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[ 8 minute read ]

Fight like a General

According to The Art of War, attributed to the ancient Chinese military strategist Sun Tzu, in the section on Cowardice, there are five dangerous faults which will affect a General. Here are four of them explained.

I like to consider that we, in the modern Global North, are all Generals in that we have to navigate our own ways in more and more individualistic settings. There used to be a family way which had family values, and shame could be showered down on the whole family if a single member was naughty or rude. Now, it is every man and woman for themselves. Well, it seems so.

Bravery without forethought

Ts' ao Kung said this causes a [person] to fight blindly and desperately like a mad bull. Chang Yu offered that such a person must not be encountered with brute force, but must, instead be lured into ambush and trapped (slain). 

Does anyone know how to set an ambush? I think in the modern world we are looking at people who just blindly attack with words and only sometimes we come across a person who thinks that punching is a solution. Attacking with words is just so easy to do. On the road: 'You naughty monkey! You cut me up. Why didn't you just wait your turn. You make yourself so angry!' might be a polite way of saying that someone is an idiot and should not be allowed out without their parents or care-giver, but it gives us no clues how to set a trap. 

Consider this: When we are affronted, it is often because we have been in a verbal confrontation. If the perceived attacker is in a work environment or is a 'professional' a written complaint can be made. I have an example of a complaint I am still setting up as an ambush: In an interview setting, the interviewer admitted to be still under training. My suspicions had been aroused because the interviewer's technique was dated and not at all conducive to following a pattern of open discussion. It irritated me. I asked to speak to a manager to highlight the problem. The manager re-enacted the same scene to see if I was triggered by that environment. My actual point was on the choice of words that caused people to feel as though they had no choice. Having no choice triggers my PTSD. My complaint about the manager must not include any reference to why I was annoyed at being put through an enactment of the original interview. I need the investigators to ask the manager, 'Why did you re-enact the environment to which you think he was complaining about?' Remember this: I was merely suggesting that the interviewers stop using the word 'must' and instead use the word 'should'. 'Should' is softer and implies that there is a choice of action. I was not complaining about the interviewer or the interview in itself. I need the manager to answer the investigators, 'I wanted to see if his PTSD was triggered by the interview technique.' Bingo! The trap is sprung. The manager knows I have PTSD and 'must not' deliberately trigger it or act in a way that is known or suspected to trigger my PTSD for any experiment. If I include in my complaint about the manager that I suspect my PTSD was deliberately triggered, there will be no expectation of inadvertent admission of guilt by the manager because the manager will not use it as a reason for re-enacting the original interview.

Because my PTSD relates, in a lot of ways, to being physically, psychologically and verbally attacked, I perceive verbal confrontation as an attack and the prelude to a battle. According to Chang Yu (above) I should not engage in a 'to and fro' argument with ever rising voices and loss of logical control. In other words, I should withdraw without letting my emotions control my actions.

Ssu-ma Fa, summarises it thus: 'Simply going to one's death does not bring about victory.'

Cowardice which leads to capture

Ts' ao Kung defines cowardice here as: '... being of a [person] whose timidity prevents them from advancing to seize an advantage'

Of course, we have to understand that in the modern world in which we are not attempting to acquire someone else's land or treasure we would consider someone who seeks to take advantage of a situation to destroy another person to be a monster. Here though, is the modern world as it really is.

     'I see you have an item for sale for 1,000 monetary units. Would you take 500?'

This is someone trying to take advantage of a situation. The item is for sale. There are generally two reasons for this: flipping it to make a profit; and selling it to cover a debt. Let's look at profit. The seeking and acquisition of wealth is a drive that is shared by persons who have no other way to satisfy themselves. They are weak and are no different to drug addicts whom, let's face it, most of us despise because they are 'weak' and probably treacherous. They are not. By the way, drug addicts don't despise other drug addicts solely on the basis that the despised person, is an addict.

The other reason for selling is to overcome a debt. Someone selling property to overcome a debt is plainly a person in a weak position. Selling property is often a loss to a person's wealth since more is usually paid to purchase it in the first place. There is however, the third position; selling an item because it is no longer needed.

     'No, I will take 850 monetary units, though.'

There are a couple of things that may be going on that rankle me. I loathe negotiating a price for these reasons: The seller's price is higher than the value of the item to the seller. The much reduced buyer's price is much lower than the value of the item is to the buyer. Looking at both positions I call both the seller and the buyer cheats. Game on, then. Let battle commence. They deserve to destroy each other. If I buy something from someone I always ask why they are selling it.

Continuing - Cowardice which leads to capture:  Wang Hsi said, 'who is quick to flee at the sight of danger,' T'ai Kung said, '[They] who let an advantage slip will subsequently bring upon [themself] real disaster.'

In battles, there are usually two opposing forces. In an office environment a single statement can serve to cause the whole office to decide on taking and defending opposite standpoints. A cry of 'sexist!' will usually work to encourage more supporters to the accuser's side than the accused's. Most of us can weather that, if it gets to a decent manager's attention and we can show the claim to be out of enmity, vicarious animosity, or vindictiveness. However, if the claim is quietly made among co-workers there is a potential that anyone in the same camp of agreement by dint of being gullible and persuaded by a  good orator, will perceive the accused as less effective in their work and as a manipulator and a bully. A general air of resentment will permeate the workplace and no manager will recognise the source or effect, and so it will remain like a foreign agent 'sleeper' in a spy film, waiting to assassinate the accused. Time to advance methinks, before the 'sleeper' gets into a good sniping position behind the curtains. The cheat or liar or vicious accuser needs a bucket of fluorescent paint thrown over them so they can be easily seen for what they are.

Meng Shih said, '[the person] who is bent on returning alive; this is the [person] who will never take a risk.'

A hasty temper, which can be provoked by insults

It is not really difficult to imagine someone who shuts themselves away from a fight and is then so incensed by continued insults that they rush out ill-prepared and attempt to fight. Of course, in the modern world, a sustained barrage of insults is definitely bullying, so this 'hider' if they are canny will never come running out with a blunt sword. However, if they did they would be a bad General of their own self. It is a bad fault for a General to have a hasty temper, that can be provoked by insults.

A delicacy of honour which is sensitive to shame

A sense of honour is not the bad thing. Honour and integrity must be sought, valued, and guarded against attackers. Sun Tsu condemns an exaggerated sensitiveness to slanderous reports. If we return back to the slanderous claim that someone is sexist, a bad General will act in a desperate manner because they are immediately thrust into making decisions from within an emotional cul-de-sac.

Indeed, we have moved on from being able to shame our families in the modern world so this is not a consideration that bars inappropriate behaviour anyway, so there is a reduced chance of having such a delicacy of honour as is proposed to be susceptible to shame in the same way as it would have been only a generation or two ago.

Personally, I have an ongoing situation in which I made a suggestion as to how some language and written approaches could be enlivened and at the same time made less provocative. My suggestion has been taken to be an emotional response to a single comment. I am allowing this scenario to unfold as such. The responders are basing their responses to me from their emotional standpoint in the hope it connects with my own emotional standpoint. Yet, I did not use my emotions to declare a fault. I have a greater plan; but it will take time for it to unfold. It is vital that I do not have a real time conversation in which I may lose track of my original point by being distracted, or worse, providing tools to undo my original point.

Sun Tsu: 'an exaggerated sensitiveness to slanderous reports, the thin-skinned [person] who is stung by opprobrium, however undeserved.'

Mei Yao: 'The seek after glory should be careless of public opinion'. Which is somewhat paradoxical because glory is played out in public. I think it means that public opinion should not be a reason not to seek glory.

Reference

Giles. L (trans). Gutenberg Press (2024). 'Sun Tsu on the Art of War', 1910. Available at: https://www.gutenburg.org/files/132/132-h/132-h.htm

Accessed 01 December 2024 - Now no longer available 

Try this available site: https://suntzusaid.com/book/8/12

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[ 8 minute read ]

The knee of emotion

Logic makes open challenge

P1:

P2:

C:

If I write a sentence by stating my opinion and follow it with a sentence that seeks to qualify it as valid in a wider community what am I trying to do?

Let's look at this from the position of someone who is making a knee-jerk reaction to something.

First, I need to explain what I mean by 'knee-jerk'. If a doctor hits your knee in the right place with a little hammer your knee will reflexively jerk and your foot will flick forward. It is uncontrollable, and is a reflex action. Ducking your head, in order to avoid injury, when you perceive something moving towards it, is not a reflexive action. It is a movement that is both learnt and controllable. Neither is it instinctive; babies and infants will not move out of the way of items that are about to impact them. However, babies will blink and jump if you blow hard into their faces; this is a reflexive action and is an act of self-preservation.

With this in mind, someone who has determined that a particular belief is worthy to be embraced and nurtured as either their own or as a subscriber to a wider view of something, often makes that belief integral to their daily life and how they deal with the world and its complications. We, as humans have a need to feel that we belong to a group. We also have a need to recognise that we wear a lot of hats; mother, father, boss, politician, doctor, drug-dealer; whatever position we find that allows us to imagine that we possess some degree of usefulness. It is an 'ego' thing. I shall not elucidate on what I feel that 'ego' means since my interpretation of it is clear from the 'wearing hats' thing.

I am however, going to use 'ego' as a coin in the game of life. My mum used to play board games with me and lose. Her ego was not dampened by being bettered; she deliberately lost to me. Her 'mother' hat allowed her to take a lower competitive position as an individual in order to boost my confidence as someone who can win; she took 'ego' from her individual bank, deposited it in her mother bank, and then transferred it to my individual bank completely without me noticing. She made logical decisions.

Ego is controllable but it takes a conscious decision to recognise ego and position it in an hierarchy of values. In the case of my mum beating me at board games; she did not actually spend any ego, she merely reshaped it. 'I am doing the right thing by not quashing his confidence (and ego) by not consistently thrashing him at every game we play'. Her ego remained intact. What this means is that ego when controlled in the right way can pay dividends. Unfortunately, if the dividends are not passed on we have an overblown personality. 

An example of an over-blown ego, or as I just mentioned 'personality' is someone who has paid dividends from their personal or individual ego into their public role by wearing a hat of responsibility. Believing oneself to have the right idea and promulgating it as concrete and infallible is someone with an overblown ego or personality. Often, though, these persons need to belong to a group of like-minded thinkers, such as a church. Now, I am using the word 'church' as a short-cut because it has connotations that most of us are familiar with; that of a group of like-minded people gathered together to support each other in maintaining a belief system. A family is a church in the same way. I am using the word 'church' because it has a recognised structure to it.

They need to 'belong' because their belief and indeed their daily life is based on their emotions. As far as I can tell, emotions need to be topped-up and stroked and individuals need to frequently talk to their emotions to re-assure themselves that they have chosen to believe the right things. This is beyond mere companionship. Unfortunately, there are occasions when individuals barging through life with their emotions as a banner presented as themselves, come across an incident, that taken from their emotional standpoint, is an antithesis to their carefully cultured ego, even though they have not consciously shaped it. 

     'Oh no! This person has views that are contrary to my own. I must drive a wedge between the value of this person's opinion and that of my group's belief.'

This is when a sentence starts with 'I' and is followed by a sentence that includes 'we'.

     'I believe that taxes are too high. We don't want high taxes.'

Firstly, the individual has every right to state how they feel. It is freedom of speech, which is valued throughout nearly all of the English-speaking countries. Here I have intentionally poked the sleeping tiger in many people. Some will think of the United States of America; some will think of countries in the United Kingdom; a few people, I believe, will think of Canada, Australia or New Zealand. People who thought of African countries or India are thinking of the spread of English through imperialism. In all examples there is room for debate since there are different views and an opportunity to introduce and share nuances within the scope of the argument. Viewpoints should be offered as premises in an argument; almost inevitably they are not, because people have over-blown egos. Perhaps an argument could be made for quelling free-speech, or an argument could be made for shaping free-speech.

Canny people will recognise this post as a loose argument for shaping free-speech.

     'I believe that taxes are too high. We don't want high taxes.' This is a rallying cry. It is a trumpet calling troops to a battle. It is a fox-hunters horn to draw other warriors and hunters to quash a rebellion or have some 'sport'.

I read somewhere that most people find conversations more interesting when they have done most of the speaking. Loosely: Mental stimulation is greater when we have to form sentences rather than absorb them. Many domestic arguments occur in homes that have stale marriages and mundane daily activities simply because domestic arguments are mentally stimulating. 

Calling our 'brothers and sisters' to arms either for sport or to attack a contrary belief has its own reward. Many people feel that they are supported by belonging to a group. However, many people are not content with belonging to a film-lovers group or a tennis club. Many people see themselves as warriors for a cause. These are dangerous people. They enter environments with their egos and emotions, not only exposed but honed, before any sense of logic gets a chance to raise a hand for permission to speak. Emotions are not polite.

Knee-jerk reactions thrive on raw sensation. In the real world, in the doctors surgery, it is the nervous system that is tested with a little hammer gently knocking a knee. In the mental world, it is logic that knocks the knee of emotion.

Devoid of emotion, logic does not care for individuals. It espouses politeness. It tears down belief systems. However, logic is not a weapon used for destruction; it is an equaliser.

     'Taxes are too high. We don't want high taxes.'

This is a rallying cry that demands a division of persons. A line is drawn. Everybody who agrees go to the left (or right - this is not politics); everybody who disagrees stand on that side.

Many people will support one view and many people will support any opposing view. Logic tells us that the statement above: 'We don't want high taxes' can only belong to one of these groups. Hence, it is only valid if it is supported by at least one other person ('we'). In this way, it calls for at least one other person to stand behind the banner of its meaning. Consequently, it is without doubt, a rallying cry to a specific group of people.

Here is the problem: If there is only one person with a logical view or approach and there is a call to arms of a group with an opposing view; one that is emotionally charged, we have an opportunity for subjugation of an individual. A person using logic cannot make any calls to arms on an emotional level. Hence, logic is overwhelmed by an emotionally charged majority group.

In my head, logic is a referee in a fight between emotions. In other people's heads it is an enemy to their ego.

Here is a good and valid argument:

P1: All quadrupeds have four legs

P2: A cat has four legs

C: Therefore, a cat is a quadruped 

There must be at least two premises to make an argument, so the argument below is not valid. Moreover, the premises may not cancel each other out or negate any other premise.

P1: Films and documentaries about firefighters allow boys to imagine becoming firefighters

C: Therefore, films and documentaries about firefighters are good

Interestingly, an emotionally charged person may feel that this is a sexist opinion. It is not. It is an invalid argument AND it does not present itself as gender exclusive because no premise excludes girls.

This (below) not a good argument because there is no premise that tells us what good is:

P1: Films and documentaries about firefighters allow boys to imagine becoming firefighters

P2: Films and documentaries about firefighters allow girls to imagine becoming firefighters

C: Therefore, films and documentaries about firefighters are good.

This (below) is a good and valid argument:

P1: Films and documentaries about firefighters allow boys to imagine becoming firefighters

P2: Films and documentaries about firefighters allow girls to imagine becoming firefighters

P3: Firefighters save lives and property by extinguishing flames and with rescue operations

P4: Imagining becoming a firefighter helps to drive people towards becoming a firefighter

C: Therefore, films and documentaries about firefighters are good.

However, since P1 and P2 can be combined as:

'Films and documentaries about firefighters allow children to imagine becoming firefighters', it is possible to backtrack and assume that by missing out either P1 or P2 in the argument above, the argument IS gender exclusive because if either of these premises are removed the argument is still good and valid, yet this is not necessarily so. However. the reason given as premise P3 above: 'Firefighters save lives and property by extinguishing flames and with rescue operations'. or any other premise that acts as a qualifier in this argument that has a conclusion that states it is good, MUST remain because 'good' needs to be either qualified or quantified. Where there is no qualifying or quantifying premise there is no good argument and unconnected statements remain only personal opinion. In countries where there is free-speech, opinion may not be attacked. There should not be a call to arms because there should not be a feeling of one's ego being dented. However, be warned; there are monsters out there which approach everything with an emotional lens which they use to analyse everyone else's statements. They have no, or eshew, manners and seek to overwhelm reason with sentiment.

The only thing that can be said in response to a bad or invalid argument is, 'That is your doxy.'

My understanding of LOGIC should not be considered to be entirely correct and I advise and encourage everyone to choose a course on, or read about, Logic, Negotiation and Social Interaction for themselves.

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[ 2 minute read ]

I love Puddles

Wet and Warm

I am fed up with how technology is offered to the people in the form of games, and presents itself in the form of devices that entertain idle thumbs. We all have Smart Phones now, which are neither phone or computer. Even I have a Smart Phone; which I charge every few days but never use more than once every nine or ten charges (a month?).

Most of us don't like poor weather. I like puddles but these days modern technology and wisdom has got us all to stop leaking petrol, oil and diesel onto the roads so I no longer see the iridescent film over the puddles in Summer sunshine. I think I also miss seeing the odd crisp packet, that used to tell me that there was a passing person earlier in the day; or better still - was it a month ago? Oooh! a mystery! Then again I really don't want to see litter after all. I suppose writing murder mystery stories is much harder now that there are no cigarette dog-ends with lipstick on them; a woman killer or a gender-fluid assassin?

     'No idea, Ma'am' the sergeant murmured, scratching under his wig.

No, I think technology should be used for more practical purposes than just toys and telling us about micro-particulates in our food. I want a machine that can roll up puddles, now that they are no fun, and package them to be sent to dry and arid places where they can be digitally restored. If such a machine or puddle transporter ever gets invented I shall set up a travel company for tourists to go to the hot countries to take selfies next to a newly unrolled puddle. I would also give them a complimentary 5ml of oil to drip onto the puddle so they can also get swirling colours on top of them. Of course, I would have little boxes of sunshine to sell them and tripods on which to mount the sunshine, with special analogue tools to make them experience the whole sunshine - puddle - oil 'thing'.

     'Oh my goodness! Is this what grandad and grandma had to do after it rained in Summer?'

     'I think so. Where is the 'on' button for this caterpillar?'

     'Oh wait! I think you have to put it in the puddle and rescue it. Hang on. Let's see what the instructions say...'

     'I've got it! You roll up the puddle, put the caterpillar on the ground and then unroll the puddle on top of it.'

     'Like it just suddenly rained!'

     'Wow! Imagine not knowing it is going to rain. How did caterpillars ever survive? Turn it on.'

     'Ready?'

     'No, wait. We've got to hang these clouds up. We gotta make the picture look realistic!'

     'But then there will be no light reflected from the puddle.'

     'That's what the boxes of sunshine are for! Put the caterpillar there. Oh No, there's a fly; chase it away. Our poor grandparents!'

Later, they might go to my museum where they can see an old crisp packet with mud on it, and a Coca-Cola ring pull that hit someone on their ear.

The tab can be broken from the ring, turned 90 degrees and pushed into one of the little slots either side of where the tab was attached to the ring. When the ring is pulled back and released the tension in the tab launches the ring up to 30 feet or ten metres.

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[ 9 minute read ]

You break me

Passive voice or passive aggression?

Is it possible to hate someone just because they hate you, but having never been the recipient of their distaste?

Well, I can hate every mobile telecommunication business I have yet to be a customer with, based on my experiences of their competitors, with which I have been a customer. That though, is like hating my wife's brother because I hate her other brother; isn't it? Not in this case, I think.

Heuristics and forecasting would allow us to make judgement calls on who or whom to leave well alone, and who or whom to allow some time to prove themselves. However, I propose that this is not so with mobile telecommunication businesses. When you set up a contract with one, you open yourself up to confusion and chaos. Why? Because they want you to change the contract and/or because they have an expectation that you, the customer, wants to change the contract; you know, weirdly, the customer has decided to upgrade or downgrade their prior decision, or decisions. 

So, this is an example of a relationship based on distrust or more accurately, based on a probability that you (the customer) will be unreliable and capricious in the relationship. 

     'Can I pay for the whole two year contract upfront, please?'

     'No.'

Well, their 'no' means because they don't have a system that can deal with an honest person who knows what their needs are, and will be for the duration of the contract, and we, meaning them and also most of us, are certain that no such person exists, so we will never implement such a system.

Money-minded people might think, 'Why would you pay £720 (£30 x 24 months) and not want to get the interest on some of it instead? Quite simply, because you don't get interest on money you don't have. Many of us run our bank accounts dry and so there is no £720 minus £30 every month for interest to ever be applied. If you think about it: saving up the £720 at £30 per month over two years would actually allow interest to accrue (not much though).

Incidentally, I pay a total of £28.80 for two SIMS with different phone numbers on separate contracts; one of which is 'Unlimited Everything', and the other 'Unlimited Texts and Calls and 20GB data'. I don't phone Premium numbers. If my needs change, the balance in my bank account should not. It may be surprising to some people, that my SIM with Unlimited Data never gets used for calls or texts, and my SIM with only 20GB data but with Unlimited Calls and Texts, never gets used for data up and down loads; unless something goes wrong. I never need to change any plan though, because I have a contingency plan. Shock! Horror! Scream! 

I hate telecommunication businesses because they insist on Direct Debit payments. If something goes wrong and there is no money in the account that month (financial scam or digital glitch or even illness), the phone bill does not get paid. What could go wrong? Nothing, if you fall within the group of customers wanting to upgrade or suddenly go roaming because you are the target customer the telecommunication businesses are constantly talking to. They don't want people like me, who just pay to be left alone. No modern business wants customers with no needs to fulfill between one contract and the next.

They hate me. I am an irritation to them. 

Modern 'business' means implementing marketing strategies that are progressively suited to individuals. It is no surprise to me that the UK Government wants everyone to use A.I. or that they will implement Facial Recognition technology in the High Street. It's a bifurcated approach; catch criminals through both their physical and digital presence; and allow British businesses to profile UK citizens and apply targeted marketing strategies, the use of A.I. assistive technology.

The British Government hates me, because my voice on one SIM contract is not available on my other SIM contract. Likewise, my online digital footprint is not matched with my voice or texts or any of my two phone numbers. Worse, I don't even use the same device to send and receive emails as the one I use to look at YouTube or any other web site. I am not hiding from any Governments; I am merely not mindless. You would be right to assume that I also do not use a SmartPhone to access the internet or for emails. And you would be right to guess that I have a spare device for accessing the internet AND an emergency phone.

Why? You might ask, do I go to such lengths to obfuscate any profiling of me? Because almost everyone allows themselves to be profiled; that is why modern marketing relies on profiling - because it can! 

Of course, businesses need to follow a strategy of averages. The average person changes their phone quite often, I think. The average person consumes more and more data, I think. Newer phones do things for you. My phone, which is fairly old, tells me how long it will remain charged, according to my past usage. Thanks - I already know. 

I 'hate' most people even though I haven't met them. I have to set up security protocols that get destroyed by the new safety protocols that businesses set up to protect their customers because their customers have no security protocols of their own. An example: I don't store passwords on any digital device so I need to type them in whenever I go to some websites. The two step security check of sending an email with a security number in it, means I have to type my password for my email account. (This is why I have a different digital device for emails than the one I access websites with - 'cookies!') There are cookies on websites that can read your password as you type it on another website because they tracked you there.

My laptops have microphones on them that can detect not only the speed at which I press the keys but also my typos and that means which keys are pressed. Realistically, this means that I can demonstrate that I know a complicated password because I am not reading it as I type, proving it to be me typing. I digress. The password can be read by the sound of the keys being pressed because they each have different sounds according to where they are on the keyboard AND the speed they are tapped. The quickness between two key strokes and the similar sound of the double 'e' in 'speed' will indicate a repeated letter AND the frequency of the sound in this post reveals it to be the most commonly used letter in the English language 'e'. So, the two-step security protocol reduces my level of security if I use only a single device. Hence, my password for my email account is entered on a device that has not yet downloaded any cookies (fresh start).

It is tremendously worse than that: The Information Commissioner's Office (ICO) has recently personally informed me that despite the GDPR stating that only personal information pertinent to actually carrying out a task should be requested or passed on to a third party, a business is not in breach of the GDPR if they request an email address and pass it on to a third party delivery business for the delivery of a tangible item. No-one needs an email address to send, carry, or deliver a parcel. However, it has become the norm for businesses to email and text recipients of 'parcel and tangible packages' to tell them where their parcel is. Many people accepted this breach of the GDPR as normal business practice; in fact it is an 'Added Service' (economic value added service).

Your personal details should never be given to a third party without your consent under ANY circumstances. If you order an item to be delivered, your phone number and email address does not need to be known.

Why do businesses want to tell you that they will deliver your package? So they look like they are being friendly and helpful (added value), but importantly, so they don't have to return the next day if you were away. 'We told you we would deliver at this time and date - tough on you if we didn't come back, or it got stolen!' In terms of policing, there is no case to answer.

     'I am sorry Madam / Sir, but by agreeing to receive a text message or email you agreed to accept responsibility of the package once it was delivered.'

Thanks a bunch everyone! I never agreed!

Why did the ICO find that this routine breach of the GDPR is not a breach? Practically every business in the UK would be in court and be fined. If it was a criminal case - 'It is not in the public interest.'

Is it possible to hate someone just because they hate you? Maybe not, but our personal defences utilise any available hormone and enzyme in the body to elicit a similar response to hatred; perhaps 'begrudgement'.

Is it possible to hate people you have never met? I might hate the motorway workmen who build a motorway that just goes over a cliff and have never provided any signs that say so, absolutely! If I tail-gate the driver in front of me, I might not see the cliff edge. If the driver in front of me brakes hard, I will hate that driver for spoiling my journey. Hate the driver who suddenly stops? No, I can't hate a cautious person who responds to a threat by stopping their actions that drive them towards danger.

I hate 'them' because I am reminded of my faults.

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[ 6 minute read ]

Now you see us, now you don't

I met a wonderful woman in ALDI yesterday, whom I could meet every day and never be bored. She is excited and pleased to be alive in a very strange world.

In the frozen produce aisle, Marion had apologised for leaving her basket on the floor next to the frozen fish cabinet, which she thought was in my way because I was leaning sideways over it while I rummaged for Basa (a South-East Asia type of catfish).

       'Oh! No!' I said, 'I was avoiding standing next to that couple moving away there.' I pointed at two people at the end of the aisle near the baking products. 'They were standing the other side of your basket and I didn't want to be too close to them.' I thought I had better explain that. 'The man pulled all the boxes of washing-up liquid off the shelves looking for something and then just shoved them all back all higgledy-piggledy. I thought they might do the same to the fish, so I didn't want to get too near.'

Marion nodded approvingly. 'What? I hate it when people do that! 'Why?', and then fell into telling me how invisible she felt she is sometimes. 

       'People just bump into me and then look straight through me as though I am not there. She gestured with her hands, moving them away from her face, indicating tunnel-vision.

       'I'm sorry! Are you talking to me?' I said. 'I was just talking to myself and then suddenly here you are!'

She smiled, but wasn't quite sure if I was serious. She looked confused, bless her. I immediately liked her, and feeling sorry for putting her off balance, I said. 'They probably don't drive.'

She nodded profusely. 'Probably! They are so selfish and just carry on as though you are not there.'

       'Well,' I went on, 'If they do drive, it will be a black SUV.' I smiled but knew I had messed up. I don't know her at all. Maybe she drives a black car. At the same time I thought black SUV drivers need to know how despised they are by other road users.

      She picked up on my mistake. 'Mine is parked in the car-park,' she frowned at me.

I had it coming. 'Of course.... you would,' I said and went on, 'As soon as I said it to you I just knew the ironic probability was just too high.'

       'Not really.' She said, and smiling, wandered coolly off.

Touché, I thought, touché!

Feeling chastened by recognising my mistake, I picked on a young couple to cheer them and myself up. They had to go a little bit around me, while I watched Marion walk away.

       'I'm sorry,' I said, 'Was I in your way?'

       'No, no. You're fine.' The young woman said.

       'I'm practising getting in people's way to get my own back.'

They laughed. Part of me hoped they drive a black car; I was laughing too.

One of my favourite times in supermarkets is when I keep meeting the same person in each aisle. It is so awkward. Both of us have agreed that our conversation earlier has fizzled out and now we have to ignore each other or nod, or wave, or blow raspberries at each other or something. We both feel foolish and embarrassed. I sometimes wish I had never spoken to them earlier. Maybe we might hunch our shoulders at each other to say, 'Who would have thought it?' or 'What a surprise!' I usually just play it safe and leave it at 'Hello'. Most of the time I can see they think the second meeting is awkward, the third uncomfortable, and the fourth excruciating. That's when I turn around and go back to the first aisle, chuckling to myself.

After I had stopped weaving through the busy supermarket I went to pay. There was only one till with a person open. I joined the queue. Marion had her back to me, right in front of me, so I carried on our conversation to her back as though we had not parted.

       'Crikey! For a moment there you just disappeared and I was talking to myself.'

She smiled, 'Oh Hello again.' She seemed okay with more conversation. She seemed very relaxed, even pleased to see me, and that is when she told me about the leopard people.

       'Have you seen the people who come in here every few days and look like leopards?'

       'No, I only come about once a week. They look like leopards?'

       'Yes. They have spots of different colours, and just walk in and load up their baskets, and then walk out without paying; every few days!'

       'Leopards? Black and white?' I was thinking of vitiligo, which is a lack of pigment in the skin, most obvious as patches of white but healthy skin on black people, and is an auto-immune disorder which can be worsened by stress or environmental conditions.

       'Like lepers, not leopards. They have lumps and bumps all over their faces and hands. Nobody stops them.'

       'Yes. Patches of decaying white skin falling off.' By now though, I was checking to see if she meant pustular psoriasis. I only know it as psoriasis, which I have seen. It is not contagious. The 'pustular' bit I had to learn about this morning.

I have only seen leprosy in an old film on the telly, 'Papillon', in which a convict escaped from Devils Island and shares a cigar with a leper in the jungle. 'How did you know I have dry leprosy? the leper asked in the film. 'I didn't,' is the reply.

I, like many other people, heard about leprosy in history classes at secondary school in the UK. Bits of their bodies deteriorate and fall off, I heard. Of course,  I also heard that medieval monasteries and convents took in and cared for lepers in Europe and the UK, so I understood it was not confined to jungles and damp, warm places, and it is contagious. I didn't learn in school that it can be dry leprosy and not contagious. My school did not tell us about syphilis.

In my head these people had vitiligo or psoriasis, not leprosy, and maybe wore leopard skins but the lumps and bumps, when she said it, chased away the notion of them actually looking like cats and wearing cat-skins.

       'Would you stop them?' I asked amused. This conversation has potential, I thought?

       'No.' she accepted. 'The security don't search them.'

       'Would you search them?'

       'No.'

       'I don't think they should be stopped.' I said. No-one treats them as their equals so we shouldn't expect them to act as our equals. In fact, they are turning our disability into their ability. Maybe the police won't search them either.'

In my head, these 'leopard people' are immigrants that have come from a country where they were ostracised and pilloried, and they have no idea that they might be treated differently in the UK by the health service, even if not by the public. I haven't seen them, but it sounds as though their affliction is quite severe.

Even though they are plainly more visible than other people once we have noticed their skin, they walk in a strange liminal place, somewhere between physically visible and unsightly to us, as in us not wanting to see them. They are so sensually visible, that we try to eradicate their visage from our perception.

I am reminded of a conversation I had with a Customs Officer at Immingham docks near Grimsby. I asked him how he can tell if someone should be stopped for questioning and searching. He told me they have a formula and what the formula is,  but added that they do use experience and just pick the right persons mostly. (Customs staff knew me quite well because I would play pranks on them, and they did the same to me and their colleagues. Frequently going through customs with a van can be great fun if you let it happen).

       'One time,' he said. 'I tried to stop an African man, but he wouldn't stop walking and kept telling me that I couldn't see him.  Later, we found he was smuggling heroin, and discovered that he thought that a witch-doctor's spell made him invisible and he would be able to just walk through customs without being stopped. Unfortunately for him, because he wasn't holding up an EU passport we, of course, stopped him.'

The thieves that Marion told me about are in the same strange category of visibility, but diverse within it. What a wonderful world!

'We are the leopard people. You can see us, but you don't want to.' To them we all drive black SUVs. Even though they are there we ignore them and pretend they are not.

Vitiligo (Wikipedia)

An example of sensually inappropriate is: I used to enjoy Rollmop Herrings; loved them. One day, my mum told me that they are raw just as I was chewing on one. I can't look at them now. Rollmops, to me, are sensually inedible.

The woman on the till told me she was pleased to have a conversation with me. She said it lifted her and set her up for her shift. From the looks of disdain from the customer behind me; he couldn't afford a black SUV but would definitely buy a smaller black car, even if it never left his front garden.

Now you see us, now you don't.

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Is this the real life?

[ 3 minute read ]

Following on from the post earlier today at 06:03 am, o'clock, Three minutes past six in the morning, 'Languidly Slumping' (tag: Dog Day). Opens as a new page.

Player 1

It was my turn on stage in ALDI during the 'Grab a mike session'.

       'ALDI has a sign near the entrance that says 'PRODUCT RECALL CHRISTMAS ITEM 'Mozzarella Sticks in Blankets' What's that? You're way ahead of me!'

Such bad grammar these days. 'to' not 'in'. The elderly couple just said 'Probably.' as they came in. They didn't want me to open their day up for them, so they hunched their shoulders a little more, stared at me, looked at each other and grabbed a basket. I think the bloke had been given the Bumper Joke Book for Christmas or had pulled too many crackers for that one to work on him. But, from starting with a woolly head it was to be expected that I was going to be snatching at straws for a time.

A while ago, I met a marvelous woman in the ALDI car park who told me that she was told off for going to the till with a checkout server, when she had only a few items, instead of going to the self-service tills. 

        'Shocking!' I said.

       'I don't want them to take my photo,' she moaned.

       'Quite right too.' I agreed.

I told her then that I consider the people like the couple who rightfully ignored my poor joke, to be Non-Playable Characters (NPC) in a video game. They only have a series of set responses. What I should have said to them was: 'Give me the key!' 

        'First, you must answer three questions correctly.'

They were never going to say that. They were thinking about Colin next door and how his car won't start in the mornings.

Things don't come alive for them like they do for me. If they write about a tiger, it won't scratch at the words and walk off the paper. There is something to be jealous of what they have and I do not. The beans in the tins of Baked Beans don't grow anywhere; they just get in the tins by themselves. They don't realise that Persian people are actually Iranians who live in tents in sand-pits outside of Iran and eat Fry's Turkish Delight when they are not riding their camels. Theu do not realise  that Chinese spies had to work in Chinese restaurants and takeaways in the UK until they managed to get a job elsewhere in the UK. It would never occur to them to use the self-service tills only when they are wearing fancy dress costumes and make-up, and then ask for a copy of the photograph from the manager for their Instagram page.

Katy, at the checkout till, nudged the needle resting on my record, out of the scratch it had got stuck in. She had an opinion on citing, referencing, Shakespeare and literary classics.

       'When are you ever going to use iambic pentameter? ' She sceptically asked. 

       'When I am a politician or spokesperson,' I haughtily replied. 'The stressed and non-stressed syllables make sentences more sing-song.'

She raised an eyebrow at me and looked at the woman behind me who had earlier been eavesdropping on a conversation I had had with a woman from the Caribbean, on how I was going to try using Worcestershire Sauce as an alternative to Soy Sauce to reduce my addiction to it. 

She just laughed.

My days aren't always like this. I rehash them when I get home. The conversations are all real. I really do talk to shoppers and supermarket workers. When I write or tell people about my days, I highlight a few dots and make a point of joining them up differently to how they actually played out in the real world. I did say, today, I shall add Worcestershire Sauce to my vegetable bakes instead of Soy Sauce, to reduce my addiction; and a woman did laugh when she overheard our conversation. Katy, the checkout woman did ask me about iambic pentameter and I did make a joke of the recalling a Christmas product called 'Mozarrella Sticks' to an elderly couple.

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Caught by your kindness

I should 'zip it'

[ 7 minute read ]

I have a strange medical condition that no medical staff have heard of, and it has never been documented. I talk rubbish to people despite being a fairly bright chap. That is not uncommon; just look in the dictionary under fool, or jester, or simpleton. I would prefer that your dictionary falls open at 'savant' before you get to 'fool' though.

I am not a savant. I am a fool. I picked up a habit of talking to strangers while I was getting used to living in The Netherlands. As soon as I discovered that I could speak English to the Dutch people, I did. In fact, back then I used it as an opener for conversations with women.

In a pub or at a bus stop.

       'Hello, Do you speak English?'

       'Yes, a little.' Which means, fluently.

       'Would you mind speaking English with me for a while?'

       'Okay!'

Even though I only wanted a conversation with a woman, if we liked each other I would have asked for a date. But I was never thinking beyond a chat when I started talking. Now I realise that, to them, I was coming on to them. My approach was likely intriguing to them because, at the time, Dutch men were the wallflowers and the women had to approach the ones they 'liked'. On top of that, the women where I lived had a lot of experience of English men trying to turn a chance into a story.

Now, somehow, I don't like how I was in those days. But this was a while back. In 2002, Shania Twain had a hit with 'I'm Gonna Getcha'.

I went to Genius and stole these lyrics:

[Chorus]
(I'm gonna getcha) I'm gonna getcha while I gotcha in sight
(I'm gonna getcha) I'm gonna getcha if it takes all night
(Yeah, you can betcha) You can betcha by the time I say "go"
(I'm gonna getcha) You'll never say "no"
(I'm gonna getcha) I'm gonna getcha, it's a matter of fact
(I'm gonna getcha) I'm gonna getcha, don't you worry 'bout that
(Yeah, you can betcha) You can bet your bottom dollar in time
(I'm gonna getcha, I'm gonna getcha) You're gonna be mine
Just like I should, I'll getcha good.

In 1992, Bizarre Inc, an electronic music band had a dance / trance track called, 'I'm gonna getcha'. that had the lyrics:

'I'm gonna get you, baby
I'm gonna get you, yes, I am
I'm gonna get you, baby
I'm gonna get you, yes, I am

Why waste your time?
You know you're gonna be mine
You know you're gonna be mine
You know you're gonna be mine.'

Lots of people were 'loved up' in those days having taken ecstasy.

Those weren't the examples I had in mind to illustrate my point; it was Blondie's 'One way or Another' (1978) featured in the 2000 film  'Ugly Coyote' that has the lyric, 'One Way or Another...I'm gonna get you'. and the refrain, 'I'm gonna getcha, I'm gonna getcha', that was in my head.

Blondie's song was used as an example in a radio chat show I heard, that predatory behaviour was publicly legitimised because pop culture influencers sang about it as a desirable quality. I can't remember when it was, probably before 2020 anyway. 

Some things clang in our heads like discordant bells dropped down a belfry. Good Crikeyness! I thought. Really? I had images in my head of young women serenaded on balconies and men persistent in asking for a woman's hand and winning her heart for true love to wash through the rest of their lives. I never considered that stalking is having an idea of wanting to spend some time with someone I am attracted to. I suppose, seeing someone at the water cooler and sighing 'Why won't he or she notice me?' is a lot different to, 'I know what time he / she has a break and I am gonna engineer a meeting with her or him.' which is a long way off from 'I will make you mine.'

I never considered that some people might be offended by me wanting to speak to them and using a short-cut to create an opportunity for that event to occur. Don't be thinking that the Dutch are disadvantaged when faced with a native of a foreign language they are speaking in. The only way I could tell they were not native speakers of English is their beautiful Dutch accent and that they never split the infinitive. (Not split infinitive - To go boldly. Split infinitive - To boldly go).

From being an avid hitch-hiker throughout Europe when I was in my early twenties, I had picked up a habit of just talking to anyone who would stand still for a while, It can get pretty lonely when you are young and no-one speaks English and you don't speak five languages as well as your own.

I have never really kicked the habit of being chatty. The truth is, I have adapted it by including a splash of irony or humour when I speak English to people in England. It sometimes back-fires.

I don't appear, to my neighbours, to live an ordinary life and have ordinary values. That is, they perceive me as being different to them. They have cars, I do not; They are terse with their good morning greetings (if they make them at all to me) while I am effusive; they have a facade for being in public and a private life, while I am just the same inside and out. They are wary of me, and because they are wary of me they are scared of me, and because they are scared of me they don't like me.

The most obvious thing in my speech is that I do not join the dots between comments I make; I just assume the people with their fingers in their ears will do that. If I do join the dots, they think I am being patronising. I have no idea of the mental acuity of people I speak to. To join or not to join?

In my local shop, the shopkeeper was keen to talk to me as soon as I walked in. I would eventually get to the counter so I just 'shopped'. When I went to pay, he said to his wife, 'Here he is. Here comes Martin.' He asked me where I had been because I hadn't been in for a week or so.

       'Hiding from you.'

       'Why? You don't owe me any money.' I never have, and nor will I.

       'You never know.' I blindly said. I didn't really want to have this kind of conversation so I was just glib and evasive.

At the Post Office part of the shop was a chap who lives obliquely across the road from me. 'He lives obliquely' might work in a poem about me. I had drawn his attention to me before the shopkeeper had started his questioning because the shopkeeper left him to come to greet me, and I had said, 'No I will wait. He is my neighbour, He lives in my road.' and 'He knows me.' It wasn't as it seems. I always give way to people whether they are on a lunch break, or if they have children in tow, or if they are in front of me in a queue. The 'He knows me' was the humour part. I know!

There are a number of facets to the scene now. There is a preconception of me held by my 'across the road' neighbour; there is an outward show of favour towards me; there is a suggestion that I might be so poor that I cannot afford food and build up debt; and there is my cross-functional spoken response to the shop-keepers curiousity as to where I had been for the last week. 

Fortunately, this particular chap isn't chatty and he doesn't talk to anyone in our road, as much as I have seen; but I am not a curtain-twitcher.

It could have been quite awkward. My carefully cultured wacky persona swept from its clown-sized feet by a clumsy spoken exchange and replaced with a sad, poverty-stricken idiot. Did I get that the wrong way around through wishful thinking? Perhaps I am not fooling anyone, after all.

To top it off; when I got home I discovered the Ajwain Seeds I wanted to ask the shopkeeper about, such as, 'What do these taste like? And what dish (meal) would you put them in?' were in my carrier bag. I accidentally bought them. They smell like stale Rosemary and Thyme mixed together. Stale smell and taste seems to be a Sri-Lankan thing. If you like WoodApple Jam (My shopkeeper sells it), you might like to try licking sugar from your dishcloth!

Mind your language.

All the lyrics are from Genius online.

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He haplessly fell, and helpless, I could not get up

[ 10 minute read ]

There was a man lying in the road yesterday; on one of the dual carriageways in the city. He had tripped and fallen and then went to sleep. Most people don't know what to do in these circumstances. We have seen television programmes of Americans calling , 'Stay with me! Stay with me, buddy!' but that is their language, and it is for the birds and film studios. 

Sure enough, by the time I arrived there were five women ineffectively gathered around the fallen man. It might just as well have been five men, none of them was in charge and none of them seemed to know what to do next. One woman was crouched down near his head. They didn't want to drag him off the road, and I was there for about seven or eight minutes before someone decided to phone for an ambulance. 

It is these two parallel actions that are the tells of the inefficacy of these helping bystanders that marks them out to be note-worthy, but also entirely normal. It would only take a nurse to roll up and the scene of slapstick chaos would be complete.

At least two of these 'helping' women had witnessed the man start to cross the road, and as he got to the middle of the two lanes he tripped and fell, and then didn't get up. I got there perhaps within two or three minutes of this occurring.

       'What happened?'

       'He tripped and fell'

       'Choose someone among you to be in charge, 'I said.

One of the woman mumbled and pointed to the woman crouching by the man's head. I assumed everyone had slotted into their positions to follow her. I didn't really care. In most cases, a man showing up to an unusual scene of five women standing over a prone person lying in the road is going to end in tears, if he tries to take control of the situation.

       'Is he bleeding?' I asked. No-one answered but there was no blood on his face or the road.

I refrained from asking if he was breathing or if he had a pulse. A quick glance told me he was a 'homeless' elderly man. He had no shoes on and there were none to be seen. he had a long, untrimmed salt and pepper beard and was wearing a black great-coat. There was a petrol service station he seemed to be heading for and it was about twelve noon. 

       'He might be a bit drunk.' I offered though uselessly. It made no difference to anyone's idea of what they should do. They just carried on ineffectively looking helpful and it seemed to me, barely managed to appear concerned, to the passing drivers.

Sure enough, just to complete the farce, another woman turned up. It was always going to happen. Sometimes, it is an extra man but only if there are already a lot of men who outnumber the women. If there are a lot of men a female nurse never appears out the blue. What happened next happens regardless of whether there are men or women around. Being 'nuts' is not gender specific.

       'I am a nurse.' Her voice should have triggered a warning in my head, but her breathless tremor was not really so evident that I noticed anything amiss at the time, and I was distracted by my own inability to make them all turn their backs so I could drag the man off the road and onto the central median.

       'He tripped and fell,' I told her. She barely acknowledged me. There were now six women and she was laying the foundations of a wall she hoped the others would labour on. I didn't notice any of the other women's attitude towards me change. 'Family Law', to them, would only ever be just two words together.

I have high-viz fluorescent green paint on my bicycle front forks and, since no-one was watching the traffic, I positioned myself and my bike to 'protect' the carriageway that these 'helpers' were stubbornly occupying. I thought about all the drunk students just twelve days ago, with traffic cones on their heads, and wished I could summon them before they had ever got home. 'Do your bit, lads and lasses, then take them off here.'

At this point, many people would think I am callous. 'Drag him off the road? You brute!' Look at it this way; If you were on a drunken night out and your friend fell over on a road, drunk, what would you do? Exactly! Since a couple of these women witnessed this man fall over they should have moved him off the road. Maybe he had a heart attack? Moving a heart attack victim won't sever his spinal cord. Maybe he has a brain hemorrhage? Take control and protect the scene.

After I had been there for five or six minutes and the nurse had showed up, someone phoned for an ambulance. The nurse came over to me and angrily said, 'Does someone want to direct traffic, instead of just.....' And there it is! 

       'Everyone is behaving well. The traffic is moving and no-one is panicking. You shouldn't try to confuse people if they act acting responsibly.' I replied. Another woman came over to me after another minute or two.

       'If you want to get going, I will take over. I have a hi-viz in my car.' she offered. She was helpless but calm, and not at all like the hapless woman pretending to be a nurse. She knew I was acting as a lookout.

       'I'm fine. Hi-viz forks,' I said pointing to my front forks.

       'Where did he get hit?' asked the nurse of the other women. You will remember that I had already told her that he had tripped and fallen. Two of the women pointed to the pot-hole in the road and told her they had seen him fall without being hit. The helpless and hapless 'nurse' however, looked around on the road, downstream of the traffic.

       'Where are his shoes? Where did they get flung to?' 

       'He doesn't have any,' one of the women patiently replied; like the others, helpless, now a spiky non-conversant worrier had turned up.

       'You had better phone the police too, because he is lying in the road.' The nurse shrilled. That won't help, I thought. I think the other women silently agreed, since no-one had already done so. One of them, a slight Indian woman complied.

The hapless barking nurse was beginning to sound a bit like the Martians in the film, 'When Mars Attacks!'. 'Ack Ack Ack!' The same words over and over, and only the intonation changing. We had stopped listening to her.

The traffic was passing at about eight miles an hour, and giving a wide berth to the gathering bodies around the man. A few drivers slowed down to a crawl to lasciviously rubber-neck, and I silently hoped their partners would eventually see the light and finally leave them for someone a bit brighter and more socially responsible. 

The hapless pretend nurse, it was obvious, had no experience of crouching on a portion of a dual carriageway, and eight mile an hour moving vehicles was freaking her out. No-one else was at all bothered. One or two of the women stopped the traffic so they could cross the road to get to a building, and then come back again. Nobody braked sharply or swerved. The cars that stopped for them remained stopped until I beckoned them on. All of them were sensible.

Because, I suspect, the women would never have allowed me to drag the man off the road by his wrist, I wanted to loop my belt through one of his own belt loops to prevent him from waking, attempting to rise, and end up falling into the open carriageway. If I had done so, the scary and fizzing pretend nurse would have had a melt-down, I thought. I resigned myself to having to sacrifice my bike if the man decided that the attention was fine and fun but the road was too cold now, and it was time to get up. I knew that I would have to throw my bike in front of a moving car to make them do an emergency stop; just in case he blindly shoved one of the women away from him. 

Plainly, the rabid hapless nurse wanted to stop the traffic, but there was no way I would do that, unless it was entirely necessary. I have a huge amount of experience of being in, blocking, and clearing carriageway lanes across the whole of Western Europe. I have experienced the different national styles of driving; a myriad of accidents both happening in front of me and old ones too. I have seen cats run over, and dogs and people flung into the air, and I understand the practicalities of panicking people into doing something other than what their nature tells them to do. On the autobahns of Germany with no speed limits, the only cars that are rear-ended, and are on the side of the road, have British number plates. I also know that stationary traffic causes accidents.

Backing up the traffic leaving the city, would paralyse the whole city. It is a tiny University city. The police and fire station are in the city centre, a five minute walk from the mouth-foaming witch who had decided to take charge. The onus of the position she had placed herself in was just too much for her. Man, woman, child; we all feel like that for a day or so, or if it is longer we upset our families.

Thirdly, and everyone ignores this; only a police officer can direct traffic and not get sued if there is an accident as a result of a driver following traffic controlling action. Yes, you will see road-workers controlling traffic, and, Good Crikeyness, you should obey them, because your insurance company recognises their experience and desire to protect both themselves and others' property.

Eventually, a rapid response ambulance turned up and squeaked its horn to alert us that it wanted to run us over if we didn't move. 'I am here; watch out!' Actually, the driver was just saying 'Be careful, because I am about to do an unusual thing by crossing the central median'. I moved and rode on, but not before I noticed a police car stop on the other, entirely clear and freely moving, carriageway. 'Great', I thought, 'That should slow the traffic down on that side of the road too!' I shook my head and was glad to be out of it and on my way.

When I got home, I waited for someone to phone me as a follow up to a business appointment I had in the city. I don't like waiting for phone calls, so I listened to LBC. The topic was on social media for under sixteens. There was a caller.

       '[...] I am fairly sure that I don't think original thoughts anymore. If I come across something unusual in my everyday life I think, "That reminds me of a TikTok video I saw last week, or something I read on X. I don't think for myself"

Not everybody has the same experiences in life and we don't act appropriately in many situations.

Someone at the scene of the fallen man should have taken charge and been able to answer questions; The marionette nurse should have had her strings cut and sent on her way because she was confusing everyone with her lack of experience; the woman who said she has a hi-viz jacket and was standing in the road should have been wearing it; The cars parked half on the road and half on the central median should have been fully on the road with their hazard warning lights on (none of the three there had them on); Someone should have been making sure the man did not rise up in mental anguish and start attacking people around him; and someone should have been shouting to get him to wake up.

Why didn't I do more? I think it is obvious; experience cannot be explained to inexperienced people. It didn't matter if the attending people were male or female; most people don't have original thoughts any more. Anyone who does is an alien.

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Mass calls to be honest

I am only a guinea-pig in my own laboratory

[ 9 minute read ]

It is not particularly surprising to me that whatever is the first thing my mind settles on, when I wake, dominates my thoughts for a while, until something else comes along to fascinate me.

Duck hatchlings will fix upon the first thing they see and call it mum. Of course, the 'thing' needs to move, have eyes and not look like itself. I don't think it needs to be alive though; 'imprinting' (Developmental Psychology and Ethology).

Is it the fixation on a subject while we are still waking that writes the Table of Contents for our day? Tomorrow, after I have washed and made a cup of tea and before I do anything else, perhaps I shall write a few words on flowers to see if I do more in my garden later in the evening - I have outside lights.

We all know that I don't need to let my thoughts dwell on my garden to recognise I have a desire to spend more time shaping it to my desire. But if I spend maybe the first twenty minutes from waking with a cup of tea and writing about farms and forests and flowers, I am fairly sure I will imprint my garden in my mind. And like the little ducklings following their mum, the imprinting will act to release the energy and motivation in me to actually pick up a fork and dig.

When I was fourteen, one of my friends said to me, 'To think you can, creates the force that can.' It was completely out of the blue, and apropos to nothing. It is sports psychology and may come under the chapter heading 'Visualise your Win' or something, but today it would be called 'manifesting' and that book is next to the one on Pilates and Yoga, but sometimes misplaced on the shelf on spirituality. Things are always better if we think they are new. He also liked to sing, 'Love is like oxygen, you get too much, you get too high; not enough, and you're gonna die. Love makes you high.'

My daughter, when she was a teenager was grumpy first thing in the morning. I told her to stick her head out her bedroom window when she got up and breathe all the air out of her lungs, until there was none left and then breathe in fresh air. Hold it for a few seconds, and slowly breathe all of it out until there was none left.  I said 'Do this three times and then come downstairs.'

Another trick(?) I had, was to laugh as soon as I woke up, for a few seconds. No particular reason, just laugh. It was a technique I used to calm irritated and frustrated workers in the flower bulb factories in The Netherlands. 

       'Bend over. Put your hands on your belly. Now straighten up and have a good rolling belly laugh. Bounce up and down a little like Father Christmas, but make sure you laugh.' The person felt better; the frustration gone, and the onlookers all smiled. I even became more attractive to some of the other workers.

Hume, the philosopher, believed that if we see someone laughing we are happy and if we see someone crying, it makes us sad. I am convinced that when there is a crisis a stable person makes the people caught up in the crisis feel more stable. I think Anne Heche in the film she made with Harrison Ford, 'Six Days Seven Nights' (1998) summed this up admirably when she said to him, something like, 'Don't fall apart because you are all that is holding me together.' It is a long time since I have seen it, so it is only a suggestion of what she said. I think the 'meat' of the sentiment is there though.

       'To think you can, creates the force that can.'

I had a conversation with someone a few days ago that puzzled me. He, the other guy, said that there is more mass in a human than in all of the space in space. I have no idea. He said he is interested in astronomy so I let it go because even if he is wrong I have nothing to counter anything he says, so it would be a monologue lecture. Either I listen or stop him pushing that idea, because either way I won't just accept what he says. 

The interesting thing is, he was trying to link the mass of a person with their force of authenticity or 'genuineness'. 

       'Children don't lie; they just say what they mean,' he postulated as though it is how much someone weighs that determines how their integrity is perceived by others; well, to him anyway.

I countered with 'Small children don't have blocks of information to sum together to make a coherent statement to outline their mental position', but in a much more conversational format with lots of sentences. Blah, blah, blah...heuristics!' But I was hooked on what he was saying.

I am open to all sorts of communication, telepathy, symbolism, words (spoken and written), tones and pitches in speech, images, and spiritual notions. I felt that this man might have something worth investigating, so I pursued it later in my head. Already I had been having discussions of mass-less fantasy creatures in fantasy stories so I was shaped for fitting through the narrow gates that led me to physics and gravity and magnets; attraction and repulsion.

A long time ago, I used to drink to oblivion when my PTSD got too much for me. I would drink for a few days just seeking unconsciousness. Eventually, I was temporarily 'healed' (?) and I stopped drinking. I always had money left and had food and stuff; it was just a alcohol-driven mental holiday. When you have spent a few days drunk, and only drunk, suddenly stopping drinking is dangerous. You have developed a physiological addiction and 'cold turkey' withdrawal is coming, and it is coming hard.

I could operate well after a day or so after the initial shaking and no sleep for three days and nights. One day though about a week after coming off the alcohol, I was in the local library writing some JavaScript code for my website and I thought I could hear an American radio show advertisement playing over and over again. Clearly, a bit of psychosis or auditory hallucination. The electric fans in the library were on because it was a warm Summer. I left the library and the American radio advert faded. 'Phew! that was nasty!' The library was in a cul-de-sac with no cars. When I got to a road with cars going along it, I noticed that the American radio advert came back in my head, got louder as they approached and faded as they passed away. Quickly, I sought an area away from roads, and sure enough where there were no induction motors or generators there were no American radio adverts in my head. I stored that episode in my memory. It has never happened again. However, in my tent in the woods and away from the roads I could hear the telephone wires nearby throbbing but not as a pulse, more as though they were sending Morse code. I thought at the time that the worlds power lines would make a good antenna for sending messages to alien ships in space or distress calls or something. I don't drink like that any more. With a creative mind though, the 'trips' were entertaining. I think it is more to do with sleep deprivation than the poisonous metabolised alcohol enzyme, acetaldehyde, which is then further metabolised into less harmful substances. You know, no dreaming means you 'trip' while you are awake. My jury is out on that because I am only a guinea-pig in my own laboratory.

Having recently been involved in discussions on fantasy creatures and mass; and having the experience of seemingly hearing electrical devices that give off either superfluous harmonics or electro-magetic fields; and understanding how gravity works to attract bodies of mass together; and learning that there is a type of fox that has to dive through snow to get to voles or small creatures which has a greater success rate when it aligns itself North Westerly; and learning that, that fox has a special protein in its eyes to be able to 'see' the Earth's magnetic field to align itself appropriately; when this man spoke of authenticity coming from the mass of someone, naturally I was intrigued.

Unfortunately, the man's shop manager came out to intimidate me because he was told by a young shop assistant that I was harassing the man with a weird idea. It wasn't me who started that conversation and I was only saying, 'Go on, I am intrigued' and 'I could argue that.' Do I give off something that makes people wary of me. I have been told that I also can be intimidating.

So, I gave the man my card and said 'Contact me because I want to continue this discussion.' He hasn't. Such a loss!

I am both fey and silly enough to believe that the shop manager is influenced by a malevolent spirit and has spiritually removed the man's tongue or his memory of talking to me, as he whipped my card from his hand. He might work for an intelligence agency. If I don't see the man again, it might be because they took him to work at GCHQ. Oooh! I hope so!

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[ 14 minute read ]  195 words per minute

Wait, What?

Faced with the controls of a spaceship when all I can do is ride a bike

It is not really my bent to write about anything that requires heavy editing, citing and referencing, or new research for that matter. However, I am deeply concerned about losing my identity.

I shan't write too many posts like this; it takes too long and is not really much fun. It also only acts to improve my ability to write academic essays; which I am not aiming for. All the links open in a new page.

This sort of post will be posted on my alternative blog site in future.

Elsewhere, in a much safer place, on an online learning platform, I have enjoyed a fun conversation with a professor of Linguistics. Sadly, we fell into discussing an issue that interests me greatly. It is sad because the question I asked her resulted in a disappointing, though no doubt accurate, answer.

I listen to James O'Brien on LBC, a UK national phone-in radio show. He likes to ask particular callers what EU laws they don't like that the UK was subject to prior to Brexit. I never hear any of the callers being able to offer a good reply to this.

On the 09th January 2026 'Euractiv' published an online article 'EU countries gear up to let US tap their citizens' biometrics'. 

https://www.euractiv.com/news/eu-countries-gear-up-to-let-us-tap-their-citizens-biometrics/

Washington demanded access back in 2022 as a condition for continuing visa-free travel for EU citizens – which it grants to all EU countries except Romania, Bulgaria and Cyprus. The scheme is referred to by the US as "Enhanced Border Security Partnerships" (EBSP).' (Henning 2026).

I have a Tesco loyalty card and a Co-op member card. Millions of UK citizens have loyalty cards solely for the discounts we can get when we shop in the right stores. I have a Tesco mobile SIM, but I will come back to that in a while.

However, you don't get something for nothing. The loyalty card scheme is within a marketing and logistics strategy. In logistics and supply chain management we learn that keeping inventory (warehousing) can make up as much as 25% of the total cost of sales. No large supermarket chain wants to store slow-selling goods. In marketing, we learn about being agile, or adapting to sudden changes in retailing trends.

In supply chain management we learn about the KanBan system, which though you may come across a number of ways to describe it (Chinese Whispers) it is ostensibly this: When a bag of sugar passes through a Tesco checkout someone in a warehouse, hopefully not too far away, puts a bag of sugar on a pallet; or more closely; in ALDI, when a pallet of sugar goes through a checkout, one by one, the number of bags of sugar is automatically counted, and when a specific number is reached someone replaces the pallet of sugar on the shop floor.

The free loyalty card is not free; you give up your identity and shopping habits to the associated business and its subsidiaries. Shop online with Argos, and Sainsbury's will email you with a survey. Which indicates a breach of the GDPR in that Argos, or any other entity, can only use your personal details for the sole purpose of carrying out the specific reason you gave them your details. No business that falls within the coverage of the GDPR (and this includes the UK) can ask for more details than are necessary for them to carry out any activity; neither may they pass your details to a parent company or associated  business. This means that asking for your email address or telephone number when you have provided a delivery address for a package to be delivered is illegal. The reason they want to alert you that a package will arrive is bipartite. 

1) It is an added customer service under the umbrella of an expansion of the idea of maintaining good customer relations. In Marketing, this is known as Customer Relationship Management (CRM). It makes customers feel as though the business cares. But you don't get something for nothing; from this added service customers are unconsciously increasing their brand loyalty towards the business - The real reason.

2) By alerting customers of an impending, and usually accurate, delivery time there is a hope that the customer will be at home to let the delivery driver into the high-rise flats, or past your security gates. This means they do not have to re-deliver the package or, in more recent times, store the package at their depot. Un-delivered packages are a logistics nightmare for businesses.

If you get a survey or texts notifying you of the whereabouts of your package  from a delivery company it is because the shipper gave away your personal details (email address) in breach of the GDPR. No-one needs to know anyone's email address to deliver a package to a geographical address.

A supermarket loyalty card, innocuous as they once were, told supermarkets about specific groups of shoppers. Martin is of this age and shops for guinea-pig food every Friday. Martin never buys straw, pet bedding, soup or broth mix. Ipso Facto, Martin is poor.

Seriously, it is so supermarkets know how much Hot Chocolate or cocoa powder to buy in Summer or ice-cream in Winter. In marketing, age groups are targeted, as are socio-economic groups. Your loyalty card gives large supermarket chains knowledge that allows them to source products at favourable rates before there is a run on them. In addition, no supermarket ever wants to have empty shelves; it ruins customer confidence and brand loyalty.

Now, I said that it was once innocuous. Times are changing, and rapidly. Now we have self-service tills that ONLY accept card payments. Each of these tills or checkouts have a camera aimed, not at the products passing the scanner; at your face! When questioned why people's faces are filmed the answer is to prevent theft. The true intent is to link your name with your face. Why? Facial recognition.

The price of price tags on shelves can be digitally controlled from the office or even from head office. Realistically, if you was the only person to enter a supermarket, every single price could be tailored to your budget or marketed to you. Great! No, it isn't, because there are two ways that this can happen.

a) your face was recognised as you walked in

b) the debit / credit card in your pocket or purse has been scanned. 

In either case, you are identified by name and your profile is known and is about to be added to.

As an explanation for b): the card reader at the checkout has a range of up to six feet. Its range is attenuated in order that the person standing behind you doesn't pay for your shopping. It could seek the strongest return but if you don't carry a card someone else would pay of your shopping.

There is no reason that a supermarket should record people's faces. Your face is a personal detail and is supposedly protected by GDPR as much as any biometric personal details such as your fingerprints, retina, or DNA. The problem lies in the public, who has largely ignored having their photo taken because they have been lulled into a false sense of security from their own desire to post their own faces online.

So far, I have outlined that we still have a choice, even though we have to work hard at it. If you don't use a loyalty card or debit card in Tesco they don't know what YOU bought. They don't really care they can still make forecasts. If you don't want your photo taken in the Co-op you can pay with cash. The cameras throughout the store that actually DO record theft captured you anyway, though. But it is the close up photo of your face that they need for facial recognition. 

In case you are wondering: Passport and driving licence photos used to allow the wearing of glasses; they no longer do because the lenses distort the sides of the face and mess up face-recognition analysis. Not a real problem because it is only the Government that has those photos, right?

And here is where James O'Brien comes in: 'What EU law do you not like?' he asks the people who voted to leave the EU.

Today an answer could be the one that allows the U.S.A. to access all my personal and biometric details, including my religion, and political and spiritual leanings, AND access to the last five years of all my social media posts and contacts. The United States of America is not covered by the GDPR and will share any information with whomever it likes. Effectively, the business in your European home town can get all your personal details from the USA when they can not get it from you, or any other entity in your country.

EU countries gear up to let US tap their citizens' biometrics

'Data on ethnic origins, political opinions, religious or philosophical beliefs, as well as genetic or biometric information, could be transferred under the framework agreement for EBSPs, according to a Commission document outlining its negotiating position...' (Henning, 2026)

The US is also reportedly considering requiring visa-exempt visitors to provide five years' worth of social media posts before being allowed to enter the country.'(Henning, 2026)

Now then, as I understand it, visa-free travel means you do not have to tell a country's authorities you are about to travel to it. However, if one wants to travel to the United States of America without a visa you must tell them you are coming so they can then request information about you from the EU. That is not visa-free travel because entry can be refused before you get there and that is both a cumbersome and time-consuming activity for the United States to conduct many, many times every single day. Of course, they have time to use A.I. assistive technology if you book a flight to the U.S. from an airport or travel on an ocean liner, but what if you drive from Canada or Mexico? You would be held up at the border crossing for quite a while until the border control and immigration officers pass you through after thoroughly checking you out. Too cumbersome for them to hold you and then request your information from the EU, I suggest.

Effectively, I propose it would work like this: Whether you intend to travel to the United States, or not, your details will be accessible to the United States whenever they decide to check on anyone in the EU. Even though each EU member state will allow differing levels of scrutiny, the overall conversation will go like this:

       'Hello Europe. How are you doing?' Weak at the knees and swooning, Europe will respond:

       'Thank you Donald, er, Mr President. You are a great leader and an inspiration to us all. Whatever you need, we have your back, thank you so much, sir.'

       'Give me all your information on every person in your country you call Europe.'

       'No problem, Sir. Shall we tell them that it is so they can be welcomed by the United States if they travel there?'

       'Yeah. Let them think that it is like a loyalty card where they are getting something for nothing. Coupons, we all need coupons. I don't care. Give them coupons!'

James O'Brien, however, has researchers to hand and it would take only about five seconds for them to discover that Ireland and Denmark would not be bound by the 'framework' because 'Ireland is not part of the passport-free Schengen area', and most interestingly, Denmark has carved itself out of the EU treaties. (Henning 2026). 

       'It would never have affected Britain. Is it straight bananas you object to?'

If you are not worried enough, check out Claudie Moreau's piece, 'ChatGPT gears up to tap into users' health information' on Euractiv.

'OpenAI's plan for a health-focused version of the AI chatbot faces privacy law hurdles in Europe' (Moreau, 2026)

'The new service would allow ChatGPT to access users' health data by integrating with medical apps and connected devices such as smartwatches, with the aim of better personalising responses to health-related queries. (Moreau, 2026).

OpenAI says the chatbot would provide tailored advice on areas like diet, exercise and even suitable insurance options, based on its analysis of patterns in an individual's healthcare data.' (Moreau, 2026)

But what about the linguistics professor? She teaches a MA in English. I asked her, 'According to the CEFR (Common European Framework Reference for languages), what level of competence would someone be if they have an MA in English. Her reply was, 'It should be C1 [as an entry], but most of her class are at B1 or B2 so they are keen to use A.I. assistive tools. 

I passed my forklift licence in the same class as a Palestinian man a few years ago. His English was pretty poor and he kept referring to an app that gave him translation into Arabic, I think. I mentioned to another English person that he won't learn English by doing that because it is too linear. Being a dictionary is not an English speaker and language acquisition is about the language dexterity utilised by a user of the language. The other English person cried 'He is translating into his own language!' However, the Palestinian's  English was good enough to ask us what an English word meant; he should have done that. Pride or laziness, I suspect, prevented him from even trying to learn English. But he like the Ukrainian man, wasn't in England to stay. They were training on forklifts in England to rebuild their countries from a logistics position.

I have already spoken of personal signatures in writing that AI can detect and collate. these students would not learn English and at the same time provide a personal writing signature for AI to profile them with. If it becomes necessary to be covert in their lives they would definitely not be able to do it in English.

According to this CEFR self-assessment chart:

https://rm.coe.int/CoERMPublicCommonSearchServices/DisplayDCTMContent?documentId=090000168045bb52

Loosely, the difference between B1 / B2 (Independent user) and C1 / C2 (proficient user) is that B1 and B2 independent users cannot write essays to any level of significant competence. If you are keen to use, or use, AI assistive tools check out why, if you are a native speaker, your language skills are not proficient. If you look at the skills in C1 and C2 you might notice that writers can write essays and can write for a specific audience (Writing for a specific audience is taught at level 3 in English Language). That is FHEQ 3. Entry level Open University modules are FHEQ 4. Is it a false sense of belief or laziness?

I don't post on the OU forums any more because there are insufficient safety protocols, but a conversation on whether the OU has tripped up new students by not making it clear that a certain language proficiency is required, is available elsewhere. It extends into whether education bodies are forcing people to use AI because the students are floundering, simply because they are not taught effectively.

The Tesco mobile SIM for which I get eighteen Tesco Clubcard points each month is pretty cheap for unlimited data (£18 p/m). Most people use SIMs in mobile phones and put apps on their phones. Telephone service providers know what phone you are using (my service providers kept telling me my dumb-phone is incompatible with the Government enforced 3G shutdown and upgrade to 4G and 5G). Service providers also know what apps you have on your phone, as does Google and Amazon. Everyone wants to know where we spend our money. Did I donate to the Gaza appeal or the building of a mosque? Do I sponsor animals like donkeys or cats? Will the USA let me in if my language proficiency is low and I use AI assistive tools and so my personal signature is known and I prolifically post on social media sites? Will the USA let me in if I don't use AI assistive tools and never post on social media site? And so my personal signature is not known? Is being invisible a perceived threat to the USA?

References

Henning, Maximilian., 2026, Euractiv website article, 'EU countries gear up to let US tap their citizens' biometrics' Posted: 09 January 2026. 

https://www.euractiv.com/news/eu-countries-gear-up-to-let-us-tap-their-citizens-biometrics/

Accessed 09:20, 09th January 2026

Moreau, C., 2026, Euractiv website article, 'ChatGPT gears up to tap into users' health information.' Posted 09th January 2026.

https://www.euractiv.com/news/chatgpt-gears-up-to-tap-into-users-health-information/

Accessed 05:05, 10th January 2026

CEFR

https://www.coe.int/en/web/common-european-framework-reference-languages/level-descriptions

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[ 5 minute read ]

Signature Characteristics

Persecution and a Sword of Damocles

How quickly an hour passes. I keep a record of things on my laptop that have times and dates attached. My first entry today is for 04:48 o'clock, in the morning, am. I started writing this at 05:45, quarter to six o'clock in the morning. I read somewhere that schools across the UK had to replace the clocks with hands with digital clocks because the pupils couldn't otherwise read the time; hence my pointed jab about spelling out the time. For all I know not being able to understand what numbers mean when they are separated by a colon and written down might be a thing. Certainly, it never occurred to me that parents and nursery schools would not teach kids how to read the time from real clocks. Seems a bit like disfavouring them for entry into the real world to me.

I went to an online writing course for that hour where the conversation is mild and interesting. The conversation I read today was about monetising written work online. There were some questions asked about whether my posts on that site are based on true life. I realised then that despite posting pseudo-interviews of myself, in which I am brutally honest about myself; elsewhere, in the name of fiction, I make stuff up. That has made me reassess my integrity. 

Currently, I am overwhelmed by a recognition that I deleted evidence of someone else's bad behaviour in order to 'co-operate' with a dampening down of what some people consider to be only a mild spat. I had it all in hand by my own behaviour though. It sticks in my craw so bad. It is the word 'co-operate' that gets me. It stinks of a devious plan to cover up malpractice in which by my co-operation I am complicit. However, there is a 'Sword of Damocles' hanging over my head and whistle-blowing would make that sword very real.

I watched a film on a DVD a while ago; the Academy Award winning 'The Lives of Others', written and directed by Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck. It is in German but thanks to my excellent skills at reading subtitles I understood most of it.

I think 'The Lives of Others' is based on a true story of lives in the former Soviet East Germany. It was an eye-opener for me. These days, the same level of surveillance is routine across all digital platforms, including any blog posts. Certainly Google's A.I. has read the entire internet, which includes all the work by students who use the plagiarism checking 'TurnItIn'. I think Google made that claim a few days ago.

When will humans begin to become serious about hiding their identity and more importantly, their unique personal signature of themselves? Sometimes, I find short passages of writing on my laptop that I seem to have randomly written about a subject. Because my writing style is fairly well practiced and, in the main, follows all the normal grammatical rules of other writers, I often cannot distinguish whether I copied a quote or came up with something myself. I have no doubt though that A.I. software would be able to pick out my writing signature. It is an aspect of me. If I wanted to use a pseudonym for writing, should I also learn to write differently. If I want to write an anonymous letter of complaint should I change my grammar slightly? Make mistakes?

I suppose the question I am asking myself is, who would I be deceiving? Me or the world? Outside of writing fiction, which seems to be a 'fair game' place for lying, assuming a different identity to avoid censure and cancellation of my real self seems dishonest. It is manipulative; but co-operating with something we don't agree with, and not speaking of our angst is being disrespectful to ourselves. 

I heard on LBC, the UK national radio phone-in channel, a woman complaining that she didn't think it is appropriate for the UK taxpayer to pay for appointment letters to be sent by the NHS to people who struggle with modern technology. I try to restrain my thoughts on such ideas or contrary ideas. Her overarching point was that everybody has to use modern technology (emails, websites, and mobile phones), so get on with it. 'My grandfather is ninety-three and he has no problem', she claimed. It should be understood that I might find that inflammatory and simplistic. There is little doubt in my mind from her signature characteristics of shallow linear thinking that she forced him to comply to her needs to use technology to contact him, and completely sidelined his personal comfort. 'Go and visit him as a real person you selfish cow'. Just guessing really - he might trade on the stock exchange or be a YouTuber, and she might one day save someone's life.

In Soviet East Germany, everyone had to spy on everyone else and report them for suspicious or nefarious activity. In the UK, we might as a whole, argue that it is because West Germany had a different approach towards its citizens that people in East Germany sought to free themselves from what they considered to be institutionalised persecution. Indeed, many East Germans had false identities and changed their characteristics to suit. But many did not change their characteristics and their personal signature was apparent; the Stasi cross-linked and found matches and they got caught.

Stasi - Official state security service of the German Democratic Republic (East Germany) (1950–1990); an abbreviation of Staatssicherheit. The intelligence service and secret police of East Germany.

https://www.britannica.com/topic/Stasi

Of course, I am making parallels of modern technology and the 'Stasi' and being careless of how they mesh. But, I am allowing some free-thoughts to evolve and die as they will. At the end of which I hope to be richer, if only by the exercise.

'Thank you for your co-operation.' Was that written by A.I.? Did Robocop say that?

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[ 7 minute read ]

Wonky Plan

The best laid plans of mice and men

According to The Poetry Foundation, Robert Burns turned up a mouse nest with a plough in 1785 and he wrote 'To a Mouse'

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43816/to-a-mouse-56d222ab36e33

The seventh verse has 'The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men

I think the last verse should always be with the penultimate, seventh verse, for the full sense of futility and unknowing to be realised.

Despite me vowing to move forward and press the day, I have been a little reluctant to skid about on my short bicycle. It is a little too small for me and being a mountain bike I am leaning precariously over the handlebars a bit too much to be able to fall gracefully. I am already halfway on the ground. I have fallen off that bike more times in the last year than all my other bikes in the last twenty years, put together. 

None of my bikes are new. I waste money recycling old bikes. Unfortunately, all bicycles eventually suffer from the same problem; the front sprocket (crankset) teeth wear away. Because there are a lot of them and because most bikes have three sets of teeth on the crankset, the rear sprockets with less teeth wears first and gets replaced as many as five times before the front crankset MUST be replaced. The worn crankset quickly wears new chains, which wear the back gear set / sprocket, faster and faster and faster. Eventually, it costs fifty to seventy pounds to replace the whole lot all at once for each bike. You can't only replace the chain and back gearset after a while; when the front crankset needs replacing; the chain slips. Unfortunately, the proper tools for removing the front crankset sometimes need a bit of help in the way of a gear-puller, which I do not have. There is a whole bunch of them in town, in the shops, five miles away.

I have been shying away from cycling on the slippery paths, waiting for a bit of a thaw. My outside thermometer shows minus four degrees at 04:39 am today. It snowed overnight. The best laid plans, huh? Let's be honest; I don't like the cold this Winter. That is something new for me.

In considering my position, and retrieving my plan to look into causalities, I now see that my focus is split. I love writing. I write best in the early mornings. It actually negatively impacts on my OU studies. Why? Because I drift off on a mystery tour that tickles my fancy; I am the driver and the tour guide as well as the passenger. In the real world, close reading of some text; which I should be doing, is not so much fun. It is pedestrian, and I have to read instructions at the pace that the unit writer wants me to read at. Working through exercises simply does not work for me. This is why I go online to augment my learning. Online stuff TELLS me what I need to know and my brain then assimilates how things work. Unfortunately we have to reference the OU unit text, so I have to read it!

       'All rise.' The susurration of clothes moving against bodies filled the court.

       'Martin Cadwell. You are before the court on the charge of willfully pretending you have all the answers to getting on with life after a hectic last year, when you clearly do not. How do you plead?'

From the gallery came shouts of 'Guilty' and 'Lock him up!'.

       'Guilty, your honour.' I hung my head in shame. A voice in my head told me to look up. 'I have brought a picture of a dead horse, your honour, if that helps.'

       'Yes, well.' The magistrate look puzzled.

       'Flogging.' whispered the usher. 'Flogging a dead horse.'

       'Flog him!' the crowd bayed.

I knew I deserved to be publicly pilloried for being a fraud; for being afraid of cold, but really quite mild weather; procrastination and allowing my intent to be diverted.

       'Martin Cadwell,' the magistrate eventually boomed, 'By your own sense of honour, you are guilty of the most heinous crime of dereliction of duty. You set your stall and people bought from you, only to find that you do not eat at your own table. I sentence you to cycling to town on your tiny bicycle over and through the snow, as fast as you can go with the false confidence that you have tried to instill in others.'

The court usher whispered again.

The magistrate continued, 'Wear a helmet, it could get tricky.'

*

And there we have it, my confidence is dented. I expect to fall off my bike because experience has told me that I will. Of course I will. I take risks that most other cyclists do not. I know the city and how to get through the traffic without stopping. I am not one of those crazy cyclists that insists on car drivers giving way to cyclists and pedestrians. I know they won't because they passed their tests before the new Highway Code came out and they don't know when they should give way. No, I position myself on the road to show my intent to do something, like turning right. This is not for the drivers behind me to take note of; it is to make the oncoming drivers aware that I WILL turn right as soon as there is a gap big enough for me to fit through without causing them to brake. Nobody ever sounds their horn or shouts at me. I never have to come to a full stop and my momentum carries me through. The danger comes from the hesitating oncoming driver who brakes and makes me stop. THEN the car behind me is suddenly thrown into taking evasive maneuvers. like braking. That is an incredibly dangerous situation.

       'Oh for goodness sake, you stupid cyclist. Get out of the way!'

So, my plan to be more proactive and strident in my forward activities has come down to looking at why I have stayed at home. It was always my plan to look at the causes of my stagnant stasis, though. 

Confidence on my reserve bicycle is low which has caused me to delay cycling to the city to buy an extra tool to change the front gear set on my other bikes simply because it is cold outside. I have allowed my low confidence and silly idea of preferring comfort to progress to prevent me removing a debilitating aspect of my life; namely, the reserve bike should only be the reserve bike.

A voice came into my head. 'Well done, Martin. Oh by the way, you look like a horse. The baying crowd in the courtroom are right, you should be flogged by your own hand. Let the Winter be the cat-o-nine-tails or the riders crop that punishes you for being lazy.'

That simply won't do for me though, because I know that if I perceive things differently I am not so much offended by weather.

I used to have to cycle against a headwind to work every weekday, years ago. I cursed and hated the wind. I bought a sailing boat and from that day on I would look out my window on windy days and think, 'Great sailing day!' Unfortunately, boats don't go on roads.

It snowed last night

Snow can fall as tiny frozen particles, which are more like the ice scraped from the inside of a home freezer. Snow, as we commonly recognise it as white clumps of frozen water, can fall straight down when there is no wind and the temperature of the flakes are too warm to keep the six fingered stars it naturally crystalises into when the conditions are right. It can float to the ground and is toyed with by the slightest hint of a wind when the temperature is just right. This is romantic snow. This is the snow that children stop doing their school-work and watch through the school-room windows, in awe. ‘It’s snowing’ they say. Their voices might just as well be welcoming Father Christmas because right before them is a magic show that means that they will have a new kind of fun. Different games will be played; snowball fights; making angels in the fallen snow with their bodies; and snowmen, women, children, and snow-animals will be made. This is the snow that we see on Christmas cards and photos of winter scenes when it lays atop branches and walls, and has bluish shadows, not grey. This is the snow that creates a monotone landscape, with stark silhouettes of trees and tiny cottages huddled on hillsides. This is the snow that sits on the thatched rooves of cottages with smoky chimneys on Victorian style Christmas cards and really exists in Yorkshire and Wales. The promised warmth of the fire inside the cottage makes us happy. But what if the snow is on a building with a collapsed roof, or lies atop a still body. What if the snow comes at the ground from an acute angle and is driven by a gale. What if cyclists trying to get home are blown into ditches, or sheep are lost on hillsides because they cannot see far enough to the next safe place? This is the same frozen water but comes in the name of destruction and ruin. A poet might make a romance from a blizzard but most of us have no affection for it.

But snow can be okay too. Snow can blanket the ground and seal it off from severe freezes. This can save the dormant bulbs and tubers for plants such as snowdrops, crocuses, and bluebells. I can celebrate snow in England because it precedes Spring when there is the excitement of new growth.

Let's go! 

       'Magistrate, I thank you for your wisdom and insight.'

The courtroom gallery fell silent. This wasn't what they came to see. 

*

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Associated with the posts here over the last few days are my views on Venezuela and the United States, which you can read at hegemo.co.uk (opens with a new page). Because there are a lot of people viewing my posts in this blog I have decided not to post about worrying global events.

Hegemo.co.uk is my own web page and I invite comments and especially views that can be published. You only need a little bit of knowledge or creativity to contribute. Please do.

https://www.hegemo.co.uk

Just scroll down the index page / landing page to read about my views on the Venezuela invasion.