The Committed Man

In front of the open fire, slouched on the small settee I sat. No energy to move, but to take the long poker and prod the fire. Late in the evening the last rain falls before spring truly begins. Cold and miserable outside and yet beautifully drawn from an artists quill. Lush greens and soaking wet flowers, the first shoots of wild flowers don the landscape amongst the wooden hut where I sit alone.

A fresh bottle of Macallan Whiskey sits on the small three legged stool across the room, I'm finishing the last drop of the last bottle next to me. Poking the fire, I finally get the energy to move and cross the dining area collect the bottle and flip the CD player off. Gone the days of vinyl, however good it sounds, they are all degraded and so I listen on the CD's.

Lost in time, the day draws in, back in my settee, the dining room is empty, all there is, is my fire, my table and me. I turn the chair around and grab the TV remote, the oldest looking 15" TV sits on a low table. The whiskey drowning out the wet drip through the ceiling. The fire spitting constantly trying to keep the place from the outside wet intrusion.

If only it was all true, rolled up in thick fleece layers and rugs, crouched under a fire light with a CD playing in the background. A fully furnished dining room behind me and nothing but the loving wife soon to be home. She remains placed in the frame, next to the CD player, a by gone age, and yet still very real. What was once a happy place, now no longer remains. All that remains of that era down the drain with the Macallan. Yet I beg to join her, and yet I beg to not. Rocking away on my settee at all those times, the dining room now empty, all but remains is my memories of a by gone age.

Yet another sip of disillusioned happiness, the wet drip in the room makes the floorboards creek. I look up in hope to see her standing by the door. No, I go back to the memories and play the CD's and commit no energy to the flickering TV screen as I poke the fire and drink away, rocking in ceremony at yet another by gone age.

The nurse comes and provides me my daily dose of medicines to help me sleep, she looks at me as if I'm insane, she says I had no wife and had no place where I poked my fire and yet the photo looks so much like the nurse. She and I have exactly the same conversation: Elizabeth never came today, the Whiskey took her away, she left me this photo and CD.

The nurse smiles tentatively and tells me that it's not real. Everyday of the last 25 years is not real. I look back and say Elizabeth was real you are not real. I throw the current glass of Whiskey into the fire and fall back to sleep. When I wake up I will be chained to yet another bed, drip fed for no reason. The nurse tells me I'm not eating, but I always eat when Elizabeth's around, its just she hasn't come back from her last journey. It takes all day, but eventually I get back to my fire and sit listening to the CD and wait for Elizabeth to come home, the Whiskey can't keep her forever. Maybe I can join her.

All I want to do is go play on the grass as if we were kids again, but my old age stops my legs from doing that, Elizabeth always had so much energy, she always gave me so much energy. We could do so much together. Now I wait slouched in my settee, with my drink, poking the fire as the CD comes back to an end, I hear that creaking floorboard again as the drip from the ceiling wets and dries from the fire. Drip drip drip... where are you Elizabeth, who is this nurse?

The Committed Man Part II

Should we be worried?

Its time to think about where we are going? Seeing as I keep mentioning What A Carve Up due to our recent amount of political changes. Don't forget the fact that there are a number of other weird and wonderful factors to deal with out there.Electric Light Orchestra, 49th Street Massacre, Manhattan Rumble.

It's time to find a new voice in amongst the crowd, yet again people with Barcode's on there head's are running around. Hitman Trailer (2007).

Do you remember the days of the X5's who broke out of Manticore?Dark Angel, is this yet another period in our history of looking for genetically modified, Universally controlled soldiers, extra terrestrial information from good old Area 51 Now known as Warehouse 13 and dare I say it, Vampires.

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

Time after Time

Saint John's Point County Down.

They say photos express a 1000 words. Well I never intend to write a 1000 words, but I can merrily knock a 1000 words out in an email if needed.

Back to the subject from months back of what photos mean to people. Is it a psychology answer I'm really after, no. But if you can find what the photo is describing and explaining to you, then you can begin to question why its showing you that.

Books full of long and short stories, poems, quotes, pundit lines and food for thought always detail and make you bring a new feeling to reality. Here I ask again for you to look at this photo and see what its saying.

I also have one other thought for everyone. Not everything I say and do is plain straight up. So as always like an East Egg hunt, I expect you to find your own clues and your own thoughts. After all my "Sweet Harmony" and "Gargoyles" photo I have uploaded from the internet now show multiple meanings not just the intentional thought.

This wet road roles up the hill, moisture freezes between the rocks and clouds show the threats of storms as if peace was needed across the shores. As bright as the sunshine the lighthouse provides a way across, alas the sea churns and many a ship has been set down on these shores. Down comes the strikes of lightning, so close no rumble is ever heard. The rocks will show no mercy and yet there is still time to turn against the tide and go hard back out to sea. There is little chance of any escape but Neptune* will once again rule unduly upon this land. This land has fort time after time, you may take me and break me, but you'll never take this land.

*Neptune is the Roman God of the sea.

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.

Hold on to the Dream

It's been a busy few weeks. So many thoughts have come and gone, and so many remain unsolved. Stories within stories keep formulating. Seems so much has been going round in circles, but one thing keeps happening time and time again. The same old words 'hold on to the dream', keep reoccurring. Many a time, rather alone, or with just too many people the highs and the lows are formed of each day. Too much company, the right company, you know when you're on to something. Holding on to that thought though seems to be harder everyday, but as always hard work, long days, and a good bond between friends and teams always makes it worth just that little bit more.

Alone, you look back, as Ray Mears has pointed out in an episode in Belarus, an old native motto says whilst you look back and feel the pain, you remember the reasons good and bad and remain blind in one eye. If you don't remember the past, ignoring it, you are blind in both eyes. It's important to remember at least some things, even if it can be grueling on the soul.

It's going to be my Dad's 50th Birthday in May. Without being pessimistic, when I am 50, he will be retired and 77. Suddenly, life seems quite short, so whatever maybe happening it's important to get what you can out of each day, even if it can seem almost pointless sometimes. There is a limit to freedom, happiness and in this vastly busy, electronic driven society, it can seem like it all just fly's by. But look back five or ten years where were you? What were you doing then? Seems even in the darkest of memories of the past something good always comes out. These are the days of our lives. Who will remember, who will be looking our names up for a family tree? When the older generation has gone and we are the old generation, will we have kept the order and family connections together or will we still be on our own?

Hold on to the dream, whatever you want to do, go do it, because time's short. There's nothing like a perfect sunset...