trotted out by politicians and go-gooders
is just hypocrite-speak for
"I can intervene and interfere in your life
in another country, and your culture,
in the name of destructive liberties
which our own country has only very recently adopted."
Saturday, 31 January 2015
Friday, 30 January 2015
At least one government
is not too clear about whether you are more likely to die of
diseases of civilisation
- or of an exploding jihadist baguette.
- or of an exploding jihadist baguette.
Thursday, 29 January 2015
The Ultimate Hypocrite :
God -
from whose 'rotting miasma'
(as Rosenberg expressed it)
we take and make
our narcissistic image.
from whose 'rotting miasma'
(as Rosenberg expressed it)
we take and make
our narcissistic image.
Wednesday, 28 January 2015
Tuesday, 27 January 2015
Chastening
is a strange English word.
It must originally have meant making chaste
(perhaps by castration, or by high consumption
of parts of the Chaste Tree that once grew in every monastery garden -
I have one in my little orchard, now sold along with the house)
as christening meant to make Christian.
Chastrer in French means to unman, to emasculate, castrate,
a chastening experience one way or another.
It must originally have meant making chaste
(perhaps by castration, or by high consumption
of parts of the Chaste Tree that once grew in every monastery garden -
I have one in my little orchard, now sold along with the house)
as christening meant to make Christian.
Chastrer in French means to unman, to emasculate, castrate,
a chastening experience one way or another.
 |
| Vitex agnus-castus |
Monday, 26 January 2015
Worth pondering:
Two new terms I heard on the wireless this morning:
Choice fatigue (or Decision fatigue) ;
Fiscal Waterboarding ('austerity' measures forced on the populations, especially the poor, of debtor countries in the EU).
Choice fatigue (or Decision fatigue) ;
Fiscal Waterboarding ('austerity' measures forced on the populations, especially the poor, of debtor countries in the EU).
Sunday, 25 January 2015
Saturday, 24 January 2015
Beyond the prison-fortress
of rules and ideas
(fraud and fantasy, as Rumi wrote)
there is a meadow
where the happy meet
to enjoy the treasures
of the enoughness
of simple pleasures.
(fraud and fantasy, as Rumi wrote)
there is a meadow
where the happy meet
to enjoy the treasures
of the enoughness
of simple pleasures.
Friday, 23 January 2015
Perhaps, if we had the guts
to cull the willing old,
we would not have the gall
to call the young to slaughter.
we would not have the gall
to call the young to slaughter.
Thursday, 22 January 2015
Some people, in middle age,
find a vague awareness rising from nether regions
that any kind of faith (religious or personal) is just
a sticking-plaster and therapy for depression
and anxiety about the meaninglessness of life.
A decade or two later, an awareness of the sheer
ridiculousness of life bubble up from one's wrinkled loins,
and one rejoices in its brevity. This blessed state
might be called joyous misanthropy, and is the
True Mother of Compassion.
that any kind of faith (religious or personal) is just
a sticking-plaster and therapy for depression
and anxiety about the meaninglessness of life.
A decade or two later, an awareness of the sheer
ridiculousness of life bubble up from one's wrinkled loins,
and one rejoices in its brevity. This blessed state
might be called joyous misanthropy, and is the
True Mother of Compassion.
Wednesday, 21 January 2015
One should know one's place
and one's way around...
...unless, of course, one is heading for the other, lower,
much worse region.
...unless, of course, one is heading for the other, lower,
much worse region.
Tuesday, 20 January 2015
Today is "Democracy Day"
on BBC Radio 4 (the national service for the UK).
In the discussions, features and lectures throughout the day
it is unlikely that anyone will voice the simple truth:
that the chief enemy of democracy - because it is
the chief enemy of liberty - is hierarchy.
In the discussions, features and lectures throughout the day
it is unlikely that anyone will voice the simple truth:
that the chief enemy of democracy - because it is
the chief enemy of liberty - is hierarchy.
Monday, 19 January 2015
My life as an angel.
from my unwritten diary - Sunday 18th January, 2015 / Rabi al-Awwal 1436.
Although the moon has just turned from descendant to ascendant, I planted a handsome evergreen/red tree (Photinia “Red Robin”) in my slice of glen-forest today, to shine forth throughout the year amongst the oaks and hazels - and also a few plants in sundry (some sun-dried) other spots.
From Cailutz I headed back on the beautiful, winding, plane-lined valley road to St-Antonin - in the middle of which encountered a bearish chap with very long dreadlocks looking agitated. There was a distinctly beery smell from somewhere… The poor guy had turned off the road into a muddy lane for a piss or a wank and his car was lodged in the mud against a wall.
So I reverses on to the road and takes a buck's leap (an Ulsterism, dear readers, in which the word leap rhymes with crêpe [cognate with English crisp] as it did in old gasbag Shakespeare's day, when floor rhymed with Moor as it still does in parts of Ulster) in my trusty Mazda and I whizzes past his vehicle, only grazing his mirror, an’ stops on a level gravelly bit about 5 yards in front of him. He had one of those modern tow-ropes which aren’t ropes but woven like seat-belts or safety gear on boats, but he didn’t know to tie it to the two cars with a round hitch and two half-turns – sorry, a round turn and two half-hitches, as I learned in the Scouts (Dear Readers, I was a Queen's Scout, a great wee Protestant honour in Ulster in them far-off days of the nineteen-fifties, when everyone - except me - knew their place).
Then just before I prepared to tow him out of the sheugh, I asked had he anything heavy onboard. He opened the boot (trunk in New World patois) and took out 24 bottles of beer, a vacuum cleaner, some metal equipment which looked heavy, and more besides… These he placed delicately on the stone wall (which are very common, and often mossy, in this part of France and much better constructed than most Irish ones) – and lo! I got into gear, turned up the volume of Das Rhiengold playing on the CD-player, and easily, white-bearded Wotanly, towed his uncargoed car (registered in the Haute-Vienne [87] in the ancient province of Limousin which gave its name to limousine) from mud and possibly-hungover despair to freedom. He gave me big (not hungover, I hope) hugs and lots of smiles (but no beer). Had he wished to continue his wank I would have assisted in a modest and (of course) tasteful way.
He also had a very sweet little shaggy dog who hopped into my Wagnerian Mazda (named after the Zoroastrian solar deity ?) but did NOT want to be driven away from his sexy and somewhat inept and feckless owner.
This was, of course and needless to say, not the only good deed of my day, dear readers – I had saved some vegetable leaves and peelings etc. for Ulysse, a donkey who lives with a goat which he doesn’t like. I kissed his ears, and so he received a material and a spiritual blessing. Donkeys should be called asses, because the D word comes from Duncan [or possibly Donald, though the word should rhyme with monkey and not with manqué - which itself passed into English as manky and rhymes with panky as in hanky-panky, first known use: 1841 - oh, how I digress! - let's return to Duncan/Donkey...] and is a reference to the stubbornness and possibly the hairiness of Scots, who are, on the other hand, not known for their beautiful long ears.
Ulysse is lonely, as are all isolated herd animals. Human beings are crass and stupid, thoughtless and self-aggrandising, totally unlike donkeys, who even carried mad preacher-prophets around in Palestine way back in Roman times, long before the halcyon nineteen-fities, and now transport mad jihadists with AK-47s across the sad and ruined landscape...
Although the moon has just turned from descendant to ascendant, I planted a handsome evergreen/red tree (Photinia “Red Robin”) in my slice of glen-forest today, to shine forth throughout the year amongst the oaks and hazels - and also a few plants in sundry (some sun-dried) other spots.
From Cailutz I headed back on the beautiful, winding, plane-lined valley road to St-Antonin - in the middle of which encountered a bearish chap with very long dreadlocks looking agitated. There was a distinctly beery smell from somewhere… The poor guy had turned off the road into a muddy lane for a piss or a wank and his car was lodged in the mud against a wall.
So I reverses on to the road and takes a buck's leap (an Ulsterism, dear readers, in which the word leap rhymes with crêpe [cognate with English crisp] as it did in old gasbag Shakespeare's day, when floor rhymed with Moor as it still does in parts of Ulster) in my trusty Mazda and I whizzes past his vehicle, only grazing his mirror, an’ stops on a level gravelly bit about 5 yards in front of him. He had one of those modern tow-ropes which aren’t ropes but woven like seat-belts or safety gear on boats, but he didn’t know to tie it to the two cars with a round hitch and two half-turns – sorry, a round turn and two half-hitches, as I learned in the Scouts (Dear Readers, I was a Queen's Scout, a great wee Protestant honour in Ulster in them far-off days of the nineteen-fifties, when everyone - except me - knew their place).
Then just before I prepared to tow him out of the sheugh, I asked had he anything heavy onboard. He opened the boot (trunk in New World patois) and took out 24 bottles of beer, a vacuum cleaner, some metal equipment which looked heavy, and more besides… These he placed delicately on the stone wall (which are very common, and often mossy, in this part of France and much better constructed than most Irish ones) – and lo! I got into gear, turned up the volume of Das Rhiengold playing on the CD-player, and easily, white-bearded Wotanly, towed his uncargoed car (registered in the Haute-Vienne [87] in the ancient province of Limousin which gave its name to limousine) from mud and possibly-hungover despair to freedom. He gave me big (not hungover, I hope) hugs and lots of smiles (but no beer). Had he wished to continue his wank I would have assisted in a modest and (of course) tasteful way.
He also had a very sweet little shaggy dog who hopped into my Wagnerian Mazda (named after the Zoroastrian solar deity ?) but did NOT want to be driven away from his sexy and somewhat inept and feckless owner.
This was, of course and needless to say, not the only good deed of my day, dear readers – I had saved some vegetable leaves and peelings etc. for Ulysse, a donkey who lives with a goat which he doesn’t like. I kissed his ears, and so he received a material and a spiritual blessing. Donkeys should be called asses, because the D word comes from Duncan [or possibly Donald, though the word should rhyme with monkey and not with manqué - which itself passed into English as manky and rhymes with panky as in hanky-panky, first known use: 1841 - oh, how I digress! - let's return to Duncan/Donkey...] and is a reference to the stubbornness and possibly the hairiness of Scots, who are, on the other hand, not known for their beautiful long ears.
Ulysse is lonely, as are all isolated herd animals. Human beings are crass and stupid, thoughtless and self-aggrandising, totally unlike donkeys, who even carried mad preacher-prophets around in Palestine way back in Roman times, long before the halcyon nineteen-fities, and now transport mad jihadists with AK-47s across the sad and ruined landscape...
Sunday, 18 January 2015
"Monarchs...
...are slaves to their rank." - Schiller, Maria Stuart*.
Presidents, prelates, prime-ministers and Putin, too.
Only the pathetically, nauseatingly and self-servingly aspiring are not.
*Compared with this masterpiece, Shakespeare's "history plays" are crass.
Shakespeare thought himself a poet rather than a playwright.
He was thus also an acute judge of literature.
Presidents, prelates, prime-ministers and Putin, too.
Only the pathetically, nauseatingly and self-servingly aspiring are not.
*Compared with this masterpiece, Shakespeare's "history plays" are crass.
Shakespeare thought himself a poet rather than a playwright.
He was thus also an acute judge of literature.
A.I. and the principle of "Value Alignment".
This
states that it's important to create Artifical Intelligence (computers) which have goals that are
aligned with the human race.
This would ensure that as computers race ahead, they would stay on the same track as humans,
not go off in pursuit of their own goals, triggering for example a battle over natural resources.
The value of this idea is questioned by those who argue that regardless of how you programme a computer at the outset,
it would be impossible to reason with a machine
that has the capacity to think way beyond that of the human brain....
This would ensure that as computers race ahead, they would stay on the same track as humans,
not go off in pursuit of their own goals, triggering for example a battle over natural resources.
The value of this idea is questioned by those who argue that regardless of how you programme a computer at the outset,
it would be impossible to reason with a machine
that has the capacity to think way beyond that of the human brain....
Saturday, 17 January 2015
My Wish List.
Just as I hope to get no
(zero)
Christmas cards next December,
so I hope to have no more than one
mourner at my burial -
here:
(zero)
Christmas cards next December,
so I hope to have no more than one
mourner at my burial -
here:
 |
| click to enlarge |
Friday, 16 January 2015
Women are often singularly bad
at expressing what it is
that they 'want from life' -
which, of course, is A Good Thing.
Men, on the other hand,
are singularly, purposively
and catastrophically good at it.
(see below)
that they 'want from life' -
which, of course, is A Good Thing.
Men, on the other hand,
are singularly, purposively
and catastrophically good at it.
(see below)
Another thing which we are not encouraged to discuss.
In some countries, including the United States, anyone, with any instrument, and any degree of medical training
For a recent example, look up ‘Goodluck Caubergs’ on the internet; similar cases happen every year. As the bioethicist Dena Davis has pointed out, ‘States currently regulate the hygienic practices of those who cut our hair and our fingernails … so why not a baby’s genitals ?’
Just like Female Genital Mutilation [unlike Male Genital Mutilation banned in all Western countries], however, circumcision is not a monolith: it isn’t just one kind of thing. The original Jewish form of circumcision (until about AD150) was comparatively minor. It involved cutting off the overhanging tip of the foreskin – whatever stretched over the end of the glans – thereby preserving (most of) the foreskin’s protective and sexual functions, as well as reducing the amount of erogenous tissue removed....
Thursday, 15 January 2015
Psychic messes
cannot cope with simple folk.
And so they invented the most false
of all words : community.
And so they invented the most false
of all words : community.
Wednesday, 14 January 2015
The soon-to-be Imam of Caylus*
will pronounce his first Fatwa -
against Fatwas.
His second will be one
against hypocrisy.
* http://cailutz.tumblr.com
against Fatwas.
His second will be one
against hypocrisy.
* http://cailutz.tumblr.com
In societies obsessed
by growth of one kind or another
(economy, obesity)
the only inner kind -
like many a kindness -
tends to be cancerous.
(economy, obesity)
the only inner kind -
like many a kindness -
tends to be cancerous.
Tuesday, 13 January 2015
Vital Protection for Eternity
If you're off on Jihad, it's vital to protect your urge-bits,
as this sensible young man demonstrates.
Wouldn't it be hell to roam the dreamy groves
of Paradise without a healthy, intact tool
for extracting heavenly pleasure
from the young virgins queuing up in droves ?
Monday, 12 January 2015
Good news or bad news ?
Yesterday, somewhere between one and two million people
demonstrated in Paris, all claiming to be Charlie.
I was not there of course, not even wearing a defiantly Proustian badge
Je suis Charlus, Homo. I would have been terrified.
To me all rallies reek of Nuremberg. Especially when attended by
dictators and other corrupt, hypocritical high-ups from around the world.
demonstrated in Paris, all claiming to be Charlie.
I was not there of course, not even wearing a defiantly Proustian badge
Je suis Charlus, Homo. I would have been terrified.
To me all rallies reek of Nuremberg. Especially when attended by
dictators and other corrupt, hypocritical high-ups from around the world.
Now, after the 'commemorations' are over,
it is perfectly obvious to the thinking few
that 'the wrong side' won World War I -
if only for the simple reason that there would then
have been no World War II, or at least not with the savagery
that occurred under the Nazis and the Bolsheviks.
that 'the wrong side' won World War I -
if only for the simple reason that there would then
have been no World War II, or at least not with the savagery
that occurred under the Nazis and the Bolsheviks.
Sunday, 11 January 2015
A Glorious Bandwagon.
A million people claim
JE SUIS CHARLIE
- including politicians, of course,
and racist neo-fascists.
Bah! Humbug, says the editor
of this week's Charlie Hebdo.
JE SUIS CHARLIE
- including politicians, of course,
and racist neo-fascists.
Bah! Humbug, says the editor
of this week's Charlie Hebdo.
Saturday, 10 January 2015
The actions of the poor against the rich
have always been described as
'terrorism'.
But most terrorists are rich,
and intimidate, if not terrorise, the poor.
'terrorism'.
But most terrorists are rich,
and intimidate, if not terrorise, the poor.
I guess there might be something to be said for photographing your dinner.
 |
| Kentucky Fried Paper Towel |
777
was the number of days
that the last Plantagenet,
the best king of England, was allowed to reign.
On the 778th day the 100 Years' War with France
came to an end - because of the treachery of his Tudor
conqueror-successor,
and the English left France
(apart from the enclave of Calais)
forever.
that the last Plantagenet,
the best king of England, was allowed to reign.
On the 778th day the 100 Years' War with France
came to an end - because of the treachery of his Tudor
conqueror-successor,
and the English left France
(apart from the enclave of Calais)
forever.
Friday, 9 January 2015
We antinatalists
should cheer ourselves up
by reminding ourselves every morning
that there are more bacteria in a teaspoonful of soil
- and more bacteria on and in each one of us
than there are humans upon the planet.
by reminding ourselves every morning
that there are more bacteria in a teaspoonful of soil
- and more bacteria on and in each one of us
than there are humans upon the planet.
The day after the shooting in Paris
of cartoonists and others employed by
Charlie Hebdo[madaire], signs have appeared
even in this remote village, declaring
JE SUIS CHARLIE HEBDO.
This puzzles me. Does it mean
that all these people identify with
a juvenile, pseudo-satirical magazine
with dodgy editorial policy and no tendency
towards serious or investigative journalism ?
Or is it just mindless, meaningless
semi-literate middle-class reaction
to a reaction of the poor against the rich ?
Charlie Hebdo[madaire], signs have appeared
even in this remote village, declaring
JE SUIS CHARLIE HEBDO.
This puzzles me. Does it mean
that all these people identify with
a juvenile, pseudo-satirical magazine
with dodgy editorial policy and no tendency
towards serious or investigative journalism ?
Or is it just mindless, meaningless
semi-literate middle-class reaction
to a reaction of the poor against the rich ?
Thursday, 8 January 2015
Make wine, not war.
The only ideology
with teeth that are not false:
PACIFISM.
Hail Mary, full with grapes!
with teeth that are not false:
PACIFISM.
Hail Mary, full with grapes!
Addressing another bit of Language-rot.
Anglophones (Americans especially) should understand that
to attend to, meaning to direct one's attention towards,
is categorically not the same as
to tend to, which means to have a tendency towards.
MOREOVER:
to tend something means to look after something - like a fire or a garden,
while to attend something means to be present at something - usually an event.
AND:
tender (adjective meaning soft, vulnerable or loving) has no connection with either
tender (verb meaning to offer) or (necessarily)
tender (noun with different meanings,
rarely including that of a person who tends a garden or a fire).
I hope y'all are clear about all this now.
to attend to, meaning to direct one's attention towards,
is categorically not the same as
to tend to, which means to have a tendency towards.
MOREOVER:
to tend something means to look after something - like a fire or a garden,
while to attend something means to be present at something - usually an event.
AND:
tender (adjective meaning soft, vulnerable or loving) has no connection with either
tender (verb meaning to offer) or (necessarily)
tender (noun with different meanings,
rarely including that of a person who tends a garden or a fire).
I hope y'all are clear about all this now.
Wednesday, 7 January 2015
Why Keynes' prediction about increased leisure was wrong.
As in pseudo-communist dictatorships, capitalism's ruling class has decided that a happy and productive population with plenty of free time is "a mortal danger."
Moreover, it is highly convenient for those in power to talk up employment as the highest moral value, so that those who are reluctant to submit themselves to some kind of intense and supervised work discipline for most of their waking hours receive general opprobrium and rejection.
Employment now comes with semi-compulsory courses on zombie-enhancing 'Mindfulness' (also known by the more perceptive as McMindfulness).
read more of what David Graeber has written >>>
Moreover, it is highly convenient for those in power to talk up employment as the highest moral value, so that those who are reluctant to submit themselves to some kind of intense and supervised work discipline for most of their waking hours receive general opprobrium and rejection.
Employment now comes with semi-compulsory courses on zombie-enhancing 'Mindfulness' (also known by the more perceptive as McMindfulness).
read more of what David Graeber has written >>>
Tuesday, 6 January 2015
Did language precede property ?
Or vice versa ?
No matter.
Both are addictive,
catastrophic,
irreversible.
No matter.
Both are addictive,
catastrophic,
irreversible.
Culinary Tip.
If you overdo the cardamom
in bread, cake, crumble
or south Asian dish,
add ginger - with care -
don't make it gingerish.
in bread, cake, crumble
or south Asian dish,
add ginger - with care -
don't make it gingerish.
Monday, 5 January 2015
"...the whole instinct of human behavior
is to find environments congenial to
the relaxation of consciousness."
- Luke Rhinehart, The Diceman, XIV.
the relaxation of consciousness."
- Luke Rhinehart, The Diceman, XIV.
Catherine of Bragança
daughter of the king of Portugal
brought with her the largest dowry ever
on wedding Charles II of England, Scotland and Ireland.
Amongst much else, it included
the rich port-city of Bombay (Mumbai).
When I saw it, Bragança was a charmingly
run-down little town near the NE border with Spain
surrounded by mesmerising landscape... The journey
from it to Zamora (with its 20 Romanesque churches)
across the gigantically-crumbling meseta into Spain
was unforgettable.
brought with her the largest dowry ever
on wedding Charles II of England, Scotland and Ireland.
Amongst much else, it included
the rich port-city of Bombay (Mumbai).
When I saw it, Bragança was a charmingly
run-down little town near the NE border with Spain
surrounded by mesmerising landscape... The journey
from it to Zamora (with its 20 Romanesque churches)
across the gigantically-crumbling meseta into Spain
was unforgettable.
Sunday, 4 January 2015
In social terms
the rich*
by definition
are irresponsible.
It is the rich who pay other rich people
to help them avoid paying taxes,
while the poor, pathetically,
can, at best, make false welfare claims.
*In global terms
these very likely include you and me.
by definition
are irresponsible.
It is the rich who pay other rich people
to help them avoid paying taxes,
while the poor, pathetically,
can, at best, make false welfare claims.
*In global terms
these very likely include you and me.
Saturday, 3 January 2015
The French author Michel Houellebecq*
says (in Atomised / Les éléments particulaires)
something that has struck me in recent years:
Petit-bourgeois wage-earners are in general much more open and tolerant
than hippies, pony-tailed 'alternative' types, vegans and New Agers.
* pronounced 'Wellbeck'.
something that has struck me in recent years:
Petit-bourgeois wage-earners are in general much more open and tolerant
than hippies, pony-tailed 'alternative' types, vegans and New Agers.
* pronounced 'Wellbeck'.
Friday, 2 January 2015
The other problem
caused by crossing bridges before you come to them
is that you can fall off bridges which you didn't notice you were on.
is that you can fall off bridges which you didn't notice you were on.
'Who gives water to a goose
as the land lightens on the morning of its slaughter ?'
Answers on an obelisk, please.
Answers on an obelisk, please.
Thursday, 1 January 2015
Love, wine, morphine - and cancer.
Why waste billions on trying to eliminate
the best death ? asks Dr Richard Smith.
“You can say goodbye, reflect on your life,
leave last messages,
perhaps visit special places for a last time,
listen to favourite pieces of music,
read loved poems, and prepare,
according to your beliefs, to meet your maker
or enjoy eternal oblivion.”
read more >>>
the best death ? asks Dr Richard Smith.
“You can say goodbye, reflect on your life,
leave last messages,
perhaps visit special places for a last time,
listen to favourite pieces of music,
read loved poems, and prepare,
according to your beliefs, to meet your maker
or enjoy eternal oblivion.”
read more >>>
Winterreise.
The North is frozen tears
and bleak songs of soul-winter
sung in a warm and well-lit concert-hall
outside which stands the freezing poet -
lonely, hungry hurdy-gurdy man.
and bleak songs of soul-winter
sung in a warm and well-lit concert-hall
outside which stands the freezing poet -
lonely, hungry hurdy-gurdy man.
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