A fascinating place
Unfortunately, I have a long history of failing. I know, I know…life is hard and we all fail from time to time. Its inevitable, because no one is perfect. But at the stage in life I am at right now, I will have to admit to myself that I’ve taken some really dumb decisions over the years.
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Iolo Technologies – IOLO is a scam.
Iolo Technologies Reviews and Complaints @ Pissed Consumer.
I had a bad experience with them and am unsure if they are a genuine company or not;they were it appeared on Dell’s website but Dell said it was a fake!
The Hidden Gifts of the Financial Crisis | Building Relationship Skills.
Worth looking at
http://www.nobelprize.org/mediaplayer/index.php?id=978
At the Nobel Prize Ceremony for one of our greatest writers
Beautiful
If I go I won’t tell you.
I’ll just disappear one day.
Like when a cigarette ,which seemed so long,
suddenly has become smaller
and you never noticed it
because you were talking
about the meaning of life
while life was somewhere else
blown away with your smoke
into the sky
and then dispersed
never quite visible again
but still floating on the breeze
hoping to be caught
in a butterfly net
but unable to communicate
except by flying.
If I go it will not be today
but it will be an ordinary day
no one will realise
that it’s that day
that the bird flies
from her nest
to go to a new place
only seeing the deserted nest
he realises,
my bird has flown
I love this poem
My MBTI Personality Type – MBTI Basics – The 16 MBTI Types
This is written by a woman who is a novelist.I like her style
More on privacy
http://gawker.com/5990395/if-you-wear-googles-new-glasses-you-are-an-asshole
Google glasses and other devices have many risks.why even cell phones can be used to take pics of you in a public lavatory.Or your family may take pics of you in the bath.Life is tough enough already…
Chomsky talks about Paulo Freire’s writing
http://www.theguardian.com/books/2005/sep/17/fiction.features
Lurie is one of my favorite authors.I recommend,The War Between the Tates for a start
In the USA and in the UK we find fewer people are studying the humanities.Here it is because of the economic climate.. people wish to study “useful” subjects.Literature won’t get you a job,perhaps.It only enables you to live better.Already in schools the study of Greek and Latin has almost gone.
Economics still gets students………. odd considering that economists did not forecast the recession but were up to their necks in mathematical models.Economicis not a science and cannot be.I believe it’s a branch of philosophy in a broad sense.
I admit I did not study what we called “The Arts” at University but most of my friends did.But I read poetry.I liked Auden greatly.I read all the great novels.I read Doris Lessing and Iris Murdoch.I read Evelyn Waugh/I even read Nabokov…. what a writer!And I read Shakespeare Plays.
But with the much higher fees,recession and other worries,fewer students will spend three years studying the humanities.Plumbing or Carpentry are better options
I am thinking of writing some new plays.
A Fit Plumber’s Nightly Schemes
Witches astir.
Ham to let.
Sing Fear.
Make up for the Mind
A Midsummer Balls Up.
The Emptiest.
Please defreeze me,let me grow.
A man without limits
Much Ado about Hacking.
As you Recycle it.
Julius Seized the Emails.
Fool Us and Squeeze Us.
Twelfth Fright.
Hacked to Death.
The Blaming of the Guru,
Prospero Not.
http://www.debate.org/opinions/are-the-arts-too-elitist
http://theamericanscholar.org/the-decline-of-the-english-department/?key=55705194
Don’t go to bed with an elephant
Don’t go to bed with a frog
Their skin is too cold
When they unfold
In need go to bed with a log.
Don’t go to bed with a cobra
Don’t go to bed with a worm
You will feel fear
When snakes come near.
You may go to bed but you’ll squirm.
Don’t go to bed with a tiger
Don’t go to bed with a lamb
You may feel warm
But not very calm
Lovers unite against spam.
Come to my bed in the morning
Come to my bed in the night.
I am very soft
When I am washed
Let’s snuggle up till we’re right
Your face is map enough for me ,
Your gaze,your smile,your frown,your glee.
And if I want to know the rest
The shape your posture‘s made is best
For showing what your life is now.
A look,a gesture all this show.
Till whom you are is then disclosed
And I am in your arms enrobed.
Love vanishes when analyzed,
And thinking too
by Love’s despised
Use the means to fit the end
And then I’ll be what you intend
Have you ever seen a witch or a Spirit pass by?Soon it will be Hallowe’en and it’s a strange time of the year.Some people feel and see more than others.
Stan was feeling sad because the clocks had turned back so it was dark at 4pm.His wife Mary was out on her old Raleigh with battery lit lights front and rear.Stan is very vulgar sometimes as it cheers him up.When Mary gets home he did say to her once,You need a light on your behind ….Mary,like the Queen,was not amused.
Emile Stan’s cat suggested they go for a walk before sunset and so off they went as they did so ofte.Stan wore an old green overcoat and a flat cap.Emile was running ahead as he was so excited.Sometimes he sat on the sturdy old man’s shoulder on a cat pad.
[On sale everywhere for two pounds ten and sixpence.]
Stan felt his spirits rise as he walked ,The sky was so beautiful striped in blue and peach just like it had been in the Holy Land when he went on a Pilgrimage with other old Catholics from Knittingham Cathedral
How lovely it would be to walk in the wood and feel crunchy leaves under his boots.[From Hotters ] And Emile liked to bury himself in the leaves and leap out as Stan went by.But as they approached the wood a strange sight met their eyes,,,
The trees were full but not with birds.They were full of cats.Big cats,fat cats,thin cats,pedigree cats,mixed race cats,cats of all colors and sized.You can imagine the effect of having a thousand or more cats’ eyes staring wildly at you in synchronized glares.Why,it was almost enough to send Stan running home for some brandy.
Emile went nearer.He spoke to a big black cat.What’s going on?,he mewed.You are in my territory,
The black cat looked at him with his round green eyes.
We are witches’ cats.We have come from all over Great Britain,excluding Northern Ireland as cats are not allowed on the boats now.[ no rats left]..Tomorrow is All Hallows Eve and we are accompanying our multi-ethnic ,multi colored witches on a grand flight over Knittingham…tonight we are having,The Big Sing… at midnight precisely.And then the Big Love In
Did you remember to change the time on your smartphone,asked Emile.All the cats began to giggle and laugh.
We don’t need phones or clocks.We go by the stars and the moon…though doubtless the witches have watches.
Do witches have watches?,Emile asked Stan,after telling him why the cats were there.
Old witches have watches,Stan murmured ,mesmerized by the vision of the cats swaying in the gale force winds.Thank God cats have fur,he thought lovingly.Why did he not have fur,he puzzled
Can we have a walk here or not ? he asked testily as the old do.
Well,Sir,do you recall a song from your childhood,If you go down to the woods today,you;’re sure of a big surprise.At your age,is your heart soft enough to stretch when you see five thousand cats…
I am sure I shall be ok as long as the Good Lord does not come here to feed them with five loaves and two fishes
All the cats laughed again.Stan was puzzled how they managed to stay in the trees with wind and giggles and a few scrapping and fighting as tom cats do when lady cats are near.
We are already full of fish supplied by all the local pet shops,markets and goldfish bowls!
How disgraceful, thought Stan,to eat pet goldfish.but owing to the number of crazy cats he decided to keep quiet…As he got nearer he saw a few cats smoking pipes..Well,I never knew cats smoked,he said to Emile.Maybe it’s magic mushrooms or coyote,the cat said cheekily
Do you mean peyote?,Stan said querulously.Coyote are animals…Ah,well.you get my drift,Emile replied. cheekily
What was most strange was why this big meeting was taking place in Knittingham.Then he remembered it was the center of the UK…that must be it.Most intriguing to see all these cats.A few even had tartan ribbons on as they were from Scotland.But how did they travel so far.No doubt it was all arranged by the Chief Wizard.
Somehow Stan and Emile felt self conscious as the cats were almost glaring at them,reminding Stan of an occasion when he and his wife had wandered by accident onto a remote beach for nude,suntanned men.The looks they gave the old folk were far from kind as they wore the usual anoraks, old trousers and sunhats.Even Emile had blue jeans and a mac!
So he and Emile turned round and headed for home… at least they were forewarned of the midnight concert they and Mary would hear.Stan made some tea with twice as many tea bags as usual.as he was concerned he might get PTSD or worse,maybe kittzoscreamia.This poor man was blessed with a very vivid imagination and weak. long nerves more suitable for an artist
.When Mary came in from the University he called out,,
We have had the most amazing day,Mary….But Mary was wearing a pointed black hat and cloak…. and a big smile.I know what you mean,Stan….I am just off to take a peek myself.She picked up her broomstick and rode away into the darkening sky.~to think one could be both a witch and a mathematician,,though numbers have a certain magic of their own for some humans and even some birds can count
Stan was teaching social statistics to a group of elderly neighbors.Since he was 109 it gave them all hope to see him demonstrating his prowess with various techniques.He was planning to do some logic and philosophy too.Annie was sitting by the door so she could answer the bell if any paramedics turned up for tea.
I’m not going to calculate ” the standard deviations” he murmured.”I just want you to grasp the general purpose.”
“Deviations,they’re not normal are they?” enquired his neighbor “Henry,an ex-English teacher.”So how can they be standard.It’s confusing..”
“Are you thinking of deviants?” Stan enquired calmly yet firmly.”Certainly not,at my age I’m a bit past that!””Still it adds a bit of excitement to the class.” he thought.
How do words in ordinary language relate to those in Statistics?”asked Henry kindly.
“They are just more precisely defined in statistics.To say someone is a deviant is a rather vague term.”
“No,it’s not!My neighbor is a deviant.He always dresses entirely in yellow.”
“Well,that must be hard to do.Certainly unusual.” Stan agreed boldly.
“But in another country that might be the norm.So it’s a matter of context.In statistics it’s more boring.There’s a formula.It’s totally independent of context.Have you ever wondered why so many mathematicians have more than a touch of Asperger’s syndrome?”
“No,it’s not something that wanders through my mind much”replied Henry
A shudder passed through the room at hearing the word “formula“,which perhaps they considered something of a deviant!Anything with letters and numbers mixed together is certainly not welcome in many people’s minds, along with their more unusual sexual tastes,desires and inclinations which were kept secret even from themselves in many cases.
“Time for tea.” called Annie,hoping to divert their attention.She carried in a platter of mouse sandwiches kindly donated by the local ambulance service and some iced Victoria sponge she and Stan had made
the day before.
“Just a quick word about next week.We’ll take a look at ratios and proportions and maybe see how that relates to the concept of rationality.”
“That sounds fun!” Annie called encouragingly.Henry decided to act on a deviant desire and fell onto her lap.”Oh,dear!” she gasped loudly as the chair collapsed under her.”Why can’t you be deviant at home?”
“My wife won’t let me!” He kindlily answered.
“And look,” Stan continued,”we’ll have to ring 999.This chair is in fragments.I thought for one day we’d be able to avoid calling them out!”
“Well,life is not controllable.” said a quiet but fierce looking lady with sharp green eyes.”That’s what makes it tolerable“
She then greedily consumed a large piece of iced cake .
“I can stand the thinking if the cake is good” she whispered to her shy friend Amy.
”That’s rather a feeble argument,”Amy retorted.”You can’t really compare cake and statistics.”
“I’ll compare anything I like!” the green-eyed woman snarled loudly.
“You do what you like but you must keep a sense of proportion!”
“Now then,have you rung 999?” Stan queried of Annie.”Yes,here they are,and they’ve got a stretcher for the chair!”
“Well,that’s certainly unusual,even deviant“,Stan thought anxiously to himself.”Where do they get their funding? Is there a fund for distributing money to help chairs which are not normal?
A good read
A telling tale
By Kenneth Justice
~Earlier this morning I was at coffee and sitting next to me was an older gentleman who was quietly reading. He’d actually been sitting next to me for the better part of an hour, minding his own business as he had some book he was deeply enthralled in…..when all-of-a-sudden a young guy who had been sitting on the other side of the coffee shop from us, got up, walked straight toward our tables and confronted the older man,
“Do you got a problem with me man!” the young guy barked
The older gentleman was startled (as was I) and in a bewildered voice said, “Excuse me?”
“I asked you what your problem with me was!” the young man continued,
“Uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about, I was just reading my book” said the old man.
And with that the young…
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| A snake came to my water-trough |
| On a hot, hot day, and I in pyjamas for the heat, |
| To drink there. |
| In the deep, strange-scented shade of the great dark carob tree |
| I came down the steps with my pitcher |
| And must wait, must stand and wait, for there he was at the trough before me. |
| He reached down from a fissure in the earth-wall in the gloom |
| And trailed his yellow-brown slackness soft-bellied down, over the edge of the stone trough |
| And rested his throat upon the stone bottom, |
| And where the water had dripped from the tap, in a small clearness, |
| He sipped with his straight mouth, |
| Softly drank through his straight gums, into his slack long body, |
| Silently. |
| Someone was before me at my water-trough, |
| And I, like a second-comer, waiting. |
| He lifted his head from his drinking, as cattle do, |
| And looked at me vaguely, as drinking cattle do, |
| And flickered his two-forked tongue from his lips, and mused a moment, |
| And stooped and drank a little more, |
| Being earth-brown, earth-golden from the burning bowels of the earth |
| On the day of Sicilian July, with Etna smoking. |
| The voice of my education said to me |
| He must be killed, |
| For in Sicily the black, black snakes are innocent, the gold are venomous. |
| And voices in me said, if you were a man |
| You would take a stick and break him now, and finish him off. |
| But must I confess how I liked him, |
| How glad I was he had come like a guest in quiet, to drink at my water-trough |
| And depart peaceful, pacified, and thankless, |
| Into the burning bowels of this earth ? |
| Was it cowardice, that I dared not kill him ? |
| Was it perversity, that I longed to talk to him ? |
| Was it humility, to feel so honoured ? |
| I felt so honoured. |
| And yet those voices : |
| If you were not afraid, you would kill him ! |
| And truly I was afraid, I was most afraid, |
| But even so, honoured still more |
| That he should seek my hospitality |
| From out the dark door of the secret earth. |
| He drank enough |
| And lifted his head, dreamily, as one who has drunken, |
| And flickered his tongue like a forked night on the air, so black, |
| Seeming to lick his lips, |
| And looked around like a god, unseeing, into the air, |
| And slowly turned his head, |
| And slowly, very slowly, as if thrice adream, |
| Proceeded to draw his slow length curving round |
| And climb again the broken bank of my wall-face. |
| And as he put his head into that dreadful hole, |
| And as he slowly drew up, snake-easing his shoulders, and entered farther, |
| A sort of horror, a sort of protest against his withdrawing into that horrid black hole, |
| Deliberately going into the blackness, and slowly drawing himself after, |
| Overcame me now his back was turned. |
| I looked round, I put down my pitcher, |
| I picked up a clumsy log |
| And threw it at the water-trough with a clatter. |
| I think it did not hit him, |
| But suddenly that part of him that was left behind convulsed in undignified haste, |
| Writhed like lightning, and was gone |
| Into the black hole, the earth-lipped fissure in the wall-front, |
| At which, in the intense still noon, I stared with fascination. |
| And immediately I regretted it. |
| I thought how paltry, how vulgar, what a mean act ! |
| I despised myself and the voices of my accursed human education. |
| And I thought of the albatross, |
| And I wished he would come back, my snake. |
| For he seemed to me again like a king, |
| Like a king in exile, uncrowned in the underworld, |
| Now due to be crowned again. |
| And so, I missed my chance with one of the lords |
| Of life. |
| And I have something to expiate : |
| A pettiness. |
| D.H. Lawrence | Classic Poems |
After I mentioned the book by Lawrence LeShan yesterday I was thinking about meditation and about difficult times in life.Often when things are hard for us, we get stressed,we get the”fight or flight” response which released adrenalin and other hormones and we get narrower vision [I have actually had “tunnel vision“,it’s not a metaphor].We are ready to attack somebody or to quickly run away.Usually neither is possible so this response makes life worse.We get worn to a shred
When we need help,we can get in touch with something within us.The paradox is that we need to be relaxed to get in touch with this inner deeper self.We need to trust in something despite the dangers.In religious terms,trust in God is a common phrase.But not many Christians I have known really do trust in God.I prefer to call it the Unknown.After all,what or who was it that made the sperm and egg unite and then made the embryo grow into you?It was not by will power and effort that your mother grew you.It was by allowing this inner wisdom to act upon the embryo.So relaxing ,allowing,being are needed.How can we let go and trust in the inner deep self to help us?Maybe when we are in despair because we tried everything else and nothing works.This is a concern I am dwelling on today.I feel ,being Sunday,it is appropriate tio think of what some would call the spiritual side of lifeI was helped once when in a tragic situation.I kept looking for a way out.Sitting quietly one day I found I suddenly knew I could do nothing except return to my notmal duties and accept the tragedy.We need to feel safe in order to trust
A week or two ago I was thinking about thinking.There is more than one kind of thinking.Some kinds,like rumination, are often self destructive.Other kinds of thinking can turn one outside of one’s self and can become what I call “thoughtfulness”.And that is a a virtue.It combines awareness and caring towards others with standing back and considering what is best for them and ourselves.
Then there is what we might call ” blind thinking” which is totally self centred like the chattering voices in our head
I want that red dress,he’s nasty,I am fed up being at work. so long…………all going on underneath our consciousness much of the time.We may be unaware of it but it can affect us and how we act towards others.It’s childish,turned inwards and trivial.Can we stop it? I am thinking about that,,, not brooding.I mean,my mind is open and I hope some new ideas will come to help me understand this blind thinking
How can we see and not be blind in our thinking?How can we be wise?
What a day
|
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chronology_of_Shakespeare%27s_plays
Above is a link to Shakespeare’s plays
Wind in my pillows [Life in a Cabin/Tent with no door.]
Save me,I’m a waspie…. [Confused person demands help from a Bee ]
As you swipe it..[Use your card please while I watch]
As you wipe it ………[What an ass….keep it covered till later.]
As you spike it……………….[How to drug people senseful if they want you to do]
Did he take it………………[Bribes in modern life]
Did you bake it?………………… [ White lies in between the courses]
As You Fake It………………..[Is anyone honest in bed?No,thank God!So far,so bad.]
As you take it……………………[All about saving thieves from me]
As I frighten it…………………[Get rid of daddy long legs.]
As you strike it………………[ Do you think about the matches?]
Remedies for Terriers…………….. .[Dogs need psychotherapy too..]
Comedy of Worriers…………………….[Why, is there no trust is left in Society?]
Love’s Labor Costs………………. [Even love needs money now]
Measure your Leisure………[Take away the last pleasures of free time with numbers.]
Merchant of Pennies………..[I prefer pounds, but each to their own]
Sorry Lives of the Censored……………[USA boobs again]
Midsummer Blights Schemes…………[Too many leaves fell off the trees for devilment]
Julius Breather……………… [A break from antiquity at last’
Much Ado about Washing………….[.Confessions of Dirty Married Men]
Taming of the Brew [ How to make tea in a pot and live to drink it]
The Tempest missed………………. [Lucky me]
Elves Night…………….. [No.not again.Elves are too small or I am a giant]
Too gentle women may moan for her [].Oh,dear.Highly Sensitive Women
Hinters fail…………………… [Some folk like me just never get it.Tell us straight.]
I never knew you loved me till you were gone with the wind……[I sinned.]
Blind to men’s charms and hence not in their arms…………..[and other alarms]
Ring here…………………..[Helpline for numb actors.]
The Bride and Seven others……….{polygamy or bigamy.Is it polite?]
A Gossamer Flight of Day Dreams…………..[Spiders for Britain]
Kings Sneer [Always an error]
Richard Who Dared………..[Wars of the Poseurs]
MacDeath [Stay off burgers]
MacClef [Musical Version with real instruments]
Sing Dear [Love for the well aged]
King Veered [How Eddie lost the throne for lurv]
Weird and interesting
In Nietzsche’s discussion of the Dionysian World View, I found the most interesting aspect of his writing was his description of the Dionysian state as an abandonment of both the limits of existence and of the memories of personal experience. Essentially, he defines intoxication to be a state, which allows a person to momentarily supersede the bounds of reality, and thus come closer to experiencing the limitless freedom of the dreamscape, while conscious. Though Nietzsche’s description of this seems a bit optimistic, I agree that intoxication is in a sense a tool for losing inhibition, which more often than not makes reality a bit bland. Nietzsche reiterates this by mentioning that the individualist mindset also disappears in the Dionysian state, meaning people come together when mutually intoxicated and work collectively.
One thing that confused me was his comparison of the two types of attitudes that demonstrate what Greek life…
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My friend is like an FBI interrogator…asking so many questions
Do you have a friend with no charms?
Do you have a friend who alarms?
Well,go hug a tree
And you will then be
Caressed with nature’s own balm
Dwelling on these thoughts about thinking,and knowing much thinking is blind and cut off from the people outside us is it valid to compare they say it to different kinds of talk’conversation?
Free thinker?
With a trusted friend or teacher we may open our hearts and ears.We may talk and listen .We may learn and give our friend new ideas…but also this conversation may be risky.So more frequently we gossip,talk about the weather or argue over trivialities.We may chat with a friend simply to show we are with them or as they say,To touch base…in other words to comfort and give security.
When we are alone,we might worry for hours.Some people used to worry a lot about their sins.Or whether they had enough money.Or some daydream and fantasise about,Fifty Shades of Grey.Maybe actual thinking or thought is rare.
I am not proposing we should be thinking all day.We would go mad!But were we to think,would it be like a conversation with the Other within?So we’d be listening as well as talking silently?A kind of internal conversation may be taking place.We all know that our unconscious mind may be thinking while we are woolgathering or taking a a bath.Eureka..Archimedes famous cry.And dreams are also a kind of thought in images.They are a communication.Some people have had dreams which they felt were a message from God.
In a real conversation something new might be born…And why is thinking associated with tension and effort?
My own work
How my heart sings 