1, this stupid thing just disconnected in the middle of an entry. i reckon i spend hours just waiting for its various bits to work. last few days i won't go on it at all till last thing; its the only way to get anything done!
2. tony proved he was right about the 17% unsocial hours. blast. that does not make me feel any better.
3. our bad boy full of it today; so was escorting olu all day; she's his fav target. and i know i'll cop it soon.
4. handover went on for 3 solid hours.
5. yoyo hanging about all day cos of bad boy. so couldn't do any s/w notes, synopsis 'homeward bound', or indeed a poem of any sort. yoyo has this numbing effect. like death.
6. every bank a/c i possess went over limit today! so not only did i put all my savings in; i now have sod all to my name and was late in much to yoyo's joy.
7. and it transpired that our dear leader knows nothing whatever about cancer or even diseases...i think that is a total disgrace.
8. and now i discovers we get unsocial for lates nights and w/e...but nothing whatever for earlies. but why won't ppl try nursing? oh its getting up and out at 4/5 in the morning! the absolute duty to NEVER be late on earlies...so you'd think the bosses would figure out that you incentivise earlies? think again.
9. i did win again on the lotto. but only £6. what i'm trying to remember is how did we activate that sticky law in first place? because thats where it came from; us, back there in first place, out in the darkness way back in time, well back from the orb.
anyhow fed up.
Friday, 4 September 2009
plague
Was thinking about the Black Death, which went worldwide in the 1300's and stayed for around 200 years. It used to come back every three years or so and wipe out entire settlements. The gruesome history is well known. But I been thinking of the pathology as depicted in woodcuts and paintings over that period. They had no reason to falsify what they show us. And right away I think they got more than 1 plague. The swiftest killer was evidently pneumonic plague. Its the same bacterium but it goes straight to the lungs and is an aerosol; that is it spreads by the breath, sneezes etc. And all the big killers, such as smallpox, are mainly aerosols. Now we just had a small outbreak in China. Notice the ppl trying to leave the area en masse? thats how it spreads; cos u get a large goup 1 has it, they all get it and they move into clean areas and instantly it goes with them. You know when its out of control because the ppl are moving out en masse, and your medics are dying so fast there's no-one to stop it, or learn. In fact thats what you look for; when the medics get out its bad, they running for their lives.
Now the latest outbreak of that doesn't sound nearly so virulent as the type in the Black Death. Our victims mostly survived, the authorities restricted movement, the meds [br. antibiotics] worked fine. But in the BD people died in terrible agony in 24 hours! coughing up vast quantities of blackened blood. So it was much more severe, even allowing for the primitive medicine of the era. But it is still recognisably pneumonic plague; first symptoms, like a bad cold?
Together with that they had bubonic plague; thats the bacterium spread by the bites [infected bloods exchange] of fleas carried by black rats. Which is why to this day the sight of a black rat anywhere in England results in dozens of bio-haz suited men destroying literally all wild life in the vicinity. Anyhow I've seen a modern case of bubonic p. And its only similar to the pics of the BD. The victim did have large blackened swellings on every gland. He did have pyrexia ++. He was saved but terribly brain-damaged. And like rabies lifelong severe depression. [rabies furiosa, the classic raving, fighting, salivating, insane , hydrophobic type I have seen too. No survivors] I seen all these on films. [serious ones]
This is the other form of rabies, where the victims usually survive with fast treatment; its mostly loss of motor co-ordination plus fever, insanity] My point is its nothing like as severe as BD. Which first symptom was a circle of red sores, coughs/sneezes. The enormeous pustulated buboes ANYWHERE, not just the glands. And these were agonising, bursting, stench. any recorded survivors simply never got to this stage. Anyone who did was gone. And look, a rabies symptom! The records say that ppl who suddenly got very friendly, went around kissing relatives and later insisting on close contact even with strangers were realised after a few years as bub plag. spreaders. Now rabies can do that. It affects the brain and stimulates the victim to contact others; and of course the disease then spreads, similar accounts of smallpox. Which I have also seen, pics, films. So it appears to me that a litle known affect of the big killers is this brain control; getting victims to 'herd'. Anyway we see at once that this particular plague is much more severe, and somehow different. Its odd that you get the two forms in tandem. But I think of the pics from Italy in particular and you know what? I think there was a third, unknown form. Look at the corpses. Some of them display small red ulcerations, which are all over the body; even the feet and legs. These are not buboes. They're something else. And it looks, from the paintings, that the victims are being thrown into the streets, there to die. Now why? To this day no-one but me thinks there's anything different. The aerosol pvictims were dead so fast they nearly all died indoors..the corpses collected nightly and buried en masse; usually by ppl who had already somehow survived. But you simply get no record whatever of ppl surviving this form, which everyone thinks is the same disease. The bub. form then as now were kept indoors. That entire family would die, and everyone knew it. They used to burn down the houses. The place quarantined; which is when we first find that word being used. But this form? They threw them out to die. Odd, isn't it? In one painting from Florence you see them being dragged along beside the cart. Now I think of it, were they being thrown still living into the pits? Whatever this was it was so awful they reacted like that? And look its not an aerosol. They masked against 'the miasma' aka as stench; for both the others, though in those days they knew nothing. But not this one? And you can see the absolute agony of the victims. This is a virus. A contact virus. And its fast. And deadly. No survivors. So thats still out there. Makes you think, doesn't it?
Now the latest outbreak of that doesn't sound nearly so virulent as the type in the Black Death. Our victims mostly survived, the authorities restricted movement, the meds [br. antibiotics] worked fine. But in the BD people died in terrible agony in 24 hours! coughing up vast quantities of blackened blood. So it was much more severe, even allowing for the primitive medicine of the era. But it is still recognisably pneumonic plague; first symptoms, like a bad cold?
Together with that they had bubonic plague; thats the bacterium spread by the bites [infected bloods exchange] of fleas carried by black rats. Which is why to this day the sight of a black rat anywhere in England results in dozens of bio-haz suited men destroying literally all wild life in the vicinity. Anyhow I've seen a modern case of bubonic p. And its only similar to the pics of the BD. The victim did have large blackened swellings on every gland. He did have pyrexia ++. He was saved but terribly brain-damaged. And like rabies lifelong severe depression. [rabies furiosa, the classic raving, fighting, salivating, insane , hydrophobic type I have seen too. No survivors] I seen all these on films. [serious ones]
This is the other form of rabies, where the victims usually survive with fast treatment; its mostly loss of motor co-ordination plus fever, insanity] My point is its nothing like as severe as BD. Which first symptom was a circle of red sores, coughs/sneezes. The enormeous pustulated buboes ANYWHERE, not just the glands. And these were agonising, bursting, stench. any recorded survivors simply never got to this stage. Anyone who did was gone. And look, a rabies symptom! The records say that ppl who suddenly got very friendly, went around kissing relatives and later insisting on close contact even with strangers were realised after a few years as bub plag. spreaders. Now rabies can do that. It affects the brain and stimulates the victim to contact others; and of course the disease then spreads, similar accounts of smallpox. Which I have also seen, pics, films. So it appears to me that a litle known affect of the big killers is this brain control; getting victims to 'herd'. Anyway we see at once that this particular plague is much more severe, and somehow different. Its odd that you get the two forms in tandem. But I think of the pics from Italy in particular and you know what? I think there was a third, unknown form. Look at the corpses. Some of them display small red ulcerations, which are all over the body; even the feet and legs. These are not buboes. They're something else. And it looks, from the paintings, that the victims are being thrown into the streets, there to die. Now why? To this day no-one but me thinks there's anything different. The aerosol pvictims were dead so fast they nearly all died indoors..the corpses collected nightly and buried en masse; usually by ppl who had already somehow survived. But you simply get no record whatever of ppl surviving this form, which everyone thinks is the same disease. The bub. form then as now were kept indoors. That entire family would die, and everyone knew it. They used to burn down the houses. The place quarantined; which is when we first find that word being used. But this form? They threw them out to die. Odd, isn't it? In one painting from Florence you see them being dragged along beside the cart. Now I think of it, were they being thrown still living into the pits? Whatever this was it was so awful they reacted like that? And look its not an aerosol. They masked against 'the miasma' aka as stench; for both the others, though in those days they knew nothing. But not this one? And you can see the absolute agony of the victims. This is a virus. A contact virus. And its fast. And deadly. No survivors. So thats still out there. Makes you think, doesn't it?
Thursday, 3 September 2009
lists
survived kerrys' weird timeless world again. boys kitted out, and behaved well too. Too late to visit mater. So was writing in poem and suddenly thought why am i doing this? They're already written. So made a list of ones usable; and that leaves only 48 to do by nov 2010; so heat turned down. And while I was at it did the base plan for TL2.
sleepy. think time to go to bed.
sleepy. think time to go to bed.
Wednesday, 2 September 2009
in a 2 n 8
gods i just finished both new poems an put them in blue book. i managed to destroy myself doing them. just crying like anything. getting in bath, dunno if they'll affect anyone else but i don't think i can ever read them again.
read story later.
read story later.
getting on
done two new poems this morning; need a bit of work then into blue book 4 [for publishing]. the one 'puss' a real heartbreaker; had a secret snivel in the garden. but no Cat Geoffrey type...I probably just don't have the talent; except to slavishly imitate. But thats all wrong. Anyhow there are also 2/3 oldies that can be kicked into something reasonable; and I got another percolating in my subcs. So only 87 to go.
Everyone swearing and getting angry; bloody yoyo strikes again! Finally got our payslips and my unsocial hours down to 17% and apparently he did it to Addy last month and I wondered why I was down £120 last month and its him! He's mucking about with the bloody hours again; he's always got some excuse re budgets or policies etc...but you notice he never restricts his own pay! Its just typical of 'managers' they earn 70k and yet they really believe they exist to defraud the nurses and get in your earholes on timekeeping and christ knows wot else...wot we need, nhs, banks, gov, is a Sudden Cull of bossman arseholes who don't or can't actually do the bloody job themselves. He gets back on Friday...and every nurse in the house is going to stampede all over the evil little sod. Worse according to Addy he says once its gone in an you been paid you can't get it amended!! Well he might survive nuclear war but he got no chance with 10 nurses who just lost about £220 each with no fucking redress!!
We wondered why he went on a/l and then every day he's off unit... he's been waiting for the BANG when we found out. Well he's going to find out on Friday that we can all the lot of us go off BANG several times. Each.
Everyone swearing and getting angry; bloody yoyo strikes again! Finally got our payslips and my unsocial hours down to 17% and apparently he did it to Addy last month and I wondered why I was down £120 last month and its him! He's mucking about with the bloody hours again; he's always got some excuse re budgets or policies etc...but you notice he never restricts his own pay! Its just typical of 'managers' they earn 70k and yet they really believe they exist to defraud the nurses and get in your earholes on timekeeping and christ knows wot else...wot we need, nhs, banks, gov, is a Sudden Cull of bossman arseholes who don't or can't actually do the bloody job themselves. He gets back on Friday...and every nurse in the house is going to stampede all over the evil little sod. Worse according to Addy he says once its gone in an you been paid you can't get it amended!! Well he might survive nuclear war but he got no chance with 10 nurses who just lost about £220 each with no fucking redress!!
We wondered why he went on a/l and then every day he's off unit... he's been waiting for the BANG when we found out. Well he's going to find out on Friday that we can all the lot of us go off BANG several times. Each.
my cat Geoffry
up at 0417 am all readt for work; and I've got a poem idea. I absolutely loved My Cat Geoffrey by christopher smart. He lived in 18oo's and went mad was duly thrown into bedlam and neglected. But his ppl were well-off so he had a room by himself and a few pieces of chalk; and day by day he would write little verses on the walls to the one person who loved him, his cat, geoffrey. The warders of course couldn't read, but after some months his behaviour improved so the family visited and found these verses and copied them I think he died shortly afterwards so the poem we have now is a compilation of verses by someone else...and its great, really. Now in two of my oldies you get the beginnings of something like that?
After all we have a similar love for one special cat. And lo! in a world of nutters smart and me are the ones locked up with the chalk! will have a go at work.
After all we have a similar love for one special cat. And lo! in a world of nutters smart and me are the ones locked up with the chalk! will have a go at work.
Tuesday, 1 September 2009
STARTED
Hoo. I posted 5 missives to various bigwigs this morning. Requesting to go p/t. And saying why. Now this is the NHS, you watch them trying to get this or that tweaked their way in a series of daft meetings, all telling me masterfully what they think I should settle for. In what? 50 years NOBODY has ever beaten me in anything. I just do wot I do; and ppl can just get out of the way. Well its the start. I know now I will do it all. But I chafe at every obstacle.
Good news. Rick [thats DaDa] has found a possible new job! A gas fitter. Thats good money! Usual problems, to do wiv driving the van. With his record? And then its in blooming Dartford! Who even breathes straight down there? Oh well I said to go for it. And he can then fund his Exotic Fish Business....I warned him to not get a Business a/c cos the banks pressure you into vast loans..which means your business is THEIRS...So I say banks are evil barstards like the IR and the social you tell them FUCK ALL. he says where do you put the profits? I says wots wrong wiv the Post Office? That giro thing?
I have not heard any news about Mr Stevens lately. I know they had the usual gathering of vampires last week and yet an unearthly silence ensues. So wot has the old fool done now I wonder?
Mr Stevens is grandad. And my exhusband. And a walking comedy.
Good news. Rick [thats DaDa] has found a possible new job! A gas fitter. Thats good money! Usual problems, to do wiv driving the van. With his record? And then its in blooming Dartford! Who even breathes straight down there? Oh well I said to go for it. And he can then fund his Exotic Fish Business....I warned him to not get a Business a/c cos the banks pressure you into vast loans..which means your business is THEIRS...So I say banks are evil barstards like the IR and the social you tell them FUCK ALL. he says where do you put the profits? I says wots wrong wiv the Post Office? That giro thing?
I have not heard any news about Mr Stevens lately. I know they had the usual gathering of vampires last week and yet an unearthly silence ensues. So wot has the old fool done now I wonder?
Mr Stevens is grandad. And my exhusband. And a walking comedy.
post-bath plot!
worked it out. 1. I'm going to retire from nursing in 4 years, might keep Agency going for a bit. Can't do it all plus slogging guts out endless hours working/travelling. Will tell Yoyo Friday, write HR ditto. Now everyone going to say don't; but I can't do everything; anyway fed up nursing. Dangerous, lousy pay and at this level they don't listen too good. If I also finish that psychology text 'how to help mentally ill ppl' and get say Rachel, Vernon and a few others to review it then thats a big useful contribution to nursing. I'd be happy that all these years practice resulted in something that helped doctors, nurses, tutors, psychologists and the mentally ill. So thats one thing. Then there's these films. Worked out what to do about those, even got that Cheda chap website for crits. I only got to start, get one, it may snowball. And these poems? No problem writing, no problem big output/limited time...the only problem is I need time to woolgather, no rushing about and everyday another pt crisis or something.
I think I can do it. So go p/t from September? I can jobshare with Marie; who has cancer.
I think I can do it. So go p/t from September? I can jobshare with Marie; who has cancer.
publish? u kidding?
hm. I am not pleased with me. Got home and did hswk and before bath read through my entire hoard of poetry. And its all crap! Admittedly its self -taught but then whose isn't? But too much is vast, particularly either personal or pretentious and anyway I hate it. A few are okay; last couple okay. Of course Psalm to Strange God isn't really a poem at all. So wot I got to do is bung in the maybe three oldies that pass muster, plus 4 recents that are okay, and then that means I got to do 93 effing DECENT poems by next November at the latest. Well its plenty of time I suppose. Hm, if I do what? 4 a week should manage. But they got to be a bloody sight better than those oldies ever get!!
Getting in bath! I always think better in the bath.
Getting in bath! I always think better in the bath.
Sunday, 30 August 2009
ewww..
How perfectly horrible! all the google ads on this thing are religionists! What have I to do with them? I have left them. I am a Graduate, I know all the Gods, and if you see I have one my special friend! I do feel quite cross. What would I want with those idiots?
I found a Jewish poetry site; and there was this one 'sex' so I looked at that because it seems to be a subject keeps cropping up and I don't know what they think about it. This bloke telling us he was taught all about anal sex as a kid with all these other boys by someone like a rabbi but it begins with M? couldn't believe my eyes! They;re quite cool about it. Notice no ladies present or they might have heard other views. You know I became RC when I was 24. Yes I was crazy about Jesus for donkeys years. But no-one talked about anything like that. You can't talk about sex with priests or monks for the very good reason they take it either as an invitation or you are being evil; which is always your fault. And it is fact that most catholic girls get some big surprises all the way through life because the Church SAYS women are okay but anything at all is a question and it is ALWAYS the fault of the women and the women got to do this be that or think so and so. In fact I thank all the Gods I never became a nun. It is a false and cruel religion. So you know the Jewish outlook if I don't exactly approve of teaching little boys this stuff well its a lot more realistic. So maybe I ought to write to the Pope who needs saving more than anyone else on Earth and tell him to convert to Judaism pronto and take all those nasty priests etcwith him? Because then at least they wouldn't be guilty of hypocrisy as all the lot of them are right now. So ones education is really a lifelong thing, whether you like it or not. And what I have learned is this; If your religion won't change, and you do, its because you growing up. So leave the bloody religion and go find out.
But A Clue remains; the Jewish religion site? its supposed to be a poetry site? Where were the poems? If someone or a group still produce their own fresh insights in poetry, music etc then thats live...if not then you got a dying formulistic load of crappy rules hiding power mad perves.
Anyhow another good day at work. I do like working with TJ; my idea of a nearly perfect nurse. Our bad boy pt got aggressiveagain today. I had to get between him and our very small 'child' pt in case he got hurt. Judging by the glaring at me for an hour afterwards my turn next. I think I got to give this bugger a talking to; subject ; STOP.
Saturday, 29 August 2009
My psalm to strange God.
It was the real beginning
Of all this remembering true history
And my terrible place in it.
When I was brought like a summons to the Birmingham Museum.
I was 15 and knew nothing
A few weird memories, a thing for religion
A scatty peasant girl, intent for to be a Hippie.
O a rebel, not a good woman.
So we stood and looked on the statue.
I never saw anything like that.
But that weeks swain saw it different.
I thought he was blind. He went, stupid man.
It was huge, a great bronze, of Satan falling from grace
Satan snatching, a hard hostile thief
Falling into corruption, falling into his place.
His great wings raised, all of it like lightning.
Its power, beauty, the sheer skill
Fascinated me. Yet I went, too young perhaps.
But a year layer returned, intent on seeing that.
I looked for a mark; C. ROBINSON. It should say 'Michaelangelo'
Quiet for a Saturday. No-one there.
Went looking to have a fag somewhere obscure;
Prayed what sin did that wondrous being do;
That beautiful angry Angel?
I noticed a dark blue curtain, hiding a darkened room.
Popped in there, to smoke and inspect exhibits
That sort of girl, always dropping in unexpected.
Usually it was boys or big holes in the road.
But this time I dropped in on God.
It was a very big room, dark but lit by spotlights.
First I looked in a cabinet.
A small, battered, dark gray circlet.
'A type of Davidic diadem', said the notice,
'Circa 1500 BC, probably original.'
'Found near Jerusalem, 1951.'
I looked at it, O ignorant child, it was iron, not gold.
And saluted old things, ancient kings, all holy and yesterdays news.
Next there were Roman altars. but I passed on
For their religion was contemptible.
Next a huge statue of Dagon.
A seagod by the fins at his feet, looking lost
Its hands broken, held out to receive, misery in the thing.
And then a row of very ancient altars
All circa 3000BC, yet in good nick.
I'd not known of these, so I looked my interest
On ideas of human sacrifice and was Molech
That burner of children somehow the basis
Of that Jehovah in Jerusalem?
They were all sandstone, squared. Ancient.
With little curved knobs at each apex.
Some had small pillars in front.
I not knowing why held my hand over each one.
Why I don't know; but even then I was being directed.
And one stopped, near the end. Shocking power
Rose invisible and steady from it.
I felt it twice, thrice. No mistake. It was live.
I knew something was there after all that time.
So I sat beside and waited. And saw absolutely nothing
The whole time I talked with the being who I felt sat there behind, above
I don't know. But I saw nothing. The only God
I never saw right away, as for years now I have
Was this being, ancient, quiet, lonely.
But a tiny voice, silvery, spoke in my head and chest
Ringing, quite clear, two voices yet one.
And, a pattern I seem to be prone to, I argued with him.
Who are you? I am God. No you ain't. Yes I am. [etc]
Why do you look on Dagon? Do you like him better?
Well he looks bit grumpy, so I reckon not.
Anyway what do you want? Please don't do that.
Oh I got to. Its called smoking, either I smoke or I swear.
I see. But what do you want?
To know what you are. And what do you want?
Well keep the noseyparkers away till I had this fag.
Here if you're God, what happened to King David?
Him? oh, he died. Do you covet that crown?
Not exactly. But no-one knows how he gets a son
To come back, what with everyone being dead, you see.
Perhaps you covet to be a king, a ruler?
Hm, well no. Unless I can be a Hippie type king.
In that case I put it in you, to keep it for me.
Okay, said I, complete idiot, I'll pass it on to the regular man
When he comes. Why can't I see you?
Because I am invisible. Perhaps I am unpleasing.
Well how do I know you ain't the Devil?
You don't. What happened to that Angel?
Oh I sent him away. He was a mistake.
He has got a very hard face, maybe you should have been nice to him?
So you like my statue? I never ever, ever type never
Saw such a wonderful statue. Its the work
I declared with real sincerity, of an absolute Master!
[And I still think so, too]. I made it you know.
This is when we really rowled. I insisted
That a man made the thing he said no it was him.
Then we argued about the name; he said its a hobby
Then he blew me away. He said he made the room!
Worse, especially for me; and got all the exhibits!
He asked me if I envied the Angel or the statuemaker?
We managed to get mad at each other for an hour.
O dear strange God, I am sorry.
What a perfect brat to go about annoying God.
He said, I made all that matter, and yes I argued
About science and all that when we paused
I suppose we'd run out of breath; and he laughed instead.
So I grew crafty. I suddenly asked him for prophecy.
And demanded all of it! [cos I had him down
As a little God, with not much to give, so I needed the lot]
'Why? what prophet shall you be?
Oh I want to win the lottery and be rich!
Which, a filthy rich or a clean prophet?
Oh filthy rich. I promise to give it back.
[Secretly planning to keep it and win lotteries
and pass exams forever; and yes deep down
I wanted to be a God too. What a cow.]
Then he said, but you may never come back.
So we also argued about that. Idiot girl.
I said he must be forgiving if I came back in 50 years!
Because I was determined to return next day
Just to win the argument. And as I got to my last fag
I suddenly wanted to know his name.
Another rowl. He said his name was 'L'.
In my tiny world that was daft, and of course
Being me I gladly said so. He then asked me
Can you bear it, all that sight? oh yes,
Being filthy rich is dead easy. But then, he said,
You could become God. Is that what you really want?
Now it was. But I had the grace to say
If I do I shall be a Hippie type God, just long enough to fix things.
A Hippie? That's very strange.
Oh its us Hippies will save the world. Hippies are great!
We got real music. Its called pop! And we love trees too.
It sounds quite wonderful, said strange God.
So I thought of singing him a pop song
But couldn't remember how they went
Since my mind suddenly filled with these old hymns instead.
God that was frustrating.
One day said strange God, you shall see me.
The only one who ever really will.
I said, [ghastly kid, no really], I still think you got a silly name God.
And you said, perhaps. But not at all like yours.
Donkeys years later I remembered. I tried to get back
Several times, some faint homing instinct. But never did.
So true is your word, O strange God.
All those years meeting Gods, recalling the frightful histories,
Seeing and seeing, broken over and over again.
But I did fight the good fight, telling them all
What I knew; over and over, making them see
The difference between right and wrong.
So give those sweeties half a chance and well..
Better off dead strange God. I didn't half hit them.
And finally got back, there to find
There was no statue ever. No room could be there
Beyond that wall is the street. No floors of that kind in all history
Never mind Birmingham in 1968...
Afraid at last, seeing of my idiocy, my terrible pride
I lay on the floor and cried.
Oh I wept a bucketful; but also for you,
Whyever didn't you strike me dead?
It would have been fair it would have been right
And so I cried all night. Quite loudly, as women do.
Well there's not a single God out there
Who will ever forget what I said. Or the bang on his head
As I said it. Several times each.
Because I remembered in stages...well its a lot
So sometimes I'd kiss it better, then recall something more
and go kick arse in a temper, just as before.
And did I have to be quite so psychedelic in my choice of language ?
So except for you my strange God
I have no friend in all creation.
So now I have remembered it all.
And its not really any of them you know
No its not really their fault at all.
But I don't think we're speaking.
Even though my language is now pitying and friendly.
And oh, I think the king turned up as well
But he's mental; only you can heal him
Poor soul. He's in for an helluva shock.
And so are you; my strange God.
All the Gods humanshaped being queer as weasels
It should be a good party, anyway.
Oh years and years of anguish
They destroy me the evil every night
Yet every morning I rise strong; and so we go on.
And you came and fetched me, I begged you to take it away
Being mortal and afraid of it, being broken with all I know.
And you did what you knew to do; and I urged you also
And now I know what I have to do
And be your clean prophet true; as was your will in the first place
O my strange God.
O let me tell the perfect truth to all who will listen
Keep me away from evil and corruption
Like the pure in heart I see God, always.
Make my words not be clumsy,
For my life is worthless till I do this
Teach the truth I know, and show them you
Accepting of me, my strange God,
And therefore accepting of them, all so injured
Not one sound in his bones, they are all crucified.
The Gods cannot know save I tell it.
The lessers will not see they are driven mad
Till they are given this medicine and comforted.
How shall all these lost men; children male and female
Know that you O strange God, like them. You like them!
How shall anyone know what is coming, and fight the dragon
Unless I tell them? Lend me grace to say truly what is good.
For I must be, and in this hymn I begin,
Thy truthspeller, the foreteller, the Godknower I be
For I know and see and trust in thee.
For Heaven and sanity and salvation and Third History
Begin with this, begin with thee my strange God.
O I see you all the time, always with me
You keep me from sin; though sometimes we have to dodge
And this now is what I feel about my strange God.
You are the helper I never knew
You are gentle and good and true
You have sweet wise eyes, that are blue and yet dark with wisdom.
You are the God of surprise.
I tracked down your name in scriptures
Well after 45 years it was a bit past high time
And there it was. EL. ELOHIM. EL SHADDAI.
Its you, isn't it? you could not be more pleasing, dear.
I remember bits now of the war of the Angels.
Wish I had a few of them now!
And I know you have kept your promise
O forgiver of horrible children, you do not despise girls.
I know at last that I am therewith you
In your holy and secret dwelling, your strange Angel
Walking with you amongst the firestones,
O help me at my task!
Don't let me turn coward and run
Or laze my days in the sun
Lest I miss the hour and destroy everyone!
Guide me to the Ark and help me go!
We gaze speechless upon each other
I float like a bright spark in your infinite mind
Yet you are not frightening. Stay with me!
At my end, let me see your beautiful eyes
Don't let me ever offend you!
Make my mouth and my mind clean
As befits a woman who sees God.
You are Wisdom, and therefore holy, therefore God.
You know what is pity, which is Good.
And so I love you, most dear strange God.
Friend, kind helper, forgiver of fools,
And you can laugh! what more can I ask of you
My ancient and lonely strange God.
My Lord and Commander, sweet Captain
Even my true Friend, ELOHIM. The LORD GOD.
Of all this remembering true history
And my terrible place in it.
When I was brought like a summons to the Birmingham Museum.
I was 15 and knew nothing
A few weird memories, a thing for religion
A scatty peasant girl, intent for to be a Hippie.
O a rebel, not a good woman.
So we stood and looked on the statue.
I never saw anything like that.
But that weeks swain saw it different.
I thought he was blind. He went, stupid man.
It was huge, a great bronze, of Satan falling from grace
Satan snatching, a hard hostile thief
Falling into corruption, falling into his place.
His great wings raised, all of it like lightning.
Its power, beauty, the sheer skill
Fascinated me. Yet I went, too young perhaps.
But a year layer returned, intent on seeing that.
I looked for a mark; C. ROBINSON. It should say 'Michaelangelo'
Quiet for a Saturday. No-one there.
Went looking to have a fag somewhere obscure;
Prayed what sin did that wondrous being do;
That beautiful angry Angel?
I noticed a dark blue curtain, hiding a darkened room.
Popped in there, to smoke and inspect exhibits
That sort of girl, always dropping in unexpected.
Usually it was boys or big holes in the road.
But this time I dropped in on God.
It was a very big room, dark but lit by spotlights.
First I looked in a cabinet.
A small, battered, dark gray circlet.
'A type of Davidic diadem', said the notice,
'Circa 1500 BC, probably original.'
'Found near Jerusalem, 1951.'
I looked at it, O ignorant child, it was iron, not gold.
And saluted old things, ancient kings, all holy and yesterdays news.
Next there were Roman altars. but I passed on
For their religion was contemptible.
Next a huge statue of Dagon.
A seagod by the fins at his feet, looking lost
Its hands broken, held out to receive, misery in the thing.
And then a row of very ancient altars
All circa 3000BC, yet in good nick.
I'd not known of these, so I looked my interest
On ideas of human sacrifice and was Molech
That burner of children somehow the basis
Of that Jehovah in Jerusalem?
They were all sandstone, squared. Ancient.
With little curved knobs at each apex.
Some had small pillars in front.
I not knowing why held my hand over each one.
Why I don't know; but even then I was being directed.
And one stopped, near the end. Shocking power
Rose invisible and steady from it.
I felt it twice, thrice. No mistake. It was live.
I knew something was there after all that time.
So I sat beside and waited. And saw absolutely nothing
The whole time I talked with the being who I felt sat there behind, above
I don't know. But I saw nothing. The only God
I never saw right away, as for years now I have
Was this being, ancient, quiet, lonely.
But a tiny voice, silvery, spoke in my head and chest
Ringing, quite clear, two voices yet one.
And, a pattern I seem to be prone to, I argued with him.
Who are you? I am God. No you ain't. Yes I am. [etc]
Why do you look on Dagon? Do you like him better?
Well he looks bit grumpy, so I reckon not.
Anyway what do you want? Please don't do that.
Oh I got to. Its called smoking, either I smoke or I swear.
I see. But what do you want?
To know what you are. And what do you want?
Well keep the noseyparkers away till I had this fag.
Here if you're God, what happened to King David?
Him? oh, he died. Do you covet that crown?
Not exactly. But no-one knows how he gets a son
To come back, what with everyone being dead, you see.
Perhaps you covet to be a king, a ruler?
Hm, well no. Unless I can be a Hippie type king.
In that case I put it in you, to keep it for me.
Okay, said I, complete idiot, I'll pass it on to the regular man
When he comes. Why can't I see you?
Because I am invisible. Perhaps I am unpleasing.
Well how do I know you ain't the Devil?
You don't. What happened to that Angel?
Oh I sent him away. He was a mistake.
He has got a very hard face, maybe you should have been nice to him?
So you like my statue? I never ever, ever type never
Saw such a wonderful statue. Its the work
I declared with real sincerity, of an absolute Master!
[And I still think so, too]. I made it you know.
This is when we really rowled. I insisted
That a man made the thing he said no it was him.
Then we argued about the name; he said its a hobby
Then he blew me away. He said he made the room!
Worse, especially for me; and got all the exhibits!
He asked me if I envied the Angel or the statuemaker?
We managed to get mad at each other for an hour.
O dear strange God, I am sorry.
What a perfect brat to go about annoying God.
He said, I made all that matter, and yes I argued
About science and all that when we paused
I suppose we'd run out of breath; and he laughed instead.
So I grew crafty. I suddenly asked him for prophecy.
And demanded all of it! [cos I had him down
As a little God, with not much to give, so I needed the lot]
'Why? what prophet shall you be?
Oh I want to win the lottery and be rich!
Which, a filthy rich or a clean prophet?
Oh filthy rich. I promise to give it back.
[Secretly planning to keep it and win lotteries
and pass exams forever; and yes deep down
I wanted to be a God too. What a cow.]
Then he said, but you may never come back.
So we also argued about that. Idiot girl.
I said he must be forgiving if I came back in 50 years!
Because I was determined to return next day
Just to win the argument. And as I got to my last fag
I suddenly wanted to know his name.
Another rowl. He said his name was 'L'.
In my tiny world that was daft, and of course
Being me I gladly said so. He then asked me
Can you bear it, all that sight? oh yes,
Being filthy rich is dead easy. But then, he said,
You could become God. Is that what you really want?
Now it was. But I had the grace to say
If I do I shall be a Hippie type God, just long enough to fix things.
A Hippie? That's very strange.
Oh its us Hippies will save the world. Hippies are great!
We got real music. Its called pop! And we love trees too.
It sounds quite wonderful, said strange God.
So I thought of singing him a pop song
But couldn't remember how they went
Since my mind suddenly filled with these old hymns instead.
God that was frustrating.
One day said strange God, you shall see me.
The only one who ever really will.
I said, [ghastly kid, no really], I still think you got a silly name God.
And you said, perhaps. But not at all like yours.
Donkeys years later I remembered. I tried to get back
Several times, some faint homing instinct. But never did.
So true is your word, O strange God.
All those years meeting Gods, recalling the frightful histories,
Seeing and seeing, broken over and over again.
But I did fight the good fight, telling them all
What I knew; over and over, making them see
The difference between right and wrong.
So give those sweeties half a chance and well..
Better off dead strange God. I didn't half hit them.
And finally got back, there to find
There was no statue ever. No room could be there
Beyond that wall is the street. No floors of that kind in all history
Never mind Birmingham in 1968...
Afraid at last, seeing of my idiocy, my terrible pride
I lay on the floor and cried.
Oh I wept a bucketful; but also for you,
Whyever didn't you strike me dead?
It would have been fair it would have been right
And so I cried all night. Quite loudly, as women do.
Well there's not a single God out there
Who will ever forget what I said. Or the bang on his head
As I said it. Several times each.
Because I remembered in stages...well its a lot
So sometimes I'd kiss it better, then recall something more
and go kick arse in a temper, just as before.
And did I have to be quite so psychedelic in my choice of language ?
So except for you my strange God
I have no friend in all creation.
So now I have remembered it all.
And its not really any of them you know
No its not really their fault at all.
But I don't think we're speaking.
Even though my language is now pitying and friendly.
And oh, I think the king turned up as well
But he's mental; only you can heal him
Poor soul. He's in for an helluva shock.
And so are you; my strange God.
All the Gods humanshaped being queer as weasels
It should be a good party, anyway.
Oh years and years of anguish
They destroy me the evil every night
Yet every morning I rise strong; and so we go on.
And you came and fetched me, I begged you to take it away
Being mortal and afraid of it, being broken with all I know.
And you did what you knew to do; and I urged you also
And now I know what I have to do
And be your clean prophet true; as was your will in the first place
O my strange God.
O let me tell the perfect truth to all who will listen
Keep me away from evil and corruption
Like the pure in heart I see God, always.
Make my words not be clumsy,
For my life is worthless till I do this
Teach the truth I know, and show them you
Accepting of me, my strange God,
And therefore accepting of them, all so injured
Not one sound in his bones, they are all crucified.
The Gods cannot know save I tell it.
The lessers will not see they are driven mad
Till they are given this medicine and comforted.
How shall all these lost men; children male and female
Know that you O strange God, like them. You like them!
How shall anyone know what is coming, and fight the dragon
Unless I tell them? Lend me grace to say truly what is good.
For I must be, and in this hymn I begin,
Thy truthspeller, the foreteller, the Godknower I be
For I know and see and trust in thee.
For Heaven and sanity and salvation and Third History
Begin with this, begin with thee my strange God.
O I see you all the time, always with me
You keep me from sin; though sometimes we have to dodge
And this now is what I feel about my strange God.
You are the helper I never knew
You are gentle and good and true
You have sweet wise eyes, that are blue and yet dark with wisdom.
You are the God of surprise.
I tracked down your name in scriptures
Well after 45 years it was a bit past high time
And there it was. EL. ELOHIM. EL SHADDAI.
Its you, isn't it? you could not be more pleasing, dear.
I remember bits now of the war of the Angels.
Wish I had a few of them now!
And I know you have kept your promise
O forgiver of horrible children, you do not despise girls.
I know at last that I am therewith you
In your holy and secret dwelling, your strange Angel
Walking with you amongst the firestones,
O help me at my task!
Don't let me turn coward and run
Or laze my days in the sun
Lest I miss the hour and destroy everyone!
Guide me to the Ark and help me go!
We gaze speechless upon each other
I float like a bright spark in your infinite mind
Yet you are not frightening. Stay with me!
At my end, let me see your beautiful eyes
Don't let me ever offend you!
Make my mouth and my mind clean
As befits a woman who sees God.
You are Wisdom, and therefore holy, therefore God.
You know what is pity, which is Good.
And so I love you, most dear strange God.
Friend, kind helper, forgiver of fools,
And you can laugh! what more can I ask of you
My ancient and lonely strange God.
My Lord and Commander, sweet Captain
Even my true Friend, ELOHIM. The LORD GOD.
questions.
Gay looked on me; but first he knelt. why? then he turned himself ino that filthy clowns face; said to me; 'I am the Devil, i am female, and I am evil.' yes, Gay is utterly evil. But evil, in itself is only that cruelty which gets ghastly pleasure in destroying innocence, beauty, right things. He has all that. I have none. So he is the evil one. But why female? Gay has hated anything feminine since forever, just because it might gentle him. So thats a lie? Strange this; because Gay absolutely NEVER lies to me. Everyone else never hears the truth; they even start asking, getting too close, he destroys them. All. Even those evil who believe just like the silliest 'saint' that he will be nice to them forever. In fact Gay is infinitely cruel. All come to the same atrocious end; if you can call everlasting life with that thing an 'end'. because he will never let them die or sleep or stop; but doubles their agony at every resistance. Which is why his 'heaven' is absolutely silent. In the far future I can hear their pain walking around talking; 'scrit-scree! scrit-scree!' and further on in time I cannot even go near, its unbearable even from the relative safety of earth back here in the deep past. Absolute nightmare. And all of them who suffer are what he calls the good. Because Gay said in that terrible pre-existence place the the good are the truly evil. So they suffer because of 1. false goodness 2. because they hate evil, and are cruel to the evil. who Gay says are the truly good; because they love evil which =him, and obey him in all things. So because they are this inside out good Gay brings them to a suffering more awful than the 'good' . Actually Gay damned everyone in that place. We are all damned; none are saved, there is no salvation. Except to turn to Anat-Anatta and leave. Now. Or perhaps Anatta knows how to fight. We certainly do after m.o.y. with that thing in charge. It was Gay who invented war. Which is why I try to hold him off. He made me the poor child Adversary. Anyhow he will not lie to me. But tempts me always to a life 'holy' a death 'holy' because he can control my mind I do not remember what he is. So why that? 'i am female'? UNLESS WE ARE LYING ABOUT OURSELVES/EACH OTHER?
Because I don't lie either; a seriously stupid habit when faced with such a thing. Look. I was not God then; and in all my lives being good 'Gods' they all end in disaster. You cannot be perfectly good unless you reduce yourself to a machine; cut off the ideas of what is good to something almost its antithesis; certainly not in Hell which is where we all are. So a girl says that. Male? No, look at me! Good? WHAT IS GOOD? In Hell? Good gets you agony of mind forever. So its not 'good' at all but suicide.
What happened there? That whoosh was sort of 'power' but i think thats when i was innoculated; so evil will not stay in my heart. Oh i can hate/lie/be enraged; and when i do get like that the Gods stand it they have to because i'm quite dangerous then, So why not fly into an wrath and kill him? I don't know. I don't get it. These spirits that bully me wiv their utterly irrational 'judgement' ARE ME. They say I am the Devil. Yet if we were saying the truth about each other then the 'Devil' is good=evil in Gay's sight. And obviously there is no light but hellfire in him. The fact is Gay 'buys' ppl. And I was enslaved long long ago. And they think God is nice. Why because they only know me, Allah, Zion a few others who run the shop more or less out of a sense of duty. But they have the real power; all that is his dupe gets the powers of God. His, mine I don't know.
All night raging sexual desire. I know its only the zippos. But someone soon will cop the lot! Annoying that ppl notice; why can't I hide it? And why the hell at work or in the middle f bloody tesco's??
Because I don't lie either; a seriously stupid habit when faced with such a thing. Look. I was not God then; and in all my lives being good 'Gods' they all end in disaster. You cannot be perfectly good unless you reduce yourself to a machine; cut off the ideas of what is good to something almost its antithesis; certainly not in Hell which is where we all are. So a girl says that. Male? No, look at me! Good? WHAT IS GOOD? In Hell? Good gets you agony of mind forever. So its not 'good' at all but suicide.
What happened there? That whoosh was sort of 'power' but i think thats when i was innoculated; so evil will not stay in my heart. Oh i can hate/lie/be enraged; and when i do get like that the Gods stand it they have to because i'm quite dangerous then, So why not fly into an wrath and kill him? I don't know. I don't get it. These spirits that bully me wiv their utterly irrational 'judgement' ARE ME. They say I am the Devil. Yet if we were saying the truth about each other then the 'Devil' is good=evil in Gay's sight. And obviously there is no light but hellfire in him. The fact is Gay 'buys' ppl. And I was enslaved long long ago. And they think God is nice. Why because they only know me, Allah, Zion a few others who run the shop more or less out of a sense of duty. But they have the real power; all that is his dupe gets the powers of God. His, mine I don't know.
All night raging sexual desire. I know its only the zippos. But someone soon will cop the lot! Annoying that ppl notice; why can't I hide it? And why the hell at work or in the middle f bloody tesco's??
Friday, 28 August 2009
remembering
13.05.1992.
Well?
Our eyes, blue sweet heaven! catch and hold
The hour is tense, our dreamings ache, the room is dim-
His great sex livens, mine in secret readies me,
In silent hope pleasure breathes - but the chance is slim.
O beautiful you! that silvery sweetcap hair
Your dear clear eyes, blue heaven smiling there-
That manly frame, and manly laugh, this gentle heart
Beating slow; we beating in twain fear, the rythym soft and clear.
In nights' hot ensabled wings shall we lie
Enchanted, know in perfum'd embrace the quiet peace
Of lovers tryst met; once made no more
To dream the fever'd dreams of yearned for bliss?
He stumbles to me, dearest Vernon, slow and shy and all uncertain,
As in sleep, close to me - but O! that hag Anxiety
Hath blinded me! Was this so close a threat, or worse -
A cruel and dreadful hard dismissal curst?
All befogged, O dazzled by this sudden treasure
I turn away! - the tide it turns, and dies the moments measure.
Alone to grope blankly to some dreary room
Wondering if perchance chance will come again, and when?
O weeks and weeks of bright-eye'd nitwit guile
[In vain shall lovers tread the pace of the dignified]
Crashes in injur'd heaps of discovered female wiles.
My proud knight all cold, indifferent; i savour the empty air; I the fool who didn't dare!
All night I watch the idiot stars, the gibbous moon
Squeaking faintly in their endless orbit, this night never ending.
This empty air, this cold bed, that vacant chair- because my Vernon doesn't care.
Or why not pounce and drag me laughing to his lair?
Fools that we are! Nows the hour to mend the rift
To heal the hurt and forgive the swift stab
Of my lovers' clumsy parting! God, I want him-
Does he want me? All night the moon and me adrift in mutual pity.
Hear now the wisdom of immortal Innocence!
-the world around is all made new-
Light cascading on the leaves, falls in rivers through the trees
In emerald armour the grassy spears unfurling
All the beasts in silence watching, all the birds in drifts a-swirling
Over all our Mother Earth, the seasons magically turning-
And each little Eden a couch for Loves' bright touch
All our lives lived for all this sweet much
To crown and make immortal each head that bows.
Dear brave Vernon, forever defending great rights,
Or righting global wrongs - but your fingers are chalk'd and dry
And dry the knowledge in your eye;
Your heart's all blocked with damn fool conventions-
And so am I! O let your lips thirst for me!
O seize this rare, this treasure, this very gleam
Of very heaven! Forget your harness and your station
Your pride in place, or wealth, or nation;
With me this day a poem bless and fashion!
Know you not that Virtue's other story
[for virtue walks arm'd, but with a glowing heart]
Is to sip from my white and blameless breasts
The song, the light, the colours,- and the glory?
Or shall it be that sweet blue heaven only smiles
Never to greet Hope's pale lips with fiery bliss-
But smiling on , O kindly blindly smiling;
Unseeing of your heart's terrible a-dying?
xxxx
that was a very nice man. i don't think he ever really recovered. gods bless v.g.
Well?
Our eyes, blue sweet heaven! catch and hold
The hour is tense, our dreamings ache, the room is dim-
His great sex livens, mine in secret readies me,
In silent hope pleasure breathes - but the chance is slim.
O beautiful you! that silvery sweetcap hair
Your dear clear eyes, blue heaven smiling there-
That manly frame, and manly laugh, this gentle heart
Beating slow; we beating in twain fear, the rythym soft and clear.
In nights' hot ensabled wings shall we lie
Enchanted, know in perfum'd embrace the quiet peace
Of lovers tryst met; once made no more
To dream the fever'd dreams of yearned for bliss?
He stumbles to me, dearest Vernon, slow and shy and all uncertain,
As in sleep, close to me - but O! that hag Anxiety
Hath blinded me! Was this so close a threat, or worse -
A cruel and dreadful hard dismissal curst?
All befogged, O dazzled by this sudden treasure
I turn away! - the tide it turns, and dies the moments measure.
Alone to grope blankly to some dreary room
Wondering if perchance chance will come again, and when?
O weeks and weeks of bright-eye'd nitwit guile
[In vain shall lovers tread the pace of the dignified]
Crashes in injur'd heaps of discovered female wiles.
My proud knight all cold, indifferent; i savour the empty air; I the fool who didn't dare!
All night I watch the idiot stars, the gibbous moon
Squeaking faintly in their endless orbit, this night never ending.
This empty air, this cold bed, that vacant chair- because my Vernon doesn't care.
Or why not pounce and drag me laughing to his lair?
Fools that we are! Nows the hour to mend the rift
To heal the hurt and forgive the swift stab
Of my lovers' clumsy parting! God, I want him-
Does he want me? All night the moon and me adrift in mutual pity.
Hear now the wisdom of immortal Innocence!
-the world around is all made new-
Light cascading on the leaves, falls in rivers through the trees
In emerald armour the grassy spears unfurling
All the beasts in silence watching, all the birds in drifts a-swirling
Over all our Mother Earth, the seasons magically turning-
And each little Eden a couch for Loves' bright touch
All our lives lived for all this sweet much
To crown and make immortal each head that bows.
Dear brave Vernon, forever defending great rights,
Or righting global wrongs - but your fingers are chalk'd and dry
And dry the knowledge in your eye;
Your heart's all blocked with damn fool conventions-
And so am I! O let your lips thirst for me!
O seize this rare, this treasure, this very gleam
Of very heaven! Forget your harness and your station
Your pride in place, or wealth, or nation;
With me this day a poem bless and fashion!
Know you not that Virtue's other story
[for virtue walks arm'd, but with a glowing heart]
Is to sip from my white and blameless breasts
The song, the light, the colours,- and the glory?
Or shall it be that sweet blue heaven only smiles
Never to greet Hope's pale lips with fiery bliss-
But smiling on , O kindly blindly smiling;
Unseeing of your heart's terrible a-dying?
xxxx
that was a very nice man. i don't think he ever really recovered. gods bless v.g.
Thursday, 27 August 2009
effing cicero
finished it. well skimmed vast tracts on civic duty, cozening false support by bribes + good acting. all of it sort of wrong because its directed, a successful life [civic, fame, wealth,]= a wise life? i dunno. christians lap it up, but none of this is virtue proper. which should be self won, ready for hardship, stress, something evil on u? yes? and in times of ease only directed to be modest? moderate? thats wot i think anyway. so wot shall virtue be founded on? for the Greeks and Romans patrotic /civic life. For religionists they think to bribe God? but really there is a kind of rigid and sterile structure to these ideas. you know they practically draw diagrms; this virtue depends on that ne, blah blah.
so start from the beginning, as if i were again the chief of a bunch of immigrants who got concepts and must give them a way or rule for being nice to know. why? well i want them to live, be well, decent companions and ready to love. Because Anat-Anatta is like a hive mind? there's no you in there to love me, so to speak. So in Anat there was no speech, no seperate you for me to love and touch and be glad with. so Anat-Anatta divided and thus was us; the you's and the you's. see? so Anat-Anatta wants to know what they-us look like, what they-us is. And found something which turned out to be spacetime but how it got there and why its mostly spiritland except down below where it turns physical on you i don't know; only i think the Anat-Anattas felt it; like a draught? so they-us are mostly intelligence but this was new ideas!
so i think i begin where the idiot religionists think is the end. i know my concepts will go on, mostly in other bits of the place. they will have different lives, different minds. so i need them to remember, to love learning and be fitting their new kind of existences. i do not want ant troubles to afflict them. i want them to be able to live wherever they need to, and always to fit..u wld call it adapt, and above all to remember us, the way back and to enjoy each other and this new existence. right? so i say they need always three; faith, hope and love; which some call charity. yes i suppose the love one feels for children, fathers, lovers all of which is good; but u have to be ready to give and accept even very different things. so the top love is this open to appeal, sensible of need kind of love, which yes is charity. so virtue then starts as these the ground of what it is, what its for, and yet leaves room for all kinds of new existences.
And so a lot of virtues are really a kindly, reasonable, balanced character. no strain. if your idea of virtue is so tough you simply queue for the nearest bonfire then your religion has made you ill.
Some ppl of course are evil; but you see how that started. And everyone hates the evil; so the base state of all living is the opposite; or they would be very popular instead. so that is evidence that all of you began good. even those trained and addicted to evil only do it because of the history of the universe; they know the Gods reward them. they want to live/succeed, exactly like the rest. And over time all of you have become hard, selfish, stupid, cruel, insane of money which is the only real god any of you love round here, even those 'philosophers' who affect to despise money will not starve. And you notice they have no families. So they are putting on a good show. Thats not virtue.
So now yes i will be honest, reasonable, decent, clean, lovimg. But to deprive myself of innocent pleasure because i obey wot must be a bloody daft god is insane. Life has hardship anyway; why add to the burden? i will be an incorrupt official in my work, i will occaisionaly be generous to beggars, but i will be generous a lot more often to those who i love. And i will not play this asinine game of which virtue is best. i will try to have them all, but in modesty keep them hid. And they will be mine, not an act. And wot wisdom is is to know what is best to do or be each moment that fate puts this or that before you. Now what is a wise man? For a start he knows history, and he makes up his mind to be ready for the many trials of life; always knowing that love and faith and hope are what makes him a virtuous man. And yes we learn courage, like them all we learn it. No baby is born so brave! So no worries. You pick n mix, you train yourself, life tests you and behold! you got a virtue.
So wot i says to Kant and his categorical imperative? ought is not an imperative because nobody HAS to obey. 'ought' is what it sounds like, u ought but will u? 99% of the time u ask a bloke that as he's running away. No there are no imperatives, wthout love in all its forms there is no real virtue at all. So stop giving each thingie a name and start being alive in yourselves. And anyway Kant is wellnamed, because like a lot of these 'philosophers' he was a right asshole. So made up my mind.
Thank God now i can think about something else.
so start from the beginning, as if i were again the chief of a bunch of immigrants who got concepts and must give them a way or rule for being nice to know. why? well i want them to live, be well, decent companions and ready to love. Because Anat-Anatta is like a hive mind? there's no you in there to love me, so to speak. So in Anat there was no speech, no seperate you for me to love and touch and be glad with. so Anat-Anatta divided and thus was us; the you's and the you's. see? so Anat-Anatta wants to know what they-us look like, what they-us is. And found something which turned out to be spacetime but how it got there and why its mostly spiritland except down below where it turns physical on you i don't know; only i think the Anat-Anattas felt it; like a draught? so they-us are mostly intelligence but this was new ideas!
so i think i begin where the idiot religionists think is the end. i know my concepts will go on, mostly in other bits of the place. they will have different lives, different minds. so i need them to remember, to love learning and be fitting their new kind of existences. i do not want ant troubles to afflict them. i want them to be able to live wherever they need to, and always to fit..u wld call it adapt, and above all to remember us, the way back and to enjoy each other and this new existence. right? so i say they need always three; faith, hope and love; which some call charity. yes i suppose the love one feels for children, fathers, lovers all of which is good; but u have to be ready to give and accept even very different things. so the top love is this open to appeal, sensible of need kind of love, which yes is charity. so virtue then starts as these the ground of what it is, what its for, and yet leaves room for all kinds of new existences.
And so a lot of virtues are really a kindly, reasonable, balanced character. no strain. if your idea of virtue is so tough you simply queue for the nearest bonfire then your religion has made you ill.
Some ppl of course are evil; but you see how that started. And everyone hates the evil; so the base state of all living is the opposite; or they would be very popular instead. so that is evidence that all of you began good. even those trained and addicted to evil only do it because of the history of the universe; they know the Gods reward them. they want to live/succeed, exactly like the rest. And over time all of you have become hard, selfish, stupid, cruel, insane of money which is the only real god any of you love round here, even those 'philosophers' who affect to despise money will not starve. And you notice they have no families. So they are putting on a good show. Thats not virtue.
So now yes i will be honest, reasonable, decent, clean, lovimg. But to deprive myself of innocent pleasure because i obey wot must be a bloody daft god is insane. Life has hardship anyway; why add to the burden? i will be an incorrupt official in my work, i will occaisionaly be generous to beggars, but i will be generous a lot more often to those who i love. And i will not play this asinine game of which virtue is best. i will try to have them all, but in modesty keep them hid. And they will be mine, not an act. And wot wisdom is is to know what is best to do or be each moment that fate puts this or that before you. Now what is a wise man? For a start he knows history, and he makes up his mind to be ready for the many trials of life; always knowing that love and faith and hope are what makes him a virtuous man. And yes we learn courage, like them all we learn it. No baby is born so brave! So no worries. You pick n mix, you train yourself, life tests you and behold! you got a virtue.
So wot i says to Kant and his categorical imperative? ought is not an imperative because nobody HAS to obey. 'ought' is what it sounds like, u ought but will u? 99% of the time u ask a bloke that as he's running away. No there are no imperatives, wthout love in all its forms there is no real virtue at all. So stop giving each thingie a name and start being alive in yourselves. And anyway Kant is wellnamed, because like a lot of these 'philosophers' he was a right asshole. So made up my mind.
Thank God now i can think about something else.
on about virtue again
dreamed all night hearty conversations with i dunno Greeks? blokes in frocks anyway. what do i know about virtue? well no-one ever thinks about them. they are carefully classified, adumbrated...but apart from this universal approval how do i know them if someone else got, eg humility? i'll think he's a creep. someone utterly truthful...+ like me telling my worst enemy how to destroy me/my loved ones? not clever is it? so this heavy insistence on virtue; and its unspoken corollary that YOU can 'secretly know you a virtuous saintly type and God of course because if he don't notice you 1. wasted your energy and 2. no-one will ever notice you if he doesn't or something. look at my 3 magic touchstones. they are the cultivation of tolerance, sympathy and an accepting attitude. are they virtues? i dunno but if you a devil and i win against Gay you bloody watch everybody getting all histrionic about them! whereas right now the religionists would cheerfully kill me; the rest [if any] usual unthinking cretins; this isn't what mama taught me as i sat on my potty so it is false and she a crazy...
because they work, whereas it seems to me that training yourself in this virtue or that you are fixing yourself; in both senses of that word. its useful, its a blanket system of secret self approval. but apart from that there's no seperate department of you which is the virtue bit.
like the Roman 'it is sweet and noble to die for your country'...actually 'fatherland' in the latin. is it? death by violence is awful. and they tell this to very young men who are full of their sex juice and therefore slightly mad, too young to know its old men who war but do not fight themselves...and so on it goes. all i'm saying is i got to fathom the thing out. for if you see i just blasted my way out of all self- enslavements religious or otherwise. i know the truth...so i begin again. from reality, as only i can.
because they work, whereas it seems to me that training yourself in this virtue or that you are fixing yourself; in both senses of that word. its useful, its a blanket system of secret self approval. but apart from that there's no seperate department of you which is the virtue bit.
like the Roman 'it is sweet and noble to die for your country'...actually 'fatherland' in the latin. is it? death by violence is awful. and they tell this to very young men who are full of their sex juice and therefore slightly mad, too young to know its old men who war but do not fight themselves...and so on it goes. all i'm saying is i got to fathom the thing out. for if you see i just blasted my way out of all self- enslavements religious or otherwise. i know the truth...so i begin again. from reality, as only i can.
the ' moral' heavies' squad..
hm. been reading cicero. almost exactly the same draggy emphasis on moral 'character'[ well all very uptight ppl have the same 'repressed fury' personality so they mean the accepted parameters of behaviour underlying that; so okay lets call it character. ] as all ancient/ medieval and religious authorities i have ever read or heard of. the only two who diverge are wittgenstein and nietzsche. now i must have read nearly all. couldn't plough thru some. namely aristotle and kant. basically i just skimmed thru outlines in those overview txts. i must be the only girl in creation who read aquinas and luther before i was 17! used to always go either to library or church when skipping school. wound up Gee-its-the whizz....but did i know ANY arithmetic? french? nope.
Anyhow Cicero strikes me as earnestly trying to work out what is a good life. then you got greeks various ditto. then you have an avalanche of medieval religious types carefully avoiding the flames; they not only recommend heroic virtues to housewives but you can have a lifeplan only differing from Perfection if you are so picky you got a micrscope!
It seems to me these men never asked well, what is A good life? Its a life with a reasonable amount of pleasure in it, no great trials or dangers requiring heroics, a life where ones decency is something both you, your neighbors and family can rely on in times of stress. Is it not also to be equipped with both the gentle virtues [patience, hunility, kindness] AND the hard virtues [courage, truthfulness, that thing where you bear the burden or penalty of another? wot it called? i forget, anyway thats another hard virtue.
Anyhow he rabbits on; and thats when i saw it. Their idea that if you are moraly perfect that equals wisdom which equals happiness EVEN UNDER ABSOLUTE LOSS AND TORTURE. They seem to think of moral character as being some siut of armour you put on and then its an invariate; whatever happens it is unassailable so it can't change, neither do you so you are therefore perfectly happy; which you will remember equals perfectly wise!
Now I think their ideas of what virtues ARE could bear some analysis. A man in such a state is not happy unless he also happens to be braindead. But i know the terrible finality of religious dogma. you are not allowed to question virtue itself!
Now look at it as descibed by nietzshe. you know he thought all the 'encouraged' virtues as per organised religion were for to keep the church/king in power? so the virtues wre 'slave' virtues; such as obedience to authority? i think he's right, but he was blind to the fact that ALL religious/ideological systems do the same. but its not a 'plot' by one group against another, its not directed by a machievalian secret order. Its just how one individual after another accepts a particular view of the universe and the weight of opinion simply drags all other concommitant concepts/individuals with it. Its because mankind just will not grow up! the rulers find it convenient the their inferiors believe firmly, for example that their justice or rewards will be settled in full after death. so they do not ask for a share NOW. They do not insist on a fair legal system, they will not drag their case before any judge NOW]; mainly because we all know all judges are thick as thieves with coruption and will always find in favour of the money pig of the week. As far as I can see we need to start over; knowing the real universe as it is, lets first find out what is virtue? does it by itself make you perfect, wise, happy, good, and useful to society and your loved ones in peace AND war?? AHA!! You never thought of it like that, did you? In fact take honesty and courage. we all agree these are the two base virtues? but are they inflexible? if my baby is in danger of molech then to save that child i will turn coward, weep, lie, run way from my duties, kill, betray my lover....and in each fr instance what i do is good; and virtue be blowed. And I can't understand why he repeatedly says virtue equals wisdom equals happy. Give these ppl a horse and they'd run up a nostril just to get to the other end and roar apothegms out its arse.
Look a virtue is a habit of self control which is sparked by the interpretation of the circumstances. If any habit becomes inflexible yes it will end in the flames. it is contrary to reality; which sets a certain demand on all alive? Adapt and survive?? yes that one. Another thing; a happy life and a good life are not identical. a perfectly good man was born into slavery. his woman scorned him. the flossies overcharged. his baby died in his arms of the measles. he starves because the pay is too low. he goes blind. he has nasty neighbors. the council tax rolls over year ater year; he MUST pay it, but he can't ever pay it off; so he continues to starve and yet is in continuous ever increasing debt....you get the idea? he is perfectly moral; got innumerable virtues. but he's not wise enough to turn rebel, admit the world/life he got stinks...do you see he's not happy or wise and DEFINITELY some god don't like him?
so the three states not equivalent. In fact I think Nietzshe is right; we need to stop building vast intricate hallowed systems of morals/ethic/virtues. I say start from examining what are virtues. are they flexible, who is the beneficiary? and then descibe what is a good life for each group. men, women, children, at work, in government, military, etc...we might be surprised. but don't forget the spiritlands..you equip yourself for that now. oh and from Socrates on they all say the best thing to do all your life is prepare for death!!
Sure if you know when and HOW you will die. In fact very few ppl can die in even peace unless they're uncs, never mind dignity. what a waste of your life/mind, trying to get ready for something you have no idea about!!
CICERO ET AL ARE BARMY....
Anyhow Cicero strikes me as earnestly trying to work out what is a good life. then you got greeks various ditto. then you have an avalanche of medieval religious types carefully avoiding the flames; they not only recommend heroic virtues to housewives but you can have a lifeplan only differing from Perfection if you are so picky you got a micrscope!
It seems to me these men never asked well, what is A good life? Its a life with a reasonable amount of pleasure in it, no great trials or dangers requiring heroics, a life where ones decency is something both you, your neighbors and family can rely on in times of stress. Is it not also to be equipped with both the gentle virtues [patience, hunility, kindness] AND the hard virtues [courage, truthfulness, that thing where you bear the burden or penalty of another? wot it called? i forget, anyway thats another hard virtue.
Anyhow he rabbits on; and thats when i saw it. Their idea that if you are moraly perfect that equals wisdom which equals happiness EVEN UNDER ABSOLUTE LOSS AND TORTURE. They seem to think of moral character as being some siut of armour you put on and then its an invariate; whatever happens it is unassailable so it can't change, neither do you so you are therefore perfectly happy; which you will remember equals perfectly wise!
Now I think their ideas of what virtues ARE could bear some analysis. A man in such a state is not happy unless he also happens to be braindead. But i know the terrible finality of religious dogma. you are not allowed to question virtue itself!
Now look at it as descibed by nietzshe. you know he thought all the 'encouraged' virtues as per organised religion were for to keep the church/king in power? so the virtues wre 'slave' virtues; such as obedience to authority? i think he's right, but he was blind to the fact that ALL religious/ideological systems do the same. but its not a 'plot' by one group against another, its not directed by a machievalian secret order. Its just how one individual after another accepts a particular view of the universe and the weight of opinion simply drags all other concommitant concepts/individuals with it. Its because mankind just will not grow up! the rulers find it convenient the their inferiors believe firmly, for example that their justice or rewards will be settled in full after death. so they do not ask for a share NOW. They do not insist on a fair legal system, they will not drag their case before any judge NOW]; mainly because we all know all judges are thick as thieves with coruption and will always find in favour of the money pig of the week. As far as I can see we need to start over; knowing the real universe as it is, lets first find out what is virtue? does it by itself make you perfect, wise, happy, good, and useful to society and your loved ones in peace AND war?? AHA!! You never thought of it like that, did you? In fact take honesty and courage. we all agree these are the two base virtues? but are they inflexible? if my baby is in danger of molech then to save that child i will turn coward, weep, lie, run way from my duties, kill, betray my lover....and in each fr instance what i do is good; and virtue be blowed. And I can't understand why he repeatedly says virtue equals wisdom equals happy. Give these ppl a horse and they'd run up a nostril just to get to the other end and roar apothegms out its arse.
Look a virtue is a habit of self control which is sparked by the interpretation of the circumstances. If any habit becomes inflexible yes it will end in the flames. it is contrary to reality; which sets a certain demand on all alive? Adapt and survive?? yes that one. Another thing; a happy life and a good life are not identical. a perfectly good man was born into slavery. his woman scorned him. the flossies overcharged. his baby died in his arms of the measles. he starves because the pay is too low. he goes blind. he has nasty neighbors. the council tax rolls over year ater year; he MUST pay it, but he can't ever pay it off; so he continues to starve and yet is in continuous ever increasing debt....you get the idea? he is perfectly moral; got innumerable virtues. but he's not wise enough to turn rebel, admit the world/life he got stinks...do you see he's not happy or wise and DEFINITELY some god don't like him?
so the three states not equivalent. In fact I think Nietzshe is right; we need to stop building vast intricate hallowed systems of morals/ethic/virtues. I say start from examining what are virtues. are they flexible, who is the beneficiary? and then descibe what is a good life for each group. men, women, children, at work, in government, military, etc...we might be surprised. but don't forget the spiritlands..you equip yourself for that now. oh and from Socrates on they all say the best thing to do all your life is prepare for death!!
Sure if you know when and HOW you will die. In fact very few ppl can die in even peace unless they're uncs, never mind dignity. what a waste of your life/mind, trying to get ready for something you have no idea about!!
CICERO ET AL ARE BARMY....
Wednesday, 26 August 2009
YIN + YANG
YIN + YANG.
Shouts like yobs, tattoos gross
Rolls of belly like lard falling out
Boozy, such pushy sexy, hairy, smelly
Or deliberately prim, glaring; in bowler and suit
Or from out a black burka, evil tramps.
Nasty things have women become-
Take your freedom! But they take the wrong one!
Look how they take sex! sweaty, chesty,
Scratchy and slappy and banging on top
Or buggering about with the doorknobs...
This is not passion, not ardent they;
Nothing like that is love done to a man
The men pretend hugely
That they're not being sick below stairs...
Puzzled, I ask the Universe
Hey what gives? What's wrong
With these heart-shattering drabs?
And that Great Sigil, the yin and the yang, slowly appears...
See its a circle containing two blobs?
The white the oppressor of the dark-
Yet both contain a core of the other
Pondering I see it spin
Slowly, gently; now one atop, now the other-
Finally I see it with a great laugh of truth
IT IS AN EGG!
IT IS THE UNIVERSE!
O IT IS THE LAW!
They are tiny embryos swimming
Close lovers in their prison
But it is their egg from which they shall hatch
And lo! it seems huge
For once upon a time i have come and asked...
And they changing, cease to fight for space
But step out, free them both or neither
The male o! what a beauty! The female, o! what a beauty!
Their arms linked, their hair scattered with stars
Tall, sweet, brilliant and smiling
The man, courage, genius, skill, o beautiful sex!!
HE IS VITAL!
The woman, gentle, merciful, full of concepts, o beautiful sex!!
SHE IS CRUCIAL!
And they are gleaming, gorgeous, fragrant...
These the gods, do they kick?
No, twin pillars of life and mind are they..
Look! the gods, male and female - why..
They smile and they kiss....
xxxxxx
Shouts like yobs, tattoos gross
Rolls of belly like lard falling out
Boozy, such pushy sexy, hairy, smelly
Or deliberately prim, glaring; in bowler and suit
Or from out a black burka, evil tramps.
Nasty things have women become-
Take your freedom! But they take the wrong one!
Look how they take sex! sweaty, chesty,
Scratchy and slappy and banging on top
Or buggering about with the doorknobs...
This is not passion, not ardent they;
Nothing like that is love done to a man
The men pretend hugely
That they're not being sick below stairs...
Puzzled, I ask the Universe
Hey what gives? What's wrong
With these heart-shattering drabs?
And that Great Sigil, the yin and the yang, slowly appears...
See its a circle containing two blobs?
The white the oppressor of the dark-
Yet both contain a core of the other
Pondering I see it spin
Slowly, gently; now one atop, now the other-
Finally I see it with a great laugh of truth
IT IS AN EGG!
IT IS THE UNIVERSE!
O IT IS THE LAW!
They are tiny embryos swimming
Close lovers in their prison
But it is their egg from which they shall hatch
And lo! it seems huge
For once upon a time i have come and asked...
And they changing, cease to fight for space
But step out, free them both or neither
The male o! what a beauty! The female, o! what a beauty!
Their arms linked, their hair scattered with stars
Tall, sweet, brilliant and smiling
The man, courage, genius, skill, o beautiful sex!!
HE IS VITAL!
The woman, gentle, merciful, full of concepts, o beautiful sex!!
SHE IS CRUCIAL!
And they are gleaming, gorgeous, fragrant...
These the gods, do they kick?
No, twin pillars of life and mind are they..
Look! the gods, male and female - why..
They smile and they kiss....
xxxxxx
yin + yang
working on a new one; yin and yang. will enter this pm, time to sort out banks etc. as for my attempts to communicate with Anat-Anatta; slowly changing inside. i expected something dramatic. but i think i'm being equipped or rebuilt or something....gods only know wots happening. but tonite i try again; double the dose. but something is already going on. this pm concentrate on storyboard. 8 films? i think the latest one [canadian soldiers] is the easiest / cheapest/ essentially simple to do; so i go for that first. need to research a few facts first. that one won't need the big studio workup; i reckon a small outfit and some newbie actors, there's hardly any sets, could do it. so we see. my pay right down again. must remember to phone payroll; between them and bank charges [ferocious!] i got fuck all. and its payday!! assholes.
wonder if cp still drops in? hey cp, tell me wot u think of yin+yang???? your story still good!! i read it every day.
wonder if cp still drops in? hey cp, tell me wot u think of yin+yang???? your story still good!! i read it every day.
update
at 0900 am this morning took 4 zips and 3 quets, slept like the dead til about an hour ago. if anything happened i was unaware, feel weak not strong so it looks like nothing. will try again soon.
Tuesday, 25 August 2009
what now?
so on the night of my last entry i prayed all day etc straight to Anattas. And i felt a tiny change, like a key turning a tiny lock deep within. then i took about three times the normal meds [even zips] and hoped someting would happen. but i just slept heavily; nothing tp report. but then last night i was on night duty and while i was watching tv something happened. it was like a great black soft duvet wrapped all round me and then slowly dragging me and pushing me down at the same time. instead of realising that this was Anat trying to answer i fought it, just struggled to breathe. silly bitch! so i fought so hard i got out of it. then i realised. gods what a stupid woman. so tonite i have another go. will try with all my strength to put into the they-us mind whats going on here; they-us help now and lose one, or lose them all. so will try to double the meds i took before. and hope to christ Anat-Anattas answer again. i 've got to get my mind into second death and come back armed, wiv memory intact, and Anat knowing all i know of whats coming both for us and the Anattas they-us. Sure! Gay is probably trying to 'conquer' Anat....no escape from him for anyone then. so be it. i try again.
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