a result just given away because I wanted to make him feel that I loved him!

I was plain dumb. But I didn’t want to hurt anyone; it is simpler just to let the hurt come to me.

Ultimately there was no way back once I decided to ‘unmarry’ myself from him. He was impossible for me to live with. Shame, he really is a kind man and very clever, but honestly!

My alternative life was to return to the place I should have been. Too many years of reading books about the occult and a need to study the esoteric meant that a Tibetan Buddhist center was exactly the right place for me; I learnt ritual and how to make ‘butter sculptures’ from a man who had been the ritual master at Palpung monastery before he had to walk out of Tibet. At that time I loved Ian absolutely and really could not believe that he would put his ‘career’ before his son...but what did he know...all he had as a map on how to perceive women and life, babies... was the stuff he’d learnt from the feminists (he’d been a born-again feminist at university) none of which was particularly useful on the subject of parenthood.

But thank you for the bed on my way to Samye Ling (that one night when Ian was about to be sealed into retreat and I couldn’t let this happen without giving him one more chance to see that ‘we’ (me and my pregnant belly) needed him). I was again trying to hold things so still, to prevent the fall into the abyss of pain.

If I seemed OK, or distant or disconnected, it is because cutting off pain means, in my experience, means cutting off almost every other feeling too.

In the end I left the Buddhist center with a man I didn’t really know, but it seemed to me that the gods would smile on me, and I certainly had the strength and ability to deal with it -what ever *it* happened to be. You wrote to me to warn me that I seemed to be repeating John ...only Jane, I don’t think that there are many men like John!

Now for my part obviously I think that my life is riveting and would make a cracking novel (only no one would believe it) . I also think that my opinions are unusual and that I deserve to be listened to. In short I’m either the same as everyone else, or I’m a massively egotistical bore.

To be honest I have no idea which way it is!

But another factor in why I’m not coming to your wedding anniversary is that it hurt me that you didn’t reply to my letters (possibly only two over the last seventeen years, but nevertheless it mattered to me) and that it was your mom who invited me to the art thing in Birmingham (not you) and when I started to talk to you, you walked away.

I am hyper sensitive about dept, I’m hyper about people treating me as if I’m nothing. Kind of a heavy way to see it, but fundamentally I have a dent in my psyche there. My bloody sister was vile to me when I told her that I was pregnant, which means that she treated me as if I was an idiot (rather than non-existent) but again there was no apprehension of the situation I was in or sympathy. I put up with John belittling me for too long, and then Ian's immunity to human feelings.

So, what am I saying?
I’m saying that or friendship is in a bad way. I’m saying that I don’t want to feel as if I don’t matter to you. I’m also aware that probably most of this is my warped perception and that I have probably let you down more times than I think that you have let me down.

And that’s it really.

2011-07-21T12:39:00.002Z

It has taken three days, but I have now a head covered in braids; the kind you buy from Afrocare and plait, sow and glue into your own hair...only I hadn't got much, so that's why it took me so long. Where there is a will, there is a way.

It came to this because after cracking up at Oxford service station -a long story, but trying to drive through central London played a major part- the hairless-ness of me, got to me. To do the shaved head thing, either one has to be in a particularly confrontational frame of mind, or be a Buddhist nun. I was neither after facing London. The Alopecia society is quite right, people do have strong and inexplicit theories about hair!

Me especially.

London was bad. I'm qualified to say that; I'm not sure which is worse though -London or Birmingham? In London there is a more video game feel to the experience, which I quite enjoy, but the impossibility of navigation was what got to me. Also I felt that I'd let my son down by not getting to the coach drop off point in time to meet him. He had spent the night cycling 112 miles, seventeen years old still doesn't seem very old to me. His sister took care of him, and he was treated like a hero in St John's (the restaurant) so it was fine...just me feeling bad.

you know, I don't have a clue about who Kenneth Anger is or was..

So, who did the music for Lucifer Rising?
Did Page write some of it and then Bobby Beausoleil played it, or is Bobby Goodsun another name for Mr Morningstar?

If you ask me, those tartan trousers were a big mistake!
Page at Boleskine:

Image...

2011-07-19T10:13:00.004Z

Images are deceptive; steganography:

The art and science of writing hidden messages in such a way that no one, apart from the sender and intended recipient, suspects the existence of the message

Johannes Trithemius had a method of hiding messages within a book or three that seemed to be all about communicating with angels (this was 1499). And your telling me that John Dee wasn't doing the same thing in his work with John Kelley?

Well no, I don't suppose that you are, but more people prefer John Dee as magician, than mathematician. I am not sure what I think...yet.

It is impossible to know exactly what was going on with that black mirror and John Dee's improbable journey from the court of Queen Elizabeth to the alchemical labs of Bohemia.

Though I'm perfectly willing to believe that John Dee was a genuine seeker after occult knowledge, I suspect a deeper game underneath.

One thing John Dee understood was, the public likes a show; to be entertained by impossible things; visions and deceptions, blinding flashes of light with outrageously loud bangs. Such was his addition In 1546, while at university to the staging of Aristophanes's play Peace.

Aristophanes annoys me, because his plays are like Star Stories (which I loved!) or
Armando Iannucci on a bad day.

The plot of Peace runs thus:

Trygaeus, getting no help from anyone in his wish to go to heaven decides to see Zeus and argue the case for heaven for all! To do this he feeds a dung beetle until it grows to an enormous size; Trygaeus rides the dung beetle to heaven.

Eventually he reaches Olympus, but the gods are all gone except of course for one -the god of War, who is busy pounding up the Greek States in a huge mortar.

But while he is there he learns from Hermes that the goddess Peace has been thrown into a deep prison pit.

Trygaeus calls upon the different peoples of Hellas to make a united effort and rescue her, and with their help drags her out and brings her back in triumph to earth.

The play concludes like a George Lucas, Star Wars epic with festivities (during which jelly beans and lollipops should be thrown) and the goddess restored. Trygaeus is married, during this party to Opora (Harvest), handmaiden of Peace, represented as a pretty courtesan.

In real life my son completed the Dunwich Dynamo. 112 miles. Cycling out of London and chasing the sun down to Dunwich beach!

Not to be confused with THE DUNWICH HORROR!

As I'm not one for cycling (too many years as a car driver. I know how badly car drivers drive) I would be far more at home dealing with the unspeakable horrors and crawling chaos of aethyr spawn'd phantasms.

Speaking of which, Possession is a rather good film; banned as a *video Nasty* is does what Greek play used to try to do; dragging the inner experiences, of pain, loss, hope and fear over the line of normality and portraying them as physical reality.

A man with a dodgy career (kind of 007) returns to his wife. Their relationship is in a bad way, she feels nothing for him. He knows there is someone else...

2011-07-14T08:29:00.000Z

But (on the subject of hair) there is a pernicious beleif that I can't cut off with my hair; a pernicious beleif that at some point I should give up and become natural.

I should know better. I am proof that getting older is not getting wiser, I could have prediced this. In my defence a shaved head is not 'natural', but my anti-natural antibodies have been activated, I'm suddenly allergic to my ordinary, unaugmented image in the mirror.

Doing something about my lack of hair is also a letting the side down. I'm in a difficult position. I sent for the braids. Basically, I'm not on anyone's side!

Natural is rarely what it seems to be. It presents itself as the desire to rid ones self of all artifice. It is a part, or an effect (?) of Reformation culture. The church walls scrubbed clean of their elaborate images, the people dressed soberly in colours and styles that will not shock. It belongs to a world in which a tattoo is an affront to god, and spicy food is scary. An outbreak of anti-materialism, riding a wave of disapproval -disapproval of almost everything. It is a position often taken by toddlers..and religious communities that perceive god to be, a jealous toddler.

It is a position taken by people who feel that they are trapped in the 'The Cruel Sea' paradigm (a situation so bad that killing shipwrecked men on your own side is justified by the need to destroy the enemy). Which is logical if you really think that god is like a jealous toddler, I mean burning witches makes a lot of sense if god really is a jealous sky toddler.

But I do wonder why anyone would believe in that kind of god, and then (if you believe) why go along with it all!

Kind of reminds me of the News Of The World outrage. I can't stand the hypocrisy, I mean...if you bought the paper....there wasn't a tax....I mean when our government does abominable things in my name, I'm a part of it because we have democracy...but anyone who bought the paper, or gave Murdock money, surely you knew that the paper(s) are a mirror of the lowest common denominator?

The purpose of the church was to model good behaviour and offer alternative ways of living. The Church of England had shares in News International. They needed the money and they didn't want to be seen as puritanical....

But honestly!

Number 1.

2011-07-11T14:32:00.000Z

There goes seventeen years of hair. It had to be a 'number 1' to remove last months henna.

A year Zero for my hair.

I don't know what I think about myself with a shaved head; I have no emotional attachment to the look. I like the courage it takes for others to do it, but don't see any courage in me. I've always had a problem with the borders or boundaries that are used to discriminate between normal and too weird. Confronting them is an old habit.

On the other hand it is so comfortable and so easy to wash, why isn't it more normal for women to shave their heads?

The courage is in wearing something that others classify as pathological: alopecia, post cancer radiotherapy, or chemotherapy or a low-level self-harming (a desire to remove all traces of femininity). Positive images are few and far between, Ripley in Alien 3, that woman in Star Trek the first movie. A shaved head may elicit uncomfortable feelings for some people, psychicaly transporting them to realms of death and impermanence. Mostly though, it is considered ugly because it is effortless; it should be on a baby or a man -only men and babies have any excuse not to take any interest in their appearances.

Like in the last Resident Evil film, it is clear that failing to take a pride in one's appearance will lead to Hobbo-Road and Zombie state. Women are supposed to care, to shave legs and arm-pits but not their heads!

a shaved head is downright lazy.

Any hair style that doesn't require money...is taboo. I can only think of two styles that evoke silent disapproval, and dreadlocks is the other one.

Looking unnatural is a crime.

So, just to see what the lay of the land is I take a trip out to alopecia online- coping with hair loss web site. The blurb on the coping with alopecia takes it for granted that you will not like this new, hairless self, or that other people will make you feel uncomfortable:

Adjusting to a new appearance can be very challenging. Depending on the extent of your hair-loss this might involve employing a number of techniques to cover up the patches, or deciding that you're happy not covering it up and concentrating instead on dealing with reactions from family and friends as well as strangers.

The last time I had a number 1, I also had a long, auburn wig for contrast. It is amazing how differently I was treated depending upon my hair. Well I'm not saying that YOU should be proud to be bald, or that people should know better about how they react to bald women. I'm just trying to come to terms with my *new status* and as a part of that, my hair had to go.

Life as art...

Seventeen years within the liminal in-betwixt and in-between.

2011-07-06T13:41:00.001Z

I am at a crossroads; well almost at a crossroads. I'm walking along a road with no name, I can see it ahead of me, but I'm not quite there yet. Not until Jack is finally settled in his college course (so, mid September that is where the crossroads is located).

You see I left school, trained to be a radiographer, got a job, got married and worked until I became pregnant. Then I seriously left the path, ran away with the wolves in to the far forest, there I got myself a 'spiritual' education, re-married and literally and figuratively returned to the house.

Once again the path was impossible for me to follow. It wasn't a case of being distracted by the pretty flowers, it was never like that. I swear I'd like to be 'normal', my life would be more predictable, I'd have the illusion of security and making progress, and I'd be at odds with my fundamental belief system; but I wouldn't feel such a freak!

In the mid-1990s my third child made such a fuss about going to school that I felt obliged to ask myself what was to be gained by forcing him to fit into a system that was unable to make any concessions to fit him. As no good answers were forthcoming I became a full-time home-educating parent. His example inspired my fourteen year old daughter to walk out of school too, and as I had another child by then, I am (seventeen years latter) pretty proficient in finding exam centers, getting children through GCSEs and into college without any help from those whose motto is every child matters..

But I don't have much else to show, no badge or heavily printed foolscap paper certificate. I have no idea if I passed or failed?

I like the illusion here of a symmetry; seventeen years of home to school and then A levels. A middle section of getting a DCR (R)-work-divorce; another section called Nundro, and finally seventeen years of home-ed.

Time to move on because actually, I'm now unemployed.

After being officially unemployed for twenty-six years!

That sounds so bad...can't believe I've been unemployed for twenty-six years!

Well there is the obvious feminist jibe of wife as prostitute?

I quite like that concept, though.

Obviously it makes sense to go out to work unless I can justify my word-wrangling, food-processing skills enough to make a good case (good enough to convince me) that I should remain here with its perpetual liminal quality of being in-betwixt and in-between.

Entering a work place for which there were no exams to provide 'empowerment', or wage, catastrophically did my head in. I had to learn to use an alternative value system, it doesn't come naturally to let go of intellectual hierarchies when you have been trained to value qualifications; doing without feedback is one of the hardest things down here in the liminal in-betwixt and in-between.

So, what do I want to do?

What I want to do is to start a theater company that specialises in Greek plays and myth, that eventually provides some money...What I want to do is return the esoteric (and oddly enough Euripides has become, in this day and age, esoteric) to everyone. Sure, soap opera does tragedy better, but the originals are fascinating. And snippets from the originals are quoted by people in such a heavy way, made out to be such a big deal...or lines from Aristophanes (in particular) are used by such and such a writer to prove an obscure point (and when you track down the original quote, it has been taken completely out of context). I've kind of got bored and would like the plays to become ordinary.

Greek plays are not Shakespeare, but Shakespeare took from Ovid (Roman guy who re packaged Greek...and the Greeks who re-packaged Assyrian/ Babylonian/Mesopotamian/ Persian...). Generally Greek plays are easy to understand if you suspend disbelief and are willing to enter a different cultural view point.

Even Aristophanes should have his place...
This isn't going to be easy is it.

2011-07-04T14:26:00.000Z

Temporarily gained another son; this one thrown out of his home for all sorts of reasons. None of them seemed to justify the actuality of telling one's son to actually get out and leave, though. Psychological reasons at play, undercurrents and all that!

His grandfather turned up at 8 AM, and the errant son will go to his home at tea time.

Until then we have band practice in our kitchen.

When teenage boys turn up to sleep over, they usually end up going down town to graze; either Subway, or pizza or a local curry house; then sleep on our living room floor, which gets covered in futon mattresses. They remind me of kittens or puppies, all so very sweet.

Last sleep over there was vodka, but the only child to be sick was my son -who managed to get to the bathroom- so its not too bad at all. Plus they are really quiet.

It helps that they are musicians, I think.

Seems that the party (sex, drugs and...) has shifted into the world of cycling!

Bradley Manning songs..

2011-07-01T10:16:00.000Z

This one is the best so far:

Dial-up internet connection..

2011-07-01T09:46:00.000Z

The sound slowed down by x800..

One more...

2011-06-23T13:01:00.003Z

The last interview.

After complaining to the last college I was surprised to get to a good outcome. Today is the result of that complaint, the final interview.

I see that it says on the web-site, Four GCSEs required.
I wonder what other home-ed parents do at this point?

I load up the rucksack with all his tutor marked assignments, showing his average marks of 70% to 80%, and his art folder and get ready to explain...yet again.

Why college at all?
The trouble is that we as a family don't have our own shop, or service to offer. We (the adults) have all gone the academic route and ended up working as parts of a bigger system: schools and hospitals. We couldn't sneak a child in through the back door until he becomes indispensable and earns a place.

Guess it is the same for Ollie up the road, back home now after studying at university. His parents work as 'cogs' in bigger systems, too. Working, middle or upper class makes no difference unless you have a trade to teach. Ollie's family are working class, not academically minded. We in this house, are good at exams, but in practice we are as unable to help our kids as Ollie's parents.

It would be better if we were a family of plumbers or painters and decoraters!

I agree that if we had been rich Jack would have done more GCSEs and I wouldn't have encountered this *Four GCSEs* problem, but I didn't have this problem for my other two kids as they were offered unconditional places. Jack has hit a change in government problem; in the same way that his elder brother entered the school system just as the Labour government's new ideas were filtering down and making life down right difficult for teachers and students

League tables
School performance targets.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions. There was suddenly less space to deal with problems, small children were expected to understand the necessity of fitting in with the pre-school (this is at the age of three and four years of age!

And a child has to go to the right nursery for the right school, too. So if your child doesn't get on with one nursery system, and prefers another....then you probably wont get the place at the other school. I mean I don't know why the Internet isn't full of mothers ranting about the hoops and hurdles, red tape and frustrations involved in trying to get the right school place for your child!

I stepped out of it, said no more! went the home-ed route.
which is fine and dandy until your child is almost sixteen.

So Jack tried to get a place in college (had one actually!) just as government policy began to make life down right difficult for teachers and students. In this case, by cutting funding.

This time last year the theater production course that Jack had a place for, would have been running with a class size of ten students (more would probably join). This year, the class size must be twenty students or else the class is deemed a waste of money and doesn't run.

So it goes.

Owen Wilson and Gordon Freeman tell you how to get out of the Google-mirror.

2011-06-22T09:50:00.001Z

So, if you are signed into Google:

And if you are signed out:

Loops.

2011-06-20T09:26:00.005Z

Before I start my rant :)
The Adam Curtis spoof.

I am a fan of loops, or at least I would have said that I was a fan...I'm used to having control you see. I import them, tweak them, switch them on and off. They are voices. I am the conductor. I make them sing...

But information loops of the sort Google creates are traps. It started with the ads by Gmail. Blogger used to do a similar thing. Key words activate the computer equivalent of the conditioned response, it used to be funny.

Nor am I grateful when (the interface I'm using right now) Blogger tells me when my html code contains errors. It's like being interrupted by a two year old that will never grow up.

So, let's accentuate the positive.
Loop used to be one of my favorite bands...
Meanwhile delete those goddamn cookies and use your brain (and a notepad txt) to remember passwords. It is a shame that Chrome is such a fast browser -but there is no such thing as a free lunch, is there now kiddies. Signing into Google makes things easier, I'm beginning to see some sort of integrity crossroads ahead for me, yet again. I'm ducking the issue until last child has a place at college.

Oh go on then, watch the video, but quite frankly the only way to avoid the silly games is not to play. And if you don't play you accept the role of *outsider*.

I don't like this video.
I don't like what has happened to the Internet.

So, party is over. The Internet has been transformed; gone from a difficult to get to library (visualise Alexandria or Persepolis just before they are torched by Year Zero freaks) or imagine having to cross the perilous forest to an abandoned warehouse full of recipes on how to make your own silver-based film, build a coracle, smelt iron ore and glorious lies, such as the Necronomicon FAQ. The floor is strewn with books and disembodied pages -I stop to read some science fiction from the 1920s, and letters from people who have seen things I cannot imagine. The only people I see there are people who just want to know stuff. People don't buy and sell, code is created and shared (remember when blog meant web-log and people used to get excited about scripts? Hmmm..)

The Internet is transforming into a shopping mall:Beiber music, white walls, smooth-free-flow surfaces. And the Internet is a place where I feed corporations what they want, whilst being told that they are giving me what I want.

Second_Life sums up the mediocrity of the New-Net, Web 2.0, and don't for one second believe the hype that HTML 5 will be better! HTML 5 shoves crappy Java scripts into your PC and allows (what used to be called Flash / eye-candy-JS) to run in your browser.

Films like this next one still makes me laugh...

Star without compass.

2011-06-14T10:22:00.002Z

After the college, washing up.

2011-06-13T14:59:00.000Z

I wasn't looking forwards to going into the college at all. I'd put Jack's pictures on a flash drive, I'd made a quick HTML document so that they could be viewed on a background, or plain on a computer, I'd made a PowerPoint summery of my main concern; namely that it is grossly unfair to expect a home-educated child to have taken as many GCSEs as a school child, and then to use GCSEs as a measure of that child's competence.

I printed out the PowerPoint and Jack's poster plus his explanation of how he made the image and why.

I didn't think I'd have the guts to say, 'can we go into a room with a computer' because then I'd have to say '...not a Mac, sorry, it has to be a PC' so printing would avoid all that, I'd just have to have the courage to hand the thing over.

Which I did.

PowerPoint is a rotten format, if you ask me.
A shouty Twitter.

We ended up in a room, absolutely full of Macs and on the third floor (Jack's favorite).
As we were shown around, Jack kept stopping to greet someone he knew.

And the outcome?

He has an interview in ten days time for BTEc music, level 2. Now all he has to do is learn to play the guitar, and write some songs.

So, all in all, was it worth it?
Yes I think so, for us it was. Not sure what hoops they will expect home-ed kids to jump through in future, but I've done my best to explain that exams of any kind are not culture-fair, I mean taking exams is a skill and each exam board has different styles of questions. The kids who failed English in Tom's class (at college) all had passed GCSE English, so what does that say?

M5 sometime between 1 and 3pm. Lydiate Ash.

2011-06-10T21:50:00.001Z

Three miles in 150 minute = 0.02 miles per second.
422.4 inches per minute, which is 35 feet per minute.
Or 3 miles/2.5 = 1.2 miles per hour.

According to Answers.com a snail moves at 0.1 miles an hour, the average speed for a Giant African Land Snail is about 0.04 miles per hour. I was wrong, we were going pretty fast really....but we still didn't get there.

2011-06-09T13:33:00.001Z

Letter from college; fell through the door just as I'd reached an all time low in my appraisal, attitude towards, and general pointlessness of everything.

The letter said that the college had noted my disappointment and then set about making the careers adviser lady feel bad on my behalf.

This was not what I wanted.

What I said in the letter was 'careers advice isn't what a prospective student wants, when he actually wants to attend an academic course'.

I meant *the system you use is crap not the people*.

Complaints end up making things worse...I know I said that yesterday, but now I'm more sure than ever. Of all the people who didn't help, the careers lady in particular does not deserve any kind of blame. She was actually wiping away tears during the interview because the college had closed so many of its courses and they used to do so much. She was glad to be retiring at the end of July.

So the letter was useless and made me want to give up, but I suppose that that would be too easy. That and son not going to bed until 5 AM and then getting angry with me because I told him to revise (last exam tomorrow). I feel inclined to let him sleep tomorrow, except it would waste £480 and would get me nowhere, and even less satisfaction.

As I'm in a pedantic mood, here is what the letter from the college actually says regards course requirements:

"The Production Arts course is a BTEC qualification and affords the opportunity to apply some flexibility to entry requirements (son had a place for this course -but it closed). This is not the same for all our courses and the Creative and Media Diploma [LINK] requires minimum entry requirements as outlines in our prospectus"

Am I missing something?

When is a BTEC not a BTEC?
Obviously when its a BTEC...easy.

So, waiting on Edexcel to tell me what exactly the Centres are required to recruit learners to Edexcel qualifications with integrity bit means in their access policy statement:

From: http://www.edexcel.com/migrationdocuments/Diploma/DP028997-Diploma-in-Creative-and-Media-L3-Phase-1-Issue-4-010611.pdf

Edexcel’s policy regarding access to its qualifications is that:

• the qualifications should be available to everyone who is capable of reaching the required
standards

• the qualifications should be free from any barriers that restrict access and progression.

• there should be equal opportunities for all wishing to access the qualifications.

Centres are required to recruit learners to Edexcel qualifications with integrity. This will include ensuring that applicants have appropriate information and advice about the qualifications and that the qualification will meet their needs.

Centres should take appropriate steps to assess each applicant’s potential and make a
professional judgement about their ability to successfully complete the programme of study and
achieve the qualification.

I have had enough now and want to go home.

Let's try Edexcel chat:

Edexcel (Listening)

Edexcel: Hi, how may I help you?

Me: Hello, I was told that my home educated son cannot be interviewed for a Level 3 Creative and Media Diploma Advanced Level unless he has GCSE Maths and English and 2 other GCSEs at Grade C or above or equivalent. I rang Edexcel yesterday and was told that there are no specific course requirements. I have complained to the college and am going to see the head of department on Monday. I am sure the college has the right to specify qualifications, but it seems very unfair to me.

Edexcel: I am afraid this is the decision of the college, we have no specific requirements but the college may.

Me: Hmmm OK, I'm sure there isn't much I can do about it. It does say in the specifications (Edexcel's -on the media page) that: "Centres are required to recruit learners to Edexcel qualifications with integrity. This will include ensuring that applicants have appropriate information and advice about the qualifications and that the qualification will meet their needs".

Edexcel: If the centre wishes to discuss this with us call us. i apologise i cannot be of further assistance.

Me: OK, thank you. Do I get an email of this chat posted to me?

Edexcel: Not automatically, is this something you require?

Me: No, I'll just copy and paste.

So that's that.
Give up?
Don't know what to do...

2011-06-08T13:12:00.002Z

Two weeks ago I complained to the college.

I said that primarily my problem was the woman who interviewed my son; the way she kept making it clear that she didn't know what to say about a home-educated child; it didn't seem good. Secondly... and thirdly... and basically... it got worse!

I wrote a letter of complaint.

The good thing is, the subject: media -so it is pretty easy to regard all things media as Nathan Barley. In other words, this whole fiasco is god's way (I'd like to believe in Dionysus) of looking after Jack.

In absolute certitude that my letter would make things worse -and if not worse for Jack then for some other home-ed child in the future- I sided with Truth and Justice and posted the damn letter!

On Monday the college got back to me; arranged a meeting to come in to see the head of the department next Monday. I was told that the reason why my son could not be considered for a Btec higher course was that Edexcel were non-negotiable about the GCSEs required for access to that course.

Oh dear.....I have just rung Edexcel and was told (as I guessed, after all my other two kids went straight into Edecel Btec's at level 3) that this plain downright isn't the case, it is not Edexcel who decide which students are good enough!

Which leads me to think that I'm dealing with people at the college who can't just say, look we don't want a home-ed kid (College policy!) and who think that lying to me is a better option?

On the other hand perhaps that it is the college's policy to lie?
When I manage to get back in touch with the college, I will find out which way it is.

I'm now angry.
Add latest detail to the list:

interviewed by someone who kept saying that she was out of her depth.
told that someone would get in touch within the week to say if Jack could have an interview for the higher course.
When Jack applied again (no phone call you see) was told that it would be better not to have the place if he was academically challenged!
Lied to about the reason for no interview (blaming Edexcel).

As far as I'm concerned it is absolutely reasonable for a tutor to say that she doesn't think a student is capable of taking a course if she has asked him questions about the subject, looked at his course work and noted the marks his GCSE course work attains.

As the interview was a massive fail on the part of the interviewer, I'm not going to let it go.

So I will go through my notes and pick up on every last detail of annoyance.

But as I say, it helps that the subject is media...
I don't believe that complaining ever does any good. I can't think of a single incident where my complaining has ever made things better, but that's not the point.

2011-05-31T21:45:00.002Z

The sun comes up...
the sun goes down.

The BBC give us Adam Curtis and Psychoville as their best offerings. Fergal Keene does a good job explaining Irish history, but fundamentally history, especially Irish history doesn't give me any sense of hope.

As the song says, "Corporotized and mesmerized, we're doing fine".
Seems to me that there are a couple of divisions that kind of make sense to me, help to describe types of cultures:

Bronze Age opposed to Iron Age
the Phoenician opposed to the Roman.

The Bronze Age was characterised by a rise in 'warrior' culture. But most of it was probably pretty fake. Status was about how you looked, and what you could afford and bronze shone like gold. So bronze is inedible and bronze is primarily bling. Trade in bronze is fuelled by bronzes symbolic attributes, rather than any utilitarian function. A trade in bronze or pre-bronze (copper and tin) was good for Britain; we swapped goods and stories, information...and then things went bad.

Climate change.

Crops died, people had something real to fight for, and to protect. The amount of grain and animals one had were true wealth. It was the time of hill forts, of cattle raids and chieftains; of paranoia and famine. The 'cult of the severed head'.

Our own time is more Bronze Age than Iron Age, most of everything we buy has a symbolic attribute, many objects are purely symbolic rather than purely functional.

But in our time 'we' have succeeded in going further than our ancestors -'we' have managed to commodify food -that is, to translate its value into the symbolic by treating it as if it was bronze -worth only what someone can pay for it.

Meanwhile the difference between Phoenician and Romans is primarily to do with how a country obtains wealth. The Romans were pretty successful at persuading other countries to pay them taxes and to send exotic, 'ethnic' goods back to Rome. Rome offered citizenship, peace, 'bread and circuses' and lived off war (sorry 'peace keeping' missions). Meanwhile the Phoenicians excelled in tech': the alphabet. sea going boats, glass, and exploiting the Murex sea snails (creating Tyrian purple dye). When the Assyrians turned up on their borders demanding more money and had closed off their access to their silver mines, the Phoenicians took to their boats and sailed West, to find more silver (from Spain, from Sicily). The Phoenicians didn't seem too bothered in starting wars (until they came into conflict with the Romans), acquiring land by force or acting in a Roman fashion.

Trade was more their style, and war gets in the way of that.

Such massive simplifications as I have just made may be totally wrong, but broadly speaking the true wealth of a country depends upon its technology and ability to trade rather than its amount of gold, or even oil.

So it seems odd to me that, as with Rome, war is justified as a means of bringing civilisation (democracy) to 'the barbarians'. I suppose suicide bombers are the new face of 'human sacrifice'. As in the case of Carthage, it is likely that children were sacrificed -and probably to Tanit, rather than Baal Haamon:

There was in their city a bronze image of Cronus extending its hands, palms up and sloping toward the ground, so that each of the children when placed thereon rolled down and fell into a sort of gaping pit filled with fire.
Diodorus Siculus.

Human sacrifice was the great signifier of un-Roman behaviour, and the truth of what actually happened is hard to untangle. But it is possible that human sacrifice occurs only in times of great stress, not because some people are less civilised. Excavations seem to show that in happier times the remains found in tophets were of very small infants, probably stillborn. Only latter is there evidence of older children being murdered.

You have to remember that throwing Christians to lions wasn't 'human sacrifice' though that would be difficult to do, unless you believed that minority groups were such a threat to your society that anything was justified just so long as it kept you safe.

3 Christs.

2011-05-27T09:35:00.000Z

I can't summon the requisite amount of fear, or sense of community enough to dislike the phenomena of people believing that they are what they clearly are not...I live in a time where the act of believing has become a new form of heresy. The concept of Post Modern diffused into the collective consciousness of the 80's and 90's, I suspect via Buddhism (blame the hippies).

My personal act of defiance is to believe anything -putting on and taking off ideas simply to see a new and hopefully a more picturesque view of reality (in all its forms). I then divide beliefs into into useful or otherwise.

And this explains a lot about me.

The Three Christs of Ypsilanti (1964) is a book-length psychiatric case study by Milton Rokeach, concerning his experiment with a group of schizophrenic patients at Ypsilanti State Hospital in Ypsilanti, Michigan.

To study the basis for delusional belief systems, Rokeach brought together three men who each claimed to be Jesus Christ and confronted them with each other's conflicting claims, while encouraging them to interact personally as a support group. Rokeach also attempted to manipulate other aspects of their delusions by inventing messages from imaginary characters. He did not, as he had hoped, provoke any lessening of the patients' delusions, but did document a number of changes in their beliefs.

While initially the three patients quarreled over who was holier and reached the point of physical altercation, they eventually each explained away the other two as being mental patients in a hospital, or dead and being operated by machines.

Rokeach came to realize that his research had been manipulative and unethical. "I really had no right, even in the name of science, to play God and interfere round the clock with their daily lives," he apologized in an afterword to the 1984 edition of the book.

From: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Three_Christs_of_Ypsilanti

It is a hard choice to make, I mean ethical people are certainly expected to refrain from doing this kind of thing. But madness isn't so far away from *sanity* and the murky border world between the two is a great space for fun and games. I harbour a (not so) secret belief that sanity is the ability sane people have to change their minds in the light of new and better information. So in this case, three people who believe that they each are the Christ, either do not have sufficiently compelling reasons to change their minds because of the emotional investment they have made in the theory, or fail to change their minds simply because the new information they are given fails to make enough sense to them?

We will probably never know.
But I want to know so I downloaded the book...couldn't resist...damn you Kindle and your basic HTML that means a computer can read Kindle files!

Unfortunately it is also sane to believe that people warp information in the re-telling (transmission) for all sorts of sane reasons...

hmmm.

In the early hours of the morning...

2011-05-26T14:03:00.000Z

I made some notes.

Latter I typed them into a letter finishing with a brief explanation of why my son should be given a second interview.

Bartang is such a nice font!

As I explain it to my son, the theory runs thus: it is better to fail heroically than to give up and never learn what went wrong. Because only then can you see what you could do better next time.

As I lay in bed last night the thought came to me that the first interview failed because the tutor didn't ask him any questions about the subject he was applying for! I had been so caught up in the broken promise I had forgotten to notice the details. But when I realised this I couldn't sleep, so I made notes ready for today; it was such a glaringly obvious mistake, but we had been blinded by the concept of interview as performance, rather than interview as a dialogue...

So that's that.
I've said my piece now.

Actually it is absolutely horrible having to complain about something concerning one's offspring. The last time was probably twenty years ago; children were coming home with their sandwiches packed into the drinks bottle because they were not allowed to leave any food. To avoid the dinner lady spotting the uneaten sandwiches, the children slyly maneuvered their sandwiches into the little flask (probably My Little Pony) so that they could escape quickly out to play.

I complained to the headmistress; I would rather have the food thrown away than have to fish it out of the flask, but the point being it is neither use nor ornament that the children felt obliged to do this...though perhaps learning to be sly is now classed as a *functional skill*?

Mrs Potter's child had been caught in the act by a dinner lady and made to eat the sandwiches.

After which the child duly vomited.

Of course I didn't get anywhere with my complaint, I just felt a dull wash of humiliation reminding me of how I had felt when I was at primary school.

'Mother's want us to make sure that their children eat their dinners' was the logical response to 'this mother does not want dinner ladies forcing children to eat until they are sick!'

Which kind of reminds me of Ayn Rand's way of believing that everything she said was rational (because to her it was) without realising that to other's her arguments made no sense at all.

But anyway, I have a great loathing for the modern habit of ignoring anything that may be a little upsetting. To go along with this habit is to create an infarction, a patch of death in life, a dull-inertia-boredom space of nothing. Better to shout into the void, and fill it with hot air, than to let it engulf and neutralise all sense of passion, or outrage.

Finally!

2011-05-26T02:06:00.000Z

Twitter has died, Blogger has been locking me out for two days now! But with Blogger, I now realise the problem is Chrome...as long as I use IE it will open the door and let me in.

This mp3 is music to watch the end of the world to, or imaging yourslf in the elevator to hell, here is the muzac.

So, on my list of 'to-do's there was the option to explain to the college what had gone wrong with my son's interview for a media course. What really went wrong was the tutor repeating in different ways the message 'I don't know what I'm doing'. To be fair she had said this when we first met her at an open evening. This means that the person at fault was who ever she asked for help and failed to give it.

Probably the person I emailed about the apprenticeship -who is always checking her emails- and has not replied to me.

But I didn't 'get' the problem. What she should have done was ask my son about media: ask him about film directors, computer games/developers, what programs he uses, ask him about things that he has made....as far as academic stuff was concerned, I'd brought his folder full of tutor marked assignments.

I have absolutely no idea why she didn't ask him about the subject he had applied for.

Anyway, a complaint is a heavy thing. It will bring about well intentioned but fundamentally misguided changes in an attempt to change the system by writing new rules -rather than increasing knowledge...

Troubles...

2011-05-17T11:19:00.000Z

So, what are the names of the things that require attention?

The Kidderminster college problem is on the back burner or rather is a file sat in Google Docs. The problem there was the tutor either lying, or forgetting.

Any explanation from the college is immaterial to the effect it had.

The solution is that I send an Amnesty International style letter ( brief, factual and polite) . I explain what went wrong and refrain from ending with "..and by the way, you don't have to ~~pay~~ thank me for helping you to improve your service.

So that's one.
It still leaves my son without a college place for September, but that's being worked on slowly slowly get the exams over first.

Can you believe it but the silver wedding 'do' is another problem? I think I'm just going to have to be honest; the invite came from my 'best freind' but I get the feeling that we are not friends, not since my mom's funeral. I think it is because of the way I seem; people don't 'get' me.

Or they do!

At the funeral I probably failed miserably to be as I should be: I got cornered by a man intent on telling me all about mink hunting, I was feeling utterly let down by my partner who said that he'd stay away in case he upset my ex (!!!) and finally I really don't know what one is supposed to do at a funeral -there you are, surrounded by strangers all telling you how lovely the deceased was and what a shame it is that she has died...and here's me, unable to grieve in public, unable to agree that she was a saint and thinking, well actually she had a pretty good death compared to many I've heard of...

The mink guy was a distraction but I think my friend felt let down. I laughed at his stories, but if I'd spoken to her I may have ended up crying..

So anyway, she thought that I was mad for marrying again blah blah blah. But last time I saw her (at the art thing) when I went to talk to her, her daughter interrupted (accidental) and in the gap, she walked away ...so I kind of get the feeling that I've done something wrong.

Plus I've written her two long hand-written letters within this seventeen year long time period, and she never replied, I rang her once and she has never rung me; plus it was her mother who invited me to the art thing...

So...what am I to think?

What I think is that I've had quite enough of being rejected by people, and I don't want to play anymore.

And finally?
Finally the last problem is the in-laws, it feels immoral to ignore them, but what on earth is there to do!

2011-05-16T13:05:00.001Z

Actually I'm right miserable.
Stressed is the word for it.

The best way to deal with that is to partition my mind, let the stressed layer do it's thing while I ignore the false read-outs and incorrect data it produces. Meanwhile work on the tangible problems, and accept that I'm not going to want to do some of the things that look correct, and that some of the things that I want to do, that seem correct will be wrong.

So it goes.

The other day when I was directing which way we should go to get to a shop above the Skoda garage -and it was closed- I had the wrong map in my head; we turned right at the Red Lion.

The road ran parallel to where we should be, and then diverged away to the right. As the road continued it brought us close to an Art Decco, Mc Donald's. Curiously there has been some speculation that at this location endeth the British last stand against the Romans and that Queen Boudicca is buried close by.

Boudicca Addresses her army.
The Tacitus Annals: chapter 35

Boudicca, in a chariot, with her two daughters before her, drove through the ranks.

She harangued the different nations in their turn: “This”, she said, “is not the first time that the Britons have been led to battle by a woman. But now she did not come to boast the pride of a long line of ancestry, nor even to recover her kingdom and the plundered wealth of her family.

She took the field, like the meanest among them, to assert the cause of public liberty, and to seek revenge for her body seemed with ignominious stripes, and her two daughters infamously ravished.

From the pride and arrogance of the Romans nothing is sacred; all are subject to violation; the old endure the scourge, and the virgins are deflowered. But the vindictive gods are now at hand. A Roman legion dared to face the warlike Britons: with their lives they paid for their rashness; those who survived the carnage of that day, lie poorly hid behind their entrenchments, meditating nothing but how to save themselves by an ignominious flight. From the din of the preparation, and the shouts of the British army, the Romans, even now, shrink back with terror. What will be their case when the assault begins? Look round, and view your numbers. Behold the proud display of warlike spirits, and consider the motives for which we draw the avenging sword. On this spot we must either conquer, or die with glory. There is no alternative. Though a woman, my resolution is fixed: the men, if they please, may survive with infamy, and live in bondage.”

We turned left and entered *The Zone*.

In theory, this godforsaken area should have worked.

There was space, trees, green grass and shops.Yet even the grass was sinister. I didn't like the way it had been sculpted...on purpose...

The whole place was grim.

It was like the military towns close to Salisbury Plain.

I felt as explorers must have felt on passing close by a village in an un-named country.

Wish I'd taken my camera!

A Lovecraftian take on sex ed'...

2011-05-07T17:33:00.002Z

2011-05-04T16:19:00.000Z

I think that someone somewhere is excited about tomorrows voting thing. For sure, it isn't me. I don't care for consensus, I don't care for compromise. I actually believe that people can work things out; the human race survived only because we worked stuff out.

All processes contain some kind of error or flaw, and it is sensible to try to reduce errors and flaws. Is that AV or FirstPastThePost or NoneOfTheAbove?

So, in the light of that, how does one explain Nadine Dorries today tabling a motion in Parliament calling for the introduction of abstinence-based sex education for girls:

The amendment reads:

Sex Education (Required Content): That leave be given to bring in a Bill to require schools to provide certain additional sex education to girls aged between 13 and 16; to provide that such education must include information and advice on the benefits of abstinence from sexual activity; and for connected purposes.

I wonder what exactly is the error or flaw in telling girls that there is no benefit in refraining from sexual activity or connected purposes?

There are risks associated with everything, especially crossing busy roads, cycling, eating, breathing...existing!

I would have thought the most logical thing to do would be to teach them how to have better sex: fun with latex, the uses and abuses of condoms and a thousand and one things people can do with each other that can lead to orgasm and will not lead to pregnancy.

But then, I am most certainly, absolutely and determinedly, have never been and never will be Christian. Puritanism is just another fetish as far as I can see. I find the act of one culture demanding that its rites and values be imposed upon another, offencive. I don't see any purpose in people demanding that diversity is reduced.

The question is, is it possible to give someone too much information, some people believe so.

The problem is, sex is an emotive subject.

There is an idea embedded in the English language that sex, because fuck is used as a swear word, rather than as a blessing, fucks 'you up'.

Unless it has been sanctified (usually by a man in a dress).

And sanctified means that you have some laws designed to 'protect' you which you may use at your financial peril?! Or you have another fetish, one that involves imagining deities.

Consensual isn't enough -Spanner case.

In theory it is illegal to enjoy getting a tattoo. This rule against enjoying pain is specifically aimed at genital piercings, to be fair I've never heard anyone say that it is illegal to enjoy the tattoo needle. But I do wonder how it is possible to legislate against enjoyment of something that is *supposed* to be painful.

How far does this demand for displeasure extend, is it OK to admit that music I am supposed to hate, I actually like?

Images of poor Stephen Fry conflicted over his love of Wagner!

But Nadine knows about latex and condoms and bananas, and is appalled that:

The thrust was that girls as young as seven are taught about intercourse, safe sex, how to apply a condom on a banana, where to get condoms, how to detect an STI and that they don’t need to tell their parents anything.

Funny really, why don't we go all the way and point out that some girls may wish to keep sex as a 'hidden' subject, to wear clothes that hide their bodies, to make sex so sacred and magical that it may only be given to their owner...

Ah, so that's why god created the Internet..

2011-05-04T08:45:00.000Z

Loops :)

Star...

2011-05-02T16:16:00.002Z

In three parts.
Tune only at end:
Star...

2011-05-02T14:07:00.000Z

A rather jolly mp3.
I'd class it as Electronic Minimal.
Made it for son to use as part of a film he plans to create -the film that needed the head-cam.

Frothday..

2011-04-29T18:34:00.002Z

A mix of Friday-satur-sunday and monday.

Last night in down-town Brum, people spilling out onto the streets from cafes, bars and restaurants. It could look patriotic, today looked patriotic too. Last night I was in a cafe with my 'adopted' family (one of the families I lived with more than my own when I was a child) a distant cousin had an art exhibition; a guitarist played and people milled around: his paintings were on the wall...

But this is a lot like when one has a child in a band.
In other words, a fair proportion and sometimes all of the audience are family and loyal friends.

In other words, isn't an art exhibition meant to cause 'a stir'?
Be anticipated and talked about for weeks beforethe event by chattering rich people?
Rich enough to buy painting...

Isn't an art exhibition a kind of IKEA outing for people who 'value talent' and 'authenticity' and wish to buy a 'symbolic' token that has acquired meaning by being exhibited?

So to get one to 'work' you need publicity and writers to write, value to be attached before hand.

Well anyway, this is only the second such event I have ever attended. The first was over thirty years ago; the artist had made things that looked like brie (the cheese), added wood and sparkly dust...What on earth is the audience of milling around people, supposed to do or say unless they feel inclined to buy?

The polite thing to do is to be bowled over by the brilliance of the imagery, the subtlety of the medium and the importance of the message and then buy something -more than coffee.

The pictures on the wall were pretty, and a kind of 'dreaming' but honestly, they reminded me of some wrapping paper I bought ages ago and still haven't used. The core idea within the paintings was of borders and boundaries and flags...

Today we went to Cheltenham.
I avoided the wedding as much as possible.

Mountain Energei.

2011-04-28T08:09:00.000Z

Back to the stars..Solaris and the roadside picnic.

2011-04-27T13:17:00.003Z

I really should have re-watched the animated version of Dead Space again; it contained just about every reference and links to other texts (primarily films and books) concerning the other great myth of our origin -that we are not only star spawn, but have been selected, augmented and changed by other intelligences.

Arthur C Clerk had the black monolith, Dead Space has the DNA-like artifact (the Marker), Madame Blavatsky had the shining ones. My apologies for the caps lock, but I'm copying and pasting from a Blavatsky 'shrine' and I don't have time to un-cps-lock the text:

7. BEHOLD, OH LANOO! THE RADIANT CHILD OF THE TWO, THE UNPARALLELED REFULGENT GLORY: BRIGHT SPACE SON OF DARK SPACE, WHICH EMERGES FROM THE DEPTHS OF THE GREAT DARK WATERS. IT IS OEAOHOO THE YOUNGER, THE *** HE SHINES FORTH AS THE SON; HE IS THE BLAZING DIVINE DRAGON OF WISDOM; THE ONE IS FOUR, AND FOUR TAKES TO ITSELF THREE, **AND THE UNION PRODUCES THE SAPTA, IN WHOM ARE THE SEVEN WHICH BECOME THE TRIDASA (OR THE HOSTS AND THE MULTITUDES). BEHOLD HIM LIFTING THE VEIL AND UNFURLING IT FROM EAST TO WEST. HE SHUTS OUT THE ABOVE, AND LEAVES THE BELOW TO BE SEEN AS THE GREAT ILLUSION. HE MARKS THE PLACES FOR THE "SHINING AND TURNS THE UPPER INTO A SHORELESS SEA OF FIRE, AND THE ONE MANIFESTED INTO THE GREAT WATERS.

The Book of Enoch is always a rich vein for this kind of treasure:

'And there appeared to me two men very tall, such as I have never seen on earth. And their faces shone like the sun, and their eyes were like burning lamps; and fire came forth from their lips. Their dress had the appearance of feathers... [purple], their wings were brighter than gold; their hands whiter than snow. They stood at the head of my bed and called me by name.

Well, forget the book of Enoch for a bit, the point is Russian mysticism and how the core (Russian) myth is re-envisioned for British and American audiences.

Solaris is an odd film, even in the American version (as opposed to the Russian, Tarkovsky original) there is no threat; the situation upon the space station orbiting the planet Solaris is the problem of getting what you want...or rather of being given what you wish for and then not being able to live with the contradictions, the divergence from reality (a defining characteristic of reality is that it must be grim) and of having to destroy, over and over the thing you love.

A similar problem was 'located' within 'The Zone' (Tarkovsky's Stalker -from the book, Roadside Picnic) the 'wishing room'.

The ultimate problem: a benevolent cosmos and man's inability to accept that. Arthur C Clark kept to the Russian script, but the more contemporary US/UK version is that we are deceived and credulous and fail to see the evil inherent within, until too late.

Mystic cosmology of the sort that inspired Solaris, belongs to Nikolai Fyodorovich Fedorov (1828–1903) whose belief

that humanity would eventually launch expeditions across the cosmos to recover particles that once belonged to their ancestors in order to reconstitute their bodies. Additionally, since Earth would not be big enough to accommodate all of the people who had ever lived at once, room would be found for them on other planets.
http://www.thespacereview.com/article/873/1

inspired Konstantin Tsiolkovsky who worked on rocket engines in the hope of colonizing space. This would, he hoped, lead to the perfection of the human race, with immortality and a carefree existence.

The doctrin is carried forth by the Extropians who:

believe that advances in science and technology will some day let people live indefinitely. An extropian may wish to contribute to this goal, e.g. by doing research and development or volunteering to test new technology.
Extropianism describes a pragmatic consilience of transhumanist thought guided by a proactionary approach to human evolution and progress.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Extropianism

One thing the Russian stories have that 'ours' don't is the philosophical dimension. The US/UK solution is the same as the Russian in Solaris and Roadside/Stalker (to destroy and to kill) but the Russian versions are full of discursive thought, and philosophical problems.

I don't remember those in Dead Space.

When a massive mining ship, the USG Ishimura, comes in contact with a mysterious alien artifact and suddenly loses its communications with Earth. Engineer Isaac Clarke is sent to repair the Ishimura's communications, but arrives to find a floating vessel that has become a complete bloodbath. The crew is mutilated and infected with an ancient alien scourge.

Well (time is running short here, time to help son with revision) missing out many steps, but the myth of humanity as star-spawn-augmented what evers (as opposed to something natural selection threw up) resulted in a lucrative career for Erich Von Daniken and gosh, he is still alive and selling books!

2011-04-25T20:18:00.003Z

We sat at The Sanctuary and latter at Woodhenge. Twenty mins recording time, now I'm left with the results, but what I've done today is play Portal 2.

All day.

The trouble is I like sitting on the motorbike, I like the world rushing past us, I'm proud of the fact that I don't hold on. Sitting on the back of the bike is attentive relaxation. I can't see where we are going or anticipate acceleration, braking of even bends in the road.

But today, no rides out for us.
Some woman on the radio was talking about 'wellbeing' and measurement of poverty; not being able to afford a week away risks 'wellbeing'...well years and absolutely! But I don't think that I have ever been able to afford a week away!

Yesterday cost £60: petrol, earrings, books and finally food at the Royal Oak at Marlborough.

Our time together as a couple, is almost non-existent. We never had a couple phase, straight into parenthood and marriage. So any time we take together is precious.

Meanwhile, Portal 2. The creators of the game (VALVe) have a rather good way with words; black humour, cynicism and down right sarcasm will be found in a VALVe game. Oddly though, Portal 2 reminds me of Quake 1: the same weird sense of dislocation as I enter a map. Like Quake 1 the point is to avoid being eliminated and to push buttons which make a loud noise somewhere else in the map; a series of puzzles, often counter intuitive until they become totally intuitive thinking in Portals... I like Portal 2, but not as much as Portal 1. There are other things and more of a story in Portal 2 than in P1. There are less port-able surfaces and the cross hair no longer lights up when the gun sight is over port-able walls. I don't mind having to put other things through a portal to solve problems, but I preferred it when it was just me...and all the problems were solved by catapulting myself through walls and floors.

There is the sensation of attentive relaxation associated with non-verbal thinking, which I rather like. Light bridges and having to re-direct laser beams starts to feel cluttered and unnecessary, after Portal 1.

But there is an absence of port-able surfaces, so no choice.

Have to use the other stuff!

Seems too long..

2011-04-22T19:27:00.002Z

Since I wrote anything here.

It's part of a compartmentalised life syndrome: I write three blogs, I divide my life into three main sections, but the edges bleed into each other and I get confused.

So, first thing: Urban Exploration.
This is good!
Under London, the mail rail: LINK.

And then there is chomsky, he's always good: LINK.

But real life?
Real life is reduced and focused on exams. Child 3 sat his first on Thursday. I'm still hoping that he gets a college place for September. I want it known to all that I am right pissed off by cuts (that mean his college place no longer exists) and the First Past The Post Vs AV waste of my time and everybody's money, farce.

Don't even get me started on the royal wedding.

If I didn't think that there was a way for my ballot paper to be linked to me (and I'm not sure if it is or isn't. I know that it isn't meant to be, but...) I'd just draw a smiley face. This time I am angry enough to actually write:

NONE OF THE ABOVE.

Too much Chomsky?
Hahahahah no, I don't think so.

I don't want to put politicians in any kind of order. Voting is something I do out of respect for the Suffragettes. I don't think that I've ever actually wanted who ever I've voted for to win; all candidates are the fish-eyed, walking dead. Even the handsome one who didn't see the drum kit...only the shoes.

I understand the dialogue inside their heads, the one that repeats over and over, the one that makes them want to play this game. It runs thus: 'I'd like to change things and make life better'. Unfortunately that means playing with law and imagining that they are good people.

Wanting to be seen as *good people* .

Lets be clear, my diagnosis is simple: The desire to be good means that they are not -not good. I mean. They want me to vote for them for my own good...but I'll say it again, they are not good, or even seem able to grasp the meaning of the word.

If they were good they would step off the road, lay down the burden of their egomania and realise that they had a problem. The best thing for people who want to be good is religion, preferably of the monastic variety. Being good would be praying for the sick to any or all god (gods). It would be better, if they really wanted to be good to do some medical training and give away some time for free. If they were really good people they would be working on bin lorries or cleaning sewers to prevent rats and plague, understanding that civilisation only happens when water and sewerage, food and health care work! If they were good they would be taking care of children and asking themselves important questions about why megalomania is so appealing to them..

But really, with AV I'm meant to put politicians in order of preference. It was the same with the car (trust me, this does make sense) when I bought the car I got a post-buying-phone-call. The man said "Can you tell me why you bought that car?" I said because there was £2000 off and I like Volkswagens. He said "Why" I said, "Not really". He said "Can you give me five reasons why" and I struggled. He made suggestions, like "Fuel economy, reliability, safety" and I said yes.

He said "Can you put them into an order of preference"? I said "No".
He had gone too far.

Quite frankly it should be easier with a Volkswagen than a politician...so...so what!

The space to give a truthful answer is non-existent.
The truthful answer is the bowl of fake lemon and limes by the coffee machine at the VW garage. But mostly it was the money-off. Actually if I'd taken my concerns for energy and economy seriously, buying a new car (that isn't as fuel efficient as the old one) and scrapping the old, would not have happened. The 'right' answers were designed to show how deluded I'd been by the 'green-wash'.

So much for freedom....when the real answer does not fit into a predetermined category and therefore cannot exist.

Then The road Of Entities 2.

I can never tell...

Fall out from Son's music Btec.

Films :)

A *bad thing*.

Downton..

"A silver, poison sky..."

Oh bright new future...

InternetZ must have cats.

Other than finding a pair of 20 hole Dr Martins...

So...what exactly was yesterday?

Christmas eve, eve.

Solstice.

Weather reports...

x 3 spammage.

Loops.

My birthday.

WCA_1.

Slater Tangents.

General observations.

Michelle remembers..

The way home...

The shadow..

Modern hymns...

Erra.

Ticks and leaches...

Tuesday morning.

Back to basics...

What is the Method?

Birmingham Peace camp.

Dance of the lobsters...

Dance of maya.

Ice and heat..HAARP part 2.

Right side...trigger point 2.

ARG..the death of history, creation of mythology.

Pass the tin hat...HAARP.

Dislocation..

Trigger points.

Fascinating things.

Father Christmas and the ghost towns.

Why things don't work.

Theater Gron Geen-yole.

Library pictures 2.

Franklin.

Dream Theater.. but I forgot my pen.

for some reason...

Spam pots.

Library Pictures.

Sunday.

Waaaayyy back.

Books of Providence...

Lady Princess Sameera.

Time..

Argentum Vivum..

3 spam.

4:33 am.

Sunrise today.

Bleach.

Mappa Mundi.

Profit the world and lose a soul...

Not writing.

Image...

Number 1.

Seventeen years within the liminal in-betwixt and in-between.

Bradley Manning songs..

Dial-up internet connection..

One more...

Owen Wilson and Gordon Freeman tell you how to get out of the Google-mirror.

Loops.

Star without compass.

After the college, washing up.

M5 sometime between 1 and 3pm. Lydiate Ash.

3 Christs.

In the early hours of the morning...

Finally!

Troubles...

A Lovecraftian take on sex ed'...

Star...

Frothday..

Mountain Energei.

A bad thing.