The Unknown Factor of Life and ...

Do you hear the Ringing?

Cartoon Stock

A sure sign of Tinitus self misdiagnosis, but then its double entendre has to be time is nearing the end.
Going back to a an article about an Angel in the sky...I've begun to hear the music playing. Someone else has taken the Conductor's Wand and with a more powerful voice begun writing new music inside my head.

I suspect the concoction of pain killers and hayfever tablets with the weather changes has something to do with this. If it isn't it's more likely to do with the fact I found out about the Voca People from the Planet Voca, my that's an extra-ordinary musical performance from a highly original 'band'.

The question is do you hear the ringing? Well, connected with the Angels yet another addition I have found of Angels. And to the story too, the losing of ones soul:

Mist (Nebel) Orchestrations.

When in time we are ready to leave, the plug is pulled. Everyday, the wheels turn, the motors squeezed a little further, someone old and new comes past and yet no one wants to stop by.

I fear I have lost me

"Somewhere out there the real me exists, but this pretence I currently hold, is just an exaggeration of one scope. My softer suttleties are bruised and whatever I do are not repairing, everytime one step forwards, two steps back. I could be shouting from the skies and still be drowned out."

I smell the Division Bell coming, I see the awkward faces, I hear the unsaid thoughts. I am no longer meant to be, the struggle, the downfall, the end is here. Three months tops, it turns out no one is willing to provide a genuine warmth, all I see is cold breaths and murky scars even the genuine ones of olde have abandoned.* It's time to sail this ship one last time.

Foreclosure does not exist in humanity only as a commodity, I am not a commodity and therefore the end.

Why is all I have left to ask, why do I have to abandon ship.

The Tree of Life

*When accidental contact of people you knew from another life time occurs what is the appropriate thing to do? It turns out on this occasion, all that's happened is a direct line of interrogation. Once accompllished, you are forgotten. The aim: to prove they're better than you and throw you back in the heap and this from a lady of the church.

Smile for me, you are not in the picture.

"NO PHOTOGRAPHY HERE, THANK YOU"

The General Public, Happy, sad, mad, right wing, left wing, extremist. Untidy, OCD, in a mess, depressed and much much more.

Tell me what is it that makes us keep going, once we've seen it, why do we want to go back. We talk of enjoyment, yet no one is happy enough. To be happy you must after all be sad.

I've spent a month door knocking, my job is 'a public nuisance' I get to invade you privacy for what is a fraction of your life for some details to help your future. Yet you shut the door in my face. Where some blunty refuse to acknowledge I'm helping, narrow minded or jarred by the politics of data loss and security.

Whatever happened to helping people, why do some people not care about helping others, whilst some find me, "an inquisitor" the most bogus and horrible person around. I am not a salesman trying to find sell you you lecky, or a Jehovah withness, nor do I attempt to make you hand over money for a charitable fund. All I want is five minutes to ask "how do you live your life?" Is it so hard a question you won't give a stranger a chance.

Tell me how do you make new friends when you don't let strangers into your life, is your security so justifiable that I cannot impregnate the fortress you daren't yeald. Could I offer you a cup of coffee or do you think I've poisoned that and your garden plant a looked at on the way up too?

As for the rest of you, why do you not care at all and casually assume that I am who I say I am. Be thankful I've got clearance and I am who I say I am. I'm not here as my alter ego or my pseudonym. Never the twine meet, be lucky you haven't met any of them, I come as your friend and you turn me away, I am not god, but I expect you to respect me not hurt me.

If you had met anyone else, they might have been less kind, and I don't talk of any alter ego's. I am me all the time, but upset me and you will receive my wrath. Who I am in one place is not the same person in another. Oh, where are we going, have you left me to rot, why have you decided I should be here at all? Quite, when did I sign up to this life, this miserable little place. Everyday I wonder, is the last? Have I finally taken my last step?

Yet whose to thank, thankless parents, friends, unconducive, uncohesive communities, why don't you just shut the door in my face and I'll rot on your doorstep from the inside out. Get through my armour and I'm all yours like cats go for treats. But where were you, and why can't I find my companion, has she gone, is she here, was it you who shut the door in my face?

In one column, people are good, maybe a little OTT, but generally nice to chat too whoever they are and you can get along.
Yet so many people let the side down. You are the thick ones who just won't let me help, you are so closed to the world, that your personal, arrogant thoughts are egotistical and outrageous to the rest of us. Yet you claim to be intelligent, I wonder, what does it mean- intelligent - you and I are from the same stock, so how comes you find my skills distasteful. Why do you walk around prancing a line that is untrue, bending the information to suit your needs, you distrust me and won't help me. Yet you'll happily argue with me. If your so positive in your views, why don't you just get rid of me.

You see it's not me whose weak, it's you, you're the one questioning my job status, I am after all entering your life for just five minutes, taking all the essential details to how you live. You are scared, running, in fear of what I might see or remember. I don't make judgements on anything, I accept you for you...and you...you write me off with just a glance, you don't care to help me help you.

And then you complain that the world is unjust and doesn't help you or your community. Yet the help is staring you right in your face. I enable the details to make it better, all you have to do is give them to me. Are you so bigoted, you want things fixed by me but you won't give me the information I require to do the job?

I should just lie down in the dark and shoot myself because I'm never going to win. Just get off your high horse and get involved, instead of yelling at your TV about all the problems, come fix them, don't be a social nitwit. Get in with it.

Smile for me, you are not in the picture. You are just one of many people, a snap shot of life, helping the future, past is past its unreliable and the future is too without your help, let me in, for you may never get the chance again. Life's too short, is five minutes so hard.

Are we all just the same?

Where's Wally The Guardian Newspaper 1/06/2010

Hiding in Plain Sight

This is not just a story, it's interactive.

Saint-Sean Danse Macabre, used in the timeless soft mystery drama, or that's what he saw. Reflections from an inner world, an illusion of what could be possible but not at all unless some form of magic was truly ongoing. As when found by Jonathon Creek the magical trick unveils the truth, or that's what Angelo thought anyway. Using the knowledge of the Magicians Circus to inform and re-enact what had happened in real life. For, what was being unveiled in reality was a crime, an unsolvable mystery, that the crime had to have been an accident in the first place or better still covered up without anyone else knowing. The key to the 'crime' per se was the location, space and time of an accomplished illusion.

Angelo, looked on in amazement, contented that Mr Creek would solve the riddle, what Angelo didn't know at the time was that he had begun a long path. A path to where he was now, sat in a room with his few personal belongings wrapped up in boxes. He was stone cold, ten years earlier he'd been happy at home, now he thought he was home. Instead he was allocated a room in a large castle styled building, set in the depths of the north European Countries, bordering the Belgium-Netherlands landscape. Alone in his room, a window in the door showed frequent other residents walking past. After all it was a professionally designed place to look after the residents. Residents who had long since lost their faculties, or so that's what the staff said.

"Time stood still with his fingers in his ears, didn't want to hear it from another bunch of hollow men."
...excommunicated, excommunicated.
(Tears for Fears, Cold)

"We think he needs a little push...don't you? After all, if he doesn't recognise his problems he'll never be able to leave, and for such a young person that would be a shame. He's developed a nostalgia of sorts, seems to think he's living in about 1960 or something, to him the Cold War's still going on."

"Yes I noticed that, I believe we may have found the reason to that, many of his attributes are copies from his surroundings, he's lost his self. His self is an amalgamation of fictional characters, induced to be more realistic by real life events. He's been corrupted and overwhelmed by it all."

"Hmm, well I wouldn't normally recommend this, but pour a cup of coffee for him, make sure it's hot, I want to see how he reacts, he's always talking coffee I want to know why. He's so entangled in the cob web he's made for himself, he's either ended up lost in his own imagination far from where we can reach him or he's cut off and dumbed down. I wouldn't be surprised after all the things he's seen if his minds turned to mush, he will recover I'm sure, a few years perhaps.
He was doing so well CV's glowing, work, home, lifestyle perfect, yet somewhere something appears to have caught up with him, like his past has decided to come back to life, everybody he's ever known he's written off and left no evidence of them, he thinks they're out to get him."

"Do you think he trust's any one, we can't let him go he could do all kinds of damage to the public, this softly softly person seems to hold terrors in his mind, he could snap. Whatever his conspiracy it's finally caught up with him, he has produced his own prophecy" Scala and Kolacny Brothers, Self Full filling Prophecy, 2008.

"Yes, speaking of which I'm off to see that choral choir tonight he mentioned they actually sound pretty good."

*

Angelo sat in his empty desk, well to him it was cluttered full of his life's work, folders stacked high on racks, certainly not in there boxes in the other corner. Still unprepared to unpack, believing this new home would want to get rid of him fairly soon. He stared out the window, high above the small town, "the house on the hillside" where only the foolish broke in and those who went out were Over The Top - OTT literally for climbing the walls inside the house where no medication or therapy could help and for those out over the brick wall surrounding the grounds.

Two pigeons sat facing the window on the electric wire watching him. Merrily cleaning themselves on the wet, grey day. The fine drizzle, yet another function of what was held within the folders, he picked one off his table top and started reading. Yet he knew it was invisible, what he was reading was what he could remember in his head, his old room re-invisaged as if he'd gone back. The pigeons stared on, plucking and cleaning themselves. Angelo excepted they knew what he knew. His calculations were a new advancement in cloud seeding. Weather modification was never particularly proven to work, but under this, his numbers had suddenly become a necessary fact, it worked and he could modify every cloud from a fluffy white to a force ten gale.

Instead of handing over the information to the Met Office, he'd hidden it and tested it himself. with a bunch of local enthusiasts. "The pigeons know it worked", he said to a local offical collecting field data. But no one wanted to listen, after all the side effects were disastrous. It wasn't just modifying the weather, it was modifying the birds, they were now "living Angels". All birds have wings, but these had extra wings...nobody in his project would believe him, everytime he'd run a test he'd seen a readjustment in bird behaviour, predator to prey level, pigeons acting on mass, Red Kite's and Sparrow Hawks with regional power across the country, Golden Eagles standing tall over all. Angelo had reinvented animal communication and authority. Angel's by name and by flare.

*

All that was wanted was a way to run away. But working on our inhibitions their was no way out. What ever it was, the escape route from this nightmare was blocked, one car chase after another had to follow, running and running in an attempt to escape against the hunters driving, he could remember all the stories his friends told him, everything and nothing was real, the laws of physics, the positions of the stars and yet he didn't want to believe it. What he had was his own self belief and that wasn't enough, his friends yeah his friends ousted him, made to feel unwanted and now in downfall, most certainly cut off, they called it excommunication, as if the church would never let him in.

Reality had been separated, he no longer knew what was real or fake and the crossing of the line had formed, where once he spoke of truth and knowledge, he now crossed into a deep digression, not knowing how to escape, with no feedback from his surroundings to work on, with an even greater level of mistrust, he went on to describe works of fiction as fact and robbed his world of a reality check. Angelo had become too self contained, without an escape plan and without cause. His downfall from a proficient work force, with German Efficiency, Scottish hardiness and the mind like one of the greats of history, but for all that, dashed, something like Inception had beaten him to it or was that just a paradox or just a conspiracy of his fictional reality he believed (Inception, 2010)? His own core beliefs destroyed by his surroundings, that were themselves untrue and implanted by his own mind, yet to him somebody else was pulling the strings, a form of mis-information. "Find the common enemy to stop the rise of the animals", he remembered saying it so many times, public and private, the animals were coming to take control, alas the information brushed aside as mad. Yet he could see it happening everywhere.

*

"This is not a game to be playing with, I might be chewing on the best strawberries and raspberries in the area, but the juices flow from them, bright red like chopped tomatoes. It's not something I wish to understand, but I know now that my perception on reality is much different to everybody elses", Angelo said.

"Yes, you could say that. We think you've had a bit of a traumatic experience, something to push your mind over the threshold, everyone has a limit, I suggest some rest bite, try and reduce the panic attacks and take some of these pills, they will stabalise the imagination from running extra wild. I'd be careful what you do, but self discipline to control the mind is important, what do you think?"
"You think I'm delusional?"
"No not at all, but if you let your imagination run too wild, who's to say where you might end up. We wouldn't want any more damage to come to you."
"Really?"
"You don't believe us."
"No, you tell me I'm mad and I tell you that I've found a good answer, your're just trying to hold me at my will!"
"Ah, Angelo, there is no one holding you back. There is no conspiracy, we've been watching, you talk to the animals like they are humans, as if they are giving you a full conversation. You know that's not possible."
"You know that's not possible, have you heard yourself, I've found a way."
"Someone's, oh, someone's been trying to make you believe you can, and now you think you can, you've been programmed, were here to help. Also, I'd recommend you didn't carry on eating those Strawberries, god knows why they're extra red this year...can't be good for you."

*

(Muse, Uprising) Paperless walls covered in newspaper articles, photographs of people and messages, notes from old folders strewn across the floor. Back in the old house, the pigeons sat chattering away. Where once an impossible fact lay, now the animals began to sense order. Plotting their paths, Angelo could see no way out, they had started reading his notes, weather modification had made a gentetic change, a new beginning, the pigeons looked on at Angelo, lauging beguilly at him, altering the common rule, the human race would soon peril to the Eagle's command, the Hawks would quite literally rule the roost. Angelo sat in dismay as day by day his reality became more and more real until finally the resident staff could no longer help. Angelo sided with the Eagle's command structure, from the inside they grew up to be bigger and bolder until nothing was left but to reconcile with his destruction of the human species, sucked in to his own parallel universe he lost all that could have been. Eventually he would find his way out, or so everyone hoped (Take That, Reach Out- Stranger than Fiction version).

(Adele, Rolling in the Deep)

We should always look after each other, it's a form of politeness.

Survival and Postiveness Quotes I mentioned I'd find

I said I'd get hold of some quotes. So whilst it's all in the making, these are the ones which come to mind first. I hope this helps.

John Wiseman, in his 2004 SAS Survival Guide book, notes the Essentials For Survival stating:

Survival is the art of staying alive. Mental attitude is as important as physical endurance and knowledge. You must know how to take everything possible from nature and use to the full, how to attract attention to yourself so that rescuers may find you, how to make your way across unknown territory back to civilisation if there is no hope of rescue, navigating without map or compass. You must know how to maintain a healthy physical condition, or if sick or wounded heal yourself and others. You must be able to maintain your morale and that of others who share your situation.
Any equipment you have must be considered a bonus. Lack of equipment should not mean that you are unequipped, for you will carry skill and experience with you, but those skills and experience must not be allowed to get rusty and you must extend your knowledge all the time.

In other places, in the Foreword and comments of a core text in my first year at university, I found this:

"Geography is indispensable to survival. All animals, including American students who consistently fail their geography tests, must be competent applied geographers. How else do they get around find food and mate, avoid dangerous places" Yi-Fu Tuan 2002 (Daniels, 2002).

And just through sifting the quote logs on the Internet, this quote caught my eye for the exacting a dry humourous take on the reality that life can take:

"I blame my mother for my poor sex life. All she told me was, 'The man goes on top and the woman underneath.' For three years my husband and I slept in bunk beds" (Joan Rivers).

And in the National Geographical Magazine on the lives of the new modern Russia, this was one of many which struck me:

A special suicide feature of several Russian avenues and highways is a middle lane that runs in both directions...reserved for blue light vehicles...such a light is a desirable item for New Russians in a rush...the going rate $50,000. It is not unusual to see two motorcades speeding towards each other in a Russian version of chicken.

In other places, the old sayings of "practice makes perfect" holds true. Taught to be neat and tidy in my work, hopefully I'm not a square box with exacting lines, but to be organised, efficient and positive. Repetition is key, not in the sense of endurance although true it is an endurance and stamina test, but strengthening the will power I've found to require a certain level of parrot fashion learning.

I once new a man who stated he worked nine hours a day towards his exams, no one would believe me until you met him though. I could only imagine doing six before my brains fell apart. He was not mechanical or robotic (nicknamed terminator for his exacting abilities to be absolutely perfect, no untruth could get past him, ridiculous amounts of detailed knowledge) trained highly for his job, he knew exactly what to do, proficient in his and its cause.

After time, through practice, like sitting doing maths at school we arduously push our way through the endless questions to finally crack the theory and make it practical for everyday life.

Finally from me: Keep up the positives and they will keep you up. For Blues Begone notes that the little voice in your head can easily say negative things and therefore in order to stop being negative you must say to yourself positive things, turning the No's in to yeses. It's by no means easy (pundits beware) but to dig yourself out of a hole requires a lot of energy and by saying positives you can make the light brighter there is after all something which holds true to the USA's President Obama line 'Yes We Can'. Inspiration from others and inspiration from yourself increases your own interest and willingness to progress out of a spiral of decline. At the end of the day the future will be bright. Just like the Orange Mobile adverts: The Future's Bright, the Future's Orange. No that does not mean ginger haired Scotsman are about to take over the world, but the mobile network is promoting a promising start for the future. Otherwise, you end up at the bottom of the heap, and only feeling worse. And I can quite easily understand what it feels like to be the size of an ant, unwanted, no destination set, just endlessly wondering what is going to happen next, unable to comprehend the next step, the thought bubbles struck down and removed before forming properly, the control over the mind removed and left behind, staring out to sea not knowing whats going on around you, not forming the required responses. This is not helped by being indecisive either, but that's for another time.

Homing Beacon / Ancestrial Journeys

If I could find the full clip on YouTube I would show it to you because it means so much more with the pictures and gaelic music, but the words say enough in their own right. With the continuing theme I have shown in pictures and writing from October onwards, Sting has summed up a glowing of many attributes in his recent DVD: Sting A Winters Night, Live at Durham Cathedral (2009).

Talking on long winters, fire places and stories, of belief and taking us back to our origins in living in older times, centuries gone. Sting has provided a good conclusion as we angle closer to the longest night and the beginning of Winter. So, transcribing, quoting directly from his DVD (I wish the clip was out their) see what you can make of this:

I'm delighted to be here in Durham Cathedral...and I'm equally delighted to be back here in my home land, back to the north, I come here far too seldom, this is very much a home coming for me. And it's fitting that I would come home in the season of the winter, because winter seems to have this almost gravitational pull back towards one's roots, like a homing instinct where if we can, we tend to gravitate towards somewhere warm, cosy, somewhere safe: the fire side, the hearth, a candle, a family home and a church.
And were here in this most beautiful of English Cathedrals to Celebrate the Season of Winter, the season of cold frosts, long dark nights, but also of stories and spirits and ghosts in the chimney.
All the songs you'll here tonight are concerned with the theme of winter. Their from a variety of sources and historical periods, some as old as the Cathedral itself. Their are folk songs, sacred songs, secular songs, classical songs and a few of my own.
Winter for me, is the season of imagination, is the season of reflection where you're asked to face the ghosts of the past, and in facing them, you must treat them calmly and civilly...before the snows melt...and the cycles of the seasons...can begin once more.

"Alone We Stand Together"

Cancun, Mexico

Alone in this precipice,
Darkened Nights of terror,
And Days of misery,
Day by day and night by night we wander
Waiting for a brighter happier future.

Alone in this forsaken trash filled place
Darkened nights bring stars so bright,
For days of happiness quietly blow over,
Forgotten waiting of a journey, to a land not far from here.

Showering gloom and hot burning days,
Vented cold and dried burnt nights,
Seething air of misfortune hold little hope,
But air comes with misgivings of another front.

Hot coals sizzle under cold ice,
Alone the mischievous herald their power,
Together a future where all remain plain, but
Joyful, laughable slenderness of togetherness,
No room for the individual, only the brethren
Of family and groups, lost in place and lost in time.

Darkened Days and darkened Nights,
Filled with meteors filling up our light,
Where togetherness is everything but really,
Alone we remain,
Under a cloud of 'rain' in the night of meteor showers.

Alone we stand Together.

Skopje, Macedonia

Pictures from Perseid Meteor Shower from around the world
BBC News In Pictures

History in Perspective?

The Lives of Others (2006), gives an interesting account of the GDR before it fell in 1990. I've been somewhat in thought and in question about what the recent history has meant. I've always been fascinated by the Cold War at both the large scale Superpowers side with MAD and that at a much more local scale and human nature, of what society was like working for the system, and acting as the shadows operating the system. Those agents who watched and listened to judge each others next step during the arms race. In context it comes down to political and social views at a broadened scale.

As WW2 ended so began the questioning doubt of the USSR and its role. The movement of capitalism versus communism began. Soon a divided state and nation formed leaving Germany in two halves. Meanwhile, the Berlin Wall became a very real part of the Iron Curtain which remained the border between the east and west cutting Europe in half no less. So a new era in the history of human turmoil began- but without turmoil (just about).

The effects of the 20th Century are still felt very real. In my recent sleepless periods The Forum from the BBC World Service has provided even more questions and thoughts surrounding the effects even now 20 years on. The changes and cultural identity can still be felt being bounced and reflected, soaked up and consolidated into a meaningful feeling. Getting society to feel able to talk of the past without being judged or saying non PC things as we may put it here.

The amount of literature in fact and fiction has become vast in the subject, true stories of the published and unpublished accounts become more available and the fiction stories of so many secret agents and intelligence communities. I do really wonder what it was like to live in that time period, what was it like for the people not working for the government? Will history tell me all I need to know?

From the Earth Observatory,
By Living Earth.

The Music is Talking

Insomnia has taken hold, I can't sleep more than a few hours and now I have noticed that many pieces of music I thought I knew, particularly some recent classical stuff isn't quite what I thought it was.

I've muddled up some Karl Jenkins - Requiem with some music played by an Orchestral band who rewrites some rather heavy rock stuff from Germany. Only it turns out neither is it used by Karl Jenkins or the Orchestral band. I think its because the chords and timing is so similar with the chamber section that I found the similarity. It makes me wonder if anyone copied the music idea as the similarity begins with the film Insomnia (2002) of all places. The Orchestral music only came out a few months ago. Weirder still, Insomnia (2002) in itself is a remake of the Norwegian film version (1997). And I am suffering from way too little sleep as I try to piece this all together.

Picture from the Mark Hess Collection

What's the point any more? - Questions for the disillusioned

The Plank Telescope view of the Galaxy

I have too many questions, thoughts, puzzles, facts and illogical details all whizzing around and becoming connected with each other. So I reflect and find it helps at times, however not always as those may take note by my last blog which isn't the best posting.

And so I have endless questions I regularly ask and get asked:

Why are we here?
What comes after Earth?
Who made the stuff outside the universe?
Why do we have nightmares?
Why is everything a blur?
What happened to the focus? I'm sure I use to be better than this...
Who decided to turn out the light and leave us alone?
Why can't we be given hugs as adults? Children get them all the time.
What do you want from me?
Why can't I see the wood for the tree's?
What's the telephone number and address to...?
Can't I just have a peaceful day where I'm happy?
What's the point in living if you don't feel alive?
Why did God leave me?
Who are you?
I just wanted to help, was that so bad?
Why do you always grumble at me, can't I just help?
Can I please have my pen back?
Why are you ignoring me?
Why is it always so noisy?
If I'm talking to you, why can't anyone else see you - what's wrong with me?
Everyone gives me strange looks, can you help me?
It makes perfect sense, what's wrong with you?
Was it something I said?
Did I get to close?
What were you looking for exactly?
Can I just hide away?
Don't ask, I don't understand, what are you getting at?
If X=Y, what does x and x mean?
Is there really hope or is it just nonsense?
Why can't we all just get along?
Who did you want again?
Why do you always look at me like that?
Do you have to do that?
Do you ever understand my jokes?
What are you waiting for?
Can't I just be happy for once?
Why does it hurt?
Why do you care?
Is that really what you mean?
Are you feeling OK?
What's going on?
What is the point exactly?
Did you have to say that?
Is this really what you want?
Am I really of any use?
Why are we just going round in circles?

Coming In From the Cold?

Alec Leamas, he was there when the Berlin Wall was built. He watched it going up so he told me, day after day, brick by brick, he said it terrified him, well it would. But he also said, there was a kind of war time thrill to it, he knew that feeling well enough, me too, his blood was up. They might have called this the Cold War but to Alec it was definitely war, hot and real. He ran agents both sides of that monstrous thing. "I wouldn't be surprised" he said "if it never comes down, but a network of agents, well, that can crumble at any moment".

John Le Carre - The Spy Who Came In From the Cold. Opening Lines from an Office Clerk, Radio 4 Adaptaion.BBC Radio Advert

Political Reflections

Are we a fractured society?
Should our constituencies be the shape they are?
Is proportional representation the right way?

How about a new idea:
Lets vote for people who want the job as PM or that cabinet position. We employ these people by voting them in. So why can't we vote for the person who wants the job as PM or Cabinet post and not be controlled by party connections. We don't after all get to choose the Cabinet just the leader of it and a bunch of MPs connected to a party political line.

Should we still be tied to party's? Have party's finally had their day?

If this doesn't seem right, try this idea instead:
Every party that is wanting to be elected to the House of Commons should have a person in every constituency providing a more equal representation of each party's chances. This would indeed remove the minority party's unless they really have some clout. The local elections can get have more freedom from this view to allow for independents.

Ironically, the Conservative Party have almost won with 302 at the national level but the local elections show they have lost to Labour, Labour who increased there councillors by 249, Conservative lost 78 Local Councils today. Do we have split personality as a nation or does local and national positions really vary that much in the party lines.Local Councils.

And if you hated the idea of proportional voting in anyway, look at the Liberal Democrat votes against the other party's: United Kingdom Equality on voting: Sex, Race, Religion, Disability are all equal but were not to vote equally apparently Voted for Numbers,Changing the Way we Vote.*

Is this a case of Animal Farm by George Orwell?
We are all equal but some are more equal than others?
Or a case of What a Carve Up by Jonathan Coe? The Winshaw Legacy. Doomed to the end.

P.s. How ironic there was a plane crash with the ex-leader of the UKIP party, so happens there is a plane crash in What a Carve Up too. For those who know the book, you'll understand my double pointed view on this.

*I understand some people's issues with BBC information and the suggested links to government control. But all media should not be trusted and this page shows the point quite well.

Feel Me, Hear Me, See Me... I Don't Understand

Quite often I write these entries with some form of music that reminds me of what I am meant to be writing on.

I've seen a number of ups and downs in the last couple of weeks, however the last few days have thrown more spanners at me than what the local Halfords could ever sell in a year.

Recently absolved from high worries from watching over those few friends slightly more stressed with coursework, awaiting news on what has made the car go wrong- and finally fixed it with the help from the local garage and breakdown recovery. The endless mind games between previous requisites, formidable forces of so called lost but not forgotten friends... Remuneration seems to lacking frequently. It all starts to sound a bit Freud and hollow in my head. There is a rather 'boring' horror film I got to watch the other evening, this reminded me of the piece of music which kind of relates to the whole matter. F.E.A.R (UNKLE remix) no less, but look up the original and it all sinks in to place with the ideas behind the horror film from 2003 Octane. Self obsessed cults with forbidden rights unless broken in the right way granted, cults blood- shed, and apparent life styles linked to what can only be described as sick to the teeth. I digress.

Getting back to the music, this form of thought and worry, the escaping achievement and success with survival over powers any other thoughts within the context given, other than the most weirdest seen within the film- certainly not to be seen by those of a nervous disposition.
So, the point here is always get back in touch with those people lost in the past. You never know if they need redeeming. You never know what may be lurking round the corner.

This brings me on to a neat topic and deep discussion (one of many I have with my front desk) the belief that humans are always kind, willing, trustworthy people. That unless someone cheats and you are cut out of life, time will heal the pain. Relationships, friendships hold bonds. But none the less trust is built over time, meanwhile for the average stranger we meet day to day, we have to trust them without doubt frequently- even for those paranoid- a level of trust is inbuilt.

And yet, the psychology eludes me for complete answers to these issues and I cant write a book on the matter yet, research your own views...as the title to this document says, I don't understand. (Rammstein, Ich Will) Strange parts to this world.

Photography

They say a photo is worth a thousand words. Last week I heard of a competition being run in my department. This was to photograph our time on our degree course for one category, the other to photograph our time in the city, views of the city and wider university.

Neither of these are easy, lots of design and planning may have to go in to this. I did not intend on entering this competition. However, it has set my mind churning, churning to find a photo which represents my subject and its wider context. This could not be entered in to the competition, but if I had to create a photo of Environmental monitoring, modelling and reconstruction or Geography what would the photo be.

When I did my undergraduate course I was in Canterbury, Kent. In this time I went on many a walk with Sam (friend and housemate). These two photos have him in them. I happened to look through my collection and came upon this photo and have made some simple edits. These photos sum up geography in many respects.

In the first instance, the colour one. It was not designed to look aged, but due to the light balance and October morning mist across the farmland, grassland, barracks area. It appears to be 1960s a bit. This photo shows a man not just looking, studying his surroundings, binoculars at the ready. Prepared for bird watching and spotting any form of wildlife that we may pass. He stares to the left wondering what is down the way. The rural idyll that geographers talk of so much and prescribes the general public's want for a perfect countryside is seen here.



Agriculture in the foreground, woodland in the background. He stands studying the complexities of the local geomorphological processes, the conservation issues and weather at the site. Standing completely still he awaits the natural habitat to open up for him on this cold and misty morning.




In the second version. I have made it black and white and adjusted the balance. Its purposely aged. I tried to get a 1930s-1940s feel, but without giving it a yellow staining for real this looks slightly new. The sharp black of the scarf around the neck, with the foreground sharpened; the background still in tact but making you wonder what's going on it still hides the big secret behind the mist. The field disintegrates before reaching the tree line at ground level and yet we know there is a woodland out there.

The Incompetence of Death

Well the title is purposely designed to make you think. I am going to talk about death and the lack of discussion that surrounds death these days. I also want to bring home the ideas of why we try to ignore it and why we are so oblivious to other peoples needs.

First off, I found out this week that an Aunt to a friend of mine died this week. For many of us we have experienced this effect of losing a loved one whether family or friend. However, many people do not experience the affect of losing a close friend or family member until they are almost middle aged.

For those who lose someone early on in life and worse still that of a parent can be tough. I for one know this, losing mum at 15. Still young in life I was not quite set up and ready to enter the real world on my own and some friends left me to get on with it whilst others rallied round to make sure I didn't go off the rails and lose my mind. This I am much grateful for and those who were around at the time know how much that means. Or I hope they do at least.

When did society stop caring though, why does everyone attempt to hide the pain of what is going on in there life? Is this for professional integrity, should those in managerial roles that fall apart at losing someone be demanded to stay in focus...what does this do to the mental health of the person in the long term? What does this do for the managing our feelings. On the other hand, if they did not show any effect or feeling of loss, does this then make them a terrible person, a person with no care and attention?

Well I say yes, and this is slightly hypocritical of myself. In order to not lose complete order and just let everything fall to pieces we need composure and assurances. I attempt to keep working at what I'm doing, by keeping busy I do not allow the feelings of loss to become too over whelming and in doing so I also have a way of finding time to reflect on the past and the loss.

But, I have noticed over the years that the more we hide from death the sharper the pain can be for experiencing the loss again and again years after the death, and the pain is also sharper for ignoring death all together and then when it happens were expected to keep ourselves in focus even though we have lost someone that very day or week or month.

This is overly humiliating for the human society. We are no longer allowed to feel these things.

On being told that a friend has experienced a loss we should all acknowledge the loss and feel sympathetic. For those who say they have no feelings and just say "well OK get back to work asap" are they cold and inconsiderate? Most definitely. However, this is a two way street. Firstly, the person who is told of the death needs to have experienced some loss of there own, otherwise they cannot imagine what its like for the person who has to tell them. Secondly, if they have never experienced any loss at all, they are unlikely to know what to say or do... at that most people do not know what to say or do, they are unsure of what the right thing is to say or do when somebody comes to them and says, " A friend died last week".

Looking for compassion and understanding, meaning and a sense of loss or hopelessness starts to creep in. The person who has lost the friend or family member needs some coping strategy and humans will undoubtedly try to find a strategy. The mind begins to devour itself if left to its own devices. The person who has lost someone begins to long road to recovery for the grief. This in some respects can lead to the five forms of grief:

http://psychcentral.com/lib/2006/the-5-stages-of-loss-and-grief/

Denial and Isolation,
Anger
Bargaining
Depression
Acceptance

All of which can happen fast or slow and in any order.

The isolation can begin very quickly as everyone gets on and you're left behind still wondering how life is ever going to be the same again. This is only going to be made worse by those who are told and react badly or inconsiderately towards the news.

Therefore we must stand together and acknowledge that death is happening and be an understanding, caring and open person to those who do suffer a loss. It is not possible to carry on ignoring the truth, one day we are all going to die. What is going to be left behind, will we have children, parents, brothers, sisters, close friends and not so close friends, no one?

What happens after death no one knows, this is an unknown until it is happening. That is why faith exists, because it is a hope that life goes on even if on another plane of existence. We all need to believe, and if we do not believe in a high power then maybe this is a reason in itself for why some people are so cold towards death. They are scared by the idea beyond comprehension or perhaps take it that what once existed must end and nothing after our time on the Earth exists. However, would this not make those disbelievers not only uncaring in certain respects, if of that mentality-certainly those who have no faith can also be the most caring for time is short on our planet-and wouldn't they also take into consideration the actual feeling of death. For we all go to bed and shut our eyes and when asleep we are none the wiser of what's going on around us. Is sleep like a form of death? And with sleep an unconscious activity, would we ever know that we were dead if it was like sleep?

After all, when we do go to bed we may never wake up again. One day we may just drop dead, and death is everywhere, but we just accept that another person in the news has died and carry on, forgetting that another person or family are at a loss. We need to begin to be a little bit more caring and look out for one another. It seems death is never spoken of and when it is spoken of, it's wrapped back up in its box as fast as possible once its happened, (No pun intended). Another life has come and gone, time moves on and it has forgotten. Everything left to the history books to unravel the past for the new generation. Where death is everywhere but most certainly kept between the pages of history books.

Lets not be silly about death lets try to have a grown up discussion and make sure everyone is OK with what is happening around them. Keep your eyes peeled for you never know death maybe just round the corner and someone you know will die or someone you know will tell you someone they knew has died . Be caring.

Voices

I admittedly was standing in a noisy pub called The Font in Manchester on Thursday evening. However, one of my class mates who has only spoken to me a couple of time mis took my accent and asked if I was German.

My accent is an aquired taste. I've been told I sound a bit like:
South London,
Southern England,
Oxford,
New Zealand,
German,
and apparently have something similar to a famous voice, but no one could work out who.

All I know is, I'm certainly Southern England in origin born in Sutton and Carshalton and lived in the Epsom and Ewell area most of my life until recently (last 5 years). I've spent three in Canterbury, Kent and One in West Berkshire now I'm in Manchester.

The rest well I know I can delve into Yorkshire, the Somerset/Devon region, Scottish and South African with a relative amount of ease as long as I have practiced it before hand or have some one next to me with the accent. I tend to mimic if I'm not careful, I do watch myself for this. I can speak to Yorkshire friends or go to York and come true Northern. It is quite scary.

A question was asked of a character in the book I'm reading - "Set In Darkness" by Ian Rankin. They were noted as able to mimic quite easily, they were english by nature but living in Scotland
"...is the Mimic an effect of wanting to fit in to a group, society set or culture?"

The answer for the character I have yet to find, but for me, my voice is just another part of who I am. My voice is always the same to me...so why do I appear to sound like a mix of everyone. I'm not generic and friends who I've known for a long time say I sound most like that of Southern England, so why do I have such a mixed reaction from northern quarters of England and over seas people?

The human mind: What do these pictures say to you?

Reflection

On now finding it is February, January had a number of shocking events in it I prefer to forget. January 2010 is not much different to that of many years gone by. Still when you realise that music is practically telling your life you have to begin to wonder. Music is a very powerful instrument upon society and can provide the mood and tell a story for society, history, love, and many other individual and group views that we see during the day. Music mostly associates itself with that of love and prominent views (quite often political) in current times.

Given that this blog is forever sucked into Pink Floyd, sometime I wonder if Pink Floyd has gotten under my skin to the point I just think and feel in its words. This I am glad to say I do not, this does not necessarily mean that I do not ever as when listening to them I can often look back on the past. The same goes for specific tracks from Tears For Fears and oddly enough Scissor Sisters. Karl Jenkins can make you cry if you listen to 'The Armed Man' Album for long enough, however whilst not necessarily delicate, Rammstein is by no means an easy listen being rock-metal. However they do have there moments which seem just right musically although the words are often not the nicest to translate.

Therefore, I leave you with these words from the Pink Floyd Album "The Final Cut" as at the moment it seems to set the correct tone for the current efforts. Especially the line highlighted in bold.

1

When you're one of the few to land on your feet
What do you do to make ends meet?
(Teach.)
Make them mad, make them sad, make them add two and two.
Make them me, make them you, make them do what you want them to.
Make them laugh, make them cry, make them lie down and die.

2

Sweetheart sweetheart are you fast asleep? Good.
'Cause that's the only time that I can really speak to you.
And there is something that I've locked away
A memory that is too painful
To withstand the light of day.

3

After the service when you're walking slowly to the car
And the silver in her hair shines in the cold November air
You hear the tolling bell
And touch the silk in your lapel
And as the tear drops rise to meet the comfort of the band
You take her frail hand
And hold on to the dream.

4

You put on your brave face and slip over the road for a jar.
Fixing your grin as you casually lean on the bar,
Laughing too loud at the rest of the world
With the boys in the crowd
You hide, hide, hide,
Behind petrified eyes.

You believed in their stories of fame, fortune and glory.
Now you're lost in a haze of alcohol soft middle age
The pie in the sky turned out to be miles too high.
And you hide, hide, hide,
Behind brown and mild eyes.

1. One of the Few, 2. The Hero's Return, 3. The Gunner's Dream, 4. Paranoid Eyes
http://www.pink-floyd-lyrics.com/html/one-of-the-few-final-lyrics.html

Communication Gone South

Experiences part 3

I was texting a friend I've known for years a couple of days ago. I asked him how his trip to a Royal Navy vessel for some work had gone, basically attempting to see if he had enjoyed the day trip.

The reply was: Have a look at FB photos then ask the question.

So in a huff and fed up with social networking and how it consumes everybody. I realised it has turned into some information source, what we call "A Commons Source", therefore the information can be inaccurate because anybody can adjust it, neither is it backed up by evidence.

I wrote back a text: "Digital Age. One day no one will talk because everyone will be all seeing all knowing through fb. There will never be pleasantries in the future because our technology psychologists will have put our thoughts typed and in images on our foreheads all to see what were thinking. This is not 1984 but 2024." and signed off with some sarcastic comment about how I will look at the photos at some point.

The basic point is, I like to find out from you, not from some third party that you may have uploaded your life on to. I would like to know what your doing, I would like to talk to you. But I do not expect to have to follow your every move to then ask a question that may not need to be asked.

By asking a question of how some is or if they had a good day, I am trying to be nice and trying to make some concious effort to be a good friend. To make an connection with the person. To suggest our lives have been consumed by social networking sites is probably an understatement.

In future, I can research and get in depth knowledge from places like facebook, but I have no knowing if it is real, or just as good or bad as the photos and comments suggest. Whilst many people will find looking at photos a thing of the past or something done with the grandparents, why are we still taking them? Because we like to remember. They are good to show people, but not everyone wants to see every photo you own, and no one should be expected to know everything about you. Otherwise life will get very boring very quickly and communnication between people will degrade. Technology is not always the best way forward. Some of the things from years gone by do just as good a job as new modern technology does. We should attempt to mingle and enjoy each others company not hide away fearing for another human being talking to us.

The truth is harboured and reassured in the human body by direct contact and conversation with a person. There is nothing worse than feeling alone; to not have anybody to hold on to at all. Although some may argue otherwise: http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00q3gjq
John Ronson On Being Alone

We can assess our own impression of some one through conversation. Social networking and instant chat do not necessarily help our language skills or gain an impression of some one because we value not just the words, but the voice and the facial expressions. So next time you make direct contact with someone in person be happy to see them.