Month: March 2015

Would you read one of the books called “Something for dummies”?

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I found when I first bought a computer that one of the books like Windows Vista for Dummies was really helpful.Someof their books are quite hard like one about repairing your own computer.I don’t like the title but assume in the USA it has a slightly different meaning and since they cover many topics they are a useful resource.I have quite a few of them.They are very thorough and well laid out.
A better title,perhaps,was thought up by another American.The have series called
XXXXX The Missing manual…

and they cover everything.They aim to cover a gap which they think is not covered by the user manuals…You need time to study their books.
I doubt if I’d read Religion for Dummies but I am happy with Knitting for Dummies.
Very few people explain a topic to the absolute beginner.Because they lack the imagination to understand what it can be like….I learned to do this when teaching and unfortunately it sometimes happens nown that I tell people something in that manner which irritates them.. so now I try to keep quiet.

Sometimes we should be less worried about what people will think if they see us readinf

Wittgenstein for Dummies

Though it stings

No words of mine can potently display
the anguish and the joy that touch our lives;
yet all our ghostly forebears went this way
where words may pierce our hearts like sharpened knives.

No  sentient being willingly at first
Accepts the pain that true perception brings.
Yet we must not take our hearts to be a curse;
we need not flee from knowledge,though it stings.

Each day demands our thoughtfulness and love
from which all better action gently stems
each day the grace we have is just enough
as through the meta narratives we thumb.

For life’s but a true story we invent,
with passion and with purified intent

Fifty shades of childhood

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I see in the paper today that an 11 year old boy went to a World Books Day at his school dressed as the main male character in Fifty Shades of Grey.Out of all the novels written in English in the last ten years even I wonder how he chose that?He was banned I heard… though his mother who is a teacher said he has not read the book….
What is sad is that there is now no childhood, in a sense.
we can’t hide these things from younger children.He may not have read the book but he may have seen ads for the film or watched porn too.I know some children will already be having a sexual life at 11 though it seems a bit risky…emotionally
I don’t mind the book for anyone daft enough to read it but it’s taking up time which could be used for writing,fishing, ,drawing,playing.reading some classics.
So I got my first feeling of,this country is going to the dogs.##

THOUGHTS ON CHILDHOOD

Oh,yes,I feel pain in my interior
Though I do not claim I’m superior
The excess of flat screens
Defines the play scene
In time it makes spirit inferior.

For children must play on sea shores
Hear the ocean where sea birds may soar
Hold shells to their ears
Play act their fears
Add image and joy to mind’s stores.”

We risk losing life’s joyous demands
as like water they flow through our hands.
We need slowness and space
Apart from the race
Not minds filled with pale sex, so bland

Where has sweet love gone,I ask.
Is grey sex an easier task.
Though still tender our hearts,
Will feeling depart?
Is life nothing else but a masque

Stan falls down and hurts his crown

Stan was cooking dinner today,
While his wife went out to play.
He cooked a pie of frogs and cress,
He wanted to impress.
Stan was wearing his old clothes.
Where old clothes come from,no-one knows.
He meant to change when he was done,
So he and Mary could have fun.
But Anne his neighbour rang the bell,
Stan was so surprised he fell.
He hit his head upon the stove,
And his poor scalp turned blue and mauve.
Ring 999 and ask for Dave,
This man is old yet must be saved
The paramedic gave him glue
To stick together his old shoe.
Then he rubbed on arnica..
The old head looks like Guernica.
“Get the camera,take a pic.”
Stan was feeling rather sick.
“How can you use my wounds as art?
Rest assured I’ll take no part.”
He hit the camera with his stick,
And felled his mistress with a brick.
So now they’re in a mixed sex ward,
This experience can be shared.
They get their food at 3 am
Half for the ladies,half for the men.
The doctor asked them what went wrong.
Both of them had lost their tongues.
Neither would say what they’d done!
Now their anger is all gone.
The moral of my myth is this:
Being unfaithfail is not bliss.
Mistresses can be a pain,
Especially if they’re very vain.
And better not to look for love,
Except with cats or sweet white doves.
Let your neighbour love you less!
And don’t make comments on her dress.
And as for voyeurs,keep a crutch.
Hit them hard, but not too much.
If they want a work of Art,
Tell them home is where to start.

Love is the opium of the asses

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We all have our own opium……

Did you know Catholics give out opium at their Masses?

Did you know they give out soap to all Classes?

Did you know that love is the opium of the asses?

Did you know that women were the opium of Picasso?

Did you know the Government dope the lower classes?

Did you know Anglicans wear those very small glasses?

Did you know Methodists can get free bus passes?

Did you know Benedictine is good for gluts of gases?

Did you know the BBC took Licence as high as they could Manage?

To B  a figure of fun is to B geometric humor

Did you know your Government is fully of millionaires’ asses with freepasses

Posted by at 20:14

Two down

2012-01-22

I limped  and hobbledl anguidly out into the town in glorious sunshine wearing a cotton print dress from Harrods with a pure new wool coat over it and a pair  of white leather shoes made by Ecco of Rome and Paris.While slurping milky coffee and humming Grieg’s cello sonata I noticed a lady struggling to get up out of her rather padded chair.With my usual generosity and kindness I gave her some advice based on lessons I went to on the Alexander technique which propelled her up and onto her feet.
She then regaled me with the story of how her husband had died without warning sitting right next to her on the sofa.He must have been wealthy for she wore four huge gold rings of obviously high quality.She must have thought I looked as if I needed cheering up
We discovered we both hated Mrs Thatcher which was for her the first time she’d met anyone with a similar view.
By a marvellous coincidence I then met a lady at the bus stop who told me how her husband retired and took up bowls.Soon he dropped dead on the bowling green after only a few weeks of retirement; we agrees it was extremely thoughtful of him to die outside of the house and need no rescusitation as he had a sticky label on his jumper saying,Bowled Out.Goodbye.
So when I arrived home I examined my enchanted honey scented husband all over with a small magnifying glass and found he was still alive though somewhat bewildered until he realised I had had my hair cut off to make me look more like a survivor of leprosy and a transexual sheep rolled into one.
Earlier a sparrow kept flying into the window and then into a little bay tree.Is it an omen? And who knows what is about to happen?
For as my husband says, the future is fiction.
But is my future in fiction as I want money….for more scope

And nobody will know

English: The National Champion Black Walnut (J...
English: The National Champion Black Walnut (Juglans nigra) on Sauvie Island, Oregon. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I love you like I’d love a black walnut.
You’re so rare I can’t eat you.
I’ll put you in my pocket
and take you with me
when I go in town
I’ll feel your crinkles and your wrinkles,
But nobody will know.

I love you like I’d love a comice pear.
I’ll put you in a golden bowl.
I’ll let the sun shine on you,
Till you are ripe.
I’ll put you in my bag,
Take you to a meadow of buttercups
And devour you.
And nobody will know.

I love you like I’d love a flower.
I’ll give you my best vase.
I’ll stand it in the window.
Then I’ll look at you all day
With my peripheral and my central vision,
Till your pattern is embedded in my brain.
I’ll sleep well and dream of you all night.
I’ll wake up and remember it all.

And nobody will know

The puddle

Wall and shrub

Into the puddle she gazed and gazed
My sister was amazed
She’d never seem rainwater deeper than eyes
Mystery undisguised.
Round the rain puddle she ran and ran
Too much for her dolly’s pan.
By reflections of trees she was hypnotised.
Curiousity’s often wise
Oh,my dear sister what do you see there
I hope it’s a vision fair.
What are these ships and the tugs and the tide
Where are the sailors who died?
This is an ocean and I’m in my boat
Come sisters dear,let us float.
We’ll never see father again, for he’s here
and down her face travelled one tear.
I see him afar off, he’s meeting the Lord
There’s the archangel with his sharp sword.
We cannot follow,no, we must go back
We each must stay on our own track.
Three little children with long golden hair
On this road going to where?
Once three small sisters ,but now only two;
Eyes of one green, the other’s blue.
By the park gate by a pool of sea rain
We shall be three again.
One in a pushchair and one gripping tight.
I push my  sweet sisters into the daylight.
Keep hold of the handle and never let go
I loved my two sisters so.
Keep hold of my hands as Dad crosses the sea.
Don’t hope for what cannot be.
I told her it’s only a rainwater pool,
Held in God’s hand like a charming  jewel.
But she saw the patterns and she saw the tides
Which all human beings must ride.

For nothing is “only” and nothing is “just”.
Nothing and everything’s passed.

Vincet qui se vincet

Vincit qui se vincit
She conquers who conquers herself.

http://youtu.be/zfBTiv3WGU0
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Vincit qui omnes se vincit
The owl and the pussy cat winched it
The sea was afrit
The wind froze this old git,
We brewed our tea but some fair maids pinched it

Vincit qui se vincit omnes.
Today I acted with real wrongness
Why was my genius
not sung by Sibelius?
The swan floats along the economies.

.

Vincit qui se omnes vincit
If you see evil coming, then punch it
A defence before harm
Acts like a charm…
If you meet true virtue,then lunch it.

Vincit qui se vincit
Pinch it, winch it,lynch it
All shall be one
Try a cheese scone.
Please pass the butter and fidget

Thank you too much for the fight

I say,dear,this bed is quite right.

Do you mean that itn dreams we fly kites?

You’re so clever you will soon be too bright.

Why,thank you so much,when’s your  flight?

Can’t  I stay here for our fight?

I have no clean pants to incite

I lust for your tender Goodnight.

Some folk can hide in plain sight.i

Don’t roll your eyes when they are bright.

Arthritis gives chastity frights

His heart failed but he functioned,well ,,quite.

Her  heart pains gave thrills  to their rites

They died but said heaven’s alright

/

A pool of sea rain

Into the puddle she gazed and gazed
My sister was amazed
She’d never seem rainwater deeper than eyes
Mystery undisguised.
Round the rain puddle she ran and ran
Too much for any doll’s pan.
By reflections of trees she was hypnotised
Curiousity’s often wise
Oh,my dear sister what do you see there
I hope a vision fair.
What are these ships and the tugs and the tide
Where are the sailors who died?
This is an ocean and I’m in my boat
Come sister ,dear let us float.
We’ll never see father again, for he’s here
and down her face travelled one tear.
I see him afar off, he’s meeting the Lord
There’s the archangel’s sharp sword.
We cannot follow,no, we must go back
We each must stay on our own track.
Three little children with newly washed hair
On this road going to where?
Once three small sisters ,but now only two
Eyes of one green,other blue.
By the park gate by a pool of sea rain
We shall be three again.
One in a pushchair and one gripping tight.
I push my sisters into the dawn light.
Keep hold of the handle and never let go
I love my two sisters so.
Keep hold of my hands as Dad crosses the sea.
Don’t seek for what you can’t be.
I told her it’s only a rainwater pool
Held in God’s hand like a jewel.
But she saw the patterns and she saw the tides
Which all human beings will ride.

For nothing is “only” and nothing is “just”.
Nothing and everything’s passed.

Love at first bite

He believes in her love at first light
He believes in all love when it’s bright.
She believes in real love, to be polite.
She believes that real love is delight
She believes in his love when she’s tight
He relieved her of love in the night.
Do you think that true love turns black white?
When God created men he thought,Christ

Geese by Mary Oliver

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http://www.oprah.com/entertainment/Maria-Shriver-Interviews-Poet-Mary-Oliver/2

Mary Oliver is a favourite of mine.
She rarely gives interviews

Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

If only life could be captured

How beautiful it was when the sun shone

And I walked with you,my dear husband, through the gardens.

How happy I was to sit with you by the lake

and to hear the water from the fountain splash.

It’s our our favourite music now we cannot visit the sea

To hear the tide rush in,then fall sucking on the shingley beach.

But I see it in my minds eye.

Aldeburgh,the fishing boats go out at sunrise.

I awoke early and saw the sun across the sea

and the boats setting out in the soft light.

Dunwich,the heath filled with birds

the cliff and the beach where sometimes one can find marble

from one of the many churches washed away by the encroaching sea.

And Southwold,the marsh so quiet I heard crickets.

We went across the Blyth in the rowing boat

And saw the place from which our picture of Walberswick was painted…

If only life could be captured,slowed, for a few minutes

for us to receive the beauty and hear the sound of the sea

The everlasting music of the heart ,

Rhythm and pulse,the wet sand sliding under my barefeet

amongst those tiny sea shells.

I shall remember

From Stan to Ron:The letters

  • Dear Ron

    I’m writing to you now as I had no time at Xmas with Mary wanting shopping and Emile having measles again.Since then life has calmed down a little.We had a party last week which went well,I believe though,don’t tell anyone,I had my mistress here doing the drinks!I know I’m 98 but I still love women.
    Mary has been a good wife but she’s not glamorous enough for me.She wears a twinset and flowered skirt from Artigiano but she will have pen clipped to the front neck, her mobile in her 46H bra and a pair of pliers hanging from her belt and as well as that her nails are rough.
    What puzzles me is, and again,keep this secret, when we married she was as flat as a pancake yet she’s now got a front like the prow of a ship.
    I guess the ample cleavage is appealing to some men but I prefer skinny women…She blames me as she never ate until we married and she got the Jewish Cookery Book…God knows why as she was a Catholic then [but they have no cookbook].This book has everything,cheesecakes,sponge cakes,puddings,meat loaves and we have eaten all of it.
    I wonder why I am still thin and she is so fat when she rides a bike to work and I drive the car….scientists don’t seem to know.
    Still,I have my mistress who is quite slender and Mary seems to be elsewhere mentally…She reads Philosophy in bed.Is it my fault?I am so old I can’t change… but can she?I don’t mind her doing maths but I wish she wore a pearl satin nightie with lace all over it and some perfume… she smells of bike oil and Algipan heat rub.No wonder we never have any sex life now
    .Do you think maybe I should wear a nightie like that and see how she reacts?Have you ever done anything like that?We could have a chat on the phone.It’s not so much the sex,it’s the cuddling I like and whispering in her ears.Too late as she probably is reading a manual for her camera and checking the screwdrivers and the files.
    She has even stolen my camera…nary a word.
    Still,there we go…life is hard.Emile had a very bad bout of measles and I kept him in for 3 weeks resting in a box.I wonder if he will catch chickenpox,I find him a worry though he is funny too and can swim!He is very rare.
    I fear owing to the cat etc I have no real news.But I’d love to hear yours and remember,don’t tell anybody what I have confided in you.I hope we can meet in the Spring time
    Till then,keep well.
    Adios amigo
    Your friend
    Stan

    ps I must tell you about Satan next time,you won’t believe it

  • The reply

    Dear Stan
    I am answering your letter immediately as I am very irate about your behaviour.
    Muriel ran away with an artist but it was all above board; we had none of this deception.Can’t you speak to Mary?She seems quite charming to me.And your fantasies of wearing silk nightdresses seem odd in a man of your age…By all means try it if it will help your marriage.Will Mary wear her tigerprint house dress?I loved it.In fact I’ve been in love with Mary for many years but backed off on moral grounds but if you are consorting with Satan and this female neighbour,I feel I ought to help poor Mary…if you divorce her.. let me know!
    Why does she carry pliers in her belt?Is she afraid of being attacked?As for her size,she does have a severe thryroid problem and that can play havoc with the weight.
    Most men would be delighted to be engulfed in her delightful bosom and to kiss her plump yet elegant neck and to embrace her with love and passion.
    Apart from Xmas,the old dog Gip died and Sally has had twins so Muriel is up from St Ives.I miss her but no longer so painfully and we want to be there for Sally and Ben.He’s only two and Malcolm travels so Ben will be quite hard hit by the twins coming.
    So I see myself being a helping grandad doing manly things with him.I’ll soon have him changing fuses and backing up his laptop.I may even show him how to make plum wine in the autumn.Sally is breastfeading Jill and Milly so she’ll get tired out.
    Has your Lyra never got married?That would occupy you.Emile is sweet but he is in fact just a cat.
    Can you not go to the pub like other men?Play darts or gamble,smoke cigars and discuss politics…
    Leave that neighbour alone or I shall swoop down to protect Mary like a giant owl on LSD.I’ll kill you.
    We had a roast goose for Xmas.It’s now recovered as it was only half cooked and I’ve dug a pond for it.I am mating it in the spring,I hope.. where do I buy a female goose?I am fond of goslings
    Now,just heed my words or I shall be very irate
    Your old friend and moral adviser
    Ron.

In the bread basket with Moses

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Moses was an Eruption, I hear.So he had to be kept warm in a bread basket.
Then Foureyes daughter let him gloat down on the River Nile…till a bull rushed him.
That turned him into a shrew and he found God.. or God found him.
But God would not let him find Galilee by himself so he found Emilee ,Loelee and Phoebilee instead.
He had many children such as Matthew,Hark,Look and Gone.They were all men and had more children with no wives.They didn’t have any women so who did Cain and Abel marry?Eve?
Is this what Freud never realized… men used to marry their mothers and later their daughters who were also their sisters,Crikey,what a blunder
Blimey what is this Hebrew Bible?Libel?
As we were taught in school, Daniel lived with a lion and a lamb.I’m unsure if they had children…. it might explain a lot if they did.
And finally Solomon was very wise.It was easier then when there was no judge or jury to stop him cutting a baby in two… well, he was just pretending,I think.
I say,the Shrews were very shrewd indeed and also very clever.Like, who told Adam and Eve what to do before Masters and Johnson wrote that book.. Human Textual despondency?
In any case Adam could not read.In fact they didn’t write either.And to think children here can write so young.Adam and Eve were a bit lacking but they have lots of family
Everybody on Earth… pity they are dead and can’t see us though God knows they’d be shocked if they saw our behaviour to our family.
I blame the apples,myself… what do you think?

Sit down during a shopping trip or use as seat in the kitchen

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    Shop a Seat Escort – Shopping Trolley/Basket doubles as a Seat
    Shop-a-Seat Ltd
    i bought one of these from Amazon.It is very strong and as most of the seats in our town have been removed to stop beggars sleeping on them it is very useful.
    But it may be a problem on the bus so I don’t always use it.
    It is just perfect for sitting on at the kitchen work surface or at the sink.
    Standing is hard for many people,more so than walking.I found it a shock to realise I had problems like this but I have adapted… now we have no car.
    It cost £67

Happiness now and then

    • Photo1400

      http://www.resurgence.org/magazine/article3525-happy-beings.htmlic

      This is a very interesting article and it has made me interested in keeping a diary although most of it will not be public.
      Happiness has been the bete noir of recent years along with self esteem but how much benefit have we got from all this?

      “To be happy is not the purpose of our being rather it is to deserve happiness.”
      Johann G. Fichte

      Photo1401

      The article also contains a review of a book surveying the field of modern writing on happiness which has been a very popular topic recently here in the UK.
      However it has not done much good because happiness is not just inside us,it is partly due to the kind of society we live in and our beliefs about entitlement.And confusing happiness and pleasure.

      http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pleasure

      “Happiness is different from pleasure. Happiness has something to do with struggling and enduring and accomplishing.”
      George Sheehan quotes (American physician, author and running enthusiast, 1918 – 1993)

      Alfred North Whitehead wrote that “Too much thinking is bad for you” see below.

      “It is a profoundly erroneous truism, repeated by all copy-books and by eminent people when they are making speeches, that we should cultivate the habit of thinking of what we are doing. The precise opposite is the case. Civilization advances by extending the number of important operations which we can perform without thinking about them. Operations of thought are like cavalry charges in a battle — they are strictly limited in number, they require fresh horses, and must only be made at decisive moments.”

English humour

Foiled war
The Main Dews tonight
Don’t be shy,stand up and be mounted
Politics and nemesis for the backward at coming forward
Freshly rubbished poems
Accursed Verses
The latest crooks on offer
Jesus and the tarts of Babylon.
Breath with menace.
Follita.
Men don’t eat teachers.
Vegeterian dummies.
Windows 8.1 for Cretins.
Maths for Morons.
Overcoming Irony for beginners.
Teach yourself Doubt
Learn Fear and Trembling in a Fortnight with DVD attacked free.
Kierkegaard,the spell.
Lose the scruples,the hard way.
Go the wry way with Spinoza
Fail yourself and go on anyway
How to lose yourself in bowers of flowers
I am no-one,who are you?
Wolf Falls
Anne Bowled out
Henry ,the Weights.
Cramming well for starters