It’s like that and that’s the way it is.

This post is about views we acquire, and take on the way of the world; what we think we know and how we imagine it works. We live in an age of spin and misdirection, more so since Churchill exclaimed; In wartime, truth is so precious that she should always be attended by a bodyguard of lies. Lies, in any time, human interests can only be served through shared knowledge. The modern problem of warfare is the that cost is borne by no collective or shared perspective, it’s the singular act of ‘good’ against ‘evil’ or axioms of such battles (did you see what I did there). All war is futile but the struggles we have are vital. The big picture view on the wars going on is undeniably about oil, securing the source and transportation. Effectively, by saying nothing everyone allows such practice to go on, we don’t reject or object to the governance we are asked to experience, we project to others. Unless we each stand up and say NO or FUCK YOU! All systems are go and all the cards, options are on the table.

If transparency meant anything in political spheres these secretaries and ministers would drop the publicity sheen they smear across their faces and their presentation styles worn like clothes; metaphorically John Prescott dresses in Y-fronts and vest, yes a string one of course. Gregor Osbourne, the shadow treasurer accessorises with spats, a cloak and a cane. Very much the same as all of them, the top hats are obligatory in their crowd with pretentions to be Lords or holders of other dubious awards of empire; yes I know the e should be capital. I just want to highlight the dysfunction and decreptitude of what some would have spelt out correctly.


If transparency meant anything in political spheres these secretaries and ministers would drop the publicity sheen they smear across their faces and their presentation styles worn like clothes; metaphorically John Prescott dresses in Y-fronts and vest, yes a string one of course. Gregor Osbourne, the shadow treasurer accessorises with spats, a cloak and a cane. Very much the same as all of them, the top hats are obligatory in their crowd with pretentions to be Lords or holders of other dubious awards of empire; yes I know the e should be capital. I just want to highlight the dysfunction and decreptitude of what some would have spelt out correctly.


Some people might think me a dick or come with another predictable insult, not so long ago I was right off the rails and going over the edge of all edges. I flipped and went in to a spin with everything before a path began forming under my feet. For the last ten years I’ve been living in a diminishing world, not that it’s getting small but I’ve been getting attuned to my real problems. When I got angry, felt defeated or overwhelmed I noticed it wasn’t because of the presence of problems I could deal with but the lack of things I could offer or what I felt should be real coming this way. My real issue was dealing with the absence of stuff that could be found with a little effort. By little effort that means less effort than getting wound up, lashing out or lighting up a slow fuse. I’ve enjoyed the sense of absence that I can easily direct, curiosities replace distractions because the absence of ditractions must be quetily maintained. Anger is confused with passion and we often enflame rather than help channel the energy of friends and people we care not to hurt, because there's an absence of pain and effort on our part. Lliving with the absence of things, gets you to thinking whether all this pain and suffering, the anger and hate is when a sense of love is lost, that the absence of acceptance or tolerance is found.

I’ve never thought of myself as an altruist, just a realist with some basic ideas on a quest for a sense of all this; something more than this life is said to posses. Not even this blog is an act of grace it’s a selfish streak of meaning deep down. I’m on a road of learning and being, being being a never-ending state of learning and getting feedback on what we’re doing. I’m on a road where the way of the world, the lost hope, waste and squandering of talent and opportunity, is holding me back from the journey. I kind of imagine Budhists have experienced this paradox of oneness for quite some period, just their too accepting to do anything more than try to get along; maybe that goes for trappists and other Monks, too meek to fucking speak! Shit I don't mean to sound righteous just saying it ain't so easy get on if we aren't getting on.

It’s the same in the Science I dedicated myself to about 20 years ago, maybe longer if I allow myself to imagine all my troubled years as a teenager were the first fluttering of a desire to explore.Can’t say I’ve ever been far but I do go deep, an attempt to immerse myself in the landscape and shaping tides. I've always been looking for deeper meaning that patience has a hand in describing. 

Telling it straight, we need new translations that bride the creative gap between our conscious choices and imagination, to understand the process that’s happening within our experience of emotions, stress patterns and rhythms of time.

Time is a highly specialised sense of sequence and the most easily influenced form of awareness. The very fact that questions we think should be asked go mentioned, influences our ideas of whether such things are important through time. We are all told, by many sources, the acts of human nature or instinct, how life IS, what we should be focussed on and what matters in the world. We then must use time as a scale, rule and measure of ideas, to see things occur, the revelation of it happening. Many people suppose that time moves in cycles and have other nasty habits of translating our habitats. Cycles and circles that come back around just can’t happen, people can loop back on themselves or be going round in circles but the whole World and Universe is growing up around us, constantly moving from where it was. Time can only spiral and we can feel closer to one era than another but we can’t return to that age. Human nature, like I said previously, is more enduring than we can imagine and we will always be forced to reshape our view of the world. I’ve come to the conclusion that the truth about life is that it is so precious I would rather throw it away than give it for next to nothing.

Radical Science

Sometimes you get so far down a road, head bowed to the furrow that when you look up your suprised to find a crowd has gathered around you. So it is with my pet subject, metaphorical meaning, I've been studying this topic for around a dozen years and there's more researchers surfacing from the dark recesses of mind.

my own specialist area is Expressive Quirks, one of them is a phenomenon called verdinglichung, a special case of over-thing-ification, take a look at these pictures for more of an idea

You will see things that aren't part of the picture, your mind makes it up. This is re-ification similar to verdinglichung except with images instead of words. Mostly we don't notice this occuring as it happens just below the surface of our awareness.

The most profound example of verdinglichung affecting behaviour is the continuing myth of race.

Racial questions are always going to divide people and populations until the contexts we communicate fit with the differences experienced. If we keep talking of racial divides we keep the dream alive, the illusion that somehow we are made of different blood and bone, genetically not the same. We are alike and only separated by the changes of culture, environment and creed of our ancestors, more bonded by experience than any generation before us.

If you’ve lived in any black community you would feel it is more close-knitted than any white streets. More so than the middle-class pretence that doesn’t have the living-in-each-others-pockets reality that adversity brings.

Archaeology and genetics have shown there was little diversity in the birth of man, that we all came from the African Plains, I don't hold that up as fact but it's one of the few times science and the bible agree on anything. There is only one human race and only pettiness seperates.

Spring cleaning, revisions and thoughts on authority

This is another update from the saddle, well, my mates couch, where I’m crashing for a few days. I don’t have my mp3 player/memory stick so there’s no regular update yet, maybe the whole script needs revising and needs a rewrite from the beginning? In some way the story needs putting in simpler and more familiar terms. The narrative doesn't hold the power that it could or maybe the subtlety is more important...Some days life screams high pitch in your ear and other times it’s so quiet you can believe there’s no-one else on earth. (for an instant!)

Last night when I arrived there was a bit of business and pleasure, some extended plans to arrange in orbits, our futures coming around to the right place in time. The rain is beating down on the conservatory while I’m sitting here smoking. Not a time to be on the road. I rode an hour through the rain to get here but that’s not a complaint. My resolution seems to be riding every day, that’s what feels most right to fall for. Call it inspiration, we can only imagine there’s something to understand, room for your own interpretations  and scope for potential.

Anyway, continuing this tale. Bingo, handed me some papers that came his way and thought might be of interest to me. An old paper on anarchism that pieces together extracts from speeches over the years, highlighting the dangers of tyranny and corrupt power.

An oratory from Pericles in 5th Century BC.


Our constitution is called a democracy because power is in the hands not of a minority but of the whole people. When it is a question od settling private disputes everyone is equal before the law; when it is a question of putting one person before another in positions of public responsibility, what counts is not membership of a particular class but the actual ability the man posseses.


We do not get into a state with our next-door neighbour if he enjoys himself in his own way, nor do we give him the kind of black looks, though they do no real harm, still do hurt people's feelings. We are free and tolerant in our private lives; but in public affairs we keep to the law. This is because it commands our deepest respect.


Our love of what is beautiful does not lead to extravagance; our love of the things of mind does not make us soft. We regard wealth as something to be properly used, rather than something to boast about. Here each individual is interested not only in their own affairs but in the affairs of the state as well; we do not say that a man who takes no interest in politics is a man who minds his own business; we say he has no business here at all.

These are the founding fathers of modern democracy and undrstand the meaning of the word better than the translations we trade in today's terms. This weak democracy is reflected in the referenda of limited information and choice, virtually meaningless voting rights, and an effect described in 'The Federalist Papers' from around '87.

Parliament is not a congress of ambassadors from different and hostile interests; which interests each maintain, as an agent and advocate, agaianst other agents and advocates; but Parliament is a deliberative assembly of one nation and one interest.
You choose a member indeed but when you have chosen him, he is not a member of Bristol, but he is a member of parliament.

I keep finding that this thing called the human spirit is more passionate and creative than the box the mind uses to square such ideas away, or any shape that could hold it back. More or less we’ve all got something we can give, a unique gift that make each of us different.. Patience, tolerance and forgiveness are acts that take something more than a normal effort, or do they? Do a persons perceptions even require such demands? Maybe, it’s possible; that people find things different to how it all seems from our position, that we all can get absorbed by what takes our attention. I also mean that in the yin & yang, the positive and negative light we shine on any subject. The way media and even our friends do that.

I’m separated from part of the crew, devastated by the death of one of the old school. A real blow but I didn’t really know, except through respects, who the guy was. It’s for the best as I don’t go well with funerals and death, it’s all in a life. I don’t go through or deal with stuff, I’m riding everything out. I couldn’t see my friends cut up so I split the scene for a while. Also been in a reflective mood for some time, only just surviving by picking up loose ends and slack for the team.




Bingo and his Witch Wife moved over the Bank Holiday weekend, I gave them a hand with packing and loading some painting and cleaning, alot to do but it all fell together nicely. We even had time to look at the Citroen Chicken Coop-e parked in the barn of the farm they were on. I will attempt to get a picture next time round. It’s a comedy car that has a stack of bales and a chicken coop on top of it; it fires up and runs, I’d love to find out if it drives!



All the political animals are on-heat going into election season, not that change or power rests in so few hands. The voters are guilty of advocating and accepting this terrible system. Engineering dysfunction and detachment from the real world, the air, water and earth.
There’s already a war in words, since by it’s nature a democracy can’t be corrupted, our leaders are busily corrupting the meaning of the words and language, watering down the refinements and descriptiveness to the bland purposeless waste that marks all sense of life their ambitions have led us to.
Government isn’t Governance and the growing difference is what ought not to be missed. Appreciating and being aware of differences isn’t being different, it’s just an ability to contrast change against experience. Really, will any of these puppets be strung any differently?

A life of grime

As much as the roads are falling apart bits of them are stuck in every nook of my bike. Cleaning down today and getting into all the mucky stuff before  lubing up, not in a kinky way, just keeping all the parts moving smoothly!

The  sense of grime comes from the whole sensory spectrum, from the smell lingering in my gloves and helmet a mixture of damp and sweat. The flecks of oil and dirt on my waterproofs and the need for frequently cleaning my visor.

I'm also harbouring a little fear that I might be becoming a new breed of eccentric ' gentlemen of the road' which is the polite name for a tramp. Every town must have one of these bag wo/man, sometimes with a range of shopping carts or trolleys, sometimes on a bike fashioned with carriers for collecting rubbish, cans and empty fag packets. They got wild staring eyes and a great big bushy beard, even the female variety! Like I say it's only a little worry that I might be the first of a new motorised breed. Something to notice about the movement; Collecting and gathering experiences in neat arrangements rather than an extensive collection of tools and implements that aren't necessary.

All the rain and mud, the water-logged verges and flooded roads contribute to the unclean feeling creeping over my skin. That's not the only thing I turned forty over the weekend and aware of wearing the years. In truth, there's some revulsion toward a few of the characters I've met lately. No-one can measure their own beauty and it beats me, these people who seem afraid of growing old or unwilling to admit decay, the meaning of the word.

I can't deny it myself, given the life I've led but I don't let it get under my skin or bury itself in an unknown corner of my world. Like the view we can hold toward others, people like ourselves. If we aspire to the most honourable and noble vision of them, we do ourselves no harm.

Like the old saying goes - you got to crack a few eggs to make omelettes. This body's been lived in there's a few scars where the strength of mind and body is pushed to endurance and growth when things rush to become too much. learning can only come from experience, where ideas are tested. Better paying such a price than the never ending cost of vanity and pride. Adoring a body from the outside like a pet or stray creature a person grew fond of, some faults comforted with generosity.

I don't get this feeling of decline, the empire down. This most creative time is like a dateline but no-one can be certain what it brings. Humanity isn't loosing it, getting out of control or chaotic. A lot of people feel lost, out of the picture or the loop, doesn't make the experience true, it just makes it real.

RDS




  

Shadows & Reflections Pt.1

Forget about complexity, the first rule of self-discovery is learning how creative you have grown. Nothing is complex in either scientific or conventional wisdom. Complexity requires definitive rules that just aren’t there, whereas Creativity just requires a beginning and an adaptive attitude. If you know you are learning something it’s a safe bet there’s value in continuing to do what it is you’re doing. Getting bored of things just might be a sign there’s not much to appreciate, but sure, yeah you are trying to have fun. I’m moving out of home that has been kinda my own for the last 6 years. This comes into the poetry of my own experience and a drama of many events of wider life. Obama has had ten months in office, questionable in the kind of change he can approve of, let alone pass. I can’t see him bringing any peace for Christmas. What I leave behind is part of the story, what I’m heading towards must also find a place in events unfolding here and in time.


POETIC SENSE

You bring life to these words, your whole being shapes the way in which the world turns.

Sentences, impressions of expressivness, reflect to you a sequence of how one action leads to the responses your getting.

Your vision step by step carries you closer to meaning, understanding cause & effect and the position of everything.

Relatively speaking, describes transitions from existence to being, shifting attention from where we’ve been to where we’re heading.



To understanding complexity requires a singularly penetrating intellect to grasp the essence of pure subject, a creative system only requires a sense or thought as a beginning. Complexity does not exist for a purpose beyond a patterning of logic, the scattering of attention to details that don’t easily relate to in a state of wholeness. Creativity IS purpose, it’s the expression of people being, in a state of confusion, tension, calm, sensitive.

From historic events, we retrace some of the steps taken by many of the residents in the house. Matteus was first to depart being Louche and not finding things at all to his taste. I can appreciate where he was coming from but I decided to wrestle my own pleasures from these walls, with a little effort being comforted by the way things were arranged. I’m an absolute control freak and this is the skill that I am re-directing in the planning of my life’s next turn in direction. The control is being applied to this work and the negotiations, in how I continue to live in the moment. Christmas is a week away, It’s my Mums birthday today and we’ve got four days left to leave the house after bargaining a few more days in household appliances. Only me and Special K remain Bingo Goodblood, who’s partial remains are still stored in the loft, now have anything left to take or chuck away. I use names that few people would recognise, I like the risqué effect that a little recognition brings. You only need to know they have a meaningful name, such as K having a special diet. It might effect some of the other people mentioned professionally or a little personally. For me it means I am exposed, a tax dodger who remains, laughingly on the run from HMRC, agents I have challenged through the courts without support for my case. My contention is that they are agents of mass murdering gangsters who are applying heavy-hand tactics and demanding my money with menaces. I have refused to financially support them any more than I already have and stated as much in court evidence. There is also the question whether Tax is legally interpreted as a cost or an investment. This being resolved, allows me to know if I am reclaiming my costs or disputing the profits I’m supposed to be reaping in. Again, the name I put to the book is an interpretation not the real fish in this ocean.

The Customs and Revenues chaps who came round the house seem to think I don’t have a leg to stand on. This could be a lone-stand and I would not falter in the aim, the bullets of the defence are loaded in the actions of those I accuse, in the Rotten Boroughs of Private Eye. The suppressed data and false competition Laws that keep banks and corporations from paying the dues they owe. From the recognisable being enveigled through designs and trifles that only offer vague scope for jigsawing patterns into threads we can stitch together in a lifetime.

This story ends mid February when I have to leave the comforts of security in resting my head somewhere regular. My control need is so great that I have always sought to know what I am doing and why this or that is happening. Why the requirement of living is as it is, I know this will all end in a finite point of realisation. I’ve already died for one mistress so I’m wedded to what emerges in the light of day. The first Love is always unspoken because the passion is too great and must be kept a secret. It cannot be seen for the obsession it is, the object, the subject isn’t Love. Nothing will remain except the story and things I’ll take on this journey.

An In-betweener

I'm posting fragments when I get the chance, an internet computer and time on my hands. It's odd because time has moved on from the period presented and right now I'm not where your at with this story.

Each segment is a bite sized chunk, lumped together, there's more threads and meanings appearing and getting woven into the fabric. Look back if you've been missing out.

FIRST INSTALLMENT OF THE REAL MOTORCYCLE DIARIES

THE OPPOSITE WAY TO EVERYONE


I could believe you but I don’t. You say we’re almost all alone together, we’re all alone. You say you will I know you won’t.


I was wrong to ever doubt, I could get along without.


Yeah I can love my fellow man but I’m damned if I’ll love yours.


In a bar that’s always closing, in a world where people change. I don’t want to talk this over, I don’t want to talk it out.

- Andrew Eldritch.

If you’re going to do Globalisation do it like Sony, completely. Like Tesco’s out of Town superstores, there’s a real logic in the next generation Blue Water Malls. What we discover about people can become a part of how we happily live life, the Malls are designed and equipped with every newness that could fascinate and delight the senses so why don’t our roads get designed the same way? If people have choice, everyone decides to get into the best position to choose. Sometimes the shoes in the first shop suit you best but how could you know, without looking around? Whatever it is we hope for it’s hard to come by and harder to hold, I can sense that I’ve grown old, a little more jaded with the world. In some way unburdening this lumber I’ve collected together between these covers, lightens my load and the gravitas of the mass being processed is released energetically between you and me.

This collection of words reflects my search for something rarely found and only whispered in secrets. It isn’t a search for eternal life, only a hint, a glimmer or some sense of what all the uncertainty’s about. It isn’t like Jung’s secret symbols and relationships of thought, though like him I suspected these topics might be taken to the grave. These are secrets that reveal themselves once you begin to take an interest, questions that find answers in the most encompassing fashion. It’s said the Gods despise those who would Love Life or take it carelessly. My disposition to them is generous, even elegant compared to an unschooled, lack of experience that comes from never knowing mistakes. I take it a sense in all of us decides to make steps toward future events, which arrive whether we are ready or not. In the cut-and-thrust of business it may seem reasonable to dispense with care and compassion...here in the real world it’s all that counts the instinct for consideration before the roaming ignorance. It’s the only cost measured against our wounded heart and unsatisfied self. Beyond the action movies and emotional appeals of televised drama, what stands any wo/man out from a crowd, holds their shoulders proud?

No-one is fooled and the only fools are we, ourselves for letting go of the reins, getting caught up in events. I find it amazing how life twists and turns a kind of fortune and balance into every element we can grasp or find from human exploits. It isn’t true, in today’s world saying “It IS voter despondency leading to less turn-out at the Polls”. The voters I know, including myself, are disenchanted and disenfranchised from the current system of government. Even the voting public don’t really have a sense of power, so what’s going on there?

I’ve got eight weeks to write this and it’s happening when everyone in England knows there are very few honourable members representing the people of the land. This isn’t going to be a criticism of rule, of class or a system that must be raged against. It is difficult to find anything pleasing to associate with politicians; who claim things that have always happened as ‘policy victories’ and blame much of the failures on forces beyond their control. This is even if they choose to comment at all. I‘ve spent a lifetime extending an influence, retreating, learning and refining my reference points, now I have something to say. I doubt any other person has spent so much time analysing their behaviours since the last period of psycho-dynamic industrialism, when things were made or made believable. Since then there have been many changes in how changes are sold and how old ideas can be re-told in modern terms, fabled rewards, profits and mechanisms to keep the books balancing.

Here's my ride as it looks at this time, parked up at the house I'll tell you more about.