Friday 30 November 2007

Human Dynamics- Where We Are Evolving To

Sometimes, evolution produces a qualitative change.
Life is always pushed forward. Survival dictates it, the Red Queen dictates it.

Sometimes, a species finds a niche as yet untouched, a virgin life strategy.
The first land animals did that.

The first placental mammals, by evolving a new way of bringing young into the world, a way that meant that less energy needed to be spent on producing young, because more would live, they did that.

And we, we did that.
We invented a new life strategy.

Because how Man lives, how Man feeds himself, how Man breeds, is all new. It is different, so very different from every other species alive.

It is sometimes said that other animals are intelligent too. Dolphins, for example.
I'm sorry, but objectively, that doesn't hold water. For one simple reason. Our intelligence is different.
No matter what thoughts a dolphin has, no matter how great we can imagine their language to be, they cannot convey to eachother every last nuance of their thoughts. Their thoughts die with them.
Ours do not.

That is how we live. Human beings transmit and process information.
None of us here have met, yet do we not in some sense know eachother? Have we not all shared thoughts? And in some cases, it's scary. Because, Helen here, is bang on the mark, certainly concerning me. THAT'S how good we are, not just at SENDING information, but at RECEIVING it.

Hey, long after our lives have passed, these blogs of ours may still be read.
True. Think about it.

That is something new in the history of life. And it is what makes us special.
Because it is a whole new dynamic.

Collective species do well. Look at insects. The termite mound is a truly amazing thing. In proportional terms, it is a far greater achievement than most mammals can achieve. Except us. Because our dynamics allows us to take on the advantages of a collective species. Evolution is forcing us in that direction.

And no, that doesn't mean we will turn into some sci-fi horror, a species of mindless automatons.
Because we are very different. It is our evolving minds, our evolving consciousness, our evolving reason, that will unite us.
Because whilst there are always many points of view, there is only one reality.
Rational Man, will have less need of the concept of self.

It's the numbers game. The survival of our own genes, depends on how many other bodies there are to help us live, how many other bodies, ho many other variations there are for our genes to couple with. It serves you and I as individuals far better, should there be seven billion human beings, rather than six.

And evolution favours the fittest- the fittest to survive our increasingly complex world.
That isn't necessarily the muscle bound hulk.

It is the intelligent, the good communicators, but most important, the caring and the loving. People who are, in some sense NICE.

Because they bond people together, they benefit society. Thus, they tend to have children.

It really is true, likeable people are favoured by evolution more than unlikeable people.
But it goes further. The human species has harnessed sex in a way no other species has. For one, we tend to do far more of it, compared to most mammals. And unlike most animals, it serves purposes beyond reproduction. It is a bonding mechanism. It creates huge emotions in us, which set off our communicative faculties, that send our souls bonding in a tornado with that person we are holding in that post coital glow.

And more than that. I think most human beings are slightly bi-sexual. That doesn't mean that we all PRACTICE it, merely that the dynamic applies. We tend to pick our friends for reasons which would equally apply, were we making the choice for reasons of sexual selection. That's no surprise really. The dynamics of our species favour those who bond well. So those who use sexual dynamics and change the nature of them to form platonic bonds with members of their own sex, are favoured.

Taking it further, those with the highest sex drives, and for reasons beyond reproduction, are in fact favoured. The future favours the use of sex as a bonding tool. One can only surmise that our descendants will be even randier than we are.

I think that's what Love is. It's that dynamic which knows what our most important instinct is. That human survival is very much tied up with that soft caressing of a lover with limbs intertwined, but equally so in that rough hug that you give your mates when you meet them in the pub, in the synchronised chanting of a football crowd, in our desire to share our thoughts with total strangers on a medium this.

Human beings, the compulsive lovers, the compulsive communicators.

Surely our future can't be that bad?

Dance Music- It Does The Job For Me

Superfluous post, I will do a more serious one later.

Always been into Dance Music, ever since I was a teenager. I often listen to it whilst blogging, in fact. Generally the stuff I listen to is Trance. But here are a few of those floorfillers of the early to mid nineties which first brought me to Dance Music and ultimately to the Club Scene.

That was KLF, a brilliant performance act, certainly.
Now back to this side of the pond, with The Shamen.

And of course, the track I used to bore people to death with for a good two years solid at university.

Classic stuff.
Well, to me anyway :)

Thursday 29 November 2007

De Valera- An Enigma of History

The jury is still out on Eamonn De Valera.
That is certain.

As De Valera himself said, when history made it's judgement, it would favour Michael Collins at his expense.
And that certainly seems so.
The Ireland that might have been, had Collins not perished in County Cork in the dieing days of the Irish Civil War.

An Ireland where the strong leadership of Collins kept the victors of the Civil War in power, where Fianna Fail never emerged, where the Free State triumphed permanently over Republican idealism, which may have fought side by side with Britain in World War II.

We can never know. And it suits many to imagine that history would have been happier in the Emerald Isle, had it been Dev, not the Big Fella who copped it in 1922.

For De Valera is the face of twentieth Century Ireland.
Sole surviving Republican Commander from the Easter Rising.
President of the Provisional Government.
Figurehead of the Anti-Treaty forces in the Civil War.
The author of the Constutition of the Irish Republic.

Taosaich for twenty six years.
President for fourteen.

For half a century, Ireland was mesmerised by De Valera.

This little anecdote always sums it up for me.
During the thirties, De Valera was driving through County Clare, when his tyre blew. He went to the boot to get the spare and a local farmer who was passing stopped to help.

Cars and suits being an oddity in the area, the farmer asked if Dev was 'One of those Dublin fellas up for the election.'
Of course, there was no TV in those days, cinemas were a rarity, even radios not over common in the West of Ireland.

Dev replied that the farmer could say that, he supposed.
The farmer spat into the road 'Well, you needn't have bothered. We're all for De Valera round here.'

He had that effect. He was a name, a legend, the torchbearer of Ireland's soul. He was Cuchulainn, he was Wolfe Tone, he was Moses all rolled into one, with the souls of the dead signatories of the Easter proclamation somehow imbued within him.

It's not fashionable to admit to admiring him, but if asked who I think was the greatest politician I can think of, it's De Valera I name. The man was canny.

The man LOST a civil war, then won power democratically and proceeded to overturn that loss. Fifteen years after the end of the Civil War, Ireland was indeed a republic. And to be fair, there was a lot could have gone wrong when Fianna Fail won the 1932 election. The IRA were ready to evict the Free State Garda from their police stations. But Dev refused to allow it. Dev preserved the rule of law.

And, bearing in mind that the troubles and the civil war were so recent, Ireland could have gone the way much of Europe did. Both the IRA and the Blueshirts marched the streets. Whatever is said about Dev, he did resist the urge to make himself a dictator.

Not that he needed to. Ireland was quite happy to obey.
And I guess this is what is held against him. For under him, Ireland was a very draconian place, not much better than South Africa in some ways; harshest censorship laws in the world, the Magdalen homes, protectionism, etc.
And people forget that whilst Catholics had a hard time in the six counties, Dev's Ireland was definitely a land where Irish Protestants felt the cold.

One can feel a certain sectarian pride in Dev's proclaiming 'We have a Catholic Government for a Catholic people', but it certainly didn't help cross border relations.

Of course, history will judge him hardest for his actions in the war. People forget that in reality, Dev gave a fair bit of assistance to the Allies, though arguably, he had little choice. The Germans weren't a threat to Irish neutrality, whereas Churchill always made clear if Dev became a real thorn in his side, he could expect troops to appear.

But where Dev really made a faux pas, was in visiting the German embassy in 1945, to offer condolences for the death of the German Head of State.
Diplomatically correct, I suppose, for a declared neutral country.

Except this wasn't just another Head of State...

And yet.
Would Ireland be the strong, proud, wealthy Ireland of today if Dev hadn't proved to the world, that Ireland, even with her richest counties severed from her, could go it alone?
Did not Dev make Ireland a nation once again?
Did he not get Irish men and women to define their Irishness, before deciding when he'd gone which bits they wanted to keep, and which bits not?

Ireland has finally removed itself from his shadow and tipped him off his pedestal.
But maybe, just maybe, it may erect one for him again, one day.

Wednesday 28 November 2007

Sales- How the Process Really Works

It's one of those funny jobs.
Tell people you are a doctor, they nod in respect.
Everyone needs doctors.

Tell them you're a salesman, they go 'Oh, Really?'
Well, in my case, no, they smile and say 'Of course. What else would you be?'

But we are not a respected profession.

'Profession????', I hear you say.
Yes, profession.

Paid liars, I hear you say.


Being a salesman involves very tight ethics indeed. Plus a lot of REAL skill. If you intend to survive.
And a bit more.

Time and time again, I have been at meetings where the issue of training has come up. It always will, because it's the kind of industry where the majority of people taken on by a company, don't last more than a month. And my point of view has been simple. It's not about training, it's about recruitment. Recruit the right people.
The job is 20% product knowledge, 30% strategic thinking, 50% personality.
The company can only influence the first part.
You cannot MAKE a salesman.

Because a really good salesman never lies.
A good salesman, is like a good lawyer.
A good lawyer cannot stand up in court and state something he knows to be false.
He states the facts concerning his client in the best light he can.
And a GOOD lawyer, acquits his client, with the TRUTH and the TRUTH alone.

Just as a good salesman, sells with the truth. He just knows how to package it.

It really is the easiest job in the world, if you can do it.
If you can't, I'm sure it must be Hell.

Now you cannot make a salesman, but you can teach him tricks of the trade. So here's the rules. And yes, let's call them ethics. Because that is what ethics are. Rules that govern our conduct, because life doesn't work unless you keep to guidelines.

  1. Never allow boundaries. Never be formal. If you are, you create barriers you yourself will have to dismantle. Be familiar from the moment you shake hands. A tiny minority will take umbrage. Who cares? In most cases, it saves you the 'John- I can call you John, can't I ?' later.
  2. Football and Flirting. Perfectly simple. Emote to them as people. If they are male, find out who they support, divert the conversation with a chat about how that team played at the weekend. And remember 'I thought you were unlucky' or 'Great win', MUST pass your lips. If they are female, drop the tone of your voice, be seductive (Never of course, take it further. It's purely business. It really IS unprofessional to meet customers in a personal capacity, if she sees it as more than a bit of fun, the company could loss credit. My friend The Baker made this mistake once; he had to keep seeing her for over a year for fear she'd kiss and tell)
  3. Make them sell to you. Don't go in there and preach to them. Your first comments should be totally irrelevant. 'Nice little office you have here.' 'Your receptionist is a little darling isn't she? How long have you had her?', that sort of thing. Then make them tell you what is they are looking for. Make them tell you what they want to be sold. Then, sell them back their own vision. They've told you what they want. You can either sell it to them, or you can't. Keep the probing, the open questions, the chit chat going as long as possible. You may well find that you haven't a cat in Hell's chance of selling them what you thought you were going to sell them, but they DO have a need you didn't expect- that you can satisfy.
  4. Never lie. Cover your back. A satisfied customer tells four business contacts. A DISsatisfied customer tells eleven. Fact. Never put yourself in a position where you are open to accusations of mis-selling. Before you close, remind them 'Of course, it IS my job to say this, but I DO think this is in your interests.' Why? Because it may not pan out. That's not your responsibility. But handle it right and even if it doesn't, they won't hold it against you- in fact they may STILL use your company even if the delivery doesn't initially deliver. Because they actually trust the salesman who sold them in the first place. Brutal honesty is actually the best tool a good salesman has. Why? Because sometimes you have to tell them straight; 'It's up to you. What I'm offering you, means you can make three members of staff redundant. I can see why you hesitate- you like those particular three as people. You don't want to tell them that a new machine means you don't need them. I understand. It would be a hard decision for me too. How much do you want that cost saving? That's really what it boils down to.'
  5. Be you. That's the bottom line. Good salesmen are genuine people. Make it clear you are just doing your job. That way, they listen more, because they'd like you if they met you in the pub. Show them the person you are.
  6. Never lose control of the conversation. Use the principle of attack and lull. Talk as long as you want. Out of a half hour conversation, five minutes (if that) should be nitty gritty. The rest should be getting to know the man or woman you are talking to. Give them a bit of you and every now and then draw the conversation back with 'Anyway, you're a busy man/lady, so I don't want to waste your time...'.
  7. Know when to close. Know when you have enough information to block off their options. They have told you enough now, that now you tell them what you want them to buy, you can handle every objection they raise with the ammunition they themselves have given you.

Pictured above: Dizzy Bizzy, our slightly offbeat, but eminently foxy admin girl. (Yes she IS texting whilst hula-hooping, it's a real pleasure to watch.)

It really is one of the most beautiful jobs to do. Sometimes, I thank my lucky stars. So many, many people have to do such tedious jobs to get paid. Me? I do what I'd do if I wasn't at work. Chat to people.What better way to have money enter your bank account every month?

Monday 26 November 2007

The Happy Youth

He was young, he was foolish,
he thought the world was his.
He thought that he could party
for a hundred centuries.
He laughed, he played,
he loved the women long,
he danced until the morning,
singing his carefree song.

He took no heed of danger,
he laughed into its face,
he did not see them coming,
till he fell into disgrace.
They stripped him of his raiment,
and took away his name,
they nailed a number to his head
and revelled in his shame.

In the galleys of the slaves
a bitter life he learned,
with the outcasts of the city,
whose hatred it had earned.
The murderer and the bandit,
for company he kept.
And watched his anger growing,
as the broken ones wept.

He learned to hold his temper,
to hide his thoughts within.
To give the pickpocket a growl,
and the whiphandler a grin.
He looked out across the sea,
remembering half-forgotten land,
and his nerves grew hard as steel
as he tried to understand.

His heart grew cold within him,
his lust for life burned down,
the laugh, the smile, the tousled curls,
lost to matted locks and frown.
No hope, no life no dignity,
no pride left in his name.
Only a back embedded with lashes,
living his life of shame.

And one day, when the Emperor died,
a glorious amnesty!
Slaves chained up for pleasure seeking,
might happily roam free.
and back home to the city,
that once carefree boy did go,
to find solace in a mug of ale
and women he might know.

But the cloud was upon his brow,
no laughter did he find.
The creak of the oar, the crack of the whip,
did echo in his mind.
No peace at sea, no peace on land,
no happiness for he,
the image of a beaten corpse,
flung into the sea.

He sat upon the benches,
in the tavern in the gloom,
a stranger to the dancing,
his head full of the doom,
The twinkle in their eyes,
the youths and maidens bore,
did strike a chord within him,
where had he seen that before?

Alone upon the seashore,
he stared into the foam,
the galleys he cringed in fear of,
the city no longer home.
He shivered in his being,
as he turned towards his path,
and wrapping his cloak around him,
gave a bitter laugh.

I just wanted to say, because I don't think I've said it before, just how important to me each and everyone of you who come here is to me.
I often talk about people important in my life, but I forget to mention some of the obvious ones. All of you.


Sunday 25 November 2007

Constructive Opposition- Time to Assert Ourselves as Human

Well, I'm glad you all had faith in life.
That's good- question is, how much?

Having faith in life means living YOUR life how YOU want to lead it.
Not the life others choose to impose on you.

Having faith in life, means standing up and doing something positive.
Now maybe there isn't much we can do. But we acknowledge reality.

We aren't governed by our consent. That's a myth. The political establushment is pretty self selecting, with a controlled voting system, manipulated by the telescreen. If they actually asked US the people, most of the decisions most governments make woul not be made, and many of their laws would not be passed.
And we the people would probably repeal a few existing ones as well.

The law in general is held in widespread contempt, largely because large parts of it do NOT represent popular feeling.
And we are the lucky ones. Those of us living in places like the UK, or the US, or Australia, or Canada, or Sweden, or Malaysia, most of the countries regular readers come from, rich countries which can afford to hide the iron fist in a velvet glove, because most of us can be bought with bribes.

What are we, a tenth of the global population, us First Worlders?

And what can we do?
Not a lot.

Until the economy collapses, the political establishment will hold sway as it is, subsidised one way or another by the wealth of theworld, the hidden CEOs whose names grace the finance sections of the Telegraph, but only become household names when their companies do an ENRON. The real rulers of the globe.

Until then, Nulab and Blulab, Republocrat and Democan, the same establishment, different colours, will play musical chairs and make us think we have popular sovereignty.

Marches will do nothing. Protests will do nothing.
They disarmed the people long ago- but armed themselves.
Until the whole people come out fighting, they have us, divide and conquer.

Oh, but you can change the world in different ways.
You could have Live Aid every week, while business interests prop up corrupt dictators and arm them to keep the Third World down for them, it will stay the Third world.
It stays the Third World, so that we can be the First World.

Revolutions come when the time is right. The time WILL come.

So what can we do NOW?

Well, we can prepare. Knowing that the system WILL come down, and knowing that it WILL be bloody, that the haves WILL use the armed behind them to mow their own people down in the streets- not just disaffected mobs, but YOU when you find that money no longer exists and there is no food in the supermarkets, because the whole infrastructure has ground to a halt, knowing that this will come, that times of trouble are ahead, we can start talking about what WE will do.

That's our responsibility. And we are lucky. Here is a medium where we can do just that.
It doesn't matter if you call yourself left or right, or you if you don't give a damn about politics. Politics has been allowed to become too exclusive. What it's really about is ALL our lives, and those of our descendants. So we should ALL be talking.

What do we want for the future?
What sort of world do we want to rise from the ashes of Western Liberal Capitalism?

We are lucky. We are intelligent people on a medium which allows us to share our ideas, to have serous discussions. Here, on the bloggosphere, we can create a REAL debating chamber that makes those fake debating chambers that pretend to represent us look like the cardboard shams that they are.

We should not waste that. This is too precious.

And what else can we do?
Well, the rest is offline. The rest is in you. Live the life YOU believe to be right.
That's easier said than done. To commit to something NOT seen favourably by the establishment, is harder than to commit to something approved by it.

But it has to be done, if you are to lead a fulfilling life. You cannot beat the system, but you can stand up and live the life you want to lead within it.
Do not be afriad to scandalise society. If you really believe what you believe, you will sell your message by the way you lead your life.

Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's, work hard, pay the system off and live your life in open defiance of it's values.

Never forget that you are not governed by consent, but by acceptance. Use passive resistance all the way, until the day we really CAN fight and get rid of these power matrices once and for all.

And me?
Well, I shall be working hard at my job, trying to get loads of bonus, get a successful career, all with the long term objective of being in a better position to do what little I can, to be some influence on the future.

I shall continue to spread my thoughts and opinions, to the little coterie which listens at the pub, to those who I meet at parties, to those who read this blog. That's how the word gets spread.
Great Oaks from little acorns are grown.

And of course, I still need to find Ms Right to join with me in openly sticking up two fingers to social convention. Faithful, hopefully not, but LOYAL, yes.

The search for my Julia has begun.

So there you are. My lifeplan.

Life's too short to live by other people's rules.

So let's start now. Let's start thinking what world we want for the future and discuss it like adults, adults whose views count. Let's sieze this opportunity we have, we all invest so much time in it, let's make it worth something.

Let's treat this properly, not as an internet chatroom.
Let's not degrade it in the way we treat it.
Let's not get bogged down in trivialities, or disputes which relate to personal matters.

Let this be the greatest forum for civilised, intelligent discussion the world has seen.
Let future generations look back at our ovine submission to INGSOC and say, 'Well, at least they blogged.'

At least our lives won't have been a complete waste.
Because to just meekly accept, roll over and let them tickle our stomachs like a dog rolling over for it's master, is not what MEN or WOMEN are made of.

If we do not fight with every reasonable means legitimately available to us, we are cowards and failures and we betray every sacrifice made in the struggle for human progress. We cannot allow anything else to matter to us. We have a duty to our descendants.

Our resistance is HERE.
Our resistance is NOW.

Let's lead the way.

Because to stop us, they have to show their true colours.

Better to die shouting for freedom, then to live as slaves to this useless shower, who; with all the wealth of the world, and the labour and intelligence of six billion, cannot even put food in the mouths of all it's people, when there is LITERALLY food to burn; who can't protect the lives of it's people, unless they are permanently watched by security camera; who cannot be bothered to create infrastructure over much of the surface of THIS world, let alone bother looking at realistic ways to find new homes for our burgeoning population; who create imaginary terror networks to divert our eyes from their ineptitude and their desire to hold what they have.

Posterity will judge us on what little each of us did.

What matters most?
Are you going to resist as far as you can, being a useful member of society (because at the end of the day, you are resisting FOR society), or rollover and purr acceptance, because it's easier and you might get brownie points?

Have your say!

Pink Floyd

If you have never really listened to the Floyd, and only know them through Another Brick in the Wall (Part Three), you are missing out.
Here's some of their best.

That was, The Machine, from probably their best album, Wish You were Here. It's a short album, only five tracks long, but already showcasing that Floyd invention, that of tracks that connect into eachother.

The second track here, is from The Wall. It's quite dark if you listen to the lyrics,but it is beautiful, all the same.

Lastly, we have a track all about the place where Blair will go when he retires. The video is quite amusing, although I have no idea where it comes from.

Pink Floyd were truly great- or certainly, the four albums of the seventies and early eighties, Dark Side of the Moon, Wish You were Here, the Wall and The Final Cut are operatic in their intensity, mood creating in a way that would make Mozart cry.

At their peak, they sold their message far more effectively than so many groups with a socio/political message. Their lyrics ever clever, subtle, you listen, absorb and ponder.

I recommend listening to any one of these albums, if you have a couple of hours free. But please, if you are going to listen to the Floyd, it has to be done properly.

Get yourself a drink, do anything else you might want to do to get in the mood and lie back on the sofa, eyes shut. Turn your phones off and make sure no one is coming round.

And just listen, from start to finish. No track skipping, no pausing, no leaving the room.

Let the Floyd in.

Saturday 24 November 2007

Steve McLaren and Other Issues

Jeremy has tagged me to say what is wrong with the England football team.

Well, to be fair, McLaren was pretty useless. He will surely go down in history less favourably as England Coach than Graham Taylor did.
Which takes some doing.

But really, the problem is in how England treats its national team. We don't really take it seriously. Even when we do qualify, most of those we rely on have been injured in club football (imagine if Gerrard had been there in 2002).

We chop and change our squad, players don't get used to playing with eachother, good players get left out because of the England tradition of only bothering to watch certain clubs (Owen Hargreaves is a case in point- severly under-rated player, mainly because you have to go to Germany to watch him.

And fact is, we play complacently. With no heart.

England strategy for years was; piss around on the pitch, and wait for the ref to award a free kick. Beckham will score, job done.
This really seemed to be IT.
Goals in open play, not really an England thing. Owen did them now and then, but let's face it, when he doesn't score, he doesn't actually contribute much to the REST of the game. He's just an amazing goalscorer.

And when got a one goal lead, we never pushed it. Tradition was to run around aimlessly, giving away possession, till the other side equalised.

During the last world cup, I was forced to concede, that did I not live here, I wouldn't bother watching England. They just don't play INTERESTING football, or PASSIONATE football. There were so many great games in that tournament- we played none of them.

The rot lies deep, and it's in attitude.

For example, how many tournaments since penalty shoot outs came in, have we LOST to penalty shoot outs? Four or five, at least. We've never WON a penalty shoot out.
But that's how we tend to leave tournaments.

So... Why has penalty shoot out training STILL not become a feature of England's training regime?

Still. At least now, we might sort our act out for the world cup.

I sincerely hope that a particular premiership team, looking for a new manager, does not pick McLaren, however.

Anyway, I'm pretty tired- The Baker's mother had her fiftieth birthday party last night. It was quite a big occasion.

Had a long conversation with Mrs Chimney Sweep. I think she does love him. Perhaps I should be less suspicious. It's hard to be sure. But we had a fairly frank conversation.

On another note, The Baker is really not happy about this blog right now.

Let's just say, a recent post was read by someone I didn't think read the blog- though I knew they knew of it's existence.
That person brought a letter round, by hand. I'm not sure why they thought I'd be in at ten to five, but someone was. The Baker, who had a couple of days off work, to join my flatmate at her first scan. So they talked to The Baker.
I read the letter, and left open by this PC.
Of course, the following day, The Baker was working on the PC, and saw the letter wide open. Absent minded? Yes, that's me.
And he read the letter in question.

He didn't say anything until we are at the party, when he pointed out I looked stressed and said he knew why.

The points he had to make were these.

  1. Regardless of my views on the subject, at some points hatchets have to be buried. Maybe I should make some effort in this department. After all, he said, my general approach to this person completely contradicted every principle I hold, and is also completely out of character, compared to the way I treat most other people. He may have a point here.
  2. The other, wider point, was his annoyance at allowing an online issue to affect real life. I've been told that once he's moved down here, I'm not being allowed to spend so much time blogging. Or on blogging related tasks. I pointed out that I thought the crisis was pretty much over, and therefore I couldn't see any further issues arising. I fully expected to be able to fit blogging into two hours a night. I get the impression this time limit will be rigidly enforced- especially at weekends.

Well, I don't know. I've not really been able to devote proper time to it of late, nor have posts strictly followed the plan. Several have been spur of the moment ones, usually leading off on complete tangents, not relevant really to anything I'm trying to say here.
I've also been a pisspoor blog visitor, during this recent period. Not visited many of you, or not as often as I'd have liked. Not gone into depth in my comments- and been sloppy at replying to your comments here.

I'm pretty sure we can get back to business as usual, in a way I can post daily, visit every blog on my rolls, at least once every two to three days, the bestest of the best more than that of course, deal with any other blog related commitments that come up, reply to e-mails etc, and still be done with plenty of time for RL commitments.

So to summarise.
Crisis over, introspective drivel over, bad visiting habits over, blog returns to its orginal plan.
So that's Music post tomorrow, new poll on Monday, sequel to the two pevious posts Tuesday.

See you then.

Thursday 22 November 2007

Evolution- The Only Way Is Up

Life- Where's it going?
Why are we here?

Simple. The universe favours chain reactions. That's what life is.
Start it up, it starts off identical reactions (life cycles) in an ever increasing number. More energy spent. A good route, in the thermodynamic universe.

So, in the universe of life, what is BEST, wins. Every time.
That's you. OK, you're not rich. But you are member of that tiny percentage of organisms who are on a winning streak. And in the best group of the lot- those whose genetic descendants stand the best chance of conquering the universe.

That's YOU.

Why? How?

Because of the need to keep the reaction going, the cycle going.

Early life molecules, reacted against eachother. Those survived best, which could take fuel from NEIGHBOURING reactions, giving themselves more time to fuel THEMSELVES.

The first predators.

And so, in one group survival became about being best at seizing the forms and life of others.
The first speciation.
The first war.

And so on, for two billion years.

Till one day, a species of bacteria went further. it buried into its victim. It took over it's entire form. And controlled it.
The first parasite.
The first eukaryote.
The first... sex.

Because that is what is replicated in all eukaryote life. That invasion of one cell, by another. fertilisation. The starting process of all multi-cellular life.

Because those bodies, one cell driven by another, were strong.
they learned to combine with other such bodies.

And transmit themselves, eternally dividing, through the first organic superstructures.

Plants, Fungi and...

And for long these curious bodies just swum in the ocean, processing carbon, or having their carbon assimilated into other bodies.


One day, a predator got too good.

Enter the Red Queen.

The Red Queen hypothesis, says that all life has to run to stand still.

Basically, the prey that gets captured, does not reproduce.
That which survives, does.

So the offspring of the escaping prey, is better at evading capture.

So predators that cannot catch the enhanced prey, die young.

Meaning that the next generation descends from predators BETTER at catching the CLEVERER prey.
The evolutionary arms race.

And so on.
The land is free- those who flip on to it, cannot live on it, but risk it, catch untouched vegetation.
And one day, push evolution long enough, there exists creatures who CANNOT live OFF the land.

That's how it works.
Time, Pressure, Survival.
And yes, we are its finest product.

And no, it's not subjective.

Basic points of evolution.

The finest form is that most able to ensure it passes it's genes to the future for the longest period of time, before extinction. Ultimately, the most successful form, is the one ancestral to all alive at the latest point.

Well, that has to be us. We dictate which species live or die. Like it or not, we have that power.
If Earth-life spreads away from Earth, it will be us that causes that.

We are the result of four and a half billion years of mother nature, red in tooth and claw
We are GOOD. We are life, at it's pinnacle, in this star system, at least.

Ultimately, we have loyalty to ourselves.
To our genes.

To perpetuating our descendants.

That's why we are meant to care for eachother. Because we breed with eachother. And we need eachother.
Evolution, the universe, the laws of existence, favour humans bonking eachother like mad, and increasing exponentially.

Not limiting our births, but finding space for us.

We are so great, because we are the result of four billion years of life, seeking to live.

And we can only go forward.
Life forms, do take backward steps, but overall, life ALWAYS moves forward, overall the total amount of matter locked in it, the total amount of energy it expounds, ALWAYS increases.

Oh, nematode worms, are the most numerous, individual for individual.
But human bodymass, outnumbers ALL other body mass.

Our descendants- or some of them- will be beings beyond our comprehension.

We are going places.
And no, it doesn't matter about the rest.
Just us- that's all we need, what's in our heads.

Yes, worry about Earth- we live here, our survival matters.
But otherwise, it's ours. We ARE the lords of creation. What doesn't serve us, will join the sabre tooth tiger.

I'm aware that last paragraph, must have rubbed up a bad nerve. Yes, I can see why.

Because we all remember the last guys to sell THAT message.
But that's how they sold it. THAT'S the bit that got people to buy it.
Dirty message, Yes. But the kernel of truth they sold it on, shone.

So let's seize that kernel of truth, which died with their extermination camps, their depopulations, their warped, homo-erotic marches.

The bit that says, the energy in Man, was good.
Man IS good, and the more logical, more dynamic, more knowledgeable man IS the best. The bit that says, go for it, do it (or, might is right, it amounts the same, the strongest energy wins. So yes, if you think about like that, right ALWAYS wins- remember, the Nazis LOST)

Let's stop this pretence that 'protecting' the Andaman islanders, by enforced blockade, from civilised life, is anything other than treating human beings as zoo animals.

Man has every right to reach out to God's throne. Man IS what Man decides to be.

Vae Victis, folks.

Let that be our motto.

Wednesday 21 November 2007

Quantum Theology- How I think the Universe Works, and Why

I guess its about time to unify past sporadic posts on theology/physics theory and explain EXACTLY how I think the universe works, exactly the point of life is, how it is interpret that in a theistic way, and how this influences my overall life philosophy.

Firstly, let me explain that those who know me know me to be quite defensive about my Catholicism, though I'm sceptical about the literal truth of its claims.

Secondly- and this is why they are surprised, I'm pretty much an extreme rationalist. I tend to roll my eyes at the 'there's got to be something there' types, much as I would at a Scientologist. I rarely disagree with Dawkins, have no truck with anything I see as tradition for tradition's sake and no blind faith in anything. Much of worldview owes a lot to two of the most atheist philosophers you can think of, Messrs Marx and Nietzche.

But nevertheless, in my view the facts only permit of one possible interpretation. The universe IS conscious. It IS directed, and we are ALL part of that same consciousness, being driven on to serve one purpose.

And if one stands back and look at that one great movement, the one huge reaction burning away, that huge rising wave, still beginning it's upward curl, to the huge crest that lies so far in the future, we cannot comprehend what will have become, before the slow road down to its end, THAT reality, is something it is impossible not to feel privileged to part of.

OK. WE need to think logic here. What MUST exist? Our universe came from somewhere. But none of its properties need exist outside its existence.
So what does?
Only possible answer; an infinite amount of possibilities, the likes of which we cannot comprehend. But outside this existence, logically anything and everything possible to be conceived by UNLIMITED consciousness, exists.

What does that means? It's not worth trying to think about it. We can only ever hope to have understanding if one of the things that exist. This one. It exists, because all possibilities exist.
And everything that exists, must be solved.
By solved, I mean, if it is there, and begins, it most be soluble, because it is finite. Finite things have bounds.

This particularly reality, has the property that it is quantifiable. Do all realities? Meaningless question. All realities are unique.

This reality is solubale by being quantifiable. That is, it has quantity. It is composed of a finite sequence of quanta. As soon as it starts, it starts to solve itself.

That is what the laws of thermodynamics are, the solution. The universe just counts up all the quanta and uses them up.
There's nothing really that mysterious about the laws of thermodynamics- all they are is this;
At the start all the particles occupy the same position. At the end, they all need to sit in different ones. That's all that happens- the particles get separated.
So it starts with the initial expansion, separating them out.

But they are all going in different directions. How this happens, is every planck tick the universe moves each particle, at light speed, to an adjacent position. However it can not initially change their direction. They keep colliding. At this point, they occupy, for a planck tick, the same space, and need separating.

Fortunately, over time, the warping of space by the particles in it, allows some particles to get trapped in space itself, by going round on themselves in an ever decreasing trajectory until they get stuck- these locked particles manifest themselves as 'massed' particles.

And each planck tick the universe is able to look at the options ahead. These are the laws of thermodynamics. It WILL take quickest route. So yes, it has a huge amount of possibilities. But it NEVER makes the WRONG move- it will use the minimum amount of planck ticks to separate all the particles.

It uses the particles to help use eachother up. It evolves. It develops better and better chain reactions to accelerate its ability to solve itself down to nothing.

Stars, those huge chain reactions, using up untold numbers of atoms in their lives, the first masterstroke of a universe already conscious way beyond any intelligence we could ever conceive.

And on, how many times we cannot say- but surely not just here- to organic life. The chain reaction that would acquire consciousness. Consciousness able to help the universe achieve its aims. Because life would need to use up plenty of energy to enjoy the gift the universe gave it to serve its own ends.

The more life there is, the more energy is used up, faster. Using energy, is helping the universe solve itself.

The greater the destiny of life, the more the universe is solved.
Which is why, you can be sure, we were evolved with great things in mind.

And God? Well God, surely is the master of the universe.
The universe isn't quite going to let us master it, but I think it intends us to gain all its secrets and its power.

Certainly, the Gods of mythology will pale beside our descendants.

Tuesday 20 November 2007

Blue Monday- Or Tuesday

Can't believe I've not posted this one yet.

No post tonight.
Beer instead.

Proper post tomorrow.
On something political. Or philosophical. Or, well, something anyway.

Monkeys maybe?

Monday 19 November 2007

Oedipus and Jocasta- A Modern Tragedy

I guess life isn't simple. I have spent the last few months in a situation that completely defied reason. Where was the logical explanation for events?

Soul searching, well, as you can see, I've done a fair bit of that of late, but those of you who have been reading between the lines may have been wondering when (and if) I was going to mention exactly what it was that was torturing me and how this situation arose.

And it's taken me a while to come clean with myself about that.
Because beaten down and tired though I am, I am sure the one who beats me down and tortures me feels genuine pain.
Does she really believe the things she says about me?

That's the hurtful part. I know I'm not the person she describes. I know who I am.
And now I can see precisely what went wrong.

These things shouldn't really be online, it is true. But I guess, I have no choice.

Sometimes, people don't always realise what it is they wanted.

I suppose I had better start with some background, and for that, we have to go to the topics of conversation everyone in RL, knows I don't like to talk about.
If I talk of the years before University, it is only really school and my part-time jobs I talk about.

My home life, I try to forget.

It winds me up when people bang on about how good the nuclear family is.
Crap. If you think that it usually means one of two things. Either you REALLY were one of the lucky ones and copped two good 'uns, or you are still wandering through life in your parent's shadow, living the life THEY wanted you to lead.

Well, not everyone has it that lucky. Being able to pass on genes doesn't make an expert in bringing up children and many parents have no skills whatsoever in that department.

Both mine were poor. Not ones out of ten, that would have put them in the nonce category, but certainly neither of them scoring above five.

Oh, we were well fed, nice house, the 'concern', the close reading of school reports, the family meals, all that crap.

But we were additions to it. As if two years after the wedding, starting a family seemed an idea. Honeymoon, tick. Mortgage, tick. Part time job for the Mrs, Tick. Three piece Suite, tick. Kitchen, tick. Eldest son, tick.

My father always said that he never really knew his Dad and regretted that, because they never got to know eachother, though God knows they had years enough. The lived near eachother all their lives, my grandfather dieing of colon cancer in 1989, a year after retiring.
He was a workaholic and never saw his family. It wasn't a happy marriage.

Well, let's just say my father and I were never close. He was the sort of father you get nervous of, because he DOES believe in corporal punishment. Right up until I was big enough to belt him one.
After which point we just argued at eachother, and once I was old enough, I just used to walk out and go live with my Gran for a bit.

Even now, we don't speak much. My mother tends to ask me round once every couple of months on a day he's gone to his boat. We can't be together in the same room too long. He likes to bait me by choosing topics of conversations that will provoke me, such as why the country is over-run by 'inferior races', or why religion is irrational. Occasionally we do have a pint together- he's less confrontational in the pub.

So I'm closER to my mother. Don't get your hopes up.
My mother's mother left when she was two and she was fostered. Maternal instincts, she has few. She's not the sort of mother who you can talk to. Oh, you can have great conversations with her about Russian history, or the Lord of the Rings. The peculiarities of your love life, no.

I can remember one occasion in my life, when I know she was very worried for me, and she put her arms around me and cried.
It shocked me a bit.

I was 25. She'd never done that before.
Three words I've never heard from her lips. I. Love. You.

Does she? Of course she does, I can see that. Has she ever expressed it, as a mother would?
She can't. I don't hold that against her. I'm actually quite fond of her, though or reasons mentioned above, I only see her about six hours a year, for of a couple of hours at time. And of course, most Christmases.

But I don't straight away see her, the way others see their mothers. I could see that even as a child. You could see going to your friends houses, their relationship with their parents was more natural. The way these things appeared in films.
Sort of, the ET family.

I remember a few years ago, I read a passage in Morris about Maternal bonds.

Morris states that the hugely increased period humans spend with their parents, means that the maternal bond is cut later than in most primates. This means most people have a need, once having cut it, to find a similar bond. That ONE human being, they can always trust. Hence, human monogamy

Morris states that those why DON'T have this bond, or break it early, or pretty much unable to make monogamy work, or take any relationship seriously. Interestingly, he also noted that the lack of a support structure as a child, often means they develop heightened understanding of spatial and interpersonal relationships. In other words, they get used to building large networks of people to protect them, rather than relying on a single person.

Well, that's ME down to a 't'. I knew that as soon as I read it.
But there is something Morris overlooked. And I only understood myself due to recent events.

Yes, you have no real understanding of what it is like to have that bond. But didn't you always envy those who had casual, laughing, hugging, help-yourself-to-some lemonade, mothers?
How many times have you thought 'I would think, right now, I want my Mum. But I don't. What I wish is that she was the kind of Mum, I 'd want right now.'

How many times have you felt proud of some achievement and wished your Mum would ring you and get REALLY excited, not just the smiling nod you get when you tell her weeks later?

And it's dangerous.
I have been in two very strange RL relationships with women significantly older than me, which were based on two completely irreconcilable dynamics. I now realise that, I just wasn't honest with myself about it. The complete disinterest in sex on both occasions on my part tells me exactly what both those women were to me. Someone to hold you tight as you sleep, stroke your head and tell you it was going to be OK. At those occasions in my life, that's what I wanted. You are culturally conditioned. Every man has a mother who will always care for them.

And you don't realise what it is you are really doing. In the case of the second, I pretty much declined sex most of the time, so my best mate saw on the side. It was no big secret. Though she was disconcerted when she found I knew all along, had in fact given my consent before she started seeing him as well.

Well, in May this year, I ended up in phone conversation with someone on the internet. And something went badly wrong. Had any degree of logic been applied, or objective analysis, alarm bells would have rung in my head. Because what happened next, ended up causing two people a lot of harm.

You see, this is where, to be fair, it gets a bit dark. Too much phone conversation about Nietzche, in which you also bare your soul to a total strange, with a lovely, caring, I-want-to-hold-you-tight-and-look-after-you voice can be dangerous. You're starting to really face a crossroads in your life, and then it happens.

The Love you've looked for all your life.
But not THAT type.
The other one.

I said I Love You. I meant it, I can see that now. But I can also see, that I was using a meaning that hadn't occurred to me. I was saying how I felt, it was completely illogical, and I should have thought about what it was that I was saying.

But it WAS a powerful feeling, and one COMPLETELY different to the many other times have thought I've been in love.

It was 'Will you be my mother?' Love.

Someone to call and say they love you. Someone to listen, hear all the stuff you WANT to tell your mother. And I did. I told her EVERYTHING I wanted to tell my mother. I told her all the sh*t, my mother doesn't know. I told her my fetishisms, my fantasies, my fears, the worst stuff I could think of, hoping that she'd still be listening, a tear in her eye, the unconditional love of a mother.

And she was.

Did I feel gratitude to her? Yes.
For weeks I just carried in this. It was unique, like nothing I've felt before.
Which should have been the giveaway. this was something wildly different.

Those of you who Do really have a maternal bond, imagine that bond. Now imagine you FELL into it.
Because that's what happened here.

But I couldn't see it.

Of course, after a while the novelty of actually having a mother, wears off. Your real mother calls you once a month, not every day, and she has no involvement in your social activities.
It only occurred to me recently, that the real divergence on viewpoint on so many things between me and this person boil down basically to the different roles we were playing for eachother.

I don't think I ever saw her, as anything other than a mother, not really. I get annoyed if my grandmother rings me. Because she would ring me non stop if she had the number, I call her once a fortnight to see if she is OK, knowing she doesn't know 1471. I won't give her a contact number.

Fact is, after a while, I didn't need a Mum to cry to any more. It was a confused time. She was saying, have your feelings changed, I was saying 'Please don't call me.' I guess she was confused. It must have seemed to make no sense, that you love someone, in a way that really makes no sense, because you don't want them to contact you, comment on your blog, or otherwise hear from them.

Because you wouldn't your mother to call you, uninvited. You call mothers, they don't call you. You don't tell your mother all the things you do, she doesn't expect you to. And you certainly wouldn't want her commenting at your blog.

And that's those of you who get on with their mothers.
Of course, I still didn't get this myself, really.

Suffice to say, Me and Mum fell out, many times. First was because Mum didn't like my female friends online. And then, oh, let's not go in to it. Suffice to say, there was always the danger she could get angry and publish my real name, at which point, my life would be ruined, ot at least the most important point in it, that this blog remains eternally separate from the name of its author.

And this is what never made sense to me. I knew talking to her was dangerous, I knew it was only putting off something inevitable, but I couldn't see what.

And she'd calm me down, the soothing voice of the mother.
And she meant it. I think, for her too, it was a mother's love.

And that was what I wanted.
And so it carried on. You'd go to bed, thinking 'But when does this end?', after telling her you still loved her, when what you meant was 'Thankyou Mum, for scaring away the woman who was scaring me earlier.'

The Baker finally put a halt to it, the phone calls anyway. He didn't put his finger on it, but he was pretty livid about the whole mess, and said I should have told him.

I think he sussed what was going on, because he did say in a roundabout way 'I can see how it happened, in that respect, you can be...unusually needy. You need to stop it, Crushed. Be honest with yourself.'

And so, I tried to. But it never quite worked. I didn't really understand what it was I was trying to say. I couldn't handle the situation, that's for sure. It just seemed impossible to draw it to an amicable close- all I wanted by this point.

Because yes, I wanted her to leave me alone. But I also wanted her to hold me tight and say 'It's going to be alright. You can face the world now. Your Mum listened to you.'

And so, to the closest woman to love me as a mother would, from the son my mother never had, Sorry.

Can't we just leave it be, and stop hurting eachother?

Sunday 18 November 2007

Dedicated to the Female Artist

Although ninety percent of the Music I listen to is by male artists (This is kind of inevitable, really, we listen to music that talks to US), there is a small group of female vocalists I enjoy listening to, because I like what their music has to say.

First up, is the lovely Siobhan Fahey, definitely MY type of woman, ALL woman...

I suppose I quite like this next track by Portishead, for the simple reason, it's as erotic as you can get. It makes me feel all...tingly.

And, oh Ms Manson, do you want to tug my heart strings any harder?

There is nothing like seeing into the heart of a woman's passion as it spills from her loins, out through her lips...

I guess us guys will never truly understand them, but God, they are amazing.

Saturday 17 November 2007

If Thou Would'st Man Know, First, Know Thyself

Sometimes, what can't be cured, must be endured.
The Baker always reminds me that both of us make the mistake of thinking everyone else thinks the way we do.
They don't. We are very similar in so many ways, we think so similarly, behave so similarly in given situations, in spite of many character differences, that we both feel comfortable in eachothers company in a way beyond the way most married couples do, I think.

But everybody is different. It took me a while to realise that several other types of genes than the ones myself and The Baker possess are making their way through humanity. And those genes make their owners have completely diffeent life strategies.

For long, I never realised which group it was I belonged to. I guess your parents never realise that genes might activate themselves in you, that were never active in them. That somehow, you would inherit an unusual genetic combination, one that would put you in a very unusual group of males.

And it IS an unusual group. It is only when you finally realise that you belong to that group, when you SEE what is that distinguishes you from all the rest, that suddenly you understand.

Being a member of this group, is a curse as much as a blessing. Membership means that you will never really understand those outside, nor they you. Your life strategy, the one you cannot HELP BUT have, that is how you are built, is so opposite to theirs.

There are many types of intelligence. There is straight forward academic intelligence. This is what I was told I had as a child, just that I was bone idle.
Both those facts are patently false.

Fact is, try and give me three sheets of accounts to work out and I won't be able to do it. I'm not very good with things like that. Or those games where you have to look at a set of objects, then look at the same set of objects and say which have gone.

Yet, watch the General Election on TV, I can remember every seat that changed hands.
Watch a football tournament, I understand the relationships of all the teams and what each game means interms of the overall table better than the commentators, without even having to look at the tables.

The reason, is I dont store data (as I realised) the same way a lot of academically bright people do. I don't remember words, so much as images and their spatial relationship. I remember tables as coloured structures. Evey fact I pick up, gets assimilated into a huge mental mindmap of every fact I know. Hence I can always retrieve relevant facts at will. Facts have a FEEL, a COLOUR.

Not just facts one reads, but facts one gains in everyday life. Basically, I store data more efficiently and process it much faster than most other people. I'm not being vain. It's fact.

Crucially, this is the difference between the sort of intelligence I am talking about and standard academic intelligence. It's my mental system for storing and processing information that is efficient.

What that means is, I have fast reaction times. Very fast.

I'm able to pick things up about body language, the way people stand, the way the walk, their intonation, and assimilate that data, in a way a lot of people don't.

What does this MEAN?

Well, it explains a lot.

In appearance, I look like a little hobbit. I'm pretty tiny and have some quite girly mannerisms.
But I've not been in a physical fight since I was nineteen.
Now I'd like to say, that's because I'm such a calm, non-confrontational person. But that's not quite true. I have found myself in pretty confrontational situations. I have got out of them by using conciliatory language and gestures, but significantly (and I only recently conceded this), by looking the other person in the eye, with one hand held up, whilst the other arm was tensed.

So what am I doing here?
I actually only twigged this a couple of weeks ago. Your eyes are telling the other party 'You may be bigger than me, but I'm quicker than you. You may be able to knock the sh*t out of me. You won't get time. Move along, mate. It ain't worth it.'

And this explains everything. Because you walk into every room, subconsciously knowing that. Physically, you have no fear.

But it goes further. You know from experience, that no matter what is thrown at you, you will find a way.
Others may save for a rainy day. It scares them that one day the cash till will say 'No funds available to withdraw.'

It doesn't worry you. Should that day come, as it has many times, you know you can find a way before bedtime.

Others may seek to find a person to share their life with. It doesn't worry you. You can strike up a conversation with anyone, you have absolutely no fear of people. That initial uneasiness that other people have when they first meet, that shyness of strangers, you don't have that.

Invest is not a word you know.
Tomorrow is not a word you know.

There is no reason to live for any other day than today. That REALLY is YOUR best life strategy.
Because by not fearing, you get the prizes others dread to grab. And they hate you for it.
Because even when you lose, you win.
You get the beautiful satisfaction of putting yourself to the test and winning.

And that's what takes us through life. People see us for what we are, we love generously, because we can afford to give it, we put our friends first, because it's them we need, it's LIFE we need, and we never get enough of it.

Men instinctively like us, because we approach them and make them our friends, saving them the work. We like to be liked, we like to be needed. That, after all, is where we feel happiest. In the thick of life.

And the Women? Oh, most of those who meet us can see what we are. We love them with all our hearts, each and everyone of them, but homemaker material, we ain't.

We are the type that women like for flings, not for marriage. Their genes want us to slip a little cuckoo into the marital bed, so their genes can also have the chance to try their luck with the compulsive risktaker genes.

We survive and are perpetuated, because our genes dictate it. That peculiar combination of high mental energy, conceptual intelligence and strong ability to communicate, are genes that are wanted. We will keep being born, because we carry those genes.

That doesn't mean they serve us very well.

One in every pack is fine, but we don't live like that any more.
And in normal every day life, it is the saver for the rainy day, the homemaker, the plodder, the person careful with their paperwork who gets rewarded.

Most of us, the compulsive risktakers, gamble the odds, and though we survive and live in our own way, we can't all win.

We make our own bargains with society. Some see a door of opportunity and sieze it, a REAL chance to play the game for the big spoils, and win. Most of us live a precarious existence, spending what we earn as soon as we have it.
We miss the cold breeze of the savannah, as we looked out and planned how to stampede the antelopes over the precipice.

We're no good at kowtowing, at fitting in, at knowing our place. We are tolerated, but 'not team players', because ultimately we don't like being told what to do and see every person who attempts to force their will on ours as an enemy. We co-operate with the system, because we are not stupid, but we are not easy cogs in it.

We search eternally, scanning those we meet, seeking those who see things as we do, kindred spirits in the world we can see.
The way we think makes us see it. Because we aren't planning for our tomorrow, we aren't lost in the details, we are looking at the world we see, a world that can never offer us enough.

There are many of us. Our eyes meet across bars and we graduate towards eachother. It's something you cannot understand, unless you are one of us. We'll probably hug eachother before we introduce ourselves. That's the people we are, and we recognised another immediately.
The conversation will then be a whirlwind conversation, no trivialities, straight to the deep stuff.

We are highly emotional, highly susceptible to eroticism, often have bisexual leanings and usually have sexual peccadilos slightly outside the norm. In my case, that's a fascination with the concept of being cuckolded.

We are Tyler Durden, we are Dorian Grey, we are Frodo Baggins, we are Ulysses.

From our character type came the Good and the Bad, the prophet and tyrant. Thus, no doubt, was Jesus. Thus too, Jim Morrison, The Buddha, Mohammed, Hitler.
Most of us, of course don't have their talents, either way. Just the same character type.

You cannot say to us 'Why can't you be happy? Why can't you just have a normal life?'

Our lives are not normal. We just aren't normal.
Unless you think like us, you can have no conception of it. Because we seek what everyone flees. And we flee everything you seek.

And the longer we live, the greater the divergence becomes. We are always at the centre of the crowd, always alone in it.
We love and are loved, but not the way others do. To love us, is to accept a distant kind of love. You'll never share our lives, just join us on the journey.

Chaos, disruption, suffering. Those seem to be inevitable for us. We sought them out, we found them, we endured them, we live yet.
But with the shadow on our brows.

But do not misrepresent us. We are not dark people, any more than you. We love as much as you, more, far more, we are genuinely emotional people.
But just don't expect it be exclusive.

And just because we're intelligent and good communicators and have the capabilities- should we choose to use them- to manipulate people, that doesn't mean that every interaction we have, is of that nature.
To manipulate, you have to stop and think- we do less of that than the rest of you. We ARE genuine far more often than the rest of you.

We're not devious, or heartless, or psychotic, or predatory or any one of those insults that vindictive types like to throw at people like us. These insults hurt, they hurt because they could only be made by those who don't get us. We do love, in a way most people don't get, because they don't love that way. We crave interaction, contact, both mental and physical. We love as much as we can, as many people as we can.

But you can hurt us, just as you can any other.

It took me many years to acknowledge this as my basic character type. And more, be comfortable with it. To know this as my lot, for good or ill. To look myself in the mirror and understand the man I was.

And LIKE it.

But recently, I have had another battle. A long tortuous persecution, the like of which you could never begin to comprehend. To be honest, it almost drove me to a nervous breakdown.
Is it over? God alone knows. To be honest, I don't really care. I'm just rising above it now. I can look myself in the mirror with a clear conscience.

What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger.

And now I see how lucky I am. I've lived through Hell and come through.
Unless we are talking about the torturers of the Spanish Inquisition, I can't see what worse life could throw my way than it already did. And I went through all that for no good reason.

Am I prepared to accept every day for the rest of my life, as a day of suffering, of sweat, of anguish?
Am I prepared to spend every day of the rest of my life ALMOST at breaking point, mentally and physically?
To serve a higher purpose?

Yes, I think I am.

To the person who put me through this Hell over the past two months.

I'm going to do something useful with my life. In spite of you.

Friday 16 November 2007

Heaven Is Not Enough

Sorry James.

I know you won't agree.
But I think we need to really look at the whole promise of salvation.

WHO are you living for?


Oh, virtue. Virtue.
A text book situation to tell enlightened animals how to behave.

Oh, with a bribe.
An afterlife.

Can't you see the paradox?
Can't you see the dark side of Christ's message?
Can't you see the bit where he TELLS those who REALLY listen what the logical truth is?

He sold his message to a nasty culture. Watch The Passion of Christ.

Man, capable of building cities.
Man, capable of enslaving millions.
Man capable of making gold ornaments.

But Man, capable of taking a man, who only ever preached Love, and nailing him to two bits of wood and watching him die.

Not a society which would get what he saw.
So he told us his message.

And bribed us with a lie. Because all we understood, was bargains.

Accept my message, and spend eternity with God.
Or don't, and spend eternity in torment.

Because without that bribe, no one then would have bothered.
That eternity afterlife bit was the selling point.

So, yes THANK GOD, he used it.
Because it allows us now, who heard his real message from birth to take it in, in a way they couldn't.
Not the Heaven, Hell, afterlife stuff.
The real point.

And here it is.

You have a choice.

You are saved, but every person close to you, every person you spent your life with, those who you embrace and hold tight, because they are your friends, the people whom this journey thrust you into, in a way you FELT them as people, that complete comfort in their company, that circle of those you would die for.
Every one of them, is damned.


You can save every one of them.
At the price of your own damnation.


THINK about that.
Think about your faith.

Because accepting the only answer to that, that YOU KNOW in your conscience, is the only one you can accept, means now you really know, whether you are good or evil.

Of THAT, I am surely convinced.

THAT is his message of Love.
THAT'S how far it must go.

The last piece of his puzzle. Do it, WITHOUT the bribe.
And in SPITE of the bribe.

Would YOU take on the sins of your fellow man?

The man SET US AN EXAMPLE. THAT'S his message.


Then no, you didn't actually LISTEN to what he said.

Thursday 15 November 2007

Confessions of Crushed

Yes Ok, I've done bad things in my life.

Badly behaved at primary school. Always being sent to the headmaster. Mainly for wondering around being disruptive, talking to people, reading when supposed to be working, bringing in toys, etc.

Worse after that. My parents in their infinite wisdom thought private education the way forward. No.
I got expelled at 13. For doing none of the Summer Holiday assignments.

Back to good old comprehensive education.

Yes I was a teenage tearaway too. Smoked, drank, did drugs.

Sorry to my parents for NOT getting into Oxford, I know you wanted it and you never forgave me for it.

My brother? Well, sorry for a LOT. Most of the swets you thought you lost, I nicked. Oh and your punchball that mysterious deflated. No mystery.
Oh and sorry for the time I hid all your clothes.

And the times I stitched you up in front of your mates.

My Grandmother, you stuck by me when you were the only relative who gave a damn. You didn't get much back, and still don't.

Your faith in me kept me going most of the years up till eighteen, and has still meant so much ever since. Knowing you have ONE family member you can actually talk to meant everything to me.

And since childhood?

I threw my degree course by pretty much total non attendance. I did graduate, but not with accolades, that's for sure.
Very much NOT the studious student.

Imagine a kind of squat, covered in empty takeaway boxes, pounding dance music playing, a circle of stoners playing Worms on the playstation amidst cloud of smoke.
Imagine a student pub.

OK, you've seen the two main scenes of my student life.
Although there were times I put on a suit and was politically active. I learned leading a double life early.

Sorry to Joanna, for the way I handled our breakup. Sorry to the person I treated as a personal slave for three years. Sorry to the people who went round sorting my messes out for me. Sorry to those I invented nicknanmes for that stuck. Sorry for those who had their lives made a misery by what I saw as funny.

And after graduation?
Total double life.

Crushed the hard working salesman, bit of a barrowboy in some ways, not strictly professional in attitude, but ideally suited to that line of work.

And Crushed the pill popping, Coke snorting hard clubber and party goer.

Crushed the camp, flirty little whore who kissed the boys and made them cry and spent slightly longer with the girls before he did the same.

I'm sorry. Sorry for that reckless, selfish way of life. I didn't care. I'd been hurt in love, and so I didn't care who I hurt.

Sorry to the person who fell so much in love with me, she even convinced me that I loved her enough to marry her. Sorry for the two year hell that was our relationship. Sorry for not being able to handle you. Sorry for blanking you out. Sorry for seeing other women, sorry for not telling you how I felt, sorry for the rows, the walking out, the selfishness.

Sorry to all the people I dragged into my wake. Sorry to those women I made promises to I was sincere about, but never followed through on. Sorry to those colleagues I've exploited. Sorry for those who had their lives disrupted by my thoughtless self indulgences.

And sorry to EVERYBODY for the SPECTACULAR cock up of November 28th 2002 and subsequent events. Special sorry to those who warned me it would happen. I have only my own stupidity and recklessness to blame. And thanks again for all of you who stood by me then, through the ordeal that followed. Sometimes, your support made me feel almost heroic.

Though again, sorry for some of the things I had to do in those dark days.

Sorry to those since those days who have thought they could reach me. Sorry, that door is closed, only open to those who proved their worth during the dark times. No one else will ever come in. I'm sorry. I really thought that door could be broken down.
It can't. I will wake up in my sleep, three times a night at least, every night until I die, often pulling my ligaments causing me to scream out loud. And I'll never want to talk about the dreams I have that cause that.

Sorry for making you believe that you could be enough to ease my racing thoughts.
Nothing will. You can never see what I saw, nor ever fully comprehend the horrors that I know. You can be happy, I never can, not really. Sorry, because it took this blog to make me see that.

Sorry for trying to live a lie.

Sorry to those who try, really try, to get me to let them into my soul as much as they let me into theirs.

Sorry that it is only when I write this blog that I feel my soul to be free.

Sorry to my flatmate for not really talking about my worries, when she tells me EVERYTHING. Somehow, I think she knows them all anyway.

And, well, sorry.

Will I make more Cock ups, more mistakes?
Inevitable I guess.

But I am who I am.

And I LIKE who I am.
I'm not sorry in the least about that.

My conscience is clear.

I'm ready now.