Wednesday, February 3, 2016

Journal Feb. 3, 2016

There was more light this morning as I walked the dog.  The alarm is a fixed reference.  I felt it was warmer too.  There probably are crocuses out but I’ve yet to see them. I’m thinking about the colours of the tulips I’ll see in coming weeks.  The reign of darkness has passed. The shadow has moved on.
I’ve lived another wet and gloomy season.. There has been no war. I have not killed myself.  My dog’s back heels.  My own back and hip pain me more.  My concern is more that I won’t be able  to carry a haversack far. I haven’t the strength to lug ammunition to safety. I can’t carry food and water.  I don’t know how many arrows I can pack.  These are things to concern oneself with in times of trouble.  Electioneering.  Threats and rage.
I’ve watched the never new news.  I’ve been listening to audio courses from the Texas Mideast Lecture Series about Desert Storm.  Time and again the people have risen against the tyrants and been beaten down.  One revolution after another in Teheran.  Here we think of it as ‘over there’.  “Somebody else’s problem”.  A Muslim thing. “Muslim fighting Muslims”.  Like the gangs of Surrey.  Still the revolutions have taken on three characters - anti colonial - fighting the Corporations left over from the imperial invaders of the 19th century.  The leftover of WWII where the Ottoman Empire and Persian Empire were cut up by the ruling west into pieces of nation states that really didn’t have much in common.  Shii and Sunni combinations like an experiment, in one country a minority, in another a majority.  The Sufi’s sidelined.  So there’s that.  This ‘us against them’ at the global level.  East versus west.
But then there’s nation against nation.  Saudi versus Iran.  Good old fashioned politics and war.  Some of it just ‘proxy war’.  I called it the Desert Storm Arms bazaar.  The competition between Wal Mart and Target.  Western capitalist arms manufactures competing with Communist arms manufacturers and the west won. The fall of the USSR because no one wanted to buy their weapons after the awe of Desert Storm. Tough competition from the Chinese.  Everyone selling guns and tobacco.  We’re not saints.
I had a checkoslovakian pistol.  The left loves the Scandinavian countries now. Not least because of their tall and naked women. But the ex Nazi Swedish Socialism lives off the arms trade and dirty coal.  I can not afford the finest Finnish shotgun.  The precision machinists of those countries make bigger and better weapons.  Canada made armoured cars.
But the Desert Spring uprisings had an older twist.  Fighting off the foreigner, then fighting one against another politically and also the old religious fight between fanatics. The muslem brotherhood and Hamas and Hizbollah.  Extremist radical jihadists and the rest of the population that would rather just move forward. Most people want internet with free libraries and better food. They don’t want a war. But there are those that want to overthrow. they want to return to when the Mosque was in charge.  Before even the Ottoman’s if truth be told.  The dictatorships of the land have been like the Ottoman but these rebels want the divinity of the holy warrior.  They want the jihad. They want the Divine Nero. They would watch Rome and the world burn for their ego. They are actually believing god tells them to fuck little girls and kill the other guy.
And always there are criminals taking advantage of the disorder. Selling cigarettes and sex slaves.

I woke this morning disgruntled.  I had bitter thoughts of past wars in my own life.  Resentments that came on wakening.  I prayed for family friends and enemies and wanted to crawl back into bed like a Government Worker or Union member. I have made it through Monday and Tuesday.  I threw out an anchor to the weekend to kedge my way their. We’re staying in a hotel for long showers and HBO tv.  A changes is as good as a rest. I want to be somewhere I can let the dog off leash without other bigger dogs to bully him, healing as he is. I want a trail or field where he can run and play and believe that life did not hurt him. I want to be beyond my own guilt that if I’d done more I might be a better person or more secure.
I talk to God and the atheists are ending their lives as my is just beginning. I can not believe the loving God would force an afterlife on those who don’t want it.  I might gloat or despair at this never ending whining pitifest. I am lost in the uncertainty of my activity.  The cloud of unknowing.  I ask is this really what I’m supposed to be doing. I have social suicidal tendencies, the desire to run away to the north or south. I would flee government look for wilderness , go anywhere there are no bullies.
I know that in the breakdown of societies the judges and lawyers are first to be killed.  I know that Lenin was a lawyer and they have long held sway so that jokes abound about them as much as politicians. In the French Revolution they got the politicians.  This time round they’re get the lawyers but thats sad because they’re indiscriminate. The good guys and gals I know will go like the soldiers and police who just wanted a good job and didn’t mean to kill the citizens and support sociopaths.  Every revolutions the bankers are at risk.  The clergy took it hard in the French Revolution. The teachers went down hard when the Pol Pot took control They’re always killing Christians.  One religion or ethnic group against another.
Trudeau has been spreading racism.
I think the leadership would welcome rebellion. They’re like ‘let them eat cake’ while everywhere the drug addicts and homeless and ex convicts are angrier than I’ve ever known them.  The baby boomers aren’t going ‘quiet into that still night’.  Their houses are going, their cars are being taken with licenses and eyesight. There’s an edge of despair. No one is prepared for a ‘good death’ and there’s not enough botox for the alternative.
The old bridges are falling and the work on the Lion’s Gate shows the shoddy engineering and the corruption in the City and the trades. No better evidence of graft and corruption than roads that were built for 50 years falling apart in 10.
But I’m just an observer.  Frightened, lost.  I convinced so many to live and stop drugs and now my government wants them to suicide and take drugs.  Decades we struggled against the Tobacco Lobby wasting all our free time and energy fighting to save a lung, begging the government to shut down the psychopaths that sell cigarettes and they kept taking their kick backs and protecting the mass killers, worse than nazis really, in sheer numbers.  Here among us.  And we finally felt we were going forward but then the Liberals bought in to marijuana smoke
And Nero played his violin as Rome burnt.  There’s so much lust in destruction.  Give them cake.  Smoke.  Have a smoke.  Cancer of the lungs and throat.
I gave it up. Smoking.
I’d smoke whatever.
It was the smoking.
Now I don’t smoke.
I have a CPAP machine to sleep through the night and go to face another day, fight another day for ‘public health’.  Save another life.  Get paid a pittance what the killers get. Listen to more lies.
Bow down to Justin Trudeau, the new Nero. Emperor.  Wife Sophie.  Cute kids like the Queen’s kids.  That whole layer is like a cast of gods and superhero.  I don’t even know they’re real.  Acts.
All the world’s a stage, said Shakespeare.
My problem is I’m a critic.
I should be applause.  Bravo. Hooray. Hallelujah.  Be with me today Lord Jesus.  Help me in all my actions.  Be my mouth and words and hands.  Let me do thy will because frankly my will sucks.  The winter is still on us.  The death of the winter world still lingers. I must believe in spring. The ground hog spoke. There is easter and resurrection to come.  This is lent.  Days from now.  Ashes.  A milestone in the year like a coffee break in the day.
I must go to work. The coffee is finished and there’s drugs to be sold and hope to be sown.  My government tells me to offer pot and physician assisted suicide.  That’s all they have. Their casino parliaments have taken the money for health care and turned it to death and empty words. It’s all about hot air.  Save the planet in 2500. Let th people die this week. Give them cake.
Shake it off Bill.  You must ‘sell hope’ .  You’re in the business of ‘life’.  Let the politicians deal in death but you must remain a healer.  Get on with it and stop your bloody whining.  The world doesn’t need another bitter old man of any religion or colour.  We need laughter.  So fucking laugh you wanker or I’ll …..what…..what will you do.
I don’t know.
Have a shower.  Get dressed.  Do the drill.  Routine. Discloline.  The light is out.  Winter is passing. The groundhog said spring is here.  Soon Jesus will be risen.  Come on. You can do it. It’s Wednesday. You can do another wednessday. Forget about the mountain of wednesdays you’ve already done.  I know the government people, the bosses say you’re never good enough. They’re trying to shut down the old guys and girls.  I see them turned out in the fields. Useless.  Their souls sucked and bones picked, Meanwhile the wealthy from around the world are streaming into the country after killing off their own, after their lives of wealth and slave labour fearing uprisings. They’ve stolen all the countries moneys and run off. Canada is a haven for them.  They’re criminals in their countries but here they’re rich and smug.
I couldn’t become rich like they did. I didn’t have slave labour and I couldn’t use gangster connections. I couldn’t bribe a judge or policemen. I couldn’t get away with murder.  They did.  There’s blood on their hands and they scare me. I’ve no blood on mine . the police and military here are only for the protection of the rich. I have to hope they won’t want to kill the doctors when the end comes.  It’s not going to come here. Everyone is going to be smoking dope and hanging around and no one is going to revolt especially with all the criminals from other countries coming here to avoid having the children treated like they treated others children. Tribalism is here to stay.
The glass is half full, ass hole.
Stop your belly aching. Look to the half full glass. Be optimistic.  There’s enough fear mongering and begging blaming self pitying on the CBC.  You don’t have to join the collective moan.
Get in the shower. Get out of your head.  Go now. Thank you Jesus.

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