Dear diary ...

It's been a while.

Childhood was far too full-on to write.
Parents busy with work.
Feeding us, clothing us, ensuring we washed occasionally.
Especially hands after pooing.
Smacked us to teach us respect.
Never did me any harm.
Teachers did it too. They had rulers, canes and other weapons.
It was legal then.

When we escaped from lessons we wandered about the neighbourhood, causing mischief and having fun.
Any passing neighbour felt free to chastise us.
We knew what we'd get if they told our parents.
Went home for food, emergency treatment for splinters, cuts and grazes.
Then out again in Sun and rain.
We didn't have much, but we were all in the same boat.
Thought it was normal.

We had a wireless but no T.V.
That came later.
Kids these days don't know they're born.
They seem to walk around with tellies in their pockets!
Still, the ones round here are kind enough.
Wave at the window.
It's better than nothing.

Teenage years were trickier.
In 62 things got very tense.
I remember well where I was then.
Not just because I first wrote to you at that time.
I was worried, we all were.
The Russians had put missiles on Cuba and the Americans didn't like it.
At all.
JFK was President then.
We liked him. Some Americans didn't. Killed him. That was later.
He told Khruschev to back off. Or else.
Khrushchev knew he meant it.
They had already dropped two Bombs on cities at the end of the War against Fascism.
He retreated.
Phew!

There were other things to be worried about through the years, jobs, marriages, health scares.
Personal crises. I wrote out the fears then too. It helped.

In the 60s America invaded Vietnam.
Luckily for us Harold Wilson kept out of it.
Thousands of young Yanks were traumatised. Still are, though no longer young.
Nixon planned to use the Bomb.
Wiser heads kept him away from the button.
Legal action persuaded him to resign.
Phew!
Though we never knew about the Bomb.

Life was mostly peaceful, unless you were in the Defence Forces.
Not sure why they say defence when it was mostly attack of other countries.
Ulster was ours, though that was Civil War.
Plenty of friends of mine were traumatised there. Still are.

The Miners' strike of 84-5 was a crisis round here.
More action meant less worrying in a way.
The consequences of the defeat are still felt.
Though few miners wished their sons to go down the pit.
Dangerous work, and dirty.

In 2008 there was a crisis. My money was threatened by banks failing.
You remember I wrote the fears out then.
Drug fuelled young men making crazy bets in the casino they call Stock Exchange.
Banks lending easy money to folks to buy houses they couldn't afford.
Same in the States.
The money system crashed.

New Labour found themselves holding the ring.
Gordon Brown took firm action.
Printed lots of money and gave it to the Banks, slapped their wrists and told them not to do it again. They did though. Addicted to money.

The voters gave the Tories the job of repairing the public finances by squeezing the poor and not so poor. The rich folks did alright, luckily for them.

NHS not so much, but that revered institution had other problems too. New Labour had had a go at that, and Thatcher and Major before.

Now all parties love it!

Funny old world.

This crisis is unprecedented in my lifetime. Pretty much of the whole world got caught up in it.
Experts say it's very infectious but not as lethal a previous ones.

Like T.B.

They had two isolation hospitals in the Dale then. Proper quarantine.

Anyway dear diary, I have been writing a lot lately, as you know.
It really helps with the fear.
I spent so much time researching and writing these memories that I forgot to listen to the news.
That really helped.
Now a confession. I heard that Stay Indoors, Stay Safe, Do it for the NHS, didn't mean we couldn't go outdoors. Experts said some Sun was good for us. Even old people like me.
The other day was very sunny and I went out, up the Dene through the woods. Trees were leaving, primroses and wild garlic flowering, other flowers too. The fear lifted some more.
Out of the woods along the quarry road and up the Velvet Path was just wonderful. At the top I could really see the wood from the trees. The whole Dale westwards too. Glorious.
I met some locals up there. Stopped for a chat. The fear lifted a little more.
Back home, I had no appetite for the noise from the media, stirring up arguments about who was to blame for whatever. How many people were dying, where in the world, where in the country. I found out from folks who knew who had passed and from what.

Of course I'm cautious, I'm not reckless.
Some have died round here, including young fit folks from viral load.
Many people have good reason for fear, for themselves and loved ones.

Aware of that, mind turns to afterwards, sooner rather than later hopefully. Experts disagree about when, politicians too.
Still it helps to imagine what we want to take away from the crisis and radical change will emerge.
My idea is based on "Think Global, Act Local" ... pay attention where we can be most effective.

And if you gave me one wish to the P.M., maybe this: Sort out the scandalous pay and conditions of the carers, in Care Homes and the ones visiting the lonely and most vulnerable in their own homes. Forget medals, just bloody treat them decently.

Question everything. Be kind.

The Leader Returns!

Good timing for yesterday's post, released very early into the Weardalosphere and beyond via the fast moving Facebook. It is getting some traction, raising some questions and, thus amplified, perhaps even coming to the attention of the M.P. Not that that was the point, or in any expectation of the M.P. bringing it to the attention of the returning leader after his long convalescence, leaving the nightmare in the competent hands of his top team. Now he can loosen things up and play the good guy. It will take a few weeks of loosening up, but the Boss is on it. Trust him.

I spend early morning wanders over the fells in the Sun talking to sheep and their new born lambs. I find the discourse more intelligent. The script is increasingly unlikely.

Still curious to see how this crisis is playing out internationally and all levels. Including cosmic.
Weird stuff pops up increasingly. How are all the players in all the countries engaged, which is most of them, following scripts, with draconian measures varying in the severity according to cultural expectations? How are huge countries with tiny numbers of deaths attributed to this virus piling into the fray? India, with half a person per million is creating more deaths by forcing slum dwellers to stay indoors and preventing them escaping to their villages away from the overcrowded fetid streets ... while the likely source is rich folks flying in with the bug.

What came first, the virus or the fear?

Weirder ... passing along a street in the village, I was hailed by a woman I hadn't seen for a few years ... she had told me then that she had the gift of seeing and saw a Michael on my shoulder. A few years before that, in Newcastle, a woman who had the gift of seeing angels, had read the cards and drawn St Michael as Guardian Angel ... which prompted me to explain what or who the first one might be seeing. So, in the latest conversation, she confirmed that Michael was still there ... not that I take it too seriously, but there it is ... the warrior Archangel, going into battle with sword and whatnot, not the most peaceful image, but the warrior spirit is here, albeit with writing rather than slaying.

Tia update: a kind friend with medical knowledge risked her life from a virus by breaching the 2m rule radically to examine the barely visible swelling in the groin. The suggestion was hernia, possibly caused by the recent exertions in the woodlands. Nothing noted at the time, but there was a tricky task pulling a fallen tree out of a ravine. Whilst less exotic as a story, it does trigger memories of childhood fascination with the not uncommon sight of older men sporting huge lumps ... it was called a rupture then. Let's see how that goes, but currently of no concern.

Life seems to be getting more and more interesting. .. lack of attention to the Fear news is possibly rather irresponsible, but there is hopefully enough information to aware without drowning in the detail.

The usual suspects are already planning how to pick up the old agendas, more sensible capitalists are looking for more radical change to preserve their power without crashing the economy again, others seeking more equality, some wanting to reduce consumption of finite resources. There is a more radical movement building for whole systems change. Best get cracking, 'cos the beautiful new world won't create itself ...

An Open Letter to my M.P.

Dear Mr Holden,

I am a resident of Weardale.
I wasn't born here, but I live here now.
An incomer like you!
I can't think of anywhere better to be at this time.
The people are direct and independent minded.
The neighbours are very kind, and others in the village too.
To be honest I have had more and deeper conversations than ever before.

I was born in a cottage hospital in the New Forest 5 years after the War, when we battled against the odds to preserve our democratic rights against fascism.

The route from there to here is long and tortuous and not pertinent to this letter.

Six years ago I was lucky enough to be part of a well-loved project in the Dale.

Since we had a community transport operation at the Hub, volunteer minibus drivers, passenger assistants and organisers, we decided to find group rates from nearby and (further afield) restaurants  and invite residents of all ages to lunch, with door-to-door transport provided. Take up was enthusiastic and mostly from the elders. They asked about assisted shopping, so we did that.
Trips to cinema and theatres? That too. Two or three trips each week were the norm. Some said it transformed their lives.

Some died each year, mostly content to pass, having enjoyed their final years.
Some, with pre-existing conditions, had episodes on the trip.
Some had DNR forms with them.
They were happy to risk it for the sake of the company.
It was really about loneliness anyway, the food, whilst better and fresher than some of the factory produced alternatives, was secondary.

Then came the virus and the Fear.
The operation stopped.
The elders were instructed to go indoors and stay there for their own safety.
No hugs from children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren or anyone.

Nobody consulted them. Nobody offered them a choice.

Cruel.

More than that: Cruel and unusual punishment of the most vulnerable, respected members of the community.

I am not angry. It goes far deeper than that. It's an outrage.

It's not for me to speak for them. Ask them for yourself. You are their only route to Whitehall.

My request is for some answers from the cabinet, struggling to amend the new law on the hoof, in response to the changing situation. I hear the P.M. is due back from sick leave soon. Please ask him. He knows about democracy from the ancient Greeks.

I don't keep a T.V. and don't listen to the wireless much, but heard a passionate warning from Lord Sumption, retired Supreme Court Justice, who saw us slipping into a police state.

I have more confidence in the Police Force in these parts. I knew their senior officers well enough and found them highly intelligent and compassionate. They know that a heavy hand now will take years to repair. Though a recent bulletin did advise us to reduce nuisance calls to 999 ...  petty calls about neighbours' behaviour, like being outside more than deemed legal. Fear driven. Unlikely to derive from the Dale, but you never know.

So, in conclusion, since time is short, please speak up in support of the elders, who have shown me so much love these past few years.

Not for me, not even for them, but for their children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, who inherit what we leave them.

Sincerely,

Steve Day
Stanhope
Weardale.

Question everything. Be kind.

Good Friday ...

Picking up the post about Our NHS, as promised, let's make it personal again .... starting in 1950, a handy year to be born, since it is not just a new decade, making sums easier, but also a half-century marker ... and more or less the date the Attlee Government of Socialists thanked Churchill for his service and embarked on wholesale reforms ... including Nationalising Utilities and things essential to capitalist enterprises, at that time undercapitalised ... our cherished National Health Service was devised to ensure healthy workers and soldiers, though it was rather more a National Illness Service, since Public Health played second fiddle, not least because the Doctor class required lots of cash to persuade them to sign up, whilst the working class was delighted to pay their National Insurance stamp to ensure free healthcare and support when between jobs.

All this worked well for a decade or two, as the economy thrived, trade unions flourished, some workers took long breaks when work didn't suit them, Doctors found huge opportunities in Our NHS, not least the terrific support they enjoyed from the corporations researching, manufacturing and marketing their magic potions ... week long seminars in the Bahamas, with plenty of time for golf, were not unknown, all expenses paid and other benefits ... whilst holistic health languished and specialisms flourished, with large salaries to augment private practice ...

And so, as happens with any organisation, decay sets in from every angle. Our NHS grew like a cancer along with the Trade Unions with their needs separate from the needs of the members they represented ... whilst public health improvements environmentally, like slum clearance, cleaner air to breathe and water to drink, sewage more or less dispersed to deprive deadly diseases of a breeding ground, were obviously correlated with modern medical solutions ... though better marketing denied any causal link to their detriment ... some say the converse is true, of course but that's hypothesis and well worth exploring when iatrogenesis is known to be a major killer shh!
N.B. iatrogenesis: the unintended consequences of treatments and procedures from physicians and surgeons which cause harm to patients. This includes adverse reaction to drugs.

Obviously if the treatment and the drug were known to be dangerous, then criminal negligence cases should follow. Vaccination for example, was developed and deployed using the insight of "like cures like", which often worked to stimulate the organism to produce antibodies to the target disease. Homeopathy achieved similar results with medicines so dilute that all that was left was the memory of the dangerous disease in the water. This didn't suit the bottom line of the drug companies, who funded studies finding homeopathic remedies useless and therefore the regulatory bodies banned them. NICE! The other breakthrough for dividends was banning inert and harmless treatments which worked as Placebo, but only if the Doctor lied and claimed it was very effective ... and so the scam goes on ...

Meanwhile, the Thatcher of Grantham arrived on the scene to dismantle the Welfare State undermine the Unions and let capitalism rip through Our NHS in a brutal revolution called Neo-Liberalism ... Scargill and the coal miners fought a symbolic battle for more than a year to defend their hard won rights, to no avail ... and every Prime Minister from Tory, New Labour, to Coalition and back to Tory again followed suit.

Frankly, Our NHS is neither ours nor a National Health Service, as different departments were flogged off to the highest bidder, and here we are today, clapping madly and queuing for untested vaccines already producing adverse reactions and deaths, whilst venal experts assure us that they're not just safe but necessary to save our grannies ... deception on a huge scale. Trials will follow, not only of the drugs but those held responsible and accountable ... not unlike Nuremberg from 70 years ago, more or less ...

Well, that's Good Friday's news so far folks. A long Bank Holiday for some, religious festival for others and for an old blogger, wondering what's Good about it from Jesus's point of view, just another day in Weardale ... with long walks and Hot Cross Buns ...

Nocebo

Nocebo may be described as the dark side of placebo, its better known scientifically validated effect, widely used as a control in experiments to test new drugs ... the efficacy needs to be better than placebo, which is to say, an inert substance (more later), to justify the risks of side effects in the rush to  profits for drug corporations and their shareholders.

Time is short and research scanty, so please allow a leap, not of blind faith, but beyond the drug trials ... how about the power of the mind to heal the body, and itself? Even a few compassionate words from a confident doctor might help.

So if that's placebo, the positive side, the nocebo, is the power of the mind to make us ill. ...
Such medical patients are known as the worried well. .. more cruelly, time wasters, technically somatised ... numbers depend on how you count them, but it is significant.

Important now because a lot of people round the world are very worried indeed, and possibly generating all sorts of unexplained symptoms. .. worried sick ?

This idea fits into a complex and evolving narrative and will be revisited when you have had a chance to do some research. Meanwhile, maybe just stopping the drip drip of fear generating propaganda, will improve mental health ... honest, money back guarantee.

Tia and I wish to share the latest news from the immune system, because some readers expressed concern about the reckless refusal to run to the doctor after what was likely a mini-stroke ... there was no pain and we decided to trust the immune system to address what was really a minor issue. We agreed to cooperate and not bash symptoms, but find causes then support Tia's intelligence to address the root ... it may have been the download of a radical upgrade to the left hemisphere of the brain, which is to say the calculating, measuring mind, very broadly speaking. Fizzy fingers on the right hand appeared to be discharging excess energy. Slurring of speech was noted when talking too fast ... a little numbness was observed in the mouth when in silence and when fizzing.

Symptoms settled down.

Having addressed the cool energy of the brain, Tia alerted us to a slight swelling in the groin, where the energy is hot, especially the sexual energy which often gets us into scrapes when handled without care. There was no pain, nor discomfort, but a rare visual inspection noted the swelling.
Hasty research offered plenty of information. Favourite was associated with the lymphatic system, specifically a lymph node. A brief tour around the area noted the cluttered plumbing, including urine, blood, seminal fluid, all interacting. A nearby candidate was identified as a long forgotten insult to the integrity of the organism ... voluntary surgery was performed shortly after the birth of second daughter. It was a known risk, but taking responsibility for contraception seemed fair enough when the Pill was showing side effects and other options for the female seemed less satisfactory ... the risk was not just the interruption of energy flow, but also loss of barrier protection. The spontaneity and sensation was prioritised over safety.
A quick visual inspection located the tiny scar on the scrotum, where the supply of sperm was cut off from the seminal fluid ... no idea where it went. The seminal fluid, meanwhile, wherever that is produced and stored, found its way to the penis, where it escaped during orgasm.

So far so good, and lymph nodes may have been swelling on and off for years as far as I know.

Fun times!

Things changed when the joys of celibacy arrived, around the time of Camino, nearly six years ago. There was no rule, since celibacy has to be voluntary to avoid suppression, it seems, and routine maintenance was carried out when the body gave signs in dreams ... and so we walked in silence, sometimes in company, for some years, until a pilgrim slowed me down on a trip from Coimbra, and we walked along to Santiago, sharing rooms, the sexual energy building, until the challenge to transmute the ancient energy in the monastery was overtaken by her distaste for youthful Catholicism and my lust.

Celibacy resumed, with routine maintenance, for a while longer, then gradually the energy fell away, which was liberating ... it was an attachment.
Research having pointed to a sexual component, we considered the swelling was associated with a build up of energy. As a precaution routine maintenance was performed, along with hot and cold showers and direct sunlight, and light massage. Currently, the swelling is more or less stable, as Tia gets to work.

Happy to report zero pain, zero fear and trust in the universe that all is well, as represented by the gentle, kind Tia, promoted from her original role those few weeks ago ...

The weather becomes exceptionally hot and sunny, with a light frost at dawn when the first walk over the fells enables appreciation of Nature, not separate, in full bloom ... Sun gazing boosts the batteries with a jolt. Don't try this at home, it's delicate work ... you could burn your retinas ...
For whatever reason, energy levels are high, the Resistance work requires it ... dangerous times and full of opportunity. Arundhati Roy steps up as a prophet for the time, Chris Larcombe steps up with a technological innovation built on the Holochain ... he last appeared in the blog some years ago, today I am moved to invest in his crowdfunder for the Holochain ... no idea what it's about, but he has my trust and always has ... check him out for yourself.

Scene and herd ...

If all the world really is a stage, as the sage said, or to be more precise, asked the melancholy Jacques to say in his play As You Like It, then this current wildly popular drama we are invited to participate in, as players, audience, critics ... many parts, is rich material indeed ...

Some may say: How callous to suggest the deaths from this deadly enemy internationally is somehow fictional, not real ... how dare you disrespect my fear, you offend me, make me very angry and shame on you ... are you crazy?

Maybe.

It is said: It is no sign of sanity to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society ...

Maybe that too ...

Some may say: Just because this earthly world of suffering and joy is mostly experienced as really real, is no proof that other levels of reality do not exist ...

A theatre critic might say: That was well played, a very convincing performance ... or not so good ... though the best of actors better not go home, showered with praise, still playing the part, convinced that the role is their reality. Therein lies madness.

A cynic might sneer at suffering souls playing their chosen roles too well ...

Insight without Compassion.

An empath might bleed for the suffering of the whole world.

Compassion without Insight.

So, what to do?

Retreat from the drama, rest in blissful ignorance? Safe enough, the option's in the script.

It's not a War, after all.

Use the opportunity to mine rich material to raise familiar roles to higher levels? Find comfort in confirmation from enthusiastic fellow travellers ... even to wilder realms of relative reality ... conspiracies from contemporary gods ... controllers from other galaxies?

Why not? Someone's to blame for this horror show you know.

And obviously it can't be me ...

Can it?

Question everything. Be kind.

Facts of Life

Facts are slippery customers. .. you might think they were "events or things known to have happened or existed" or "a truth verifiable from experience or observation" or "a piece of information" ... as Collins English Dictionary has it.

If only language was so precise in the war of words, where the word is commonly confused with the thing described. The map is not the territory and the menu is not the meal ... if you want to understand this problem, Alfred Korzybski's "General Semantics" may help ... his chilling assertion: If a psychiatric or scientific enquiry were to be made upon our rulers, mankind would be appalled at the disclosures ... is worth considering ... more accessible is Robert Anton Wilson on You Tube.

History, as is known by many historians, is usually written by the winners ... the powerful, or rather at the behest of the powerful, who have vested interests in certain narratives. Some victors' versions are questionable, some downright false.

At the quantum level it seems that what is observed depends on the observer.
Max Planck, pioneer of quantum physics,  is quoted as saying: When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change ...

David Bohm, one time Professor of Theoretical Physics at Birkbeck College, University of London, was so intrigued by the uncanny similarity between J.Krishnamurti's philosophical view "The observer is the observed" and the evidence from the famous double slit experiment, that he sought him out and spent many hours and days and years in dialogue with him, examining every topic in forensic detail ... one of their many conclusions, after examining thought itself, was that thought itself was limited.
The resulting book: The Limits of Thought, sits in the small library in the small cottage, where this is being written, alongside Quantum Theory, Bohm's classic textbook ... incomprehensible to this limited brain, but awaiting a wandering physicist or mathematician ... Wholeness and the Implicate Order is difficult, but almost within reach, along with Thought as a System ...

So, it's tricky, but not impossible, allowing that what we took as factual in constructing a world view, may turn out false, requiring a revision in line with a better fact, or a paradigm shift to a world view in line with the times, to make some progress.

There is another small problem ... that objective reality may not exist and that the relative reality is that each of the 7 billion people on the planet perceive the world uniquely through their own reality tunnels ... as Robert Anton Wilson called it ... clearly levels of group think vary ... highly individualist cultures like the BSA hold highly divergent views, tribal cultures less so.

Ultimate Reality is another question for another day and anyway will certainly not submit to thought, which is by definition limited.

Perhaps.

It's a lovely sunny spring day here in the North Pennines of England. A dry April so far, though plenty of time for snow yet. Lambing storms they call them.

Tia ...

Tia is a benign, feminine sounding name, for the central character in a small personal drama of recent days. The current crisis, you may have noticed, is giving rise to all sorts of dramas, stories ... most skipping any forensic examination of the veracity of the meta-drama and, fuelled by fear, seeking confirmation of our core beliefs through versions of familiar tales ...

To get to the point, for a change, following the theoretical assertion of an alternative to the allopathic approach to illness, the universe offered an opportunity for practice. Not to prove anything to anyone ... I am not a scientist, as any attentive reader will have noticed ... but to understand myself better.

If you want some philosophical justification for this apparent solipcism, Krishnamurti, one of my gurus, who warned against following gurus, asserted "You are the world, and the world is you".

Also, "It is no sign of sanity to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society".

As reported a while back, the astonishing reaction to the pandemic by many countries, including the DUK, energised this previously chilled part-time pilgrim into warrior mode ... the brain upped its game, deep conversations ensued with neighbours, friends and strangers ... the organism adjusted to cope with the increased blood flow required  for the brain. Maybe even an increased rate of rewiring to keep up.

The jumbled speech reported a couple of days ago was observed and processed as interesting and reminiscent of K's descriptions of brain pain in his Journal ... or maybe Notebook ... his was more serious and intense, though he didn't rush off to a doctor ... please don't infer that I am deluded enough to imagine myself as K ... and there was no pain in the brain.

Two readers got in touch very quickly. .. first my younger sister who pointed out her now deceased brother-in-law had reported a similar event, which turned out to be a stroke. Second was a recently retired nurse who said "TIA". Further research revealed that the acronym, translated into lay language, described "mini-stroke", which, like Tia, sounds harmless enough. Anyway, no fear was observed. The physiology described restricted blood flow through the carotid artery, possibly caused by a leak in the works. On their own, such events are not lethal, in fact maybe quite common as the very complex and plastic brain grows new bits and adapts things ... such activity has been observed in experiments with meditating monks, including Mathieu Ricard, the famous French scientist, friend of HHDL and author. Dr Paul Gilbert describes how parts of the brain associated with compassion are expanded by meditation.

Anyway, after processing the new information, it quickly became clear that this was no time to be bothering doctors. And certainly not visiting the hospitals where greater danger lurks ... how ironic if I died there in the tranquil surroundings of an ICU, with Corona Virus on the certificate!
Likely treatment to deal with symptoms is blood thinning agents, but those drugs have side effects and we are in the system. Thick blood is unlikely to be the problem anyway, since the organism is in fine physical and mental form ... albeit rather old.

Self-diagnosis suggests the overactive brain was the main cause ... the first response is to slow down, stop talking and listening so much ... see how that goes. And, as a change from silence, some Om Mani Padme Hum. ..

Stay tuned for developments. Tia and I will work it out together.

Our NHS

Apologies to any readers from outside the DUK. though the reputation of this NHS concept is widespread ... the envy of countries all round the world ... if countries, as concepts, can experience envy... or just to acknowledge the sincerely held belief of some folks that the world is not round at all, but flat ... certainly I can live my daily life quite happily as if it were flat ... and even more amazed at how the Sun sets at one edge and pops up later at the other ... on the Ways I am often amazed watching Sunrise and Sunset ... better than the telly even ... to be honest I, like most people at this historical time in this geographical place, believe the Earth is round(ish) ... science says so, astronauts observed it and so knowledge grows ... not so long ago, scientists risked their lives from a powerful church, or to be more accurate, powerful humans with their own agendas, to spread the round earth theory ... these days some scientists risk their reputations proposing theories outside the mainstream ... which does not make their theories right, or wrong ...

Anyway, Science is a sacred cow for another day ... focusing on one topic at a time is very challenging ... maybe through slackness, maybe because everything is interconnected. .. as seen through revelation, not any scientific endeavour.

Briefly, because time is short, OUR NHS was launched in 1948, as part of a Welfare State, a compassionate concept after the horrors of WW2 ... the voters had turned their back on the old warrior, Churchill, and elected a radical Labour government. Sceptics might say that the NHS, plus sick pay, retirement pensions and so on would be helpful for healthier soldiers if things kicked off again ... and that the nationalisation of utilities recapitalised the essential industries to support private enterprise ... there's the Marxist bias again ... notwithstanding, the radical reforms, to be paid from taxes and National Insurance, were pretty much considered a good thing. The medical establishment put up stern resistance to OUR NHS, but Nye Bevan "stuffed their mouths with gold" to persuade them. Later they developed ways to butter their bread on both sides. And, of course, many medical staff at all levels loved the concept and still do.

Political parties too. Politicians are not the most admired of us. Easy targets.

For a while OUR NHS was untouchable. The NHS changed and grew. And grew and grew.
Our clever medics found more and more ways to prolong and enhance our lives. Dodgy heart? Have another one! Dodgy joints? Routine. Symptoms of disease? We have a drug for that. Side effects from the drug? We have a drug for that too. Mum had a cocktail of around eight tablets in her last few years. .. maybe more. That's normal. Mostly treating symptoms.

The edifice tottered as corrupting drug corporations took over. Do your own research.

The beloved family doctor, or GP was and is the cornerstone of each community. All services free at the point of use. Most GPs don't work directly for the NHS, but in a Partnership. And there are four NHS organisations, one in each nation of the DUK. Still, Science progressed, and amazing new drugs were discovered and patented. New expensive kit become essential. Brain scanners.
Targets were set to address health inequalities. Amazingly, after much research, it was discovered that health inequalities were very strongly linked to social inequalities. Who would have thought it?
Targets were set. Longevity grew all round for a while, then recently dropped. Though not to narrow the social or health inequalities. On the contrary.

However, what does seem clear is that at some point the grey area between life and death was even further blurred, and much effort in health and social care went into prolonging death. Not through any evil intent ... I am not looking for conspiracies. .. but as a result, perhaps of the hypocritical oath itself, plus blame culture ...

Meanwhile, the complex organism which is a human evolves from rural to urban quite quickly, the environment fills with toxins from many sources, diets also ...the incredible immune system struggles to adapt to new challenges. .. sometimes it takes a while to deal with threats to the integrity of the organism ... it thrives on a relaxed mind, an optimal diet, fresh air and exercise and, as folk wisdom knows ... dirt ... it's exercise for the immune system.

So the suicidal attack on our defences through stress, junk foods, lack of life giving Sun energy and vitamin D, and antiseptic houses weakens us ... while well meaning early interventions to suppress symptoms in the allopathic orthodoxy mandated in OUR NHS leaves the immune system thinking it's no longer needed ...

There is certainly lots of money to be made out of the whole thing, but it's not necessarily a conspiracy ... in the end we may take responsibility for our own health ... with all the help from brilliant doctors and nurses, working with the wonderful personal physician, which is the immune system.

That's a long post for W&D, but a very short one for the topic.

And a very personal exploration of the question can wait for next time. ..maybe today, maybe tomorrow. .. but rest assured, all is well, whatever happens.

The thick plotens ...

Well, that's Easter over ... the brave leader of the DUK, having endured the suffering of a trip to our marvellous NHS, miraculously rose from the dead in perfect timing on Sunday. Some people seem to believe it, such is the depth of the delusion delivered daily with the drip drip of endlessly repeated content free phrases.

Or maybe I am the deluded one and indoors really is the safest place and going out is dangerous, not just for the reckless escapees, but also for those loyally complying with the law, not just in the spirit, but the letter, as overheard from the rather sinister acting PM, D.Raab. The story is tightly told to trap us into easy acceptance of the loss of freedom unimaginable a month ago. Worse still, the prisoners demand tighter restrictions, such is the fear. It's a Brave New World indeed.

Younger sister writes with Easter greetings and offers new facts to clean up our shared story ... Mum was not one of 12, as guessed by the slack writer, but 8. Still a lot, but a 25% error is lotter. .. trying that new word out and looking forward to hearing whether it works for you dear reader.
Dad, meanwhile, told Judith how he came to join the Army Medical Corps ... maybe not avoiding killing so much as being killed. If he had been you wouldn't be reading this story, imagine that!

Time to shoot some sacred cows ...

Readers may have observed a political back story from the left ... think Saint Jeremy and keep going ... to be honest I still struggle to listen to Tories dispassionately, let alone compassionately. My FB friends are consciously recruited for diversity. People's strongly held opinions are worth observing ... without judgement, though not without discernment. One of the crew was extremely vegan, disparaging corpse munchers scornfully. Let's call him Tony. Recently he was reborn as a carnivore and strongly critical of veganism. A man with strongly held opinions. Possibly anger issues. Others are passionate fans of Trump. Not all rednecks. Some cite their hero, the previous president. In fact he has a whole story wrapped in his name - Obamacare. .. clever and, like Trump's catchphrase, Make America Great Again, mostly content-free ... Stay Indoors, Stay Safe is a current version, sometimes abbreviated to Stay Safe ... since this particular phrase is leading to such danger it has to be challenged ... which triggers many who have swallowed the soma pill ... my current plot to subvert it is to use the same tactics and sign off FB posts with "Be Kind" ... perhaps it will go viral and reprogramme millions so they be subtly led into kinder delusions ... like Buddhism or similar sloppy stories of peace and love ...

A similar sideshow plays out in DUK ... picking up ongoing virus stories, processing them though familiar filters, arguing about which side has the best policy in a limited view of the international battle against the deadly virus ...which turns out to be not entirely international, maybe not best dealt with as a battle, not deadly to healthy people unless exposed to a massive dose, not universally accepted as a virus by well qualified scientists in the field ... crikey! Shut up and watch the news, people are dying in droves and I am terrified ...

Meanwhile, Obama is named for a more compassionate healthcare system, and over two terms approved ongoing wars designed to destabilise the renegade oil rich nations. Trump appeared to withdraw troops, whilst pursuing other means of securing freedom for the people of Iraq, Libya, Syria ... Trump's instinct appears to have been to let the Covid19 virus run its course. .. Johnson also ... we will never know how that would have gone, and spurious modelling is guesswork. Sweden provides a helpful alternative.

Perhaps the biggest Sacred Cow in DUK is the NHS. .. three letters pointing to a huge, complex, bundle or organisations. . that's for another day.

Back to the personal,  not because the returning ego needs the attention, so much as in some ways personal experience is the closest we get to truth ... and even that needs watching carefully.
This crisis is really energising me. The unbelievable, rapid slip into martial law is astonishing. And ordinary folks are demanding more restrictions. The consequences for the elderly and vulnerable are drastic ... and I am not talking about death. That's coming sooner rather than later from something or other. Dying is a serious business, best done peacefully and with loved ones around. The cruel measures imposed claim to protect them, but don't. This is not strict quarantine.
I am not seeking martyrdom and anyway they are not threatening to shoot resisters ... yet. But there is no fear in discreetly working round the blocks to compassionate action. Neither from a virus, police or the willing informers stepping up to risk their reputations ...

The organism is in fine form, immune system boosted by plenty of exercise, fresh air and sunshine.
Between us (and Google) dear reader, I can report a strange effect in the brain the other day. Speaking became disrupted between brain and mouth ... momentarily, then completely jumbled. There was no pain, just close observation. It settled down. There has been much speaking and listening since social gathering was banned. Deep conversations on the fells with all sorts of people. Neighbours in their gardens. Trying to understand what's going on ... and to undermine the self-imposed attack on our freedoms. .. There are others seeing through the hallucination and the rural setting is much more relaxed for resistance ...  but some previously hospitable people are cheerleading for the prevention of city dwellers from seeking respite in "our" countryside. Even folks who own mobile homes, who have been visiting each season for years, drunk in the pubs, socialised with locals ... what are we becoming?

That's enough for now. The Sun is shining and free vitamin D is out there. Please rest assured dear reader, that the psych seems sufficiently stable, if unusually engaged with the other humans. If you have been offended by any of this, stand by or stop looking. .. there is more to come. ..

Mum

Excuse me if I slip into first person language dear reader ... loyal readers of this six year ramble may have noticed a gradual slipping away of I, me, my and mine ... then it became a practice to try to write elegantly without those traps, not for your sake, it was never written for you, but as part of the quest to find peace from the chattering me mind ... like a writing meditation ... to go along with the daily walking meditation ... it helped ...

As it happens, the ego self has returned recently, consciously ... you may have noticed that a crisis has occurred across much of the world ... your blogger, comfortably hibernating in this little cottage in the hills, was already preparing a Spring Camino ... having become attached to the simplicity of the regime ... then Brittany Ferries wrote to tell me the crossing was cancelled ... not postponed as sometimes happens in rough weather, but cancelled ... the refund was smoothly handled ... the train trip took a little longer, but that was refunded too ... in fact, dear reader, the UK government told me I couldn't go anywhere (with exceptions) ... the long resisted safe house suddenly became a boon, rather than the burden felt when the precious few years of freedom were compromised by the arrival of money ... yes, dear sceptic, it was still my choice, and many people would be unambiguously delighted, but still ... I am trying not to take it personally ...

On a personal note, I have to tell you that my Mum sadly died.

Actually, I don't really understand why it is so many people die sadly. What is meant by that phrase? I only saw one person die in this whole life, and that was Mum. It was a very poignant experience and I was happy to be there at the end. She didn't seem sad. I wasn't sad. Elder sister you will have to ask, but it's possible she wasn't sad either.

A brief biography of Mum, from my perspective, may be helpful.
She was young once. The youngest of a large family, or maybe youngest girl, Uncle Phillip may have been the youngest. About 12 children I think. I lost count. .. some died as babies.
They lived in a quite small terrace house in Wilton, near Salisbury. I currently live in a quite small terrace house alone and the mind boggles how they all lived together there, but that's how it was and Mum never expressed any bitterness about such crowded conditions. Actually, I have no memory of her expressing anything but unconditional love. Lucky me! I thought it was normal.
She met Dad during the second World War .. she was in the Land Army, he in the Army Medical Corps. He never talked about his war. Maybe he was a little traumatised. Perhaps he joined the medics because he preferred not to kill people ... I don't know, he never said.
I still cannot imagine Mum having sex ... though I hasten to add I am not inferring four virgin births. Anyway, Linda was first out, soon followed by Frank. Frankly speaking, it is possible that Dad was disappointed the first time ... still they had the almost perfect pair and that was enough. Times were hard and Mum's experience probably taught her you could have too much of a good thing. Next out, accidentally, was me. Perhaps why I was a rebel, who knows.
Finally, Judith arrived, relieving me of the burden of being the baby.
Linda is alive in Dorset, in the family home.
Frank died, sadly, some years ago with a brain tumour in Australia. This was more than sad for those who knew him ... three small daughters, wife, friends, siblings. Perhaps saddest of all, both parents still living. Both getting towards their natural exit ... heart problems .. first major chance to go ... medics are very good at taking us past that, so we can have a go at cancer ... medics are quite good at taking us past that too ... hello Alzheimer's!
Dad sadly died of hospital acquired infection a while later. We didn't sue. It was past his time.
I sat in the hospital with Mum as Frank was nearing his early exit ... she was bargaining with her God. .. but he or she wasn't having it ... like many parents she would happily have swapped places ... but she carried on ... smiling with the pain of arthritis, a cocktail of drugs, a heart bypass she specifically declined but had anyway during an emergency. She didn't sue.
Judith is still living ... she's French now.

Well, there it is dear reader, she's dead now, happily. I am an orphan. That was tricky, having to take responsibility. Well more responsibility to be precise.

Of course, this was quite a few years ago now. I am entering the three score years and ten time and ready, willing and able to take my turn. The heart genes might do it, though there is no sign so far. Rest assured, dear reader(s), I have no attention of dying sadly. How you, the daughters, either remaining sister or anyone else respond is entirely up to you.

Maybe, when we cry at the funeral, we are crying for ourselves?

It was an early start, before dawn, writing this after cautiously sharing some FB posts, hoping to help folks lift the fear a little. Already one person has let me know I have offended him. The share was from a young, black, rock chick from Florida, who kindly let me be her FB friend so I could broaden my perspective. The images were questioning how shopping was allowed and wandering the wilderness not. Seemed a question worth examining. I made no comment, but my opinion was inferred anyway ... offence was taken though none was offered ... difficult times!

Time for a walk over the fells. Nature is bursting out exuberantly. Seasonal flu is relaxing with the Sun, exercise, fresh air. Those pesky bugs love the indoors. It's really not safe in there.

I wonder what Mum would have made of the madness. She did her best to protect us. Chucked us out after breakfast to wander in the woods, chucked us out after dinner (now called lunch) for more risky behaviour. We were lucky to live in the countryside, though a local friend raised in Sunderland reports the same approach. ..

More cause and effect ...

It's Good Friday in the parts of the world shaped by the Christian story...or stories, since the messenger's teachings inspired many variations of forms available to susceptible humans, whether to enlighten them or control them depends on perspective. It's the problem of all religions, organising the essence destroys the essence ... the Truth is not to be organised.

Today is a special day, set not by the calendar but through some lunar calculation (if you are interested do your own research, time is short, the blog wants writing and if evidence and research are often sketchy please check the veracity for yourself ... it's a teaching from the Buddha, K and others ... don't believe anything anyone tells you, check it for yourself, including the teacher)

Last year on this day, you may recall, the story was told in Santiago de Compostela, where they really go to town with imagery of death (for any new readers without conditioning in this religion Good Friday marks the day Jesus was ritually murdered in a gruesome way after being betrayed by one of his closest friends ... still unclear why that's Good but you can research that too if you are interested ... these days children mark the solemn event by eating chocolate eggs ... feel free to feedback how these long digressions in parentheses are working for you... it is difficult to keep up with the tumbling thoughts and writing clearly, albeit vaguely enough to allow weird stuff in, whilst watching out for apostrophe apostasy, sometimes by carelessness, often by autocorrect trying to be too helpful, also carelessness, since paranoia is not currently operating) and a strong emotion of foreboding was felt when, turning into a narrow street, a procession of death marchers, carrying an image of a suffering Christ, drumming darkly, passed by ...

To be honest this imagery of suffering ( for our sins, therefore our fault, there's your guilt) never appealed ... Buddha's image is very laid back and much more popular in garden centres than the Christian stuff ... I expect the usual critique is in back issues of the blog, it is rarely checked.

The esteemed (by around half of the electorate) President of the Land of the Free, confidently predicted this crisis would be over at Easter. Maybe Sunday. He is not universally popular around the world or indeed in the USA, yet a very plausible conspiracy theory, repeated by several FB informants carefully nurtured to retain for different perspectives, has him cast as an heroic leader of the world, taking down the rich and powerful ... which is well disguised, since he is very rich and powerful himself. If the theory is correct then we may see results as early as Sunday, or perhaps Bank Holiday Monday.

5G networks are widely touted as the cause of the crisis, experts debunk it ... maybe it's not the only cause. A magic pill, popular with drug dealers and extremely lucrative, is almost beyond question in the mainstream and virulently opposed by those suspicious of controllers ... as if the inordinate power of big pharma wasn't fact ... like big oil, it's the addiction to money that drives these corporations, liberated from regulatory restrictions previously in place to protect competition ...  and human expressions of these out of control organisations take on god like status. .. on another level out of control human organisms grow literally with obesity and cancer, less obviously seriously damaged minds manipulated by advertising, refined by Edward Bernays, psychologist nephew of Sigmund Freud, to persuade people to buy stuff they don't need, with money they don't have ...causal chains all over ...

Sun is up, enough writing for now ... may leave happy Easter greetings for another day ... doesn't seem very respectful. There are hot cross buns, so I can remember Christ's suffering when eating one later. No chocolate eggs though.

For friends fully signed up to the story, please don't take offence. I try to live my life according to the teachings he is said to have brought. Well, the ones that feel right to me, anyway. Blind Faith is not working here. Love one another will do for now.

Fencing

A brief break in the exploration of the nature of reality to offer a simple story ....

Once upon a time, there was a man who loved fences. He loved the way they enclosed territory, kept people safe, kept other animals in ... he had a favourite joke: Q. which ministry looks after the safety of our nation? A. The ministry of de-fence! How he laughed. Not really noticing that for all the money he paid in taxes for this ministry to defend the nation, they seemed to spend an awful lot on attacking other countries. Never mind, he wasn't really politically minded and was quite busy building up his fencing business, which became very successful. He was wealthy, had a yard full of fences of all kinds. Life was sweet.

Then life turned sour, as it sometimes does. He developed a nasty disease possibly as a result of chemicals he used on his fences. He smoked cigarettes too. Put on a lot of weight. His resilient body started to complain. Then, just as the consequences of his lifestyle were leading to a cocktail of drugs trying to keep on top of the symptoms a mysterious virus arrived, throwing the whole world into panic (with a few exceptions) and the fence man saw the very real danger of something he had never before considered. Death.

His mind focused on this dreadful reality and changed as he saw the futility of his love of fences, the uselessness of all his money and the awful idea that he may have led a life without meaning.

He resolved there and then to clear the decks, simplify his life, do good deeds and give away all the fences in his yard. And the fence around the yard. His revelation was that all fences were fundamentally a limitation on freedom, their functionality notwithstanding. They had to go.

He advertised widely: free fences, all in good condition, everything must go!

Unlike most free things, this seemed genuine enough and many people phoned asking for a fence.
And could he deliver one, please?

Sorry, he replied, it's not possible, I'm self-isolating. Anyway, that's not how you get free fences.

I can only offer a fence, but it's not really a fence unless you take it.

The End.

Seeking the source ...

Cause and effect chains go on and on and take some untangling. And to move it from complicated to complex, in a world where everything connects to everything else, identifying which is cause, which effect, where to start and which way to go rather depends on who we are, what we know or think we know, our world view, our belief system, our way of life and way of making a living, our personality ...

It is said that if a human's only tool is a hammer, they will spend most of their time seeking and finding nails. We are purpose seeking animals.

This current crisis may go back to the time when humans shifted from thinking, to thinking about thinking, imagining ourselves separate from Nature ... superior  to the minerals, plants and other animals, inferior to the transcendent, that which is beyond description or understanding, which we foolishly named and began describing.

Humans separated from each other too, male and female, our group, their group, our country, their country. .. our religion, their religion, my job, your job and on and on ...

Along the way, incrementally, we bent the rest of Nature to meet our own needs, the lower levels to improve our economy, the upper level to offer magical beings in our own image, with power structures ...

We have to find an entry point to unfold our tale, though there are others and other tales too.

This one doesn't seek conspiracies or blame, just a plausible causal chain from, let's say 1950 to the present day ...conveniently enough this fits the life line of your writer, so some anecdotes from personal experience may add some colour, if not evidence in the scientific sense of the word.

The UK was emerging from the 2nd World War, heavily in debt to the new Superpower, which, as in the previous World War, known as the war to end all wars, chose the winning side to throw decisive behind at the optimum time. As is known, the punitive terms of the peace created the conditions for the horror show of the Nazis and their influential supporters around the world ... including many from the British establishment, who feared the Bolsheviks and their ruthless treatment of aristocracy, bourgeoisie and anyone else who opposed them. The Bolsheviks had their own reasons for concern, since their revolution in  October1917 was greeted enthusiastically by many war weary warriors, fed up with the futility of such violence, with the peculiar blood relationship of the royal families of Britain, Germany and Russia ... the infant Soviet Union was invaded by armed forces of previously warring nations and defended itself successfully with the practical support of its international friends ... mutinies were breaking out, reds of many hues prepared their own class wars, and the aggressors backed down. Not a great start.

Before leaving the dreadful Great War and sending this story so far, since it has plenty to chew over for attentive readers ... one of the less salubrious scenes from the start of the conflict was the peer pressure on reluctant warriors exerted by neighbours, exemplified by the handing out of white feathers by women, to do their patriotic duty and sign up to the organised murder of people they didn't know who were similarly encouraged to drop the universal law not to kill, indeed ordered to bayonet another human in the stomach at times ... peer pressure is a neutral phrase for what is known these days as social shaming ... interestingly rife in the current crisis, though on this occasion we don't have to kill anyone, just to stay indoors. And follow orders, though that's another war ...

to be continued ...

An outing

Brenda, 87, has an appointment for an xray on her very painful leg at the nearby, but not local, hospital. The criteria for Patient Transport has tightened, it's cancer or dialysis or make your own way.

Since one of the exceptions to House Arrest is volunteering, an escape is possible and we have a pleasant outing, without protection and even compliments from the fully masked and gowned radiographer for the act of kindness ... assuming an altruism which was absent ... maybe a fear that was absent too ... the folks on the front line are often facing their own fear and it's hardly surprising that fully a quarter of staff are at home for whatever reason ... the Government prioritise testing on them so they can drive them back to the coal face ... the mixing of metaphors is not accidental and war words are perhaps creating an unhelpful narrative and reality ...

Whilst it is good news that this "war" is not being waged between nations, notwithstanding some sniping and the unexpected spike in Iran, the virus itself is not so special and certainly not susceptible to attack nor inherently evil. Our bodies are host to all sorts of bacteria and viruses, living quite happily together, having adapted to be safe ... mostly ... scientific opinion about this current crisis is by no means universal, even whether a new virus even exists ... action to be taken to make friends with current symptoms and assist the immune system to rebalance the mechanism feels quite different to the old battle against disease, bashing symptoms into submission and leads to outcomes less harsh than this fear based slide into a police state ...

Shall we call it by its name and see how another perspective feels?

Solitary confinement is a cruel punishment for those already identified as elderly and vulnerable.
And it is done to flatten the curve, so they can get a shot at surviving in intensive care. Statistics will show how that works out, but if they die in there, which many will, that doesn't look like a peaceful passing to me ... and meanwhile, if that is the case, the weeks of misery will have been worthless ... health professionals warn about cross infection, yet look at all the exceptions ... postal workers, paper deliveries, food deliveries, fear deliveries ... this madness is surely a mass hallucination, and for all the opportunities to reset the way we live our lives, torturing the most vulnerable is not a justification when they are not even consulted.

Anyway, the still quite modern Bishop Auckland General Hospital is remarkably quiet, whether the calm before the storm or the calm before the long mooted closure not clear ... Brenda enjoyed her ride out and so did I ...