Evolution and death

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Of crypto-theological  progress
Of humans rising from the humble worm
Where is Evolution’s  grand success?

Those who are imperfect cause distress
Soon we want to murder the deformed
Oh! crypto-theological  progress

Evolution’s natural life works best
Eugenics led to genocide in turn
Who is Evolution’s  grand success?

Soon  arose the measurements and tests
As if no human being could discern.
Oh! crypto-theological  progress

 

Is your IQ less than all the rest?
Does testing impede  children’s wish to learn?
Where  is Europe’s  great  evolved  success?
See the Nazis and the books they burned
Did any living people feel concern?
Re  crypto-theological  progress
Has Europe evolved yet  into success?

A jagged silence taunts us overhead

Like a broken shell, our world  has cracked
Whose the foot  that  heavily did tread?
Now we wander  in  this City sacked

Once worlds break  how can we bring them back?
Must we  mourn  until our hearts are fed?
Like a pretty shell, our world  has cracked

Where once stood towers  the buildings lie down  flat
A jagged silence taunts from overhead
 As we wander  in  this City sacked

What New Messiah can  find  and love the gap?
Who will give the wine and whose the bread?
Like a cockleshell, our world  has cracked

The death of  God in Auschwitz  on the Rack
The torture of  the Arabs, children  bleed
We cry out , the slouching beast is back

Did we ever think of those in need?
The children of the genocide still plead
Like a broken shell, the world   has cracked
Now we stumble,blind to what we lack

Like children’s   golden tears in a black sun

 Like children’s   gleaming tears in a  bright sun
That can be dried respectful of the source
The points of light on holly leaves  each shone

The  pink horse chesnuts’ flowering  has begun
May flows on to June  as rivers  course
As children’s   gleaming tears drop in  the sun

Nothing human should be broken,shunned
Yet evil screams till its sharp voice is hoarse
The points of light on holly leaves  still shine

When we learn of genocide , it stuns
I was  unborn, did not know of  such force
As children’s   greying tears dropped  under sun

Each  child is God,  yet such vile acts are done
Anne Frank ‘s  haunting memories now cursed
The points of light on holly leaves  will wane

Where did   our evil start,what makes it worse?
Unheld and hungry   baby needing breast?
Like children’s   golden tears in a   black sun
The points of shame, the prickling leaves may win

The children of the genocides still plead

Like a broken shell, our world  has cracked
Whose the foot  that  heavily did tread?
Now we wander  in  this City sacked

Once worlds break  how can we bring them back?
Must we  mourn  until our hearts are fed?
Like a pretty shell, our world  has cracked

Where once stood towers  the buildings lie down  flat
A jagged silence taunts from overhead
 As we wander  in  this City sacked

What New Messiah can  find  and love the gap?
Who will give the wine and whose the bread?
Like a cockleshell, our world  has cracked

The death of  God in Auschwitz  on the Rack
The torture of  the Arabs, children  bleed
We cry out , the slouching beast is back

Did we ever think of those in need?
The children of the genocide still plead
Like a broken shell, the world   has cracked
Now we stumble,blind to what we lack

Where do tears come from?

Where do tears come from,wet our eyes?

Where do griefs come from,where our sighs?

Will we have mourned enough one  new day?

Where does love come from, what does love say?

Does even God weep, where are his eyes?

Does even God weep as more children die?

Where is the saviour, where is the Cross?

Knock down the churches, they are no loss.

Weep with the grieving weep with the lost

Weep tears of blood for we all know the cost.

See vultures circling, eating the dead.

Can you love Western culture when you see where it’s led?

See the poor children hungry in school.

The scientists have proved they themselves are the fools.

Economics and warfare developed our brains

We are the victims by new mathematics chained.

Bring me the music bring me the song

The rhythm of the future beats like a gong

The Ways of the Will, by Leslie H. Farber – Commentary Magazine

https://www.commentary.org/articles/edgar-friedenberg/the-ways-of-the-will-by-leslie-h-farber/#:~:text=His%20central%20concern%20is%20with,even%20on%20the%20psychoanalytic%20couch.

Dr. Farber is anything but surgical. His central concern is with the evil consequences of treating people as if they were passive objects—and with the virtual impossibility, in our society with its scientific and linguistic conventions, of treating them in any other way, even on the psychoanalytic couch. But perhaps good surgeons, too, are assisted by their awareness of their patients’ humanity even while refusing to become sentimental about their disorders.

The integrity of this book is attested to by the fact that it hangs together like a well-constructed mobile even though it is a collection of ten essays published over the past decade, all but one of them in technical journals. Taken together, they demonstrate their author’s consistent concern with the same moral issues. But there is no repetition at all. A psychiatrist whose fundamental interest is in the relationships of ethics to personal style and authenticity could surely ask no richer or more diverse opportunity for participant-observation than that afforded by an established practice in Washington, D.C. Dr. Farber’s genius loci is also responsible, I suspect, for his selection of the phenomenon of despair—of which Washington has become the unrivaled world source—as the topic for three of the most original of his essays.

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Mary spills the cream

animal photography animals big cat carnivore
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Mary was reading a very interesting blog called London postcode by postcode They had reached London N9 and she had got rather bogged down there even though she had not fallen into the Marshes around the River Lea where once the Danes had sailed as Invaders. They would find it very hard to invade us now as the River Lea seems to have shrunk
So lyrical, there are parks and green space,s dirt and mud. Wright’s flour Mill in Ponders End and possibly a lot of illegal immigrants eating Canada geese according to folk myth and racist’ ideas.Canada geese do tend to breed rather excessively and anyway, why are they here in Britain without visas

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Mary discovered that her favourite poets John Keats had been apprenticed to a doctor in Edmonton and here is the house where he stayed.There is also a house where Charles and Mary Lamb lived for many years; they are buried in the church graveyard nearby.The church is 15th century and is rather beautiful. there was a hero from World War II who lives in one of these quiet streets in a white painted suburban house.
His name was Charles Coward and he managed to rescue 400 Jewish prisoners from Auschwitz ;his name is on a memorial in Israel. there’s even a film about him with Dirk Bogarde it is called “The password is courage”

in this quiet little Street he lived for many years until he died at the age of 71
We never know who might have been living in our street or the next street. people who had done a very courageous things but had never boasted about them
Mary was so busy trying to read this blog and put away the groceries from Morrisons not to mention other household tasks that the day seemed to go by very quickly
How alluring Mary was looking in her pale turquoise and grey wool skirt topped by a turquoise roll neck top from Lands End and with that a rather shrunken jumper in cream with brown dots on it whether it was an accident or deliberate we will never know.On her elegant slim legs she wore some warm black tights and cream shoes
Mary was dressed up like this at home yet went out on Saturday evening wearing an old motheaten jumpe to meet some of the wealthy and members of our parish ;what’s the total mystery is this:did Mary want to look poor and downtrodden or was she was trying to signal her unavailability to be the wife of any men at the meeting only Mary knows. As a matter of fact even Mary doesn’t know. this is why life is so hard because we don’t know how our own motivations
Mary has spent several hours looking for a SIM card for a mobile phone which she never used and did not need and yet could not stop looking for it; however during this process she found that her gnt spray for Atypical Angina was 6 months out of date. so she had to ring the surgery and speak to the doctor Who quickly emailed the note to the pharmacist telling them that this was an emergency that Mary must have the spray as soon as possible or she might have a heart attack .Why Mary might even die like Jesus Christ, not for the same reasons as Jesus Christ and he was probably too young to have got this migraine of the heart as the most poetic language might name it
Mary herself had never known that she had it until one morning she had a terrible pain in her chest and was unable to speak.then she was whizzed off to the hospital to have all sorts of tests and her heart was totally alright except for this symptom which stops the blood from flowing into the heart
Mary went into the kitchen and took some things out of the washing machine wondering where God meant us to dry our washing in winter
When human beings were first created they did not need to wear clothes because they lived in the Garden of Eden surrounded by fruit trees and flowers. it was only after they fell into sin by eating a tomato that they became aware that they were naked and decided to knit themselves jumpers and trousers
Did you know it can be a long time before we learn to knit or, as needles had not yet been invented [come to that neither had wool]. Of course they did not have polyester or nylon or plastic. they did not have gas central heating. yes they were very happy bearing their beautiful family and eventually killing each other when they were not busy procreating .So the world has continued right up till now .We still knit jumpers and sometimes we kill other people because they do not worship the same God that we worship nor do they have as much money as we do. and whatever they have so others will try to take it away.Just like our own Empire of the Done
Mary concluded there has never been any peaceful time in human history and those who try to be too humble or too good or too kind will be the first ones to be slaughtered. Virtue may not always be its own reward .
if only we were descended from the apes, not the chimpanzees everything could be totally different but what is the point of that kind of thinking?
Mary brooded philosophically while washing the kitchen floor where she has spilt single cream. Mary very rarely eats cream and already she has wasted half of the Carton.
Emile came in: Mother why did you not let me lick the cream from the floor?
You might get food poisoning she cried happily you can have some of the cream from the carton on a saucer for your tea. is that good ?
Well said Emile I suppose there’s nothing else now since you have washed the floor but you know that we prefer to eat things from the floor .Cats don’t have China and cutlery
Neither did Adam and Eve Mary screamed softly
Mother ,control yourself anybody would think that you were a chimpanzee, Emile winked at her!
And they’d be right Mary thought to herself I am a chimpanzee

and so are all of us humans beings

adorable animal animal world cat
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I apologise for the errors in this document I am using speech to typing on Google Documents I have tried to edit it but I may have missed some mistakes.It reads as if I need lessons for people whose first language is no tEnglish

Struggling on life’s craggy slopes

 

Living life in all its fierceness,
Birth and death and joy and pain
We struggle on our unknown journey,
Sometimes lost and found again.

We are indeed like lambs to slaughter
Death will be our final goal.
But while we live,let us live bravely.
Let us not destroy our souls.

Climbing in the hills and moorlands
In the heather, children play.
The sun half blinds me with its light
Yet still I see the given way.

I received a call to climb.
These hills are my essential home.
My vocation is to dwell here
While in the silence,mind may roam.

Noise in cities is destructive.
Though nature's fierce,it's also true.
Struggling on life's craggy slopes
I offer up my words to you.

The love will never stop


His absence left an empty open cut
Where was my blood that should have made a crust?
The weeping wound must heal from bottom up
The healing force is life and others’ love
Those who touch us gently without lust
His absence still an empty open cut
Slowly cells harmonious in this rut
Do their work and live as all things must
The weeping wound can heal from bottom up
Meanwhile my immunity has guts
Keeping off bacteria and dust
In his absence. now a hollow slit
Tears fly horizontal,eyes are shut
Time goes slow and heavy weights oppress
The weeping wound shall heal if I have grit
Bring me wild flowers from the Clevelands plucked
Give me nectar where the wild bees suck
His presence was a comfort,laughter-lit
The wound heals, oh, the love will never stop

I wrote this after I had an operation on my arm.After the stitches were removed I went to bed.When I awoke there was a big open slit in my arm.It did heal after several weeks

Y

The world we see

The world we see is like a film of play
I saw them turn the handle by the screen
This may cause us laughter or dismay

Before important thinkings I shall pray
That what I see is real and not my dream
The world that we inhabit is a play

For erroneous sightings we will pay
For egocentric thoughts create crazed scenes
This may cause us laughter or dismay

I was hurled from bicycle to sky
Time went very slowly with no screams
I felt no fear, it was a role to play

Then I hit the pavement, hard and grey
I saw the stars of gold, the moon, her themes
I was back on earth with quiet dismay

I was young and flexible and green
The bicycle was rusty, what’s your scheme?
The world I saw was like a film or play
This knowledge may cause folly or dismay

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Populism and the internet – a toxic mix shaping the age of conspiracy theories

My first painting

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2018/nov/25/populism-and-the-internet-a-toxic-mix-shaping-the-age-of-conspiracy-theories?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

Britons who supported Brexit were considerably more likely to give credence to conspiracy theories than those who opposed it. Most worrying of all, though, is that 31% of Leave voters believed that Muslim immigration is part of a wider plot to make Muslims the majority in Britain, a conspiracy theory that originated in French far-right circles and is known as the “great replacement”. The comparable figure for Remain voters was 6%.

How has the internet affected all this? Our research showed that conspiracy theorists were early adopters, in that they perceived the unique usefulness of the early (pre-social media) web for people who believed propositions that would never get past the editorial gatekeepers of mainstream media. So part of the blogosphere was occupied by conspiracy theorists and what one might call conspiracist

Where do tears come from?

Where do tears come from,wet our eyes?

Where do griefs come from,where our sighs?

Will we have mourned enough one  new day?

Where does love come from, what does love say?

Does even God weep, where are his eyes?

Does even God weep as more children die?

Where is the saviour, where is the Cross?

Knock down the churches, they are no loss.

Weep with the grieving weep with the lost

Weep tears of blood for we all know the cost.

See vultures circling, eating the dead.

Can you love Western culture when you see where it’s led?

See the poor children hungry in school.

The scientists have proved they themselves are the fools.

Economics and warfare developed our brains

We are the victims by new mathematics chained.

Bring me the music bring me the song

The rhythm of the future beats like a gong

Lead us not into devastation

Our Unknown,dwelling in Heaven,

Helloed and helloed be Thy Name.

In Kingdom come, may Your Will be done

As it was not at 9/11

Give us this day,no more Dread.

Forgive us our Christmases,

As we forgive those who Christmas with us.

And lead us not into Devastation

But deliver us great acceptance and kindness

For Thine is the Wisdom,the Love and the Spirit,

As ever was, and shall be.Amen

Luminosity

Virtuosity,,….being very charitable.

Precocity,,,going mad before most of us do

Animosity,,,. ,…kindness to animals

Ferocity,,.,,having iron teeth and using them.

Democracy,,…. demons running a country.

Humorisity,,,….getting a degree in Yankee jokes

Criminology,,,, understanding criminals

Religiosity,,,.misinterpreting love.

Tasmania,,…going mad in the sunshine.

Curiosity,,,.a desire to heal the sick

Coping with loneliness

https://www.nytimes.com/2020/12/18/well/pandemic-loneliness-isolation-coronavirus.html

It’s a subjective feeling, but researchers have begun to find signals in the brain that put the need for social interaction on par with the need to eat. In a study published in November, scientists deprived participants of contact with other people and then scanned their brains. After just 10 hours of isolation in a lab — where they could read or draw but had no access to their phones or computers — people reported feeling lonely and craving social contact.

More ……

Research suggests you don’t even need to know the people you’re helping. Just donating money to a good cause might help, Dr. Uchino said. In a series of experiments, researchers found that people who gave money to others were happier than if they spent it on themselves.

But if you’re overwhelmed by giving, it can become detrimental. Instead, try hobbies like cooking, gardening, writing in a journal or even listening to music. Creative arts can reduce loneliness, too, and while singing in person in a choir might not be possible right now, singing from balconies or through virtual groups can be powerful.

This might also be a good time to help out your neighbors. Using the neighborhood social app NextDoor to randomly assign people to perform small acts of kindness — like delivering groceries, chatting over a fence or participating in a neighborhood cleanup event — Dr. Holt-Lunstad and her colleagues found that loneliness rates dropped from 10 percent of people to 5 percent in people who did the kind acts.

If you’ll teach me more Serbo-Croat

When we  humans are united
In the warm embrace of flesh.
We see the world all glowing gold
As our two souls enmesh,
Soul and body are a whole,
That sing to us their song.
Please bring your dear body back,
To where it still belong.
We’ll sit beside the oval lake
Where coots and moorhens float.
I’ll hold your hand and gaze at you,
If you read what I wrote!
If you’ll teach me Serbo-Croat
Whilst you tell me anecdotes.
While we play with the tv remote
While I look down your little red throat.
What is the gist of my thought?
If you tell me how many words I have wrote.
What terrible trouble you’ve brought.
Do you think my new suit is too smart
Because I like your new overcoat.
Because you are whom I have sought.
Where’s all that hash you bought?
If you’ll buy me a lovely new coat.
If you only knew what I thought.
If all other things come to naught.
If you’ll give me that salmon you caught.
As I’m feeling so overly wrought.
If you write me a tender love note.
I’m admiring the moth on your coat.
If you promise to carry my tote.
I saw a bumble bee  in your coat.
A bee wants a sniff at your throat.
God knows why I wrote what I wrote.
I blame the frog in my throat.
Shall we hire a small rowing boat?
Did you manage to sow a wild oat?
My plans seem to have all come to naught.
I am that lady you’ve caught.
What ethics and rules were you taught.
We could make love in this old rowing boat.
Would you like a small slice of cheese tart?
Wherever I look, there you aren’t!
I’m willing to try a la carte
Your gaze pierces me through like a dart.
Do you think we will do what we ought?
I feel like more artifice  when I’m alight
I’m going off to fly my own kite.
We can make love but please do not bite.
I love to sit in this brilliant sunlight.
You have such a loving  good heart
You have such great loving art.
You love all pesty modern art.
Do you know who I aren’t?
Let’s all grow up and take part.
I’d love my own horse and cart
In my Play I’ll give you the best part.
I think this is heavenly art.
Oh,I just woke up with a start……………
I’d love to bake you a tart.
You can’t make a pint into a quart.
I’ll let you have the best part.
An owl wants to borrow your coat,
Did you pay for the work on your moat.
Can you teach me to read what I wrote?
Who wrote me the loveliest note?
Woz you just a horny old goat.
I like cuisine if it’s haute.
I think your pants are too tight.
I love this silvmoonlightght.
Sitting with the Lords by the moat.
Sculptures and prints of my goat.
You tell me the story of nought.
I’m admiring your brazen bold heart.
Brass comes in useful for art.
I regret when we do have to part.
My lips are beginning to smart.
Is this or isn’t it art?

God’s not shrunk

genderless

I went into a coffee bar and asked for a black coffee.They said I was a racist
They said I was stupid for wanting an irrational number of cakes.
I went to Burnt Oak to register my husband’s death.Then they had the nerve to ask if I wanted him buried or cremated.
I went to the hospital for an X-ray.They said I didn’t look as if I was 18,I should bring my mother.So I said, with or without the coffin
I wanted a Burning Bush at the funeral but God said he don’t come here anymore.
I offered a lamb chop up as a sacrifice.God said, I may be dead but I’ve not shrunk.
I asked for a toasted beef sandwich but they said it takes too long to toast beef.
We went into a car park but it had very few amusements and no grass.No cars either.
We opened the car door with a coat hanger once when we lost the keys.Now with this electronic system, what could we use instead?
I rang my own doorbell last night as I felt so lonesome.Then it fell off the door.So I told myself it was lucky I had come by as I knew how to fix it.It’s just glued on like ethics are on politicians.
I saw a spider in the bath so I told it, it can only have 2 baths a week.
My neighbour gave me a blank look.So I filled it with laughter,

Watched by men who look without a face

Katherine

ethicspoetryreflectionsThinkings and poems  December 13, 2019 

Boris Johnson  thrown out by his wife
Now he has a different tole in life
He has a  girlfriend will he have more kids?
Lucian Freud was  surely up for this
They say he might have had perhaps  thirty   two
With all that sperm what is a man to do?
He could take Precautions as they say
I  prefer icecream  but let’s go  stray
Lucian Freud  was not a man to  rule
They say he once burned down his own Art School
He married once, he married twice but no
He would not be captured  in Soho
Beautiful and strange he made his mark
Boris Johnson   has a  nuclear heart
Winter will come down upon us all
Europe we are sad, almost appalled
Sadness for the surgeon who cured me
The cancer  grew  like rampant lush ivy
He is Greek and no-one else was skilled
To leave me looking   better  than God willed
Will he  go back   to where  his grandad  came?
Say a little prayer for my dear face
I don’t want  to suffer but  all will
We’ll die sooner,  sadly Boris kills
The NHS is  going slowly  to its grave
Watched by men who  look  without a face

About irony (Cambridge guide)

Weeds!!!

From… The Cambridge Handbook of irony

The nineteenth-century philosopher Soren Kierkegaard once famously wrote, “no genuinely human life is possible without irony” (Kierkegaard, 1992: 326). Irony may automatically arise in our thoughts and language for many personal and social reasons. As the philosopher Jonathan Lear also observed, irony “opens up opportunities to pierce illusions.”1 One of the main benefits of ironic thinking and expression in both verbal and nonverbal contexts is its capacity to “shake things up,” or to open people to disruption

Take Repose

By Katherine

We are great fools. ‘He has passed over his life in idleness,’ say we: ‘I have done nothing to-day.’ What? Have you not lived? That is not only the fundamental, but the most illustrious of all your occupations. ‘Had I been put to the management of great affairs, I should have made it seen what I could do.’ Have you known how to meditate and manage your life, you have performed the greatest work on all. For a man to show and set out himself, nature has no need of fortune; she equally manifests herself in all stages, and behind a curtain as well as without one. Have you known how to regulate your conduct, you have done a great deal more than he who has composed books. Have you known how to take repose, you have done more than he who has taken cities and empires. Montaign