Sunday, 6 December 2020
Belief is fuel
Assumptions: the seeds of social cancers
The cancer for me are assumptions like "there is little anyone can do to stop it".
Once that assumption is accepted by someone it becomes fact. And that fact then manifests itself as an action, which in turn becomes a behaviour which is ultimately still based on only an assumption.
Finally this assumption driven behaviour which by this point has through rehearsal and habit turned into a mentality, is eventually what gets referred to as being "a cancer".
Tuesday, 3 November 2020
Writing about moods from being in a place or space
Sunday, 1 November 2020
Parody
Convincing a population that parody isn't a form of affirmation at all, but in fact an incisive satirical weapon, which if wielded correctly can deliver a mortal blow to Power - is one of the more impressive feats Power has achieved in recent times
Sunday, 20 September 2020
Tickling
I can't ever imagine asking to be tickled. The physiological response from a good tickle makes it problematic in 2020. It'll probably be banned as societies gradually become even more inept at nuanced behaviours which reside in the grey areas.
The growing trend is that we all feel that we have to act according to absolutes in order to not be misinterpreted or taken out of context, which is so sad as it causes the world to inexorably become ossified and rigid in the number of potential ways it is willing to communicate with itself.
The best tickling I remember involved the interplay of me saying no while simultaneously enjoying the exciting physiological sensation writhing throughout my body. But it was an illusion that I wasn't in control of the limits of me being tickled. I was in total control all throughout.
For me, good healthy tickling is dependent upon a relationship of trust and understanding between two people first. Strangers who know nothing of each other should never just dive in armed with only their assumptions about how the other ought to or should react. Such thoughtless ticklers need a good slap across the chops.
Friday, 21 August 2020
Seagulls
When the wind blows so hard from one direction that the neighbours parasols and gazebos have started socialising, I think about the nearby seagulls venturing out for food morsels.
Leaving the nests they built for the families they're raising - and how it seems so unfair that they should have to fly into town at 100mph because the winds are jet packs that won't take no for an answer - often causing the poor sods to overshoot their intended destinations by several villages.
And eventually will come the ordeal of navigating the return flight. Battling to carve a path through unseen air forces that refuse to relent - that howl and whistle tunelessly in your ears the whole way whilst capping your max air speed to a slug-like 1mph so that fleeting visions of never reaching home already have rendered you spent.😥
Ye blasted winds! May I yet find a way to smite thee with my potent droppings!
I continue to flail in the big grey, hovering in the air with half a dead worm in my beak... to-ing and fro-ing seemingly without purpose like my wings were attached to thin sticks crudely handled by the junior stage hand who sits in the rafters.