At last,I begin to comprehend
The Hell of Europe in the 20th century:meaning of the Holocaust
At last,I begin to comprehend
At last,I begin to comprehend
A very great essay
You can read the whole article from this genius

You can read the whole article from this genius


Please avoid thrilling people on the road
Please wave carefully
Please weep to yourself and do not bend
Please do not walk on the toad.
Please do not grow balls here.
Please lie off the band
Please tell the youth.always
Please weep quiet.
Please leap off the chimney breast
Please pass your zest and drive yourself round the clown
Please pay the piano on arrival.
No lies enrolled here
Do read this
Related articles
- Movember Mental Health (counsellorheather.wordpress.com)
- Mariel Hemingway Talks Mental Health and Suicide (webpronews.com)
- Mental Health : help and advice (brandwoodforum.wordpress.com)
- What is Mental Health Anyways?! (embroidyourself.com)
- Sinéad O’Connor: Mental Health, the Media, and Human Rights (madinamerica.com)
- 5 Reasons…To Talk About Mental Health (spottysunflowers.wordpress.com)
- How An Online Platform Could Save Your Mental Health (nibletz.com)
- Launch of new Liberal Democrat group focussing on Mental Health (libdemvoice.org)
When I was fifteen or so, my mother waded through the sea of clothes, books, school work and teenage flotsam and jetsam that covered my floor, and sat on the edge of my bed with tears in her eyes. I had to clean up, she said. It was really important that I get the room sorted. I made some excuse, but she cast her eyes downwards, subtly wiping a tear from the corner.
“I had a friend who never cleaned up. Every time you went into her house, the house was a complete bomb site. She had junk all over every surface. And she ended up in Ward 12B.”
Ward 12B, for those who never had the chance to go there, was the mental health ward at the old Canberra Hospital. So apparently, Mum believed that mess drove you mad and that cleaning was protective. It’s a particularly amusing little…
View original post 2,640 more words
Trapped behind bars?
Can’t stop thinking?Read this article.Can’t stop reading.
Think about :
Moving house
Extending your kitchen
Getting your hair cut off and buying a wig.
Streaking in church
Shrieking in church
Seeing visions
Having a siesta
Fantasise about sex
Fantasise about chastity
Take a quiz for Aspergers
Take a test for mensa.
Convert to a new religion
See a therapist.
Bake a cake.
Have a bath
Go to bed with the Vicar
Go to bed with the Rabbi
Buy a bike
This is a very good article about Doris Lessing from the Washington Post in 1994
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/obituaries/10455589/Doris-Lessing-Obituary.html
One of the best writers ever died today.Doris Lessing had a long and intriguing life as a child in Iran and Rhodesia and an adult on England
If like me you get hooked on philosophy the NYT has many intriguing articles such has this one.
Is it the case that atheism will damage our morals or those of our children?Can you have morals without religion?Ethics may or may not need a religious base.Now Bible reading is diminishing is that leading to trouble?
Since I came upon the work of Levinas I have found his writing interesting even though tough for me to understand,,
I just found this useful list of references to him and in case you are interested you can take a look



And it came to pass that they ate their dinner
and that she did washeth up.
And she did leave the dishes to drain
Whilst she put on the washing machine.
and the man was very pleased.
And it further came to pass
that she gave the man some pudding
and he was more pleased.
And then it came to pass the he fell asleep
By the fire.
And the Lord God,said
who is this man that sleepeth by his fire?
And He said,I shall waken him up
And the man awoke,
And God spake unto him
How is it that the woman laboureth in ye kitchen.
And that thou sleepeth here in an armchair.
And the man said,
But Thou didst order women to labour.
And the Lord God said unto the man
Why dost thou remember so selectively what I have said?
And the man said,
I knoweth not and therefore I will help this woman.
And the Lord God said,
Why dost thou not think of it thyself?
And the man said in reply,
It was Thou that made me,O God.
And the Lord God was displeased with the man.
so he called down a plague of butterflies
To prevent him from sleeping.
And when the woman came in
she was much pleased to see these butterflies
and so she fell onto the man
And he did make love unto her.
And the cat was very pleased.
For it thrilled a cat to watch humans loving
and gave him hope
That the Lord God would take his rib and make a mate for him.
And indeed it doth seem to have happened
Judging by all the cats staring in ye old window here;
And by their ecstatic yelps
That the Lord God was very generous with them
and made them many mates.
For truly there is no jealousy among them
And they mate freely and happily
and never have rows about the washing up..
as they eat straight from the can.Amen
Here endeth today’s lesson.
Be thou kind to thy mate always


Elena,a baby wrapped in her woollen clothes,
On the last train,Warsaw to Moscow,
[ change Niegoreloje.]
1939.Father,mother,brother
You passed through the Arctic Wastes of life.
Still as if travellng on a train
To an impossibly far destination.
As you left the German Army crashed into Poland
Lost,your aunts
Your cousins.
Your culture.
How does God select the damned?
Later,you had your own baby,here in England,
Not lost like all those others.
Your father died by his own hand,
The hand of history;
The fingers twitching,
Not sure where to point.
Then settling into frozen grief
A sculpture only your mother saw.
You saw too,Elena.
You always saw,though you can’t remember;
The long journey,your mother’s breast,
Your father’s silence.
Only the dead know that silence.
Only the dead weep
With the rocks and stones .
And the ice in each eye
Fell like snow down your cheeks
As you held your own infant.
Warsaw to Moscow,
Moscow to Jerusalem.
Always journeying
Looking for what they can never find:
The home they left behind
The presence of the dead
Lying in gaunt heaps
Like rubbish
Your aunts, Elena.
Your cousins.
You never knew them.
But there’s a hole in your mind
Through which the Polish wind blows for ever.