“Take it from me: If you hear the past speaking to you, feel it tugging up your back and running its fingers up your spine, the best thing to do-the only thing-is run.”
― Lauren Oliver, Delirium

Philosophic  [from wikipedia]

• The psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud mentions the phrase in Thoughts for the Times on War and Death (1915), in the second part of the essay, “Our Attitude Towards Death”, wherein he said:

We assume a special attitude towards the dead, something almost like admiration for one who has accomplished a very difficult feat. We suspend criticism of him, overlooking whatever wrongs he may have done, and issue the command, De mortuis nil nisi bene: we act as if we were justified in singing his praises at the funeral oration, and inscribe only what is to his advantage on the tombstone. This consideration for the dead, which he really no longer needs, is more important to us than the truth, and, to most of us, certainly, it is more important than consideration for the living.^[3]

I could have glanced all night.

Don’t leave me  for never today

we had the last schmaltz ,it’s true.

A thousand hisses keep..

Prance me with your rubber dove.

Time to say,let’s die.

He’s so negative I am having him developed and hanged on the wall.I never was very good at sandwiches.

Wraiths of  our fathers,living well

Fear Jesu

This is the best line of the way

She wears an undeterred bra and dark snakeswear

His underpants are  very seen.

He has very penetrating why’s.

Please zip up your eyes  before leaving the bathroom

Please wash the sands before meals.

He had   sinister  grammar. at school

He could see flight blew  me.

He looked up directionessly.

She has a new rat this year.

When you have seen one, you have been appalled.

I believe in sexual  dragnetism.

He was embalmed by erudition

His gaze  threw me a line.

They had sex before the carriage and inside too

i think culture is a mulcher

He will never let me grow.

I said,No plank you.

I love you so nearly.

I horse whipped idols for years

You’re almost  defined.

Your  tart is mine;I love Cox’s nipples

I keep him by a raider’s well

He put her on a  pedal-less ball

He hated wax without gloves.

I’ll never leave you in the church

I’ll devour ’em in the porch

I  promise to  love, out say  and fol de rol you until  death has no heart

Lots off love

Oh,devour.

Ode to annoy

See your dilator

See your tune.

See your moons.

See your plater

Yours wincerely… ouch

Yours fadingly

Forever lined.

Buy,buy!

How’s your shoe?

How’s your heartless murmur?

He loved my sins and tumour.

I write my own ruins.

God be with you

With blots on love.

Sans theorie,alors.

• I feel so sorry for the bookworms that lived in the caves alongside the first humans.They must have gnawed on bones for thousands of years until someone opened a library.
  When you say someone opened a library it makes it sound like a tin of soup.
  Yes,think of the waste of tinned food till somebody invented the electric tin opener.
  It makes me think.
  What about?
  The tragedies all around us.
  Like the worms tha live in the soil underneath the London Eye.
  How about the bats that lived in Stratford until that gigantic shopping centre was opened.
  Still I must admit it’s been very good news for all the shoplifters in East London where there were no shops worth lifting.
  And all the thieves who had no rich people to steal from.
  What about all those writers who lived before alphabets were invented and so they had to become artists instead
  It’s enough to make a woman weep.
  Oh,I wouldn’t go as far as that.
  No,you always were faint hearted…
  Well,heart transplants may have been invented but I don’t want one,
  Do you want two?
  I am indecisive.
  I’m under sized
  Lucky sized!
  Give over.
  Why?
  You might make me laugh and comedy may not have been invented yet.
  what a tragedy.
  Let’s cry…if it’s been invented!
  I’ll weep if not.

• How lucky we are that reading had been invented as what would we do with our writing otherwise

Oh,doctor I am in a flap
I cannot turn this childproof cap
I cannot take my medicine
So I shall chuck it in the bin

The beta blockers make me down
 So I am in a study brown.
The mini aspirins make me bruise
And my mind is quite confused.

The ibuprofen hurt my heart
Yet without one I cannot start.
The thyroxine has no effect
So what act may I select?

The codeine fails to make me high
I'm not addicted, though I try.
I'll have to take a shot of gin
And alcohol will make me sin.

I'll go to parties in a dress
That makes men's hormones more or less.
I'll take a big one home with me,
And give him poison in his tea.

And when I am in jail, at last,
I'll feel remorse for all my past.
For as I suffer dreadful pain
God has hit me yet again.

It's not enough that I'm  half blind
And suffer terrors in my mind
Not enough that lovers cruel
Give me stick instead of jewels.

Or maybe life does not make sense
Especially when one feels so tense.
Maybe random are my days
and my life has gone astray.

I think that I shall buy a cat
And love it tenderly and chat.
But if my cat gives me a scratch...
I'll light its tail up with a match.

All the world must me obey
Else I'll be enraged all day.
I want my own way all the time.
Other people must conform.

I am here and full of ills
What do you think of those blue pills?
If they take away my heart
That at least will be a start.

Then they can remove my brain
To help me with this dreadful pain.
Why not kill me  straight away
Then I'll be from pain astray?

Stan was teaching social statistics to a group of elderly neighbors.Since he was 101 it gave  much  hope  to them to see him demonstrating his prowess with various techniques on the overhead projector,.He was planning to do some logic and  some philosophy too.Annie was sitting by the door so she could answer the bell if any paramedics turned up for tea or supper…etc
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 neighbour “Henry,an ex-English teacher.”So how can they be standard.It’s utterly confusing..”
“Are you thinking of deviants?” Stan enquired calmly yet nervously

”Certainly not,at my age I’m  long  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 kindlily.
“They are just more precisely defined in statistics.To say someone is a deviant is a rather vague term.”
“No,it’s not!My neighboru 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 prosaic..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! word. 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.So Lacan appeared to think.As I am unable to understand his writing  myself,I cannot be sure if he was right

“Time for tea.” called Annie,hoping to divert their attention to the everyday realm of food and drink..She carried in a platter of mouse [mice?] sandwiches kindly donated by the local ambulance service and some iced Victoria sponge she and Stan had made the day before in her oven.
“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 kindly answered.And it;s impossible truly.
“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!”As we all know….
“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?

.To be continued..i…

“Evil usually enters the world unrecognised by the people who open the door and let it in…………………..If victimisation is the essence of evil,then the question of evil is a victim’s question”

Roy Baumeister

From his book, Evil : inside human cruelty and guilt

My hands reached out to touch you but there was nothing there

Except the empty air.

Let’s hope seven devils don’t rush in

where angels dear once trod

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/aug/21/mental-ill-health-creativity-high-iq-genius?CMP=ema_1364

http://blogs.telegraph.co.uk/news/edwest/100202789/romantic-love-overrated-and-hyped-up-by-the-media-since-1200ad/

A friend of mine who lost her husband a few years ago was stunned when a cousin asked her how she found on line dating.Anyone less likely to do that would be hard to find.Anyway how do we describe ourselves? Too intelligent…no thanks.Bad eyesight… can be an advantage.Crippled with arthriitis… enjoy  a creative adventurer/ in your bed…

Frightened of dentists.. date a doctor.. and vice versa or just vice.Actually one really important thing is  smell.My husband smielled like honey.. that was nice.Scientists believe it may be the most important sense and I can  understand why… tough sleeping next to a bad smelling man.An ugly man..ok shut your eyes.. you get my point?Too large………………buy a bigger bed…But kindness and a nice smell will take a man a long way though maybe with somebody else , not you or me and in some ways it’s nice to be in joyful solitude just a cat and a few novels and a bottle full of old buttons.

http://www.lrb.co.uk/v33/n11/galen-strawson/religion-is-a-sin

[

A bit of extra  reading below]

Issues

The second article is a fascinating interview with Strawson in which he compares Hitler to an earthquake]

“If we take the term ‘morally worse’ as purely descriptive, denoting people whose characters generally appear to be morally worse than average, and if we restrict our attention to those who have had some non-negligible degree of education, we find that people who have religious convictions are on the whole morally worse than people who lack the

Galen Strawson …his life and work with some radio discussions

St Paul and St Augustine are monstrous egoists..quote

You may find this letter interesting