tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57335423951946958962024-03-16T01:11:47.686+00:00HEART OF BALANCEAdventure Culture Spirit Commentheartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.comBlogger424125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-22971825437410405632023-10-15T23:05:00.002+00:002023-10-30T15:21:21.688+00:00CHANGING THE RHETORIC OF MOUNTAIN BIKING<h2 style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #f2f1ee; box-sizing: inherit; color: #1a1c18; font-family: font_condensed, "Arial Narrow", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: calc(32px + (12 * ((100vw - 320px) / 1160))); font-weight: normal; line-height: 1em; margin: 15px 0px 0px; padding: 0px 0px 10px; text-transform: uppercase;">
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I have been a cyclist for some 40 years as an adult. I have never been without a bike or two in my shed, somewhere. That's because I fell in love-literally in love- with cycling. I was living in a one bed flat in St Annes on Sea in Lancashire, having just moved up from Cambridge and obtained a job as a forklift driver in a light engineering factory. This involved a six mile commute each way and I had no car or horse. A bike was the only answer and so I obtained a shiny new Raleigh racing bike from a catalogue and was set to go. The first few weeks were a nightmare as my body was shocked into fitness with muscle groups stretching and strengthening and the heart and lungs enlarging exponentially and then it came: That magical moment when the body and the bike merge into one symbiotic unit that can just keep going over endless miles, accelerate, climb, swerve as necessary and with serotonin flowing through the brain forcing you to just burst into song in order to release the joy. That's how I fell in love with cycling. Through a ten mile daily commute along busy A roads with a brief cycle lane available for a small portion of the distance. And the bike became my single vehicle-if I was invited to friends in Manchester sixty miles away, I cycled. If I wanted a camping weekend in the Lakes I strapped and tied some old tent (Vango Force 10 !!!) and sleeping bag to the bike and cycled. If I had to go over a hundred and fifty miles I'd sleep in some bus shelter to avoid a rainstorm as it never occurred to me, at that point, to wild camp in the woods. Cycling became my single choice of movement. I exchanged my now knackered silver Raleigh (Uther) in 1986 for a shit brown Orbit Horizon tourer (Chokka) which I rode thousands of miles before attaining the glory of a silver grey Dawes Super Galaxy (Miles Eater) in 1992 which, though riding many thousands of miles, I never really warmed to, emotionally. The Dawes was nicked, only fairly recently (curses upon you thief!)</div>
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It was then that I moved to my current mount, technologically at the current apex of bike development- a Scott E-genius Electric Mountain Bike (The Beast) circa 2017. </div>
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I should add that I bought one of the first Mountain bikes to be seen in the UK- a Saracen, painted lime green with thick steel tubes and knobbly tires round 1989 to explore the local moors around Ramsbottom and it became a great mount for my children to ride on as tots on the bike seat. </div>
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No suspension of course but great fun as I recall until it got nicked in December 1995 along with my son's brand new bike which was his Christmas present.</div>
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I should also add that I bought my first Brompton in 1992 from Bicycle Doctor in Manchester, where I also bought my Galaxy. It was a great little tool for short commuting and I even used it briefly in central France for a spot of touring and loved it a lot until it was nicked in 2012 locked up at Preston Park Station in Brighton. My new Brompton is laquer styled frame, six geared (reduced) with a Son hub dynamo, Brooks saddle and snazzy leather Brooks grips. She's a real beauty. Twitchy ride but good for ten-20 miles and with the addition of a waterproof big front bag made by Ortlieb in shocking orange.</div><div>I have always lusted after the mythical Rohloff gearing system, fully enclosed in an oil bath and practically maintenance-free. Up in Glasgow Kinetic Cycles do a Brompton Rohloff conversion, yeah a Rohloff conversion turning the wee toadie into a full blown beast of a touring machine. Throw me in a Gates Carbon drive too could you? Oh and a Son dynamo lighting system!</div><div>Here with credit to the editor of the splendid journal from Bikepacking.com are his excellent thoughts:</div>
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1. CHANGE (THE RHETORIC)</h2>
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As the editor at BIKEPACKING.com, I see a lot of bike related content. After a while, it’s easy to gloss over the prevailing tone of mainstream mountain biking media, social streams and culture. You know, the one where trails aren’t just ridden. They’re ripped, crushed, owned, and shredded. Scenery is supplanted by skids, tail whips and big air. All too often, the image of mountain biking is portrayed as <em style="box-sizing: inherit;">destroying</em> land, not <em style="box-sizing: inherit;">savoring</em> it. <span class="inline-rt" style="box-sizing: inherit;">This overtly aggressive lexicon has also slipped into the words, visual language, culture, clothing, and graphics that define it.</span><span class="inline-rt hl" style="box-sizing: inherit; display: inline-block; float: right; font-family: "vitesse ssm a" , "vitesse ssm b"; font-size: 1.2em; font-style: italic; padding: 20px 0px 16px 20px; text-transform: uppercase; width: 400px;">THIS OVERTLY AGGRESSIVE LEXICON HAS ALSO SLIPPED INTO THE WORDS, VISUAL LANGUAGE, CULTURE, CLOTHING, AND GRAPHICS THAT DEFINE IT.</span> It’s no wonder other land user groups fear us. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate carving fast singletrack just as much as anyone. Mountain bikes are incredible machines and the skillsets that individuals have developed to push them to their limits is amazing. But I also think there is a softer, alternative voice that needs to be heard, nurtured, and grown.</div>
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Fortunately, the rise of bikepacking presents the opportunity to seize a new vernacular. One that offsets aggressive imagery with that focused on stewardship and appreciation. One that places landscapes, cultures, exploration, and solace over hits and berms. The language of bikepacking, both literal and visual, hinges on words like ‘remote’, ‘access’, ‘wander’, and ‘backcountry’. Visuals that tell a story that goes beyond outright speed and technical mastery. We see this as an extremely positive message, especially in the face of worldwide land access issues. With the right educational information around ethics and advocacy, we believe in the value of encouraging the growth of this alternative perception of mountain biking.</div>
heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-18977655648546259762023-10-15T23:03:00.001+00:002023-10-16T08:11:37.086+00:00DOES RELIGION DRIVE MEN MAD?<p style="text-indent: 18px;"> <span style="font-family: Palatino;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">THE IMPLACABLE NATURE OF THE IDEA</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px; text-indent: 18px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 18px;">I<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>observe, as many do, the unfolding disaster in Gaza and thoughts emerge unbidden in my mind.</p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 18px;">I wonder about countries and religion and how so often these modes of supposed salvation drive men and women into vortices of complete madness leading to unthinkable cruelty and barbarism.</p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 18px;">How human men (and they are mostly men) will murder children, rape women and torture their fellow humans with gleeful commitment, even enthusiasm for inflicting the maximum level of pain and humiliation.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 18px;">How is all this possible?</p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 18px;">My answer is expressed with all humility as these are simply my thoughts, those motes of dust in the wind.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>But I strive for some anchor for the immense pain I feel in my heart upon watching this unfolding cataclysm of hatred and horror in the Middle East.</p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 18px;">My sense is that this all begins in the mind.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>That what we witness here is a result of thoughts and imagination replacing reality.</p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 18px;">Let us take a comparison.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Look at what we call countries.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Do they exist?<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Well yes, we consider we come from a particular country. When we are asked the question where are you from we will often reply, well I'm from the UK or I am from South Africa or I am from Brazil or I am an Israeli or I am a Palestinian.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-indent: 18px;">In this sense our country of birth or a new nationality we have taken on becomes a large part of what we may refer to as our identity, it describes part of what we perceive as our essential Self, our being.</p><p class="p3" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;">Then we may be asked by this imaginary interviewer-What are you about?<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>What do you believe?<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>And often, what do you do?</p><p class="p4" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;">But let’s pause a moment at the question of our country.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>What is a country?<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Is it not simply an idea?</p><p class="p4" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;">There are no real lines of demarcation in nature that determines what group of Homo sapiens will live in a specific area. Those borders are creat<span class="s1">ed inside someone’s head and often collide with other ideas of conquest, war, colonisation and economic expansion.</span></p><p class="p3" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;">These ideas collect behind the original idea of ‘country’ and what is an imaginary reality becomes more real than the actual reality. An endless train of countless carriages hurtling on its way to another constructed idealised reality.</p><p class="p3" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;">Because the fact is that countries do not exist in actual reality. In many ways they are fictionalised entities that are concretised in imaginary nature but they cannot exist in nature because they are not real.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>They are ideas.</p><p class="p3" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;">If we imagine the human species were to instantly vanish what would be left?<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Well there would be buildings, temples, prisons, immense cities, ports, lots of walls and fences, military bases and seaside resorts.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>But there would be no countries.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Because countries do not exist in independent reality.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>They are ideas of place rather than place itself.</p><p class="p3" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;">If we look at a mountain, say Kilimanjaro, we can see that it exists in nature.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It is an existential fact that is not dependent on thoughts or belief systems for its being a concrete part of nature.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Unlike countries, which only truly exist in the minds of their inhabitants and therefore have no concrete existence in nature.</p><p class="p3" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;">Is it not the saddest thing that what drives the great wars and slaughters is simply an idea? <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p3" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;">Perhaps we should get rid of this idea and simply live on our planet?</p><p class="p3" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;">Religion too is perhaps the most powerful of these ideas based as it is on the single strongest driver of division between humans - the idea of God. And then inevitable meditations upon the nature of this God.</p><p class="p3" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;">Whether it be called Jesus or Jehovah or Allah or the Lord Buddha or the Creator, or Shiva, these are all versions of the same idea.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>An imaginary Being that requires a set of rules and beliefs and behaviour to be placated or worshipped or honoured.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Rules that can be infringed with resulting punishments.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Highly varied schema of intolerance is directed between these different ideas and it underpins the continuing holocaust between humans located in their various idealised territories that we call countries.</p><p class="p3" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;">I will nail my own colours to the mast.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I do not know if there is a God.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I choose not to believe that there is because I choose not to believe in something I cannot understand.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>If God has existence it would surpass our understanding containing within itself all meaning.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p3" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;">In the seventeenth century Spinoza made the case that God must be part of natural law and that therefore miracles cannot have taken place because they are in defiance of natural law and that consequently the Bible must be taken as metaphor, not fact.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He also stated that this God acting in accord with natural law, with Nature, is highly unlikely to require strictly determined rules of behaviour or ceremonial activity or specific dress as these are simply ideas from the imagination of humans.</p><p class="p3" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;">Spinoza’s ethics, massively simplified, state that humans should live in accordance with natural law and thus acquire what he called ‘blessedness’.</p><p class="p3" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;">I can live with this ‘idea’, it makes sense to me to seek ‘blessedness’ though I struggle with the acquisition.</p><p class="p3" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;">However given my own ‘ideas’ on the subject I am most content to allow my fellow humans to worship and pray to whatever God they imagine and I wish them comfort from it.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I do not however consider this gives them any right to predate and destroy and discriminate on those who interpret this most ungraspable of notions in a different way from themselves.</p><p class="p3" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;">I was brought up in the Roman Catholic Faith and even attended a Seminary as a boy, destined for the Priesthood, when, as a devastated 14 year old I came to the realisation<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>that this was all nonsense upon stilts.</p><p class="p3" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;">Perhaps then we should get rid of both ideas.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>That of Nations and that of Religions.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Perhaps we should just be in the world.</p><p class="p3" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;">None of this helps the men, women and children of Gaza facing annihilation or the avenging Israeli’s who have lost their loved one’s in Hamas’s shocking assault.</p><p class="p3" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;">But like many others I stand mute in the face of this unfolding catastrophe.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I stand mute, looking at the cold, hard and vengeful eyes of the leaders and the blood of the innocent which will once again flow into the river of human time and the circle of hate growing, ever growing.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Once again I stand mute and uncomprehending at the implacable nature of The Idea.</p><p class="p5" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;"><br /></p><p class="p5" style="font-family: Palatino; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 18px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 24px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;"><br /></p>heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-7197690827078204042023-06-18T08:52:00.000+00:002023-06-18T08:52:06.323+00:00THE GREAT CORMAC McCARTHY PASSES 16TH JUNE 2023heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-11153940536565176712023-03-26T15:12:00.000+00:002023-03-26T15:12:46.195+00:00ME AND BOB DYLAN<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Me ’n Bob Dylan. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Me’n Bob Dylan first got together in 1975. We met through an intermediary, a tiny, moustachioed Geordie accountant called Ken with the features of a vertically challenged Apache who had been thrown in the hot wash, warrior-hook nose, high cheekbones and imperious and coldly mysterious mien, crowned with a shock of jet black hair. He did not carry a tomahawk. Ken was the first proper Bobcat I had met and such relationships lead to an almost continual exposure to Bobness of all kinds. A kind of cultish indoctrination but with a large joint maybe substituting for the waterboarding bits and a chilled setting where the Bobcat endlessly spins his (sometimes hers but not too commonly) carefully curated vinyl discs of Bob’s truth-strummings . Bobcats seem to be obsessive collectors and, for many of them the vinyl revival was immaterial as they will just keep on keeping on, till the wheels fall off and burn, as it were.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Ken however did have one early recognised substantial problem. He appeared to suffer from significant alcohol induced psychosis. After only three pints the wiry little Geordie would up and target a likely victim or group of victims, it mattered not how many, how big or how tall. And he would proceed to scare them shitless. I will always remember him confronting a group of hairy bikers enjoying an innocent pint in a Blackpool pub and offering them all outside where he was going to ‘fook the lot of yoo fooking bastards’. The bikers who had been sprawled across their table like a tribe of vikings out for rape and plunder, meekly gathered their helmets and left, looking back at him fearfully.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I explained to Ken patiently, for the umpteenth time, that I could not tolerate his continual transformation into a psychopathic bully after consuming miniscule amounts of alcohol. I told him that scaring people was wrong and the clincher, I told him Bob would never approve of such behaviour.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We had a row. He offered me outside for a fooking. Upon the instant of the fight, He punched a metal bin hard enough to break his knuckles and truth be told I never actually saw him fight anyone. It was all to do with the threat of a fight, with the fear arising from his violent presentation. I went off in a huff. He chased after me and begged, literally begged me, to return with him to his house claiming his wife would never understand if I didn’t go back with him. Despite my better judgement I went back and as I mused upon the surreal night’s happenings he put ‘Blood on the Tracks’ on and I finally understood, listening to that album for maybe the tenth time, what all the fuss was about. All my heart’s pain came welling up. All the loss. All the missed chances. But hell! We’re only sitting around listening to music. Why are we all sinking into maudlin musings, suicidal ideation and holding back the tears as well as the night? That’s Bob for you. He’ll sucker punch you in a minute. ‘Tell her she can look me up…If she’s got the time…’ Nobody can kick you in the guts so snarlingly, so caringly, so duplicitously, so poetically. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Typically, as a scaredy-cat kind of a guy, I went back to the beginning of the work, so as not to miss anything, not the total beginning but just to ‘Freewheelin Bob Dylan’ with the picture of Bobby and Suze crunching through the New York snow, over the graves of countless dead Indians. Cute.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">But it wasn’t really what I was up for. ‘Girl from the North Country’ is a pretty song for sure but it didn’t measure up to the ‘Blood on the Tracks’ pain and rage. I moved quickly on to ‘Another Side of Bob Dylan’ with Bob in Guthrie-style workshirt and ‘Grapes of Wrath’ style ‘seen-it-all-eyes’ on the cover. Bob, who’s never jumped a train or done a days physical labour, slaving in the burning sun of a Californian fruit pickin’ farm with his Mexican compadres, in his life, staring out at you like he’s definitely bound for glory. But ‘Chimes of Freedom’ is a great song, and it speaks of an ability to feel the pain and transmit it with enormous empathic resonance. ‘Times they are a changin’? Well I’ve always thought it was a shit song man! Get out of the way! Hells-a-comin’ to breakfast sort of vibe.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">So I moved on to ‘Bringing it all back home’ and that was it. I touched the raging wellspring of genius from which I recognised the eruption of ‘Blood on the tracks’ and my mind was well and truly blown. Did ’Subterranean Homesick Blues’ predict rap? Like many young lost souls I knew without doubt that I was down with Johnny in the basement watching him mix it up.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">In 1974 I opened an Open Air concert in the amphitheatre in Stanley Park in Blackpool (yes yes, I know!) and sang, solo, ‘It’s alright Ma, I’m only bleeding.’ I must have been crazy but I learned that a guitar in your hand is a major attractor to the female sex. Thanks for that Bob! Thanks for all that pain! Thanks for nuthin’ Bobby!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I spent hours listening to the album on repeat play and allowing it’s chaotic rhymes and antsy visionary images to wash over me, turning me into a tiny Bob-figurine. I changed my hair to duplicate Bob’s mop, got a leather jacket and obtained a new nose from somewhere. I began to smoke incessantly and even slept wearing my Raybans.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Then I encountered the inevitability of ‘Highway 61 Revisited.’</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The miracle of ‘Like a Rolling Stone’ described so memorably by Bruce Springsteen as the first hit of the snare drum being like the sound of the door of your mind being kicked open.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">This album changed the way I thought about music. It changed me. It alerted me to the magical marriage of snarly poetry and rasping guitar. It got me loving the organ. Whoever would have invested so much in a whining harmonica? It taught me the meaning of resistance through poetry and song. Like all the great texts it educated me. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Because I too was in the kitchen with the Tombstone Blues. I too was checking out suitable properties on Desolation Row. I was obsessed with the wee speed-addled chappie. I was in love with Bob’s rage. I had become a Bobcat.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Fast forward with me to Earl’s Court 1983 and I’m staring at the thousands of clean looking Christians holding their lit lighters aloft and occasionally shouting ‘Praise the Lord!’ or ‘Hallelujah!’ To return to my spinster analogy I regarded them with the curiosity of someone attending a fancy dress party where a particular few are naked. What exactly are these people doing here I thought.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Bob’s up there on stage looking a tad chunkier than I thought he should. And he looks a bit pissed off. A bit miserable. It’s the Shot of Love Tour and I’m encountering the last ebbs and flows of Bob’s born-again conversion.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Jesus had personally spoken to him, of course he had, who else would he speak to on this bereft planet apart from Bob and maybe the Dalai Lama? But Bob was getting bored-you could tell that.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">With a wave of his hand and a snarl, he sends the Band off and returns alone with his acoustic guitar and harmonica.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Here’s his set list for the night-(A Tammy Wynette cover!!!!)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Gotta Serve Somebody</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I Believe in You</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Like a Rolling Stone</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">'Til I Get It Right (Tammy Wynette cover)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Man Gave Names to All the Animals</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Maggie's Farm</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Simple Twist of Fate</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Ballad of a Thin Man</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Girl From the North Country</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Dead Man, Dead Man</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Slow Train</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Abraham, Martin and John (Dion cover)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Slow Train</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">In the Summertime</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Mr. Tambourine Man</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Solid Rock</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Just Like a Woman</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Watered-Down Love</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">What Can I Do for You?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">All Along the Watchtower</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Lenny Bruce</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">When You Gonna Wake Up?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">In the Garden</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Blowin' in the Wind</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Don't Think Twice, It's All Right</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Knockin' on Heaven's Door </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">That’s not a bad little menu for a Bobcat! But for me it proved to be a temporary Swansong and we were to part for many years.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The Christianity killed off my mad enthusiasm and with the death of John Lennon I went off with The Beatles and Miles Davis and Stockhausen to another party. I still flirted with Bob though, like old friends whose paths have diverted in the wood but who remain in touch for birthdays, weddings and funerals.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Then, years later I got hold of ‘Time out of Mind’ slapped it on my playlist, listened to it about twenty times and Bam! There I was once again hit by these amazing lyrics, and this great tight band. TOOM was released in 1982 but I collided with it in 2018 and here I remain, a returnee to the fold, having just purchased the Mobile Fidelity vinyl Ultrasound recording of ‘Blood on the tracks’ for zillions of pounds and wow, but its mean tragedy drills deeper than ever. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">November 2022- And here comes ‘Rough and Rowdy Ways’ with it’s 17 minute clincher track</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">1983 fast forwards to 2022. The gig at Manchester Apollo. The tickets are scammed online with massively inflated prices with viagogo. The t shirts at £30 each. Bob behind his piano. A bit doddery but in fine voice with amazing interpretations of 'I contain multitudes' and especially a wonderful reinterpretation of ‘it’s all over now Baby Blue .’</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I am struck initially by the hordes of Mancunians filling the theatre carrying giant 2 pint plastic glasses and I sit there prune faced and tight lipped like a disapproving spinster invited to an orgy. They’ll be pissing all through the gig I say spitefully to my wife, Millie who tell’s me to chill the fuck out. Bob and his band emerge out of darkness onto the stage. Is it him? Where is he? Oh he’s there in his sparkly jacket. Yes its him! I can just make out his head behind that piano bobbing up and down like a sniper’s invitation-'they shot him down like a dog' he later drawls.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Dylan's band were:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Tony Garnier – bass.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Charley Drayton – drums.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Bob Britt – guitar.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Doug Lancio – guitar.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Donnie Herron – violin, electric mandolin, pedal steel, lap steel.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">And yes, those two pint plastic glass-slurping fuckers were pissing though the entire gig!</div></div><br /><p></p>heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-11636488178287929872022-10-23T09:30:00.006+00:002022-10-23T09:30:56.393+00:00<p> </p><table align="center" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="background-color: white; border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; word-break: break-word;"><tbody><tr><td align="left" style="border-collapse: collapse; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 28px;" valign="top"><div style="color: #e15718; font-family: lato, "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 24px; font-weight: 600; line-height: 28px; margin: 0px;">I saw this recently on the 'Recommendo' newsletter. It looks like a good set of questions.</div><div style="color: #e15718; font-family: lato, "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 24px; font-weight: 600; line-height: 28px; margin: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="color: #e15718; font-family: lato, "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 24px; font-weight: 600; line-height: 28px; margin: 0px;">Twitter thread of self-fulfillment questions</div></td></tr><tr><td align="left" style="border-collapse: collapse; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 42px;" valign="top"><div style="font-family: lato, "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 28px; margin: 0px;"><div class="m_-6704235085908309134revue-p" style="margin: 0px;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://u16247907.ct.sendgrid.net/ls/click?upn%3Dxj1XNWNXAKn3NbTpbjHoPlWDrtmNLn0DOgU9oH4noi-2BlHJKrvtl7E08IaT-2F9zQTd020Mip9Zb3v9psMf5d0CnHS36Emd1T6DmZwZue-2F56nHp-2FtmK4d5674gIN2yKHFXLpZ96VBZsjGc4ycXigDDnL9LKkWm5fyLq4mtsgDAZKTVjmkTbDhbJlZmBo6hez6H4h4RJ_YPInUlyxkreF958snNjuAr6AJZ-2B-2F108kQzMCa8mB-2FEJWIrIbtgZsYFPwcAjF-2B2NLaGzMvamOAB-2B3I8akokTkRnyht0owf6yY0TYrhX-2FEbDeNxHN02dG-2BmO2UBo8W4wtjLWCciF5PQtPm-2FFk3VLjBswGNjNdZJW9ZxKseMfi-2BDNncg9-2Bl8GikMnJbm-2BZhE61pvFQoesqdD4YSasozES9HL6avGb8cMCxWJX1q2xsShumo4bCIDkQYY2230yJEq7PeGaL-2BAx-2FmmugEl488xWCTnshtkJY9vHlYPei1g3v3OUobtYm3uAfrEu2tP0LF8F7LmsoovFXliEDNbyk5yV1MPHUevN4l3bKUIPVObPhNXMpaMpTjK03S0MFQ7Ztjf-2FcNqdGLXS3LTuwlRuf1r2i9-2FvFuQJdnQQlb8r0dV-2BPTgVg-3D&source=gmail&ust=1666602664674000&usg=AOvVaw1lJUqn_dqqnit5tnoqm-P3" href="https://u16247907.ct.sendgrid.net/ls/click?upn=xj1XNWNXAKn3NbTpbjHoPlWDrtmNLn0DOgU9oH4noi-2BlHJKrvtl7E08IaT-2F9zQTd020Mip9Zb3v9psMf5d0CnHS36Emd1T6DmZwZue-2F56nHp-2FtmK4d5674gIN2yKHFXLpZ96VBZsjGc4ycXigDDnL9LKkWm5fyLq4mtsgDAZKTVjmkTbDhbJlZmBo6hez6H4h4RJ_YPInUlyxkreF958snNjuAr6AJZ-2B-2F108kQzMCa8mB-2FEJWIrIbtgZsYFPwcAjF-2B2NLaGzMvamOAB-2B3I8akokTkRnyht0owf6yY0TYrhX-2FEbDeNxHN02dG-2BmO2UBo8W4wtjLWCciF5PQtPm-2FFk3VLjBswGNjNdZJW9ZxKseMfi-2BDNncg9-2Bl8GikMnJbm-2BZhE61pvFQoesqdD4YSasozES9HL6avGb8cMCxWJX1q2xsShumo4bCIDkQYY2230yJEq7PeGaL-2BAx-2FmmugEl488xWCTnshtkJY9vHlYPei1g3v3OUobtYm3uAfrEu2tP0LF8F7LmsoovFXliEDNbyk5yV1MPHUevN4l3bKUIPVObPhNXMpaMpTjK03S0MFQ7Ztjf-2FcNqdGLXS3LTuwlRuf1r2i9-2FvFuQJdnQQlb8r0dV-2BPTgVg-3D" style="color: #3498db;" target="_blank">Greg Isenberg</a> says he asked 1 billionaire, 1 PHD math professor and 1 99-year-old man what self-reflection questions they asked themselves and then he <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://u16247907.ct.sendgrid.net/ls/click?upn%3Dxj1XNWNXAKn3NbTpbjHoPlWDrtmNLn0DOgU9oH4noi-2F7mkAKrZ1lujcAsWGC64Ad-2BwaK9rkasP2D-2FhgZTOUpzOMnBEmJQo629H-2F10O8hKGVFoIFiaakoI3kCyPq6E47SsR9-2FSwZWH9WQrGqH0ORcEtixlFonLA0f3fnxeGeCt6ewfamLFp8uUi9ZnlLgX24VlMtgy84kv4lZzYD6OgPRGi-2BL0jyowjEHK4UfepYQt4I-3DRmM4_YPInUlyxkreF958snNjuAr6AJZ-2B-2F108kQzMCa8mB-2FEJWIrIbtgZsYFPwcAjF-2B2NLaGzMvamOAB-2B3I8akokTkRnyht0owf6yY0TYrhX-2FEbDeNxHN02dG-2BmO2UBo8W4wtjLWCciF5PQtPm-2FFk3VLjBswGNjNdZJW9ZxKseMfi-2BDNncg9-2Bl8GikMnJbm-2BZhE61pvFQoesqdD4YSasozES9HL6avGb8cMCxWJX1q2xsShumo4bCIDkQYY2230yJEq7PeGaL-2BAx-2FmmugEl488xWCTnrLUXzi7cTPoLdWx9MoHP-2FRNOBLGZJVyPMpBvPyuybfJqe2By4MyZfBWbL4COTuARsr-2FwTP0P78OktqnGZigMnIzvTBFpcfnhZ6Q49RUgVvzqgXyQyIkH9H-2FclcfNefen4rUEx9z0MmrLkWqprMHuP4-3D&source=gmail&ust=1666602664674000&usg=AOvVaw2mQhjn68xzlgSGT3IMgvdC" href="https://u16247907.ct.sendgrid.net/ls/click?upn=xj1XNWNXAKn3NbTpbjHoPlWDrtmNLn0DOgU9oH4noi-2F7mkAKrZ1lujcAsWGC64Ad-2BwaK9rkasP2D-2FhgZTOUpzOMnBEmJQo629H-2F10O8hKGVFoIFiaakoI3kCyPq6E47SsR9-2FSwZWH9WQrGqH0ORcEtixlFonLA0f3fnxeGeCt6ewfamLFp8uUi9ZnlLgX24VlMtgy84kv4lZzYD6OgPRGi-2BL0jyowjEHK4UfepYQt4I-3DRmM4_YPInUlyxkreF958snNjuAr6AJZ-2B-2F108kQzMCa8mB-2FEJWIrIbtgZsYFPwcAjF-2B2NLaGzMvamOAB-2B3I8akokTkRnyht0owf6yY0TYrhX-2FEbDeNxHN02dG-2BmO2UBo8W4wtjLWCciF5PQtPm-2FFk3VLjBswGNjNdZJW9ZxKseMfi-2BDNncg9-2Bl8GikMnJbm-2BZhE61pvFQoesqdD4YSasozES9HL6avGb8cMCxWJX1q2xsShumo4bCIDkQYY2230yJEq7PeGaL-2BAx-2FmmugEl488xWCTnrLUXzi7cTPoLdWx9MoHP-2FRNOBLGZJVyPMpBvPyuybfJqe2By4MyZfBWbL4COTuARsr-2FwTP0P78OktqnGZigMnIzvTBFpcfnhZ6Q49RUgVvzqgXyQyIkH9H-2FclcfNefen4rUEx9z0MmrLkWqprMHuP4-3D" style="color: #3498db;" target="_blank">shared them in a Twitter thread</a>, as a list of questions to make you feel more fulfilled in life, love & career. The ones I’m pondering are:</div><ul><li style="margin: 0px;">What is it that I can think of, read, watch, listen and talk about for hours on end without tiring of it?</li><li style="margin: 0px;">What would this look like if it was fun?</li><li style="margin: 0px;">How do I want my life to be different in one year?</li></ul></div></td></tr></tbody></table>heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-5280238593099157262022-10-01T12:48:00.006+00:002022-10-01T12:51:38.286+00:00The Irresistible Rise of Helen DeWitt-Currently this Blog's favourite author!<p> 'Lightning Rods'. Published 2011. Started 16.8.22-Finished 31.8.22</p><p>Thoughts? Beautifully written. Remarkably funny. Huge degree of intelligence on the part of the writer. Could not recommend this enough! Sadly this couldn't have been written by a man these days.</p><p>The mechanism for preventing sexual harassment suits against male workers in corporations is given full expression. My favourite novel of 2022 until, that is, I started reading 'The Last Samurai' - More to follow on that.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZQwLMEmYDx8WwxzX68dwsqyuwV0ODJfzeQUImcShrkUGcCD65dG7BLTv6p3O51rqNmZrWo98ms9U8IEa3Lmou8aHPBxMZhWG83vj9nLWN9S5YkrhPou6zHDHaZvnOJPY9jq7gKirp8I7Z7H67o15yrF6Sp2qDbhjO8kYT-AT2YrvlPjFvWlIMRphh" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="327" data-original-width="327" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgZQwLMEmYDx8WwxzX68dwsqyuwV0ODJfzeQUImcShrkUGcCD65dG7BLTv6p3O51rqNmZrWo98ms9U8IEa3Lmou8aHPBxMZhWG83vj9nLWN9S5YkrhPou6zHDHaZvnOJPY9jq7gKirp8I7Z7H67o15yrF6Sp2qDbhjO8kYT-AT2YrvlPjFvWlIMRphh" width="240" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p>heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-38920747157595777642022-10-01T12:35:00.000+00:002022-10-01T12:35:30.583+00:00A Polemic on the current practice of Social Work with Children and Families<p><b>The primary object of social work is to create a society where it has no need to exist. </b></p><p>Right away we are approaching a battle. A battle against systems that would deliberately create a dedicated organisation where a specific type of activity which we may call surveillance social work is brought to bear upon the poor. Surveillance /measurement/ Secret monitoring/ Professional Cabals/ </p><p>A mean spirited social work that fully participates in the poverty and inequality and discrimination against those who may be poor while paying for families to live in overcrowded and filthy accommodation, children to be abandoned to private social work provisions lacking any sense of obligation and service to anything other than profit. (WELL CLEARLY I’M GOING TO GET LOTS OF MY CHEST!)</p><p><br /></p><p>The primary object of current social work however, appears to be to engage in a project of technical bureaucratic intervention in a society that invades every aspect of the lives of the poor, most particularly by a creeping intervention in family life, without reference to the capacity for transformation and, even if such transformation were positively acknowledged, without the resources or skills to accomplish it in any meaningful sense.</p><p>In this project that I shall call neo-liberal welfarism, the social workers are joined in their interventions by the various tribes of the welfarist universe, united by this project of child protection under the disguise of soft policing by chronic programmes of endless assessment, innumerable meetings, diagnostic determinations, psychological categorisations and psychiatric considerations, various cabals of professionals-only discourse, and endless judgement and measurement. Labels of all kind abound with all manner of evidential weight attached. All underpinned by a legal system chronically obsessed with process and timescales over potential and possibilities and legislation often enacted in fear of further tragedy rather than in hope of better outcomes, with all the practice implications that are embodied in fear of failure, and public excoriation in the hallowed and considered prose of the gutter journalists who delight in the character assassination and moral dismemberment of all social workers unfortunate enough to be involved in the tragedy of the death of a child at the hands of his or her parents.</p><p>And so we proceed, marking our milestones by the death of the innocents and 'drawing conclusions on the wall.' We must be risk averse, ever watchful, we must record every detail, we must act before disaster strikes. We must establish modes of ruthless surveillance. And as the gutter press so gleefully command, we must stop these evil monsters bent on murdering children, in their tracks. We must be relentless and give them the damnation they so richly deserve. </p><div><br /></div>heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-39901783704966867312022-03-05T13:00:00.006+00:002022-07-16T07:04:33.814+00:00WALTER REDFERN ON PUNS/PICTURESQUE TOUR OF THE ENGLISH LAKES/THE RUSSIAN INVASION OF UKRAINE<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgpXW6PMjKDezrG_MhhOPBA0VUamFkcvjNqy2GdKLYslfTKa7o7R9LM_uxJoKVK6NZ6zMLEjG_16KQLeSyYKiQ17fsWVusunNtCSKuv7N5IwrJTMUIGoHvD0Cz4dwCIVeCTRTjXmAOJ9W1j5UAm1opY7-k7esLQk0PTiYM4Xz-cG6fMJwlK032fpAWy" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img alt="" data-original-height="328" data-original-width="1274" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgpXW6PMjKDezrG_MhhOPBA0VUamFkcvjNqy2GdKLYslfTKa7o7R9LM_uxJoKVK6NZ6zMLEjG_16KQLeSyYKiQ17fsWVusunNtCSKuv7N5IwrJTMUIGoHvD0Cz4dwCIVeCTRTjXmAOJ9W1j5UAm1opY7-k7esLQk0PTiYM4Xz-cG6fMJwlK032fpAWy=w640-h200" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh2YiGPesFgivqS8xB9fFyKUK-9egGPMeCosWVtmYVr4U9nv1OIDqqh1-AIIYJvpXiP6Dvi-IzqLAHro9YlSDyzAnQWme2-5YGP5XBtOog0UYd2j2fJX0t38ujS6bYMYByyFktABZTqS5AyP-jT-1rhntdtKcGhvXIgM6QuYTfBYRJlQwx2Jk8dhu_w=s896" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="591" data-original-width="896" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh2YiGPesFgivqS8xB9fFyKUK-9egGPMeCosWVtmYVr4U9nv1OIDqqh1-AIIYJvpXiP6Dvi-IzqLAHro9YlSDyzAnQWme2-5YGP5XBtOog0UYd2j2fJX0t38ujS6bYMYByyFktABZTqS5AyP-jT-1rhntdtKcGhvXIgM6QuYTfBYRJlQwx2Jk8dhu_w=w640-h422" width="640" /></a></div>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">RESISTANCE. BY SIMON ARMITAGE</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">It’s war again: a family<br />
carries its family out of a pranged house<br />
under a burning thatch.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">The next scene smacks<br />
of archive newsreel: platforms and trains<br />
(never again, never again),</p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">toddlers passed<br />
over heads and shoulders, lifetimes stowed<br />
in luggage racks.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">It’s war again: unmistakable smoke<br />
on the near horizon mistaken<br />
for thick fog. Fingers crossed.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">An old blue tractor<br />
tows an armoured tank<br />
into no-man’s land.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">It’s the ceasefire hour: godspeed the columns<br />
of winter coats and fur-lined hoods,<br />
the high-wire walk</p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">over buckled bridges<br />
managing cases and bags,<br />
balancing west and east - godspeed.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">It’s war again: the woman in black<br />
gives sunflower seeds to the soldier, insists<br />
his marrow will nourish</p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">the national flower. In dreams<br />
let bullets be birds, let cluster bombs<br />
burst into flocks.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">False news is news<br />
with the pity<br />
edited out. It’s war again:</p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">an air-raid siren can’t fully mute<br />
the cathedral bells -<br />
let’s call that hope.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i>Simon Armitage</i></p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i><br /></i></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px;">Simon Armitage's (Our Poet Laureate in the UK) Poem is hearfelt and so moving. The prospect of a </i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue; font-size: x-small;"><i>war at</i></span><i style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px;"> the </i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue; font-size: x-small;"><i>near</i></span><i style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px;"> end of the first quarter of the 21st Century is </i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue; font-size: x-small;"><i>almost</i></span><i style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px;"> </i></b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>unbelievable. My own view is that it matters little to bullies that you stand looking on their crimes wringing your hands and decrying the outrage of it. Bullies, psychopaths and murderers only understand a response as forceful as theirs or greater. Then they often seem to disappear as if they only existed as a result of our fear of them, which may, in fact be the case.</i></b></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue; font-size: x-small;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>The open-hearted response of the British to the assistance of Ukrainian refugees is to be honoured. However I am puzzled about the country's warm response to the Ukrainians compared to the hostile environment and unwelcome meted out to Syrians, Latino's and Africans. Could it possibly be that the Ukrainians are white "like us" and not brown, black and yellow people and therefore "not us but other?"</i></b></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>That would of course mean that the broken bodies of Africans and middle eastern peoples are worth less, that their lives have less meaning. How could it be possible that such poisonous racism could have taken root in the hearts of the Brits?</i></b></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>Of course our black, brown and yellow brothers and sisters have known that for some time.</i></b></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue; font-size: x-small;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>So we must remember these Iliads are woven in the crook'd dreams of the hollow men and will always be, until our consciousness develops to the elementary point that such monstrosities become unthinkable, even unimaginable. As a species we are not there yet! Not by a long way!</i></b></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue; font-size: x-small;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>May your God go with you and may all our Gods preserve and support the brave Ukrainians in their hour of War. Love and Will. In balance.</i></b></span></p><p></p>heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-63507013002681075152022-01-17T08:13:00.002+00:002022-01-17T08:13:45.797+00:00A library the internet can’t get enough of!<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin: 0px auto; max-width: 600px; width: 542px;"><table cellpadding="0" style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 100%px;"><tbody><tr><td align="left" style="border-collapse: collapse; margin: 0px;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border-collapse: collapse; border-spacing: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; padding: 0px; width: 100%px;"><tbody><tr><td align="center" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 12px; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-top: 3px; text-align: center; width: 542px;" width="100%"><span class="m_7840810099678381022css-bcxqfb" style="display: inline-block; max-width: 500px; text-align: right; width: 449.85px;"><span style="color: #888888; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; letter-spacing: 0.01em; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; padding-left: 0px;"></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhQoSBMP6DY3Ek-1zmiawTG9NiNU6GOtdKplE7aKM477XvxojsNIjVJ8xY1sJd-kFG-fpH4nghJY4is4uBOLv0P1fN-IOqlw4g3JDwauB2p3mY_uRvk0Bj7Yt-qNgnK3_ZPFN1RfBRkXWMXFSG9SYxyw9Lx2p0IM3RxyVIH0oRc-SWSeOZKiT52l6fU=s600" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="399" data-original-width="600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhQoSBMP6DY3Ek-1zmiawTG9NiNU6GOtdKplE7aKM477XvxojsNIjVJ8xY1sJd-kFG-fpH4nghJY4is4uBOLv0P1fN-IOqlw4g3JDwauB2p3mY_uRvk0Bj7Yt-qNgnK3_ZPFN1RfBRkXWMXFSG9SYxyw9Lx2p0IM3RxyVIH0oRc-SWSeOZKiT52l6fU=w640-h426" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin: 0px auto; max-width: 600px; width: 542px;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin: 0px auto; max-width: 600px; width: 542px;"><table cellpadding="0" style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 100%px;"><tbody><tr><td align="left" style="border-collapse: collapse; margin: 0px;"><p style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 25px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Every year or so, the library in the photograph above — with stacks of books piled high and buttery lamplight aglow — resurfaces on the internet. It is often (erroneously) attributed to the author Umberto Eco, or said to be in Italy or Prague.</p></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin: 0px auto; max-width: 600px; width: 542px;"><table cellpadding="0" style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 100%px;"><tbody><tr><td align="left" style="border-collapse: collapse; margin: 0px;"><p style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 25px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">In fact, <a class="m_7840810099678381022css-5nb5nb" data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://nl.nytimes.com/f/newsletter/UmH-9gMGcxUYEhIzoSJmJA~~/AAAAAQA~/RgRjx4seP0TzaHR0cHM6Ly93d3cubnl0aW1lcy5jb20vMjAyMi8wMS8xNS9zdHlsZS9yaWNoYXJkLW1hY2tzZXktbGlicmFyeS5odG1sP2NhbXBhaWduX2lkPTUxJmVtYz1lZGl0X21iZV8yMDIyMDExNyZpbnN0YW5jZV9pZD01MDUzMiZubD1tb3JuaW5nLWJyaWVmaW5nJTNBLWV1cm9wZS1lZGl0aW9uJnJlZ2lfaWQ9MTA2MDExMzE4JnNlZ21lbnRfaWQ9Nzk5MjMmdGU9MSZ1c2VyX2lkPTU5MDQ2NjcyMWNmZjFkOWI3ZTBmYTBiY2RlNzBiYjBlVwNueXRCCmHfHgblYSHOM_FSGGhlYXJ0b2ZiYWxhbmNlQGdtYWlsLmNvbVgEAAAAAA~~&source=gmail&ust=1642493231223000&usg=AOvVaw0KQtPx0fI8R3ikVO8Z6DXO" href="https://nl.nytimes.com/f/newsletter/UmH-9gMGcxUYEhIzoSJmJA~~/AAAAAQA~/RgRjx4seP0TzaHR0cHM6Ly93d3cubnl0aW1lcy5jb20vMjAyMi8wMS8xNS9zdHlsZS9yaWNoYXJkLW1hY2tzZXktbGlicmFyeS5odG1sP2NhbXBhaWduX2lkPTUxJmVtYz1lZGl0X21iZV8yMDIyMDExNyZpbnN0YW5jZV9pZD01MDUzMiZubD1tb3JuaW5nLWJyaWVmaW5nJTNBLWV1cm9wZS1lZGl0aW9uJnJlZ2lfaWQ9MTA2MDExMzE4JnNlZ21lbnRfaWQ9Nzk5MjMmdGU9MSZ1c2VyX2lkPTU5MDQ2NjcyMWNmZjFkOWI3ZTBmYTBiY2RlNzBiYjBlVwNueXRCCmHfHgblYSHOM_FSGGhlYXJ0b2ZiYWxhbmNlQGdtYWlsLmNvbVgEAAAAAA~~" style="color: #286ed0; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit;" target="_blank">Kate Dwyer reports for The Times</a>, the library is not in Europe. It doesn’t even exist anymore. But when it did, it was the home library of the Johns Hopkins professor Dr. Richard Macksey — a book collector, polyglot and scholar of comparative literature. His book collection clocked in at 51,000 titles, some 35,000 of which eventually made their way into the university’s libraries.</p></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin: 0px auto; max-width: 600px; width: 542px;"><table cellpadding="0" style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 100%px;"><tbody><tr><td align="left" style="border-collapse: collapse; margin: 0px;"><p style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 25px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">Why do people love this image so much? Don Winslow, the author and political activist, who recently posted a photograph of the library on Twitter, said it was “as stunning as a sunset.” Ingrid Fetell Lee, the author of the blog the Aesthetics of Joy, pointed at the photo’s sense of plenitude: “There’s something about the sensorial abundance of seeing lots of something that gives us a little thrill,” she said.</p></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; margin: 0px auto; max-width: 600px; width: 542px;"><table cellpadding="0" style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 100%px;"><tbody><tr><td align="left" style="border-collapse: collapse; margin: 0px;"><p style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 25px; margin: 0px 0px 15px;">And what would Dr. Macksey think, if he knew his library had taken on a life of its own? “My dad liked nothing better than sharing his love of books and literature with others,” his son, Alan Macksey, said. “He’d be delighted that his library lives on through this photo.”</p></td></tr></tbody></table></div>heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-26015709638436880382022-01-16T11:44:00.006+00:002022-01-17T08:26:11.114+00:00I'm back!<p> Ok Happy and Healthy 2022. May your dreams fall like feathers of glory around you as they come to beautiful fruition!</p><p>I've been away. Spiritually, intellectually emotionally. UNPRESENT. I'll write about it over the coming months.</p><p>For now I have just seen the comments that have been made and been awaiting moderation for over a year for which I am truly sorry. I will answer every one over the next few weeks.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhejmRQpF1edal0Xl1DbZn929PiSKjXQUHHmeLOPo8CsacJMMEdFtJpXsoNu15C5hLWpmOtjZVc_F4rn-4lq4eOgE8JOYvfeKOk97dzv0qdr0LhSoX8qDBQS632XsnJPdHMVQc0ZIj2J8CFhTCCbqIoxv2wxueW7bur5U3t61sCtOH_aR_IVq0sNcad=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhejmRQpF1edal0Xl1DbZn929PiSKjXQUHHmeLOPo8CsacJMMEdFtJpXsoNu15C5hLWpmOtjZVc_F4rn-4lq4eOgE8JOYvfeKOk97dzv0qdr0LhSoX8qDBQS632XsnJPdHMVQc0ZIj2J8CFhTCCbqIoxv2wxueW7bur5U3t61sCtOH_aR_IVq0sNcad=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />I will try to post weekly from here in -and from the bottom of my heart thank you for reading my little blog! <p></p>heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-48579426790457172312022-01-16T11:25:00.000+00:002022-01-16T11:25:04.321+00:00First Edition of 'The House at Pooh Corner' with charming Shepard illustration of Winnie playing a balalaika<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw2uxWmj2pZXPagFf2M6TrZoqDw71Fbe6vDBORtoBOz8GOrvPogewkNhy7xF7lDuF15cGsrIhkzCgRTzQKDdY4_9OC-BgACrkL_b8DDJNd2xIosioaMFD1AvHFB_vSxCMQSTSvFIRHOnI/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="475" data-original-width="475" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw2uxWmj2pZXPagFf2M6TrZoqDw71Fbe6vDBORtoBOz8GOrvPogewkNhy7xF7lDuF15cGsrIhkzCgRTzQKDdY4_9OC-BgACrkL_b8DDJNd2xIosioaMFD1AvHFB_vSxCMQSTSvFIRHOnI/w400-h400/Winnie+the+Pooh+copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-82807534207892302792022-01-09T09:15:00.002+00:002023-11-17T17:52:30.958+00:00From my Poem 'The Twenty One insights'.<p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">Now he cast his nets at my request,</p><p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">and all he said reeked of naked truth.</p><p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">‘First, wake up! And sniff the guiding wind,</p><p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">the teaching that is written in the sky,</p><p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">written in the clouds for all to see.</p><p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">Men were stretched to look up at the stars,</p><p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">not to snuffle in the clotted mud,</p><p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">or labour for some crook in factories</p><p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">Like icebergs calving in a frozen sea,</p><p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">his words touched me like sea-dreams deep within.</p><p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">Touched that yearning that I know is in me.</p><p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">‘You cannot walk through life with eyes tight shut!</p><p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">And neither is this role a waking dream.</p><p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">Sleep or wake-each must have it’s place,</p><p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">and don’t forget to actually breathe!</p><p style="font-family: Times; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">To breathe is to inhale the dust of stars.</p>heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-65860392569622284282021-09-18T09:46:00.002+00:002021-09-18T09:46:35.775+00:00IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ACTUAL CREATIVE MOMENT-TIM ROUGHGARDEN<p>Sometimes we walk in the moments history is born and made. As Tim Roughgarden states below introducing his new lecture series-now is such a moment. This is from Tyler Cowen's Blog, Marginal Revolution.</p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "Myriad Pro", Ariel, sans-serif; font-size: inherit; line-height: 1.3em; margin: 0.7em 0px; max-width: 600px; padding: 0px; quotes: "“" "”" "‘" "’"; width: initial;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit; line-height: normal; quotes: "“" "”" "‘" "’";">It’s worth recognizing that we’re currently in a particular moment in time, witnessing a new area of computer science blossom before our eyes in real time. It draws on well-established parts of computer science (e.g., cryptography and distributed systems) and other fields (e.g., game theory and finance), but is developing into a fundamental and interdisciplinary area of science and engineering its own right. Future generations of computer scientists will be jealous of your opportunity to get in on the ground floor of this new area–analogous to getting into the Internet and the Web in the early 1990s. I cannot overstate the opportunities available to someone who masters the material covered in this course–current demand is much, much bigger than supply.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", "Myriad Pro", Ariel, sans-serif; font-size: inherit; line-height: 1.3em; margin: 0.7em 0px; max-width: 600px; padding: 0px; quotes: "“" "”" "‘" "’"; width: initial;"><span style="box-sizing: inherit; line-height: normal; quotes: "“" "”" "‘" "’";">And perhaps this course will also serve as a partial corrective to the misguided coverage and discussion of blockchains in a typical mainstream media article or water cooler conversation, which seems bizarrely stuck in 2013 (focused almost entirely on Bitcoin, its environmental impact, the use case of payments, Silk Road, etc.). An enormous number of people, including a majority of computer science researchers and academics, have yet to grok the modern vision of blockchains: a new computing paradigm that will enable the next incarnation of the Internet and the Web, along with an entirely new generation of applications.</span></p>heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-35018030541213768522021-07-09T14:54:00.003+00:002021-07-09T14:54:46.028+00:00Response to a piece in the Sunday Times by Matthew Syed<p> Matthew Syed seems one of the more insightful journalists working for the Murdochs though I continue to have obvious problems with Journalists musing on the erosion of ‘liberal democracy’ (whatever that is) whilst taking the filthy lucre of one who is a prime eroder of said democracy.</p><p>Here we have a continuation of a genre of journalism, realpolitik, personal anecdote, frankly expressed insight, tell it all-warts and all, which seems to be exploding. It’s breast beating but disguised as insight. It bemoans the loss of what, in reality, never existed, because specific interests with paws on the levers of power cannot in what might be laughingly referred to as ‘their view’ allow IT to happen. What that IT is, is a functional, widespread, engaging and engaged, honest and transparent political system that responds to a series of checks and balances that are beyond the control of individuals or interest groups and to which all subscribe on pain of political disgrace and annihilation.</p><p>What we have instead is a philosophical hotch-potch of self interested think tanks, lobbyists, millionaires and billionaires, Corporate interests, Big Pharma, the Military Industrial Complex, Control of media, a militarised Police Force, State Erosion and Public Services nullified with their replacement by inefficient and unqualified private providers seeking profit from said Services.</p><p>The family silver has, of course, been sold. The grounds also hived off for luxury flats and crowded estates. The owners are all absentee landlords yet members of all the right clubs. Navigation through the replacement forests of think tanks and special interest groups requires a Privately Educated School System to groom the next wave of Alpha’s in the codes and signals required for flourishing.</p><p>The point is that all of this, all of it, was clearly signalled in 1979 with the election of Research Chemist, Margaret Thatcher in the UK and with the installing of the actor Ronald Reagan in the US and the resulting onslaught of neo-liberalist ideology that led to the systematic dismantling of effective democratic state structures and the mass sell-off of public goods at bargain-basement prices to chronically liberalised international financial markets.</p><p>Along with privatised utilities of life-essentials like water, coal, gas, transport and public housing came the neo-liberal wraith coming up the rear with the inevitable consequences arising of endless war, privatised military and the hijacking of the military industrial complex by gangs with political masks. The encouragement of massive corruption in the absence of state controls. The exploitation of Africa and Asia for her mineral wealth made inevitable by TIFF and TIPP trade liberalisation as with the continued ravaging of Earth’s resources for short term profit.</p><p>The World stares obliterative disaster in it’s ugly face, not only for the humans but for all the extraordinary critters and vegetable and arborial life forms. Shrouded now in our winding sheets, stitched together in sweat shops by children, using micro-plastics dredged from the oceans, we await the inevitable. Mostly with the percolated anxiety of cattle milling outside the slaughterhouse, sometimes with an oddly triumphant and wilful ignorance that seems to celebrate itself. Sometimes we wait frozen with despair or rage. </p><p>But mostly we carry on. Fighting, fucking, crapping, littering, music making, despoiling, loving, hating, boredoming, maniacal thoughting, opiated, close reading, not reading, mobile phoning texting, bullshitting, group thinking, micro exploiting, ageing, Being, transcending, being born. Hope, hopeless.</p><p>To be alive is to be Cassandra, the doom-caller. There are worse things, but I just can’t think what they are.</p><div><br /></div>heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-83458986707402102102021-04-22T19:05:00.004+00:002021-05-04T20:00:26.188+00:00Epistemological Standpoints (Mark Fisher Project)<p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b>Georg Lukacs</b></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b>History & Class Consciousness</b></span></p><p style="color: #000026; font-family: "Hoefler Text"; font-size: 29.3px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b>III: The Standpoint of the Proletariat</b></span></p><p style="color: #000026; font-family: Arial; font-size: 18.7px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b>5</b></span></p><p style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Thus man has become <span style="background-color: #fcff01;">the measure of</span> all (societal) things. The conceptual and historical foundation for this has been laid by the methodological problems of economics: by dissolving the <span style="background-color: #fcff01;">fetishistic objects into processes </span>that take place among men and are objectified in concrete relations between them; by deriving <span style="background-color: #fcff01;">the indissoluble fetishistic forms from the primary forms of human relations. </span>At the conceptual level the structure of the world of men stands revealed as a system of dynamically changing relations in which the <span style="background-color: #fcff01;">conflicts </span>between man and nature, man and man (in the class struggle, etc.) are fought out. The structure and the hierarchy of the categories are the index of the degree of clarity to which man has attained concerning the foundations of<span style="background-color: #fcff01;"> his existence in these relations, i.e. the degree of consciousness of himself.</span></span></p><p style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 19px;"><span style="background-color: white; color: red;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; background-color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: red;">WTF!!! How dare you create a paragraph like this Georg! A spanking on the bare bottom is in order!!! I do not mean to be </span></span><span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">disrespectful but...really!</span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><br /></span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">So the name of this mental foundation of thought processes is the wonderful STANDPOINT EPISTEMOLOGY. What a great descriptive! But what does it mean? </span></span></p>heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-90735440551566323642021-03-16T08:16:00.003+00:002021-03-16T08:16:46.683+00:00Essay4th! H P Lovecraft and the Art of Supernatural horror-Lovecraft's great Essay: Supernatural horror in Literature.<p> A mere 46 years old at the time of his death in 1937, Lovecraft is the father of what came to be known as Weird Fiction. </p><p>Lovecraft's extraordinary essay on supernatural literature and tales begins thus:</p><p><i>'The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.'</i></p><p>That's a lot of fear!</p>heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-16739274750919365902021-03-16T07:59:00.000+00:002021-03-16T07:59:44.635+00:00ENDNOTES FOR 2020<h3 style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; clear: both; color: #262626; font-family: Montserrat, sans-serif; font-size: 28px; font-weight: 500; line-height: 1.2;">“In my whole life, I have known no wise people (over a broad subject matter area) who didn’t read all the time – none, zero.”</h3><p class="cite" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #515151; font-family: freight-text-pro, serif; font-size: 19px; font-style: italic; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 0px;">— Charlie Munger</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRlg0qfaIE64AfQXoitORQdvsdwaiHfeOddp99PlXRO87kUpDx0QX-J-jKyMQ3aoRHHzVxdWCTTmyJ-cIpIx6cQSXhWEqlRxM3jPZ6jMbYtJ00kq35gyfcxqBLP4sJdUM6A7WG6UBZ2eM/s360/NOTES.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="360" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRlg0qfaIE64AfQXoitORQdvsdwaiHfeOddp99PlXRO87kUpDx0QX-J-jKyMQ3aoRHHzVxdWCTTmyJ-cIpIx6cQSXhWEqlRxM3jPZ6jMbYtJ00kq35gyfcxqBLP4sJdUM6A7WG6UBZ2eM/s320/NOTES.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPUUwqg32BjnfkvqHbh44YdRCYcSFjh5A808EEPKp9SPRMMUnkEEJnsTagaTaVNd24ojwXxu2B6Ua8OsKZWXSmkLbnE1UTdqMx-i23ENsGLcJFKe9Ahm-RgSireFxOz7waQlJEI8nbcTI/s360/MIND+MAPPING.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="360" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPUUwqg32BjnfkvqHbh44YdRCYcSFjh5A808EEPKp9SPRMMUnkEEJnsTagaTaVNd24ojwXxu2B6Ua8OsKZWXSmkLbnE1UTdqMx-i23ENsGLcJFKe9Ahm-RgSireFxOz7waQlJEI8nbcTI/w246-h246/MIND+MAPPING.jpg" width="246" /></a></div><br />heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-63088440475505539902020-11-21T09:30:00.003+00:002020-11-29T11:45:53.644+00:00DECEMBER NOTES<p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #414141; font-family: garamond-premier-pro, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-feature-settings: "liga", "kern", "onum"; font-size: 1.25em; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 1.3em;">MONTAIGNE: Given the subject matter, “Of Experience” has about it a remarkably buoyant magnitude. Take, for instance, the following passage, as translated by Donald Frame in <em style="box-sizing: inherit;">The Complete Essays of Montaigne</em>:</p><blockquote style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #414141; font-family: garamond-premier-pro, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 20px;"><p style="box-sizing: inherit; font-feature-settings: "liga", "kern", "onum"; font-size: 1.25em; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 1.3em;">It takes management to enjoy life. I enjoy it twice as much as others, for the measure of enjoyment depends on the greater or lesser attention that we lend it. Especially at this moment, when I perceive that mine is so brief in time, I try to increase it in weight; I try to arrest the speed of its flight by the speed with which I grasp it, and to compensate for the haste of its ebb by my vigor in using it. The shorter my possession of life, the deeper and fuller I must make it.</p></blockquote><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #414141; font-family: garamond-premier-pro, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-feature-settings: "liga", "kern", "onum"; font-size: 1.25em; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 1.3em;">Propelled by verbs—<em style="box-sizing: inherit;">perceive</em>,<em style="box-sizing: inherit;"> arrest</em>,<em style="box-sizing: inherit;"> grasp</em>,<em style="box-sizing: inherit;"> make</em>,<em style="box-sizing: inherit;"> try</em>,<em style="box-sizing: inherit;"> try</em>—the sentences wheel and wrestle across the page, resisting stasis at every turn, refusing to wait around. They achieve that mimetic, nearly miraculous work of performing the very action they describe. Here and elsewhere, Montaigne’s musings on mortality, his gripes about illness and aging, his love-hate relationship with the natural order, not to mention his fervent epistemological stocktaking, make for a stubborn blueprint for life in the red zone, an operative action plan for how to wring futility’s neck.</p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #414141; font-family: garamond-premier-pro, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-feature-settings: "liga", "kern", "onum"; font-size: 1.25em; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 1.3em;">The ubiquity of suffering heightened Montaigne’s attentiveness to the complexity of human experience. Pleasure, he contends, flows not from free rein but structure. The brevity of existence, he goes on, gives it a certain heft. Exertion, truth be told, is the best form of compensation. Time is slippery, the more reason to grab hold.</p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #414141; font-family: garamond-premier-pro, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-feature-settings: "liga", "kern", "onum"; font-size: 1.25em; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 1.3em;">In each of these apothegms, we find evidence of what Keats would later call, in a letter to his brothers, “negative capability,” a notion that F. Scott Fitzgerald, in his essay “The Crack-Up,” summarized as the capacity to embrace two contradictory ideas at the same time and go on functioning. “Of Experience” is one of Montaigne’s gravest works—“We must learn to endure,” he writes, “what we cannot avoid”—but the writing is so vigorous, so uninterested in despair. In the end, we get the sense from the writing <em style="box-sizing: inherit;">that</em> the writing was Montaigne’s method of magnifying enjoyment. Reading him might be as good a way as any to suspend life’s flight.</p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #414141; font-family: garamond-premier-pro, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-feature-settings: "liga", "kern", "onum"; font-size: 1.25em; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 1.3em;"> <em style="box-sizing: inherit; font-size: 1.25em;">Drew Bratcher </em></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #414141; font-family: garamond-premier-pro, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-feature-settings: "liga", "kern", "onum"; font-size: 1.25em; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 1.3em;"><em style="box-sizing: inherit; font-size: 1.25em;">---------------------------------------------------------</em></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #414141; font-family: garamond-premier-pro, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-feature-settings: "liga", "kern", "onum"; font-size: 1.25em; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 1.3em;"><em style="box-sizing: inherit; font-size: 1.25em;"></em></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em style="box-sizing: inherit; font-size: 1.25em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgMqHz6WRaea2im7ck02Si7zdsDs_Ea9W6aipkWUVtHg7lq6a40twqOoBvpfhvvAzEhlePhYQ4-gmvlS0uWv4VHlcrnpRoobx7bdvBnI_XsCsnBKXzj-jCjWCZEchC0hUMg386uIlHNhc/s400/George.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="275" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgMqHz6WRaea2im7ck02Si7zdsDs_Ea9W6aipkWUVtHg7lq6a40twqOoBvpfhvvAzEhlePhYQ4-gmvlS0uWv4VHlcrnpRoobx7bdvBnI_XsCsnBKXzj-jCjWCZEchC0hUMg386uIlHNhc/s320/George.jpg" /></a></em></div><em style="box-sizing: inherit; font-size: 1.25em;"><br /><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 16.2526px; font-style: normal;"><br /></span></em><p></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #414141; font-family: garamond-premier-pro, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-feature-settings: "liga", "kern", "onum"; font-size: 1.25em; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 1.3em;"><em style="box-sizing: inherit; font-size: 1.25em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 16.2526px; font-style: normal;">George Giacinto Giarchi graduated from the University of Glasgow in 1981 with a PhD in Sociology, and subsequently became Professor of Social Care studies at the University of Plymouth from 1977 to 2016. He is remembered in Scotland for his innovative social inscape study of the Argyll town of Dunoon in the 1970s - ‘Between McAlpine and Polaris.’</span></em></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #414141; font-family: garamond-premier-pro, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-feature-settings: "liga", "kern", "onum"; font-size: 1.25em; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 1.3em;"><em style="box-sizing: inherit; font-size: 1.25em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 16.2526px; font-style: normal;">I am astonished to see how our lives intersected and terribly disappointed we never met. I lived in Dunoon in the early 60's and have some searing memories of that time that I will write about one day.</span></em></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #414141; font-family: garamond-premier-pro, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-feature-settings: "liga", "kern", "onum"; font-size: 1.25em; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 1.3em;"><em style="box-sizing: inherit; font-size: 1.25em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 16.2526px; font-style: normal;">Also would love to read his study of the impact of the military industrial complex on a small Scottish town. But it's hard to get hold of.</span></em></p>heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-55437632906505935212020-10-03T14:59:00.000+00:002020-10-03T14:59:06.469+00:00‘Meaning and melancholia: Life in the age of bewilderment.’ Review of important book by Christopher Bollas by my bestie, Professor Jim Davis<p>
</p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #c00000; font-size: 14pt;">‘Meaning and
melancholia: Life in the age of bewilderment.’ Routledge 2018<br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #44546a; font-size: 14pt; mso-themecolor: text2;">By Christopher Bollas. Reviewed by Jim Davis.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #44546a; font-size: 14pt; mso-themecolor: text2;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #44546a; font-size: 14pt; mso-themecolor: text2;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZVxXSvaaRCTBRTuirj2AGUzu_glKcAn-vOSZ7MKuDDnkBUvk8rvSqGUFQUgz9BM7FMALhk15ymi8K17p1ANJGySh5xR75FsrqM2NnItDlz5-4um6_h_KaicQYf_UOfq5luc4msvgdbkg/s545/Bollas+Image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="545" data-original-width="352" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZVxXSvaaRCTBRTuirj2AGUzu_glKcAn-vOSZ7MKuDDnkBUvk8rvSqGUFQUgz9BM7FMALhk15ymi8K17p1ANJGySh5xR75FsrqM2NnItDlz5-4um6_h_KaicQYf_UOfq5luc4msvgdbkg/s320/Bollas+Image.jpg" /></a></span></div><span style="color: #44546a; font-size: 14pt; mso-themecolor: text2;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #44546a; font-size: 14pt; mso-themecolor: text2;">It was such a delight an inspiration for me to read this book.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here is a leading light in the
psychotherapeutic world applying his creative and innovative psychodynamic
thinking to a range of social, cultural and political issues.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #44546a; font-size: 14pt; mso-themecolor: text2;">My fear has been that the early-days ‘portrait’ of Transactional
Analysis as a ‘social psychiatry’ has, mostly, come to resemble Oscar Wilde’s
‘Picture of Dorian Gray’, and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>that Pearl
Drego’s call to transactional analysts to get out of our ‘psychic closets’ and
involve ourselves in social movements for change remains largely unheard. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #44546a; font-size: 14pt; mso-themecolor: text2;">At the heart of this book, as the title suggests, is the fundamental
importance of the search for meaning, and it is the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">process </i>of searching that’s crucial as opposed to finding any
definitive ‘truth’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As Bollas puts it,
‘Arguably, the quest itself (for meaning) <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">constitutes</i>
the meaning to be found’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Indeed one
could describe the book itself as an invitation to do just that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>RSVP!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #44546a; font-size: 14pt; mso-themecolor: text2;">His view is that there has been a ‘longstanding turn towards cynicism
and passivity in our culture, a loss of belief in ourselves which has grown
across generations and is now a psychic fact of our lives.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Socially this fatalism manifests as a
‘detached, cynical spectatorism, opposed to any active engagement and
involvement…an abandonment of a commitment to social justice.’ With the loss of
meaning, and the feeling that our lives can make a contribution, mourning has
turned to melancholia, and we share the experience of a collective
‘bewilderment.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #44546a; font-size: 14pt; mso-themecolor: text2;">Bollas begins his book, in the Preface, by referring to the disturbing
victory of Donald Trump in America, the vote for Brexit in the UK, and the rise
of right-wing populism in Europe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In
doing so he offers us an invitation to widen our perspective from that of the
individual, and even the family (itself shaped by politics, economics and
culture) to the social, political and cultural realms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He enjoins us <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">both</i> a)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>to use our psychological
theories to understand what is happening in our social world, and b) to account
how ‘what is happening in our social world’ in turn shapes our selves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #44546a; font-size: 14pt; mso-themecolor: text2;">Social, political, economic and technological factors create frames of
mind which are shared collectively, and are transmitted from generation to
generation. Throughout the book Bollas’s search for meaning can be seen as
dialectical - a ‘dialogue’ that shuttles between two seemingly opposing
perspectives – in this case the social (history, politics, culture, technology)
and the individual - based on the underlying notion that it is the exploration
of the relationship between the two perspectives that elicits meaning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #44546a; font-size: 14pt; mso-themecolor: text2;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #44546a; font-size: 14pt; mso-themecolor: text2;">Bollas describes his book as a contribution to ‘political psychology’
and a ‘social psychotherapy’, and as an attempt to put psychological insight at
the heart of a new kind of analysis of culture, society and history.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He bemoans the way commentators tend to ‘shy
away; from psychological introspection in explaining the ‘anguish of political
phenomena’ and seeks to provide <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a
‘vocabulary and a set of perspectives that can set the stage for different
types of conversations about our predicament’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For example he refers to the paradoxical phenomenon of white working
poor Americans identifying with Fox News and pro-Trump billionaires,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and suggests that this can be better
understood psychologically - as an example of how oppressor and victim will
form curious attachments to one another - than by means of socio-economic
analysis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If we do not understand the ‘dynamics of this
collective ‘charge’, we risk losing contemporary societies to ‘explosive
entropy.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This book is therefore also a
call to action, both in and beyond our ‘psychic closets.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I have pointed out elsewhere (ref)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘History tells us that slavery, racial
discrimination, sexism, apartheid, colonialism weren’t seen as ‘social
problems’ that anyone did enough about until the abolition, civil rights,
#metoo, anti-apartheid independence social movements turned them into one.’ </span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #44546a; font-size: 14pt; mso-themecolor: text2;">Bollas opens his analysis from the belief that in order to understand
the present, and think about the future, we need to start with our history, and
in the first few chapters he traces the history of the West (USA and Europe)
over the last two hundred years. His aim in this is to make sense of how
social, political and economic factors eg industrialisation, the horror of two
world wars, colonialism, globalisation and technological change shaped the
formation of collectively shared states of mind over many generations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #44546a; font-size: 14pt; mso-themecolor: text2;">For example, in relation to colonialism, ‘By the 1880s the overwhelming
power of Europe over the rest of the world sponsored a manic state of mind;
fuelled by self-idealisation, they licensed themselves to ravage the world.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wonders, psychologically, how many
Europeans allowed themselves to recognise the ‘murderousness’ of this
colonialism. The optimism about ‘progress’ to be found in Western society
throughout the 19<sup>th</sup> and 20<sup>th</sup> Centuries could be
accomplished only by splitting, and projecting unwanted parts of self and
society into the ‘other’….so when Europe colonized Africa it found its perfect
‘other’: ‘’savages’’ would contain the projective identifications of Europeans’
minds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were seen to be primitive
and violent so that the West could be sophisticated and pure.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He describes this as a turning away from the
reflective life, ‘burying ourselves in our ventures’, oblivious to the
exploitation of the working–class and colonised people elsewhere in the world,
which were seen simply as manifestations of the ‘natural order of things’’</span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #44546a; font-size: 14pt; mso-themecolor: text2;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #44546a; font-size: 14pt; mso-themecolor: text2;">As a former professor of English, Bollas begins his exploration of the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">impact</i> of this social history on the
fragmentation of inner life via reference to the literature of the early and
mid 20<sup>th</sup> Century - Virginia Woolf, E.M. Forster, Camus, and
Sartre.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He portrays Camus’ ‘The
stranger’ and Sartre’s ‘Nausea’ as ‘literary derivatives of two World Wars that
crippled the soul of the Western self’. In place of the hero, we now have not
so much an anti-hero as a negated </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">human
being; an absence of self and thought where once existed presence, insight and
soul searching’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">I remember reading <span style="color: red;">‘</span>Nausea’ (1938) and the impact it had on me in my
impressionable youth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The main
character, Roquentin, spent most of his time in the library (searching for
meaning no doubt!).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There he met a
character whom Sartre named the Autodidact, whose knowledge of literature
seemed truly extensive, that was until Roquentin realised that the only authors
the Autodidact ever referred to had names, the first letter of which was
between a and n, but never o or beyond.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Turned out he was working his way through the entire library, from a to
z in that order! Reading Bollas I realised that the Autodidact represented
Sartre’s negated human being, a self without presence or soul searching,
collaterally damaged from world war two.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The ‘nausea’ of the title refers to the experience of life’s
meaninglessness and absurdity, a characterisation that matches Bollas
description of our most recent and current history as an ‘Age of Bewilderment’.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">In a series of chapters
which focus on how the social, culture shapes the individual, he makes that
point that all individual psycho-diagnoses reflect the cultural mentalities of
their time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He gives a number of
examples, beginning with the emergence of the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">borderline</i> personality in the middle of the 20<sup>th</sup>
century, characterised by splitting, idealisation and projection. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bollas extends the idea of borderline as a ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">cultural</i> suggestion’, a way of understanding
how radical contradictions between ideological positions held within a society
can successfully be kept apart, eg Remainers and Leavers about Brexit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is precisely this borderline social
structure that characterised post-war America, and enabled it to continue to
idealise itself as the liberator of the free world whilst at the same time
sustaining its war machine for the conflicts that followed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The split between the idealised America and
the paranoid war-making America, between a country of promise and a country of
profound racial prejudice, between its identity as a leader in the global
community and an inwardly retreating nationalism, all served to create a
profoundly confusing borderline ‘object structure.’</span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">The cultural disinterest
in inner life has also led to the formation of a new personality type – which
Bollas calls the <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">normopath</b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unlike the borderline they are not filled
with anger, but rather are those who seek refuge from mental life by immersing
immersing oneself in material comfort and a life of recreation, fundamentally
disinterested in subjective life. They are abnormally normal – seemingly
stable, secure, comfortable and socially extrovert’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Normopathy relates closely to what Mark
Fischer (ref) terms hedonic depression, characterised not only by the pursuit
of pleasure but also a retreat into displacement activities such as addictive
consumption, and a narcissistic withdrawal from ‘society’ and social issues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">In a fascinating chapter
entitled ‘Transmissive Selves’ Bollas turns his attention to the shaping of
selves by our increasingly technologically mediated world. Regarding the impact
of social media he says ‘We may wonder if we have ever before walked so blindly
into a mass transformation….with so little idea of where we are going.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He argues that whereas modern media may seem
in some ways to have brought the world closer together, in fact such immediacy
has created a disguised form of distance - we are not closer, but further
apart. Our lives and selves are based less on immediate experiences and more on
those indirect perceptions ‘spawned by the information revolution’ </span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Selfies for example do not
reveal the self but rather an ‘other in a solitary act of estranged intimacy’,
and when we abandon actuals to communicate with virtuals we are momentarily dissociated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps, even more fundamentally, Facebook,
Instagram and Twitter and the like allow us to become, so to speak, part of the
show. As we transmit our private selves to the world, we also become a function
of that new technology - what Bollas calls the ‘transmissive self.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We become both the vehicle of the
communication, and ‘extensions of these objects as much as they are extensions
of us’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Forebodingly, Bollas suggests
that ‘A glance at the android future promises, not depth of communication, but a
vision from the mental shadows. ’</span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">In and altogether <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">too</i> short a chapter on the implications
for what goes on in the therapy room, I was intrigued by the way Bollas
developed Freud’s idea of the return of the repressed (ie the reappearance of
unconscious mental content being expressed in a disguised form).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bollas coins the term ‘return of the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">oppressed’</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Wherever there is oppression of any form
the oppressed self is forced to find compromised forms of thinking and expression,
as a result of that oppression.’ <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By way
of example, Bollas cites the idea of the ‘pseudo stupidity’ of slaves feigning
various types of incapacity as a form of resistance, for example by
‘accidentally’ breaking machinery, or appearing unable to follow instructions,
ie deliberately committing bungled actions as a defence and protest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Part of the challenge facing the present-day
psychologist is how to restore interest in being a subject in the face of
oppression’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a challenge relevant to
all TA Fields, Bollas asks ‘What tools can the clinician use to analyse
oppression and the ‘return of the oppressed’ in order to help the client find a
space and a voice for reflective thought, expression and identity in relation
to any form of oppression - racism, sexism, gender identity. (ref Ds CP,
Johnson on gender, me on resilience)</span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="color: #c00000; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Continuing in his
shuttling back and forth in the dialectic between the individual and society,
Bollas shifts his attention to the impact of Globalisation<span style="color: red;">.</span> Increasingly, and in a multitude of different ways,
people have felt profoundly alienated by the world around them and seem to be
in retreat from complexity and loss of meaning, seeking refuge in a search for
a simplified view of life. This has fuelled the rise in fundamentalism, in
protest about being governed by forces outside peoples’ understanding or
control.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seems to me that Brexit has
thrown up many examples of this pattern, eg ‘get Brexit done’, ‘take back
control’ – political mantras that oversimplified complex issues, stirred up
widespread fears, and appealed to swathes of voters in the recent general
election.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As Bollas points out, in the
US context, this movement also represented a vote against the elite and remote
government in Washington.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He suggests
that voters shifted from Obama to Trump (similarly, in UK: labour to tory) not
because they were attending so much to the policy differences between the two,
but because they wanted to ‘take back control’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>‘Emotions, not evidence based ‘facts’ (especially the ones that made
people miserable) would be the new criteria for meaning making. If thinking
something made you feel better it had to be right; if ideas made you feel
worse, then they were bad and to be eliminated’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">But, Bollas warns, the
refusal to accept the complexity of life and the mind does not come without a
price. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It corresponds, he suggests, to
what Freud meant by the ‘death drive’ - ‘the self’s retreat from a non-familiar
world into the enclave of the secluded self.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In the heat of the moment we can abandon complexity and opt for a
simplistic version of reality, a more self- friendly version of things, and one
based on paranoid projection onto others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Scapegoating<u> </u>simplifies a highly complex set of fears, and as
Bollas emphasises, the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">group</i>
projection easily escapes reflective processes, pointing out that ‘the attack
on Baghdad showed very clearly who really had the weapons of mass
destruction’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Similarly, in Trumps projective
identifications – Mexicans are rapists, fake news, ‘crooked Hilary’ -and his
offering of simple solutions to complex matters, he is gauging the feelings of
society and ‘organising them into a political rhetoric, which captures paranoid
aspects of people’s imagination.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Paranoid
thinking works because it binds people around powerful feelings, and simplifies
complex issues into digestible ones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘When
political movements are based on paranoid ideas, the group process becomes all
the more dangerous, as isolated selves discover there are millions of other
people who share the same views.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
retreat into paranoia then becomes even more deeply assuring and
confirming’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">In this way Bollas
suggests that certain ideologies can function as ‘emotional and psychic holding
environments’, such as in the appeal of the right wing neo-liberal push to
reduce the regulatory functions of government.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Regulation, they argue, is the enemy of freedom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Government is trying to take something away
from us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These are felt, not simply as
opinions, but as statements of fact, together with the belief that powerful
forces in our world have taken away something that was cherished.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This in turn evokes a sense of loss,
abandonment and helplessness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Fear,
failure and impotence is a cocktail of emotions endemic to the marginalised’
and one of the ways out of this dilemma is to transform helplessness and
depression into anger. In this way extremist views may represent a form of
emotional, psychic holding in the face of extreme forms of dismay.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Deregulation, he
emphasises, doesn’t apply only to the removal of the government’s regulatory
functions, but extends more widely into a rejection of all forms of self and
social regulation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Trump’s shameless
expression of racist and sexist views is a manifestation of what happens when
an individual abandons self-regulation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If this becomes widespread, it can result in a society governed by ‘id
capitalism and primitive states of mind.’ Confronted by opposing views the
paranoid feels under threat. Indeed anyone with opposing ideas is a ‘migrant
seeking to cross the borders of the mind.’ This way of looking at things
provides the paranoid self with a ‘powerful and pleasurable sense of cohesion
in a world that otherwise seems contaminated by its opposite - plurality.’</span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-55496481115009535742020-07-27T13:53:00.001+00:002021-05-04T20:03:17.983+00:00March Update-The World of Co-vid<span face="Verdana, sans-serif">Isolation. Stationary. Distance. Respiration.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>I read 'Pandemic' by Sonia Shah 2016. I wish our leaders had!</b><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><i>'Finnegans Wake' gives comfort</i></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><u>I study an OU course on Financial Concepts through a gritted mind.</u></span><div><span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><u><br /></u></span></div><div><span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><u>I lose a job. I start a job. Two weeks later, lockdown hits!</u></span></div><div><span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><u><br /></u></span></div><div><span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><u>I buy a car-a Subaru Forester.</u></span></div><div><span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><u><br /></u></span></div><div><span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><u><br /></u></span></div><div><span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><u><br /></u></span></div><div><span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><u><br /></u></span></div>heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-45190308192379912172020-07-27T13:43:00.001+00:002020-07-27T13:43:10.729+00:00The World needs a new Superhero-I'm here folks!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhytVzHSZEmB1RahcKZhwNzUCLTXjFcHqQcMFskyvsH0DY4rk_p_ey-Wg-hzuBxLd7IZRJmOsO4Mmnon6MwgyuJhygioCD_pSDWBVdBwcsQOhqQOAxwfcdhRo8ZZC5qS8fM8scszKP7oY4/s1600/IMG-1211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhytVzHSZEmB1RahcKZhwNzUCLTXjFcHqQcMFskyvsH0DY4rk_p_ey-Wg-hzuBxLd7IZRJmOsO4Mmnon6MwgyuJhygioCD_pSDWBVdBwcsQOhqQOAxwfcdhRo8ZZC5qS8fM8scszKP7oY4/s640/IMG-1211.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-84514250018215106282020-07-25T08:35:00.001+00:002020-07-25T08:35:27.851+00:00My son sends me a Matthew Syed piece from The Sunday Times and I respond!
<br />
<div style="border: solid black 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid black .25pt; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0cm 0cm 0cm 0cm;">
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: 37.5pt; margin-bottom: 3.75pt; mso-border-alt: solid black .25pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 0cm 0cm; padding: 0cm; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #1d1d1b; font-family: "TimesModern-Bold",serif; font-size: 34.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt;">Xi banks on the decline and fall of
the West</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"></span></div>
</div>
<div style="border: solid black 1.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid black .25pt; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0cm 8.0pt 0cm 8.0pt;">
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; line-height: 22.5pt; margin-bottom: 15.0pt; mso-border-alt: solid black .25pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; mso-outline-level: 2; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 8.0pt 0cm 8.0pt; padding: 0cm; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "TimesModern-Regular",serif; font-size: 16.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The rot reaches so deep, we do not even see it. But our enemies do</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><a href="https://www.thetimes.co.uk/profile/matthew-syed" target="_blank"><span style="border: solid black 1.0pt; color: #006699; font-family: "GillSansMTStd-Medium",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-border-alt: solid black .25pt; padding: 0cm;">Matthew Syed</span></a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 11.25pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: dimgrey; font-family: "GillSansMTStd-Medium",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Sunday July 19 2020, 12.01am, The
Sunday Times</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-line-height-alt: 22.5pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: #850029; font-family: "TimesModern-Regular",serif; font-size: 82.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">O</span><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">n Thursday, Paul Johnson of the Institute for
Fiscal Studies analysed the spending plans of the messianic Rishi Sunak. His
analysis made for interesting reading. He found that the much-trumpeted
“Rooseveltian” injection of £5.5bn was not quite as it seemed. Looking through
the small print, Johnson found that it was an accountancy trick, a statistical
mirage. It was money shunted from one place to another or, as he put it, an
increase “of precisely zero”. He found the same for a litany of other
“pledges”.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 22.5pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I was
struck by this story, not because of what it said — if correct — about deceit
at the heart of government, but because of how we responded to it. Some
newspapers didn’t cover Johnson’s claims at all. It eluded the BBC’s main
bulletins and, as far as I can tell, ITV’s, too. And, frankly, who can blame
them? Deception has become so commonplace, so par for the course (think of
previous budgets, many of which contain set-piece conjuring tricks), that it
has melted into the background. Like a virus that has become endemic in a host
population, we scarcely notice it any more.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 22.5pt; margin-bottom: 18.75pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I mention
this because we stand at a crossroads. The stand-off between what we might
loosely call “the West” and China has been described as a new cold war. I am
not particularly attracted to the language but can’t dispute that a battle of
historic significance is now being waged between Xi Jinping’s Communist Party
(CPC) and the liberal democratic order. Unlike the last Cold War, centred
around nuclear brinkmanship and ideology, this will be a battle over quantum
computing, AI and global influence. And here’s a sobering truth: this is a
battle the West might lose.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 22.5pt; margin-bottom: 18.75pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I say
this not because of any esteem for the CPC, but because the decay within the
liberal system has taken on a distinctive quality. It is not Donald Trump (who,
to be fair, was quick to spot the threat of China) that should worry us, or his
pardoning of his former adviser Roger Stone, or the woeful response to the
pandemic or, coming to our side of the Atlantic, the farce involving the
housing secretary, Robert Jenrick, or a million other scandals across the
democratic world. It is not even the chronic short-termism of the modern West,
something that stands in contrast to China making strategic plans stretching
towards 2050.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 22.5pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">No, the
most telling sign of decay is stories — such as that of Sunak — that we hardly
notice any more; a putrefaction so familiar that we can no longer smell it.
In <i>The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire</i>, Gibbon
writes: “It was scarcely possible that the eyes of contemporaries should
discover in the public felicity the latent causes of decay and corruption.” His
point is, I think, indisputable: the last people to spot a system in decline
are insiders. It is outsiders who are better placed to detect the rot.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 22.5pt; margin-bottom: 18.75pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">And this,
I think, helps to explain the growing assertiveness of the CPC. Some western
analysts have expressed surprise at Xi’s menacing stance towards Taiwan, his
manoeuvres in the South China Sea and the skirmishes with India along the Himalayan
border. It is all too easy for us to write this off as imperial overreach, the
vanity of a wannabe dictator. Doesn’t he realise that the Chinese system is
corrupt, riddled with contradictions and saddled with slowing growth?</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 22.5pt; margin-bottom: 18.75pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Here’s
some news: Xi knows this only too well. The politburo may be kleptocratic but
it is not stupid. No, its members assess that the time is ripe for global
expansion not because of a hubristic assessment of their own strength but an
assessment of our weakness. Like Gibbon looking back on Rome, they spot the
rot. They note the epic polarisation, the surreal identity wars, the growing
contempt that many westerners have for their own histories and institutions.
And they see this as a chance to reset the world order gradually in their
interests and against ours.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 22.5pt; margin-bottom: 18.75pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The same
analysis applies to Vladimir Putin’s Russia which — although an economic basket
case — has been flexing its foreign policy muscles and running a hacking racket
against western targets; last week it was accused of trying to pilfer Covid-19
vaccine research and influence the 2019 general election. Again, western
commentary explains this as a consequence of the internal dynamics of Russia
and the personality of the president, who fancies himself as Peter the Great. I’d
suggest that it is better understood not by our assessment of them, but their
assessment of us. The wily former KGB agent, like Xi, sees a western order in
decline.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 22.5pt; margin-bottom: 18.75pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Let me
repeat: when an empire is decaying, it’s the stuff insiders no longer notice
that is the killer. We focus our ire on property developers getting payoffs or
government scientists breaking rules. All well and good. But we no longer
notice, as Gibbon put it, “the poison introduced into the vitals of the
system”: the legalised corruption, the revolving door between politics and
business, the rules rigged to suit special interests. According to the author
Francis Fukuyama, the US tax code is 10,000 pages long, layer upon layer of
sweetheart exemptions, favours and quid pro quos.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 22.5pt; margin-bottom: 18.75pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">As for
market economies — they have ossified under our very noses. The rules are so
advantageous for insiders that new businesses can’t get a look-in, clogging up
innovation. Of Europe’s 100 most valuable companies, none was formed in the
past 40 years, a point made by the author Matt Ridley. In America, incumbents
are staying ever longer in the main indices. As for start-up rates, they are
falling in 16 out of 18 western economies. Now consider another trend by way of
explanation: in 1971 Washington had 175 registered lobbying firms. By 2013 this
had exploded to 12,000, spending more than $3.2bn annually, a trend replicated
throughout the western world.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 22.5pt; margin-bottom: 18.75pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I am not,
of course, making a case for Russia or China. I could spend thousands of words
detailing their corruption and horrific repression. I am merely suggesting that
the best way to understand their actions is through the prism of our weakness.
They don’t see their manoeuvres as overreach but the poking of a western order
that is decaying from within and has lost the capacity to garner international
support. On the latter point, they are surely right. At the UN, Britain failed
miserably to gain backing for the condemnation of the draconian security law
imposed upon Hong Kong, securing only 26 votes. Whereas 53 nations backed
China, an early payoff from the Belt and Road initiative, where the CPC is
spending big on other nations, garnering ever more soft power.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 22.5pt; margin-bottom: 18.75pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I am
still putting my money on liberal democracy. We have the more enlightened
system. But the best way to overcome our vanity is to put ourselves in the
shoes of other nations, both friends and adversaries, looking at us in
disbelief. As psychologists say to narcissists and as Gibbon warned down the
centuries: “We need to see ourselves as others see us.”</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 22.5pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><a href="https://twitter.com/matthewsyed" target="_blank"><span style="color: #006699; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">@MatthewSyed</span></a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 22.5pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 22.5pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: #006699; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">RESPONSE: So thank you so much Ben for sending this on which I
read with interest. Matthew Syed seems one of the more insightful
journalists working for the Murdochs though I continue to have obvious problems
with Journalists musing on the erosion of ‘liberal democracy’ (whatever that is)
whilst taking the filthy lucre of one who is a prime eroder of said democracy.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 22.5pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: #006699; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Here we have a continuation of a genre of journalism, realpolitik,
personal anecdote, frankly expressed insight, tell it all-warts and all, which
seems to be exploding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s breast
beating but disguised as insight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
bemoans the loss of what, in reality, never existed, because specific interests
with paws on the levers of power cannot in what might be laughingly referred to
as ‘their view’ allow IT to happen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What
that IT is, is a functional, widespread, engaging and engaged, honest and transparent
political system that responds to a series of checks and balances that are
beyond the control of individuals or interest groups and to which all subscribe
on pain of political disgrace and annihilation.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 22.5pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="color: #006699; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">What we have instead is a philosophical hotch-potch of self interested
think tanks, lobbyists, millionaires and billionaires, Corporate interests, Big
Pharma, the Military Industrial Complex, Control of media, a militarised Police
Force, State Erosion and Public Services nullified with their replacement by
inefficient and unqualified private providers seeking profit from said Services.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #006699; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The family silver has, of course, been sold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The grounds also hived off for luxury flats
and crowded estates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The owners are all absentee
landlords yet members of all the right clubs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Navigation through the replacement forests of think tanks and special interest
groups requires a Privately Educated School System to groom the next wave of
Alpha’s in the codes and signals required for flourishing.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #006699; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The point is that all of this, all of it, was clearly signalled in 1979
with the election of Research Chemist, Margaret Thatcher in the UK and with the
installing of the actor Ronald Reagan in the US and the resulting onslaught of
neo-liberalist ideology that led to the systematic dismantling of effective democratic
state structures and the mass sell-off of public goods at bargain-basement
prices to chronically liberalised international financial markets.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #006699; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Along with privatised utilities of life-essentials like water, coal, gas,
transport and public housing came the neo-liberal wraith coming up the rear
with the inevitable consequences arising of endless war, privatised military
and the hijacking of the military industrial complex by gangs with political
masks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The encouragement of massive
corruption in the absence of state controls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The exploitation of Africa and Asia for her mineral wealth made inevitable
by TIFF and TIPP trade liberalisation as with the continued ravaging of Earth’s
resources for short term profit.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #006699; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The World stares obliterative disaster in it’s ugly face, not only for
the humans but for all the extraordinary critters and vegetable and arborial
life forms. Shrouded now in our winding sheets, stitched together in sweat
shops by children, using micro-plastics dredged from the oceans, we await the inevitable.
Mostly with the percolated anxiety of cattle milling outside the slaughterhouse,
sometimes with an oddly triumphant and wilful ignorance that seems to celebrate
itself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes we wait frozen with
despair or rage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #006699; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">But mostly we carry on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fighting,
fucking, crapping, littering, music making, despoiling, loving, hating, boredoming,
maniacal thoughting, opiated, close reading, not reading, mobile phoning
texting, bullshitting, group thinking, micro exploiting, ageing, Being,
transcending, being born.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hope, hopeless.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #006699; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">To be alive is to be Cassandra, the doom-caller.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are worse things, but I just can’t
think what they are.</span></div>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style>heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-35683648258841345332020-03-19T15:03:00.005+00:002020-03-19T15:04:54.957+00:00Lyrics to my song 'We will not be cast down'<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>We will not be cast down!</b></div>
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We will not be cast down</div>
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Oppressed or overwhelmed</div>
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By all this tragedy</div>
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We will not lose our light</div>
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In this sea of swirl and trouble</div>
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We need our light to see by!</div>
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<br /></div>
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We'll not be screwed by fear</div>
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Into a knuckle</div>
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Hard and dense with doubt</div>
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We will not lose our hearts</div>
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In this cold cold wind</div>
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We need our hearts to love with!</div>
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<br /></div>
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We will not unbelievers be</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Amid these spirals of divinity</div>
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Nor fear the heart of darkness</div>
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We will not lose our sense of Self</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
At these gates of transformation</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We need our Selves to live in!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We need our light to see by!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We need our hearts to love with!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We need our Selves to live in!</div>
heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-49200525353902629572020-03-04T10:12:00.001+00:002020-07-25T08:40:08.520+00:00March Diary<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
From an OU creative writing course:<o:p></o:p></div>
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Character Exercise<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>This time you should also make your character desire something, and make the desire their driving force. It will work best if you make whatever the character desires desirable in the reader’s eyes too. Think about why they can never have what they want. ‘Three Hours Between Planes’ is a good example of this.</i><span style="color: red;"> (Bizarre</span><i> </i><span style="color: red;">Short Story by F. Scott Fitzgerald)</span><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>By giving your character desires and disappointments you will see how this quickly develops potential stories.<o:p></o:p></i><br />
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Ian had been told that desire dies in your sixties. A therapist had told him that. A harsh featured middle aged woman with flat eyes and a fiercely hooked nose. Harsh featured Miriam-she of the great certainty.<o:p></o:p></div>
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‘One writer spoke of it as riding the wild stallion which is then tamed in later life. He spoke of it as a great relief.’ She opined.<o:p></o:p></div>
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‘It sounds to me like loss. The death of something. I would regret that.’<o:p></o:p></div>
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‘Yet here you are seeking an answer?’<o:p></o:p></div>
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‘Well explanation possibly…’<o:p></o:p></div>
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‘What then is it that you want of me Ian?’<o:p></o:p></div>
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For the first time he noted with some admiration the fierce outline of her breasts, her tight looked after body, her knees pressed together modestly. Her hands, he also noted, were shapely, the nails unpainted but carefully manicured. Her ears too were small, like pressed flowers. A forty something woman with a tight fit body and a harsh face with cold green eyes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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‘Well perhaps I should ask what you can offer me?’<o:p></o:p></div>
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She shifted in her chair-a slight discomfort appeared to have brushed her like a chill breeze. She cradled her chin, somewhat hastily, and then dropped her hand back into her lap.<o:p></o:p></div>
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‘Who was the writer, the one that said that about the stallion?’<o:p></o:p></div>
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'I’m afraid I can’t remember’ Miriam said, ‘sorry.’<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #202020; font-family: "source sans pro" , sans-serif;">4.3.20: From blurb on the next Paris Review publication: Ideas of transformation, death, and the taboo appear again and again in this issue, from Senaa Ahmad’s electrifying take on the death of Anne Boleyn in “</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://theparisreview.us17.list-manage.com/track/click?u=b6c161007733f0d4c084f3fde&id=3b557ebd92&e=6edbfec7a2" target="_blank"><b><span style="background: white; color: #8db266; font-family: "source sans pro" , sans-serif;">Let’s Play Dead</span></b></a></span><span style="background: white; color: #202020; font-family: "source sans pro" , sans-serif;">” to the literal transmogrification in Jesse Ball’s “</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://theparisreview.us17.list-manage.com/track/click?u=b6c161007733f0d4c084f3fde&id=9bb3f357d0&e=6edbfec7a2" target="_blank"><b><span style="background: white; color: #8db266; font-family: "source sans pro" , sans-serif;">Diary of a Country Mouse</span></b></a></span><span style="background: white; color: #202020; font-family: "source sans pro" , sans-serif;">” and Jayanta Mahapatra and Billy Collins’s respective poems on the deaths of friends, “</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://theparisreview.us17.list-manage.com/track/click?u=b6c161007733f0d4c084f3fde&id=f153f1071b&e=6edbfec7a2" target="_blank"><b><span style="background: white; color: #8db266; font-family: "source sans pro" , sans-serif;">After the Death of a Friend</span></b></a></span><span style="background: white; color: #202020; font-family: "source sans pro" , sans-serif;">” and “</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://theparisreview.us17.list-manage.com/track/click?u=b6c161007733f0d4c084f3fde&id=b9549b42c7&e=6edbfec7a2" target="_blank"><b><span style="background: white; color: #8db266; font-family: "source sans pro" , sans-serif;">On the Deaths of Friends</span></b></a></span><span style="background: white; color: #202020; font-family: "source sans pro" , sans-serif;">.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #202020; font-family: "source sans pro" , sans-serif;">The video game creations of Hideo Kojima and the nature of his new game ‘Death Stranding.’ (Stranding derived from mass whale stranding incidents and their inherent mystery.) Ref: ‘A mind forever voyaging’ by Dylan Holmes/ ‘Hamlet on the holodeck’ by Janet Holmes. Article by Andrew Chen NY Times briefing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<ul>
<li><span style="background: white; color: #202020; font-family: "source sans pro" , sans-serif;">The new cookbook for Diana Henry ‘From the oven to the Table’. Chicken Thighs Forever. The actual sub-title of one of the chapters!</span></li>
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<li><span style="background: white; color: #202020; font-family: "source sans pro" , sans-serif;">The Fibonacci sequence. Explore the inherent nature of symmetry and the Golden Mean.</span></li>
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<li><span style="background: white; color: #202020; font-family: "source sans pro" , sans-serif;">Coronavirus provides respite for the planet from ceaseless human-bullshit producing activity. Mobility is bad (except for me)</span></li>
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<li><span style="background: white; color: #202020; font-family: "source sans pro" , sans-serif;">QUOTE: This is so true!</span></li>
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<h1 class="iy iz ez ar aq ja fb jb fd jc jd je jf jg jh ji jj" data-selectable-paragraph="" id="6413" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.84); font-size: 34px; letter-spacing: -0.022em; line-height: 1.12; margin: 1.25em 0px -0.28em;">
We know how much we don’t know</h1>
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<li style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div class="hf hg ez ar hh b hi jk hk jl hm jm ho jn hq jo hs er" data-selectable-paragraph="" id="9103" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.84); font-family: medium-content-serif-font, Georgia, Cambria, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 21px; letter-spacing: -0.004em; line-height: 1.58; margin-bottom: -0.46em; margin-top: 0.86em; word-break: break-word;">
Have you ever heard of the Dunning-Kruger Effect? If you haven’t come across the term before, you have definitely experienced the principle. It’s a psychological rule that states; it’s the most incompetent who are the most confident, while the intelligent ones doubt their own abilities. Put simply, dumb people are too dumb to know how dumb they are. Smart people are clever enough to know how much they don’t know. <a class="bo gt jp jq jr js" href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bertrand_Russell" rel="noopener nofollow" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-image: url("data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 0px calc(1em + 1px); background-repeat: repeat-x; background-size: 1px 1px; box-sizing: inherit; http: //www.w3.org/2000/svg\"><line x1=\"0\" y1=\"0\" x2=\"1\" y2=\"1\" stroke=\"rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.84)\" /></svg>"); text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">British philosopher Bertrand Russell</a> who first laid out the idea perhaps summed it up best: <mark class="pa pb kw" style="background-color: #f2f0f0; box-sizing: inherit; color: currentcolor; cursor: pointer;">“The trouble with the world is that the stupid are cocksure and the intelligent are full of doubt.”</mark> Basically, all of us have a pretty lousy grasp of the limits of our own competence one way or another.</div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<li><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 16px;">Hopper, Elizabeth. "What Is the Dunning-Kruger Effect?" ThoughtCo, Feb. 11, 2020, thoughtco.com/dunning-kruger-effect-4157431.</span></span></li>
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<b>Anne Lamott (From the Brainpickings Website) On Writer's Purpose:</b> 'We try to help where we can, and try to survive our own trials and stresses, illnesses and elections. We work really hard at not being driven crazy by noise and speed and extremely annoying people, whose names we are too polite to mention. We try not to be tripped up by major global sadness, difficulties in our families or the death of old pets…</div>
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We work hard, we enjoy life as we can, we endure. We try to help ourselves and one another. We try to be more present and less petty. Some days go better than others. We look for solace in nature and art and maybe, if we are lucky, the quiet satisfaction of our homes…</div>
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We’re social, tribal, musical animals, walking percussion instruments. Most of us do the best we can. We show up. We strive for gratitude, and try not to be such babies.</div>
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And then there’s a mass shooting, a nuclear plant melts down, just as a niece is born, or as you find love. The world is coming to an end. I hate that. In environmental ways, it’s true, and in existential ways, it has been since the day each of us was born.'</div>
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<b>WHAT MUSIC AM I LISTENING TO?</b>: 'Become Desert' John Luther Adams (Lovely ambient bellscape-excellent for writing to!) Persuasive evidence for Biophilia.</div>
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<b>BLOG OF THE MONTH</b>: Tyler Cowen 'Conversations with Tyler' Mercator Centre. The best interviewer I've heard across a staggering range of subjects. Always considered, intelligent and challenging. Also see his sonnet-like turn at the end of his interview on The Tim Ferris Show recently.</div>
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<b>READING</b>: 'Arctic Dreams' by Barry Lopez Poetic. Passionate. Tremendously moving writing on the nature of the Arctic World. Its animals, people, interlopers, abusive extractors and its meaning with its mystical magical wind sculpted ice-scape. Outstanding!</div>
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<b>FINNEGAN'S WAKE</b> by James Joyce: Has got me again! Diving in from Mon 16th March. Maybe away for a while! I will be posting updates.</div>
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<b>TED GIOIA</b>: Gentle reader if you have any desire to educate yourself truly in the ways of music then please absorb the contents of the wonderful <b>Ted Gioia's </b>blog post on The Best Music of 2019 <a href="http://www.tedgioia.com/bestalbumsof2019.html">http://www.tedgioia.com/bestalbumsof2019.html</a> This is a true gift from Ted to the World, and will furnish your musical education for the next 12 months and beyond!</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #595959;">FROM </span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: magenta;">THE</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #595959;"> </span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: magenta;"><b>BOOK OF THREE RINGS</b> </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #595959;">BY ABRAXAS MELONJACKER:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 37.3333px;">She seizes him in her white arms!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 37.3333px;">Her breasts are stirred and flecked!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 37.3333px;">She lands on him like Zeus on Leda!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 37.3333px;">The red skeins in her hair weave tales<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 37.3333px;">of wildness and of chaos.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 37.3333px;">The sea is sounding in his shell!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5733542395194695896.post-70057966092572634702020-02-16T14:39:00.002+00:002020-02-16T14:56:00.578+00:00THE FEBRUARY FLOODS-A WARNING FROM GEORGE MONBIOT<div style="margin: 1em 0 3px 0;">
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<a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.monbiot.com/2020/02/15/washout/&source=gmail&ust=1581949572048000&usg=AFQjCNFXHO1s0L-X6zCS_y3xPBxvafneWw" href="https://www.monbiot.com/2020/02/15/washout/" name="m_7309699696216994733_1" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 18px;" target="_blank">Washout</a>
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Posted: 15 Feb 2020 05:05 AM PST</div>
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Despite
growing awareness, our government still allows landowners to help flood the homes
of people living downstream. <br />
<span id="m_7309699696216994733more-5412"></span>
By <b>George
Monbiot</b>, published in the Guardian 12<sup>th</sup> February 2020<br />
<br />
<br />
On Friday,
campaigners in Calderdale, West Yorkshire <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://stoptheshoot.com/2020/02/10/government-urged-to-deliver-moorland-burning-ban-following-yorkshire-floods/&source=gmail&ust=1581949572048000&usg=AFQjCNEKE2I5lIMGADIUmYCB9PBlSPOWpQ" href="https://stoptheshoot.com/2020/02/10/government-urged-to-deliver-moorland-burning-ban-following-yorkshire-floods/" target="_blank">issued an urgent warning</a>. The peat
bogs in the hills that drain into their valley were burning. The fires had been
set by gamekeepers working for a grouse shooting estate. Burning peatlands, <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://agupubs.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1002/2014WR016782&source=gmail&ust=1581949572048000&usg=AFQjCNFbuKXkjuo72Rxrc7NFsOKVrMmoQQ" href="https://agupubs.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1002/2014WR016782" target="_blank">research suggests</a>, is
likely to exacerbate floods downstream. Towns in the Calder Valley, such as
Todmorden, Hebden Bridge and Mytholmroyd have been flooded repeatedly, partly, <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://www.energyroyd.org.uk/archives/16358&source=gmail&ust=1581949572048000&usg=AFQjCNGCsPGXkafPVjY4uhl0b81eAE95Fw" href="http://www.energyroyd.org.uk/archives/16358" target="_blank">local people argue</a>, because the upper catchment is able to hold
back little of the rain that falls on it. On Sunday, Storm Ciara landed in the
UK. The River Calder rose higher than it had <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.examinerlive.co.uk/news/west-yorkshire-news/river-calder-reaches-record-highest-17717740&source=gmail&ust=1581949572049000&usg=AFQjCNFH8ZXO4hbugNUuIDnndDZx2KWBPg" href="https://www.examinerlive.co.uk/news/west-yorkshire-news/river-calder-reaches-record-highest-17717740" target="_blank">ever done before</a>, and
Todmorden, Hebden Bridge and Mytholmroyd duly flooded.<br />
The following
day, the UK’s diaphanous environment secretary, Theresa Villiers, <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.gov.uk/government/speeches/environment-secretary-statement-on-flooding-and-storm-ciara&source=gmail&ust=1581949572049000&usg=AFQjCNE_ONcibd11TwW-GBMyYgpM-oxiGA" href="https://www.gov.uk/government/speeches/environment-secretary-statement-on-flooding-and-storm-ciara" target="_blank">made a statement</a> in the
House of Commons expressing her “support and sympathy to all those whose
homes or businesses have been flooded over the weekend.” She assured the house
that “every effort is being made to keep people safe”. But she said nothing
about the land management that might have caused the flood.<br />
Last year, <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2589915518300063&source=gmail&ust=1581949572049000&usg=AFQjCNESE7vhB5xalgArTMvMPEOP1g-HDQ" href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2589915518300063" target="_blank">a paper published</a>
in the <i>Journal of Hydrology X</i> reported
experiments conducted in another part of the Pennines, the range in which
Calderdale is located. It found that when peat bogs are restored, deep
vegetation is allowed to recover and erosion gullies are blocked, water is held
back for longer in the hills, and peak flows in the streams draining them are
reduced. Broadly speaking, the rougher the surface, the less flooding downstream.
Burning moorland for grouse shooting reduces roughness and increases erosion. <br />
In October
<a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2019/oct/29/grouse-shooting-estates-face-ban-on-burning-of-peat-bogs&source=gmail&ust=1581949572049000&usg=AFQjCNGFCmG6_65NS8B1myPkQBlm5m52jg" href="https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2019/oct/29/grouse-shooting-estates-face-ban-on-burning-of-peat-bogs" target="_blank">the government announced</a> that, as
landowners had failed to stop burning their peatlands voluntarily, it would
introduce legislation to ban the practice “in due course”. Since then, there
has been not a squeak. As Villiers dispensed sympathy on Monday, she failed to
mention it.<br />
There’s a
long and bizarre history here. The fires recorded by the Calder Valley
campaigners on Friday were burning on Walshaw Moor, a 6500-acre grouse shooting
estate that belongs to the well-connected inheritor of a retail empire, Richard
Bannister. After he bought it, burning and draining on the moor intensified.
Burning and draining raise the abundance of red grouse, while reducing the
abundance of many other species. Shooting grouse is one of the world’s most
exclusive bloodsports: where their numbers are high, very rich people pay
thousands of pounds a day to kill them.<br />
In 2011, the government agency Natural England launched an almost
unprecedented prosecution. It charged the Walshaw Moor estate with 45 offences
relating to its intensification of management for grouse shooting (the estate
denied them). Natural England spent £1 million on the case, then <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/dec/29/deluge-farmers-flood-grouse-moor-drain-land&source=gmail&ust=1581949572049000&usg=AFQjCNEVlKrHccffbuYYmSBUkE4Nwvcw8A" href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/dec/29/deluge-farmers-flood-grouse-moor-drain-land" target="_blank">suddenly dropped it</a>. Instead, it channelled £2.5 million of enhanced farm subsidies to the
estate. <a href="https://www.blogger.com/null">Freedom of information requests </a><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://markavery.info/2012/07/16/wuthering-moors-23/&source=gmail&ust=1581949572049000&usg=AFQjCNFpNO32IcS-dw7a7EBdXOSSgDkfaA" href="https://markavery.info/2012/07/16/wuthering-moors-23/" target="_blank">were refused</a>, so we have no means of
understanding this decision. The burning continues, regardless of the warnings
of those downstream. When I phoned Bannister’s office to ask about these
issues, I was told: “We don’t wish to comment.”<br />
Since 2014, when I first wrote about how government policies <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2014/jan/13/flooding-public-spending-britain-europe-policies-homes&source=gmail&ust=1581949572049000&usg=AFQjCNEtxXUmThRdCVZsiD_XneEVUpGPlg" href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2014/jan/13/flooding-public-spending-britain-europe-policies-homes" target="_blank">exacerbate flooding</a>, there has been a major shift in awareness. In and out of government,
there’s a growing realisation that impeding the flow of water off the land,
de-synchronising flood peaks in the tributaries and slowing a river’s pace can
reduce flooding downstream, saving lives, homes and infrastructure. <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://royalsocietypublishing.org/doi/pdf/10.1098/rspa.2016.0706&source=gmail&ust=1581949572049000&usg=AFQjCNFUjjfDLE-Q_D9exEcuUFs00oF-YQ" href="https://royalsocietypublishing.org/doi/pdf/10.1098/rspa.2016.0706" target="_blank">Not every experiment</a> in natural flood management succeeds. The evidence base is still small. <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://nora.nerc.ac.uk/id/eprint/517804/&source=gmail&ust=1581949572049000&usg=AFQjCNFMjAz-8Bulo8t2U3ou9bD333OcRw" href="http://nora.nerc.ac.uk/id/eprint/517804/" target="_blank">More research is needed</a> to discover exactly what works and what
doesn’t. But, in some circumstances, ecological restoration can make a major
difference, at a fraction of the cost of hard engineering. <br />
One paper <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1002/esp.3919&source=gmail&ust=1581949572049000&usg=AFQjCNEdTAp2hyw1utN1-waC2qvYlW7p_g" href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1002/esp.3919" target="_blank">suggests that</a> reforesting between 20 and 40% of a catchment can reduce the height of floods
by 19%. Leaky wooden dams embedded in streams, and other low-tech measures,
appear to have prevented disasters <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-york-north-yorkshire-36029197&source=gmail&ust=1581949572049000&usg=AFQjCNHgrpVPeAw8ARCJxBtDKlqqPa9-5Q" href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-york-north-yorkshire-36029197" target="_blank">at Pickering </a>in North Yorkshire and <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2016/nov/22/natural-flood-protection-defends-homes-against-storm-angus&source=gmail&ust=1581949572049000&usg=AFQjCNF52fzo2YjyCZ93KRwtZPbCjZmJRQ" href="https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2016/nov/22/natural-flood-protection-defends-homes-against-storm-angus" target="_blank">Bossington and Allerford</a> in Somerset. It’s even cheaper if you use non-human labour. Where
beavers are reintroduced, their dams <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2019/nov/20/beavers-to-be-released-in-plan-to-ease-flooding-and-aid-biodiversity&source=gmail&ust=1581949572049000&usg=AFQjCNGihnNx4aHUCn2R_NiyaluPhel72Q" href="https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2019/nov/20/beavers-to-be-released-in-plan-to-ease-flooding-and-aid-biodiversity" target="_blank">slow the flow</a> and trap sediments.<br />
But in
most parts of the country, the First World War mentality – sustaining the
policy even when it proves disastrous – prevails. In some places, water flows
are controlled by bodies called Internal Drainage Boards. Though these are
official agencies, they don’t appear to be answerable to any government
department. While largely funded by council tax payers, they tend to be
dominated by landowners. Some members appear to have inherited their positions
from their fathers and grandfathers. Many of these boards seem interested only
in speeding water off farmland (including farmland belonging to their members),
regardless of the impact on urban pinchpoints downstream. They dredge,
straighten and embank rivers, trashing wildlife and <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/dec/29/deluge-farmers-flood-grouse-moor-drain-land&source=gmail&ust=1581949572049000&usg=AFQjCNEVlKrHccffbuYYmSBUkE4Nwvcw8A" href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/dec/29/deluge-farmers-flood-grouse-moor-drain-land" target="_blank">rushing water towards cities</a> lower in
the catchment. Any government that takes flooding seriously would immediately
dissolve these boards and replace them with accountable bodies.<br />
Every
year, Network Rail spends £200 million on hard engineering to protect its
lines. When I suggested it might<i> pay farmers to invest in natural flood
management in the surrounding hills, it told me, “</i>we are unable to strike deals with farmers or land
owners, to pay for work to be undertaken on 3rd party property”. Shouldn’t
changing this policy be an urgent priority?<br />
Power relations in the British countryside are still <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2019/may/01/britain-countryside-bullies-chris-packham&source=gmail&ust=1581949572049000&usg=AFQjCNEGzHkOQQ8XG3-tsK6E9ZA_8qM-WA" href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2019/may/01/britain-countryside-bullies-chris-packham" target="_blank">almost feudal</a>.
Vast tracts of land are owned by small numbers of people, who are
permitted to manage it with little regard for the lives and homes of the
less elevated people downstream. The environment secretary, a scion of
one of Britain’s grandest landed families, offers her thoughts and
prayers. I’m sure they are appreciated. But we need action.<br />
<a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://www.monbiot.com&source=gmail&ust=1581949572049000&usg=AFQjCNE0gFuq2i8z9WYk2OAiobnia-ygYQ" href="http://www.monbiot.com/" target="_blank">www.monbiot.com</a></div>
heartofbalancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18427269778599802068noreply@blogger.com0