Evolution and Sex

Since famous pastor concluded that Darwin was calling his ancestor a baboon, the debate was on.  Today it’s thought our closest relatives are  the chimpanzee and bonobo. The chimpanzee male to male bonding is most important whereas among the bonobo mother child and female to female bonding are as significant.  The difficulty with Darwin’s evolutionary theory today is not in the realm of sensibility but mathematics.  We know from physics the time of the ‘great bang’ and by archeological evidence the appearance of the primates on earth.  With this knowledge and present day study of chimpanzee ‘learning’ the idea that a chimpanzee could learn to play Bach or Beethoven in the time available is impossible.  Computer projections so defended in the realm of pseudoscience political claims regarding climate change are not so popular when they refute Darwin.  

The possibility follows that a miracle happened, a series of miracles or mutations or a series of mutations. The problem with the latter idea is that mutations very rarely and statistically significantly lead to improvement.  Mutations are common and they lead to death routinely.  So yes, it’s possible, that man developed from primates but it’s more likely that the planet was seeded by aliens.  Alternatively aliens may have landed here and built the Atlantis of yore and then devolved to the Stone Age and then resurrected. All are not nearly as fanciful as the widely accepted notion that we ‘evolved’ from apes.  That does not mean that while we are distinct from apes we are not of the same ‘family’

The great joke of evolutionary biology goes like this. A child goes to her father and asks him where she comes from and he says, ‘we descended from apes’.  The child then goes to her mother and says where did we come from and the mother replies, ‘from sugar and spice and all things nice.” She then replies ‘but dad said we came from apes. To which the mother replies, “that was his side of the family, dear’.

Putting aside the controversial idea of evolutions of complex entities with as yet unexplainable leaps of faith between species and yet clear evidence of evolutionary factors within species and less complex organism, it is still possible to learn some interesting things from observing our cousins, the chimpanzee and bonobo.

First they don’t seem to know how children were created. There doesn’t seem to be any knowledge that an event many months before was associated with the birth of an infant.  The idea that sex was associated with child bearing is not intrinsic.  It’s a learned matter that was not even likely in the early cave man Stone Age hunter gatherer society era.  It was known once animal husbandry began. Indeed as the dog was the first domesticated animal, breeding of dogs might well have provided the first clue.  But for an inordinate time humans like apes are likely to have had sex simply because it felt good and was an ‘urge’.  The issue of ‘heat’ and ‘estrous’ distinguish human females too and that was indeed one of the factors that affected human community.  But it was only later that sex and childbirth were linked in a cause and effect sort of way.  It wasn’t till modern times that even scientist has a notion of the sperm and egg and much later DNA.  Hundreds of thousands of years were needed before the double stranded helix was conceived and evidenced. Indeed the nature of Jesus , as God or Man God chimera or all god and all man in mystery was debated for hundreds of years culminating in a decree, a ‘consensus report and law, in the early years of the Roman Catholic Church.  For a very long time the metaphor of sperm and egg was that the sperm contained the replica of the human and the egg was merely the ‘earth’ in which it grew.  This was a patriarchal interpretation and there were matriarchal ideas but the interpretation of scientific observations followed the cultural hierarchy in early years when censorship was normal and knowledge was propaganda.

The principle purpose of Sex would appear to have been pleasure with a secondary issue of reproduction. Alternatively reproduction was a priority coupled with pleasure to ensure survival of the species.

That can well explain penile vaginal intercourse, ejaculation and ovulation and reproduction. However pregnant women continue to have sex and men have historically in the rape and force tendency of brute strength and receptivity made mistakes.  The many jokes of ‘wrong hole’ speak to the problem of the proximity of anus and vagina and the errors that were and are inherrent.  

A northern fly in doctor wrote of his experience being called to a native reserve in the Yukon because of a delayed delivery.  He wrote that all the elder women of the village sat around the girl in labour and watched him as he examined her. He put his finger in the anus to assess the progress and dilation of infant head and vagina doing it this way so as to avoid contamination of the birth canal. At that moment the elder women collectively spat and walked out saying something in the local dialect. The doctor later asked the midwife what had happened and was told they said ‘wrong hole’ concluding a white male doctor knew nothing of childbirth.  

Dominant males have not been known for their sensitivity and specificity.  Premature ejaculation is evidence of an advantage in survival of the individual that limits the survival of the species. Given the vulnerability of the sex act and survival being quick for a male was satisfactory, efficient and safe.  That there were those who had premature ejaculations was less a concern than those who had delayed ejaculation. As for the woman’s ‘pleasure’ this was sufficient with frotterism.  Indeed because of pelvic anatomy a significant percentage of females can’t have orgasm with intercourse.  We can see that masturbation with primates male and female and with children is rather normative. So the whole mating  thing occurred in ‘association’ with sexual pleasure and reproduction but not necessarily linked solidly together. Lots of sex and wasted sperm and eggs and a matter of timing at the very least and a whole range of other factors necessary for the reproductive lottery to take place.

Later, much later, ‘breeding’ became important and the authorities and church became involved in the bedroom.  For hundreds of years the bedroom was the domain of religion and then became the domain of the state until recent times when PM Trudeau , senior, catching up with the times claimed ‘the state had no place in the bedrooms of the nation’. With that parliament was excluded and the courts moved in.  Laws upon laws upon laws now government sexual conduct and the expansion of contractual sex snowballed.  The state had indeed been involved in the off spring of sex and had been involved in ensuring that sex occurred within classes given the social hierarchy and breeding notions which followed from studies of animal husbandry.  Survival of the fittest and the stud and brood mare ideas followed from the god chosen rulers.  The state had an interest in the offspring and wanted the parents to be accountable for the children but sex itself wasn’t an exact science in the day.  It was pleasure and the idea was to avoid pregnancy for the woman and for the man to enjoy himself. 

Since the advent of the effective condoms in the 19th century and the birth control pill  in 1952 , the capacity for family planning increased exponentially.  

Anal sex though painful initially was found to be highly pleasurable and definitely an alternative to vaginal sex when it became known that it was vaginal sex that gave rise to pregnancy.  It would have been a long time before someone having vaginal and anal sex to guess which act resulted in intercourse. I’ve seen patients today who simply did not know how they got pregnant. In traumatic cases it’s a blur and details are forgotten. In other cases it’s just not known and I know because I didn’t believe it in some cases so did in depth questioning only to be reassured that they didn’t know.  Intelligence, culture and being told by mothers, aunts and sisters are necessary prerequisites to the knowledge of pregnancy.  Now having that clear it’s uncertain as to which time or with whom the pregnancy occurred.  DNA testing of parents and child is only a very recent advance and the 19th century courts today still refuse to have men know if the child is theres despite evidence that says nearly 50% of children of divorce are not the fathers.  

Masturbating men, men masturbating, anal sex and oral sex have all been birth control methods since modern times.  No one knows with certainty what people did sexually in general until the 19th century. The book Hermaphrodites and the Medical Invention of Sex by Alice Dreger is a delightful read in which the first cases of Transexualism were noted by clinicians.  When it’s as recognised one woman was a man the solution for the Russian father was to send her to the rural community to be married as no one would know in the ‘sticks’.  

Anal sex has been a part of the homosexual community for an indefinite time with terms like sodomy being very old in language.  It was associated with anger and rape and dominance, rape being an act of aggression used by insecure men against women and other men.  Yet it was also a preference for many effeminate men so called ‘sissies’ and as well the macho male pairs where one prefers the ‘bottom’ or for those Maccho males who fight together and culminate the ‘win’ of sex with sodomy.  Certain cultures indeed have a fight that culminates in the man penetrating the woman. Today the vestiges of this are still seen in the romance novel celebration by women of the ‘make up sex’ and a preference for the ‘bad boys’ by certain women. There are even women who write rapists in jails and those who choose men for their violence. The argument being that these women felt violent men would protect them and also that they took pleasure in ‘training’ violent men and having them as their personal weapons much as some like to have big cats as pets and particularly violent pit bulls as family dogs.  

HIV brought anal Sex into the day to day discussion because spread of disease , the STD’s were commonly associated with anal tears.  The brilliant Abraham Verghees describes in his classic novel ‘Cutting the Stone’ the problem of vaginal tears in child brides of Africa.  It might well not be the actual anal sex as the HIV viral blood contact which comes with tears of any kind given that so many African women were as prone to HIV as gay men.  Tears in rape and tears in child birth resulted in recurrent tears in intercourse.  

Today the life expectancy with treatment of HIV is similar to diabetics with treatment however the stigma of homosexuality and anal sex still affect the HIV patient who in the west might well have got the disease as easily through a ‘dirty’ needle or a prostitute yet the stigma is real. Diabetes as with all disease was thought a supernatural disease of ‘affliction’ all illness thought evidence of being out of favour with the gods in pagan religion or having ‘bad karma ‘ in eastern religions. The sins of the father (and mother) were expressed in the children as disease.  Hence the witch doctor and exercise.

The idea of anal sex was also that this was the source of ‘demons’.  A whole topic of interest. The supernatural consideration of homosexuality and the supernatural and indeed the satanic.  So much of the ‘dark arts’ are merely ‘reactive’ to the church so the cross is put upside down. The church is pro children and vaginal sex and the dark side is pro anal sex and no children.  The whole matter remains in flux but it’s important to recognise that it’s more than nothing to most and has been for hundreds of years if not thousands. 

Facebook Punishes me with Account restriction for the title of my post ‘oral Sex’

I am in FB jail again. FB has closed my account. Apparently the ‘term’ ‘oral Sex’ offends community standards. Fitting given that I object to the new censorship laws by Trudeau and sharia. 

I grow weary of children in adult bodies. It’s Lord of the Flies all over again.

Oral and Anal Sex

Beware,  this was immediately censored by Facebook. It doesn’t matter that I taught sexuality and have degrees in medicine and religious studies, object to Liberal and Communist censorship, and have been asked about this by hundreds of patients, we are seeing the dying of the light. This is being done by corporate legal hegemony. 

Oral sex is ‘natural’. It’s certainly seen in the animal kingdom. It was also long known as a preliminary to intercourse. As well the upper classes especially knew it as a ‘contraceptive’. It is the stuff of lesbian and gay sex.  So there are three aspects to consider:

1. Oral sex as fore play. I don’t think there is evidence against this.  

2. Lesbian same sex oral sex.  Not really controversial. While many African states still outlaw gay males Sex these ‘macho’ African states allow ‘lesbian Sex’.  I think they like to watch too:}

3. Homosexual oral sex. This was particularly popular in Ancient Greece and is depicted on their pottery.  It’s interesting in the jail men who ‘accept oral Sex’ do not consider themselves gay. A Mexican policeman who ‘used’ boys thought of himself as ‘super macho’. The distinction here is ‘receptive’ versus ‘active’.  Homosexuality by this creed is ‘female like’.  The Pink Swastika researched the high incidence of sexual deviation in the Nazi especially the SS. The homosexuals who went to the gas chambers were effeminate and ‘receptive’ or ‘bottoms’ or ‘queens’.  The macho men declared themselves as super sexed and having so much sex they could spread it around.  This group today would be called bisexual, admittedly tight assed bisexual but bisexual nonetheless.

4. Swallowing Semen. The distinction with the acceptance of semen orally is another issue of controversy.  It certainly was a long used upper class birth control technique and know for centuries by courtesans.  It was interestingly least associated with the spread of disease.  There are indeed many gay men who did not desist from oral receptive sex throughout the HIV crisis and simply didn’t get HIV even though they had ‘swallowed the semen’ of infected men.  Heterosexual women were equally immune from disease despite ‘swallowing semen’ from infected men.  It’s not that STD could not be spread with oral sex. The chance of the ‘giver’ getting disease was rare unless they had penile tears or the mouth of the receivers were filled with open sores. Even that was speculative. The fact is oral gonorrhea and oral thrush do occur.  Herpes has spread orally in lesbians. I know this personally as a clinician who has interviewed people with oral STD and faithfully eliminated even the remote possibility they licked toilet seats for pleasure.  It can occur but it’s rare, extremely rare. By contrast, unprotected receptive anal sex is the least safe sexually regarding disease spread.  However, what remains is that ‘swallowing of semen’ independent of risk of disease is a distinct ‘taboo’.  Even autophagia, the male masturbatar swallowing his own ejactulate is a ‘taboo’.  

The more educated women are the more willing they are to have oral sex and swallow semen. The upper classes independent of culture and religion reduce their frequency of pregnancy to three children despite the evidence that having twelve children is healthiest for the equivalent individual. Oral receptive intercourse has long been an acceptable birth control method.  

Birth control pills were made first in 1952.

Condoms have been available since the 17th century at least with lots of recording in the 18th century and very effective ones with the 19th century. 

The question of ‘spilling his seed on the ground’ , the ‘sin of Onan’ was not about masturbation or oral sex but rather the refusal of greedy Onan to impregnate his brothers wife so that after his brother’s death her offspring would share in the future estate ownership. By refusing to i pregnant his brothers wife, having intercourse and pulling out, he broke Jewish law.  

The key feature of all discussion of sex prior to the Industrial Age was that children were ‘wanted’ and ‘mothers’ were celebrated.  Mother of God.  Mother of the Nation. The brith of children resulted in labor for agriculture and for armies. The advice to daughters by the Victorian Mother was ‘lie back and think of England’. It’s only in recent years that children and mothers have been denigrated.  The most evident change is tone in the voice of the sneering lesbian feminist who calls mothers ‘breeders’ and denigrates the roll of wife and mother as inferior to imitative male roles like lawyer.  In the Celtic tradition women were not excluded from male roles as they were in many Asian and African cultures with exceptions.  Queen Boudicca, Joan d’Arc, and Queen Judith are all truthful examples of women’s power.  Women’s power was expressed through their husbands and sons and daughters.  Angelina Jolie actually played a rather true depictions of the mother of Alexander at great contrast to the chauvinist Marxist depiction of women as ‘victims’.  When Freud said ‘women have penis envy’ , the psychoanalyst Karen Hornet responded ,‘men have womb envy’.  

Bishop Spong has humorously recorded the history of the ‘missionary position’ and the ‘Catholic church’.  The idea though was specifically tied to maximum reproduction. The anti masturbation position is not necessarily biblical given the misinterpretation of Onan but there is a stoic element in the Biblical history as evidenced by the path of celibacy and the path of parenthood both being acceptable routes to God.  Being a single masturbator doesn’t flow naturally from interpretation of he Bible.  Being a wanker he eats his own sperm isn’t well supported by New Testament or Old Testament Judeo Christianity. Indeed it’s been said there are two things a human can’t do ‘marriy’ or be a Christian though the Aethest Communist sex doll industry and the all too common lunatic judicial supports are ready to redefine “marriage” fashionably, yet again.

It is said that the devil is in the detail and taboos and superstitions are really specific to the ingestion of living sperm.  What is that about?  Equally some men fear that licking women’s ‘juices’ will cause them to be ‘feminine’.  That separate issues of gender and hormones is still apart of the whole.  Yet the life and death issue of masturbation and sperm release to the Kleenex receptor or the male or female mouth is critical. Meanwhile the epicureans value the delicacies of live oysters swallowed whole, new recipes of live worms and insects and ‘rarest’  of meats while the bull testicle and female animal internal organs were long a delicacy especially among the upper classes.  There’s superstition in all this as well as science.  Mostly speculation.  Even more ‘belief’ and culture and ‘tradition’.  But central are issues of history and considerations of ‘life’ and death in an era where ‘giving blood’ or other ‘transplants’ are acceptable and ‘stem cell’ research has challenged all our thinking about sperm and ova.  

The celibate woman lets a ‘potential’ life die each month.  So even further is the ‘passive’ or ‘covert’ aggression, versus the ‘active or ‘overt’ aggression.  Am I responsible or accountable.  If someone dies who I could save and don’t is that the same as my actually killing a person.  Note the slippery slimy consideration of philosophy and ethics.  Indeed in contrast to morality, ethics seems often to provide excuse.  But ultimately the guilt and shame are in these details. It remains that among women being called a ‘cock sucker’ isn’t particularly scathing outside the strictest of communities while being called a ‘cocksucker’ as a man is limiting personally and politically.  Being called a ‘pussy licker’ as a woman among women might have negative repercussions though men don’t find it as difficult.  Women may in fact be more judgemental regarding sexual mores than men who are often influenced by their wives and mothers but alone don’t really care what their fellows are doing as long as they are getting their own.  It still remains that there is significant shame and guilt attached to homosexuality and this act of oral intercourse is clearly tied to that greater idea.  

Of course we shouldn’t talk about this. Talking about this is dirty and perverted.  Sex is an action sport.  The legal system has indeed insisted it’s contractual and masculine and denied the input of women , in their behaviour, or their actions routinely.  The chauvinistics dominate the male courts and deny the distinction of female sexuality or gay sexuality and judge everything by 19th century male standards and gross ignorance of science and culture.  Indeed much of the problem of sexuality is the legal system and political system especially in Canada where censorship is being restored by the Liberal government threatened in fact by the powerful aboriginal Canadian women whose voices have been denied by the priviledged males especially of Montreal and Toronto. Meanwhile the UN is even more backward than Canada and Europe which had been decades back at the forefront of enlightenment but now regresses.  The UN has a collection of men in charge of Women’s division and has elected the Iranian as the leader despite the greatest abuses of history against women in Iran today.  

All this affects sex, oral sex and migration and the effects of migration of people from dictatorships living in the past to free countries which were once open to consideration of a future.

Oral sex and swallowing is ironically a central issue.  Clinton insisted he did not have sex.  The key could have been if he insisted he didn’t commit adultery. Adultery was once about ‘intercourse alone’.  The whole idea of marriage was related to contractual allegiance and the ownership of children.  The monogamous marriage is an Indo European invention but it didn’t historically allow separation if there was adultery even. It was ‘grounds for divorce’ in recent times routinely but in studies of 50 year marriage a third of the participants had had intercourse outside of the marriage.  For Clinton to say that a ‘blow job’ was not ‘sex’ was too far fetched. A Jesuit lawyer could have got him off perhaps if he’d responded that he didn’t commit adultery. By contrast Kamala, the new Vice President, openly committed adultery with Governor Brown rubbing Mrs. Brown’s face in it. Too boot.  We don’t know if she had oral sex.  A study suggest black women were less likely to have oral sex than white, chinese or Indian women arguing that American black women were less receptive given this being a part of the slavery tradition. I don’t know.

Remember to even talk about this or think about it or share any thoughts on the subject are ‘dirty’.  Clean and dirty are interesting terms to apply to sex.

At this time the worlds richest men and women are divorcing.  But we can’t talk about sex, politics or religion in polite company.  Those who decide what we can and cannot talk about are the powerful.  

As Haasnen declared it remains that there are only two things a southern politician can’t do , ‘get caught in bed with a live boy, or dead girl.’  Epstein Island suddenly became a matter the media quickly dropped while it remains content to hold the Springer spin off, the Kardasians central.

This is just ‘oral’ sex.  Imagine the whole talleyho taboo with ‘anal Sex’.   Talk about taboo yet again, animals do it, and it has been with us humans in recorded history for hundreds of years and was used as a ‘natural’ birth control method by South American women. I have no intention of suicide but if that’s the official report before I write about anal sex please donate to Julian Assange’s freedom fund and stop Trudeau’s illegal immigration. 

Gratitude Thursday

Thank you God for this day. Thank you for being woken by my puppy Madigan’s wet nose and vast enthusiasm. Thank you for the follow up alarm of Creed. Thank you for Third Day. Thank you for inspirational music. Thank you for music. Thank you for the sparrow that landed on my walk by the river with Madigan. That little sparrow landed so close and looking me right in the eye sang the sweetest little song. Thank you for the grace moments. Grace notes. Grace.

Thank you for relief I get from back pain by using a vibrator, exercising, hot showers and hot tubs. Thank you for the solutions to problems. Thank you for all the blessings. Thank you for friends and family. Thank you for all the means of communication. But especially thank you for hugs. Thank you beautiful women. Thank you for the night Laura shared my bed so recently. Thank you for our camping trip. Thank you for the Honda ATV and the Ford Truck and the Adventurer camper and the Ruger 30:06. Thank you for the joy to target shooting. Thank you for precision and discipline. Thank you for playing fetch with Madigan. Thank you for wood fire and wood smoke. Thank you for Irish spring soap. Thank you for sunshine. Thank you for coffee.

Thank you for so many blessings lord. Thank you for the gospels . Thank you for churches. Thank you for prayer and meditation. Thank you for wisdom teachings. Thank you for medicine and medical school and teachers. Thank you for walks and rides. Thank you for working from home and working with others. Thank you for love.

Thank you Jesus. Thank you Lord. Thank you. Hallelujah. Thank you for friends who are sick healing and getting better. Thank you for company.  Thank you for the Holy Spirit.Thank you.  

The outer world is a reflection of your inner world

I arrived home after a few days vacation in the woods. Out there I was dealing with a myriad tasks of survival. There’s the truck and all it’s moving parts, and the ATV. The camper has a generator, batteries, water pump, water tanks, grey and black water holding tanks, flushing toilet and propane stove and fridge. The furnace is propane too. I’ve all of these to check and ensure they’re working. It’s a trick to get the happy jack fuse working with the remote. The refridgerator has a tricky matter that sometimes delays the pilot light coming on.  The furnace took a few times to start. It’s like this each trip. Crossing ones’ fingers and praying and then fiddling.  It’s always a check to make sure I have all the keys before I leave and the licenses and paper work.

I’ve loading and unloading to do. I had the ATV loaded loaded for bear. All the rifles and ammunition’s and cleaning and butchering knives, saws and axes, rope and tie downs in case I shot one and had to haul it out on the ATV. There was even the fire to make and watch. I used the generator to charge the computer and iphones and iPads.

Now I’m home and everything is on automatic. I’ve time to think.  The world hasn’t changed.

When I left there was still the lockdowns and the world ‘crisis’ of Covid 19. Of course there have been previous virus.  Thise had a far greater lethality.  This virus has been specifically ‘hyped’.  There’s never been more money in ‘Infectious Disease Crisis’. This is way beyond HIV and that was literally deadly.  People compare it with polio but that too was far more lethal.  It’s shown that a number of policies of nursing home and care for seniors has been wanting. It’s also shown that government in Canada at the national level has used health care to strut and self adulate about only to find that the money for health care has been sent to pay for third world cronyism. The leaders of Africa and Asia have been made rich by Canadian tax payer money that was supposed to keep up the health care system and provide safe water to aboriginal people. The utter irresponsibility and mismanagement of the health cares system along with rampantly irresponsible fiscal management and arrogance, is all beyond the pale. Yet I feel like I’m in a bad b version of Invasion of the Body Snatchers listening to mainstream media and still hearing people thinking Quebec is an asset when it’s a disease on the body of Canada.  Western Canada is being rape by the bullying colonizer of Ottawa, enslaved by their self serving ‘transfer’ payments, ‘bilingualism’ and countless other Toronto-Montreal laws that take in no consideration of others.

It’s the same.  Lockdowns persist despite the clear evidence they’re political and not scientific.  Church’s continue to be persecuted while divide and conquer media continues to celebrate criminals and communists. It’s absurd.

Sex changes are happening more frequently and children don’t want to be their gender.

I’d say things are confused.

So must I be. If the outer world is a reflection of my inner world then I must be a war with myself.

The real dichotomies I’m facing are aging - I’m old and I was young./ health - I’m more aware of my body as worn, aches and pain, and threats of disease and failure/ gender - I’m no longer wanting to meet women and bed them. I have no reproductive or masculine drive. I am not even interested in fighting and don’t want to do kick boxing and wrestling. I don’t have any desire to climb mountains or fist fight or defend my territory. While that’s not true. I”d like a grenade. I could enjoy tossing grenades from my couch.  But I’m pretty much an old lady. Old men and old ladies begin to look more a like.  I don’t want to rough it.I like comfort and long for decadence. I like to look at babies and enjoy the children of all things wild. Today I smiled watching a bunny.  Only a few years ago I would have been plotting his death and looking forward to eating him.  

I had that smart and stupid thing going for a while. I lived in libraries and wanted to know everything. I continue to read and study and enjoy knowledge but I don’t have the drive I once had.

I am aging and mellow.  

I can’t get very excited about all the fashion crazes of politics. The air craft carriers of the free world and gathering around the South China Sea and Xi Jin Ping and Beijing are declaring covert war on the west with their ally Iran and it’s proxy Hamas. They’re attacking Israel again while here imitatively the Muslims are crying Islamaphobia in chorus with the cries of homophobia and anti semiticism.  Everyone has a card. The latest reign of terror is racism. Whites are the only ones who can’t claim racism while of course blacks riot in the streets and destroy busniess and kill blacks as Candace Orwen has pointed out. BLM marxist corporation gets a pass and no one knows where their money goes.  There’s a rover and a helicopter on Mars and a space station hotel.

These are all things that seem to be in the news, on facebook and google.

I’m taking pictures of butter cups and walking my dog enjoying the clean scent of river walk air.  I’m living in a virtual reality mostly reassuring and writing prescriptions that go to be distributed by the pharmacist. I’m part of the big business and I’m paid by the government and in turn I pay the mortgage. I may die any time.  I want to live to care for my puppy for another decade. But I don’t know what I would do otherwise. I’d like to travel but not with the covid restrictions. I’d hoped to move further from the city more into the lower cost and slower pace of the rural suburban world.  I like this climate.  I like my friends.  

If this world I’m looking at is a reflection of my innner world then my inner world is confused. There’s a collective insanity , a mass hysteria in the outer world of politics and money.  I’m connected in numerous networks.  I’m obviously not alone.  The collective consciousness is a product of the contribution of billions.  The world is in turmoil and a reflection of the inner turmoil. More people than ever praying for peace. More enlightenment but the ‘left’ ‘woke’ arrogant and hypocritical think they are superior. I remember ‘turn ,turn, turn’....Ecclesiastes..  and I remember May and June in my personal life I have always been a time of transition.  The world is entering summer and throwing off winter. Food is becoming plentiful. The fears of winter are leaving. This is a time of planting. It’s a time historically when people planned wars , to be fought in summer or in fall after the harvest.  War and rumours of war.  

I should be painting and writing poetry and making plays.  Important things.  Healing is good.  It could be enough.  I’d like to garden.  I miss my homestead. I miss my boat. I have so many times I enjoyed and now I’m here really enjoying this time. It’s good but I don’t know what to make of the news.  

Time to work.  I love showers. I did the laundry yesterday and my office where I hung the clothes smells fresh.

I am blessed and thankful for all I have. It’s a good life and I really am grateful. I pray for the well being of friends and family. I pray for world peace.  

Thank you Jesus.

Camping , Harrison Lake East, Covid Restrictions

Covid restrictions had us all limitted to travel in the range of our particular health region. Laura and I had planned to camp in the interior but had to change plans last minute. We’re both burnt out but so is everyone else we know. We’re praying for Vivian in the ICU with covid.  Everyone has a ‘somebody done me wrong’ story and there’s this spiralling down sense of fatigue and low energy. 

I’ve been meditating but not quite feeling peace.  Restless, irritable and discontent. I remember it’s this time of the year.  Almost 23 years ago, I was experiencing betrayal, defeat, ‘incomprehensible demoralization’ and literally stopped the down elevator and got off. I don’t know what floor it was on but somewhere in the basement for sure. Today I’m mostly above ground and living rather than dying. I’m thankful too.  

This weekend was a blessing. Laura arrived in her little red Smart Car and transferred to my Ford F-350 Lariat édition Truck. I’d packed the night before. Madigan was very excited, to see Laura and to be on a road trip. We stopped at Cabellas because we could. We were off the clock. A life of discipline and schedules broken by this utter escape. I couldn’t given another ounce of blood at the company store. I was only able to focus on the task at hand.  Getting egg McMuffins. Loading the Adventurer camper, hooking up the trailer. I used a causer pin instead of a lock. 

We were just entering the logging road when the trailer hitch came lose and the chains held the trailer on.  I pulled over and realized I couldn’t lift the tongue with the ATV on it. So I moved it back then went to lift the tongue now lighter with the trailer back, but unfortunately I’d let the ramp down and though in park the ATV rolled off the back onto the road. No harm done though Laura was shocked by everything.  Madigan thought it was all a new game. I learned some lessons. Restored he trailer to hitch and reloaded the ATV balancing it better in the trailer.  

We camped on the pull through beside the FSR where I’d been the fall before hunting. It was a lovely spot only bothered by the hundreds of cars and dust they through up passing by to a veritable Woodstock on the Beach at Colbourne beach.  It wasn’t the normal sort of campers as almost are were cars not meant for logging roads.  Trucks and Campers for sure but a whole bunch of folk just getting out of the city for the first time in many months.  Freedom in the air.

Laura and I had great meals, barbecued steaks, pork chops, lobster. Eggs for breakfast.  Roast beef sandwiches.  Madigan is a foodie and sat beside Laura with his head on the table waiting for treats. 

I took the ATV with him on the back and drove to the end of the lake and then up into the back mountains.  I would have shot a bear if it was on the road and begging for MAiD. With age I’ve not become less aggressive or carnal but the thought of hours of hauling, gutting and skinning has caused me to let many bears pass that I might well have shot when I was young.  I’m tired. I’m weaker. My back hurts. I don’t get enough exercise. I sit at a desk days in and days out. I’m lazy. I don’t like bear as much as venison. I don’t need trophies. I’ve nothing to prove. I’d just as soon shoot a grouse. I love the taste of partridge and am so looking forward to introducing Madigan to the joy that Gilbert and I shared hunting wild chickens.  If a deer or bear interrupts that pursuit in the fall, we might shoot it. In the spring I m more interested in exploring and photography. 

I loved the Honda 420 Rancher. It was only my second time out. For a few years I’d gone back to 2 wheel vehicles.  I’m loving 4 wheels.

I put together the rain canopy for the ATV, a tent like contraption I bought on Amazon.  It really works and I’ll love it in fall rainy season.  That was one of the things I’d liked about the Honda Pioneer Side by Side 500.  Rain hadn’t bothered me whereas on quads it gets really cold and wet. Now I’ve got the equivalent of a convertible sports soft top I’ve stored in the camper.  A project.  

I also put together the Canadian Tire solar panel and motion detector sensor slight. It really worked great. Now I have to remember to bring a drill to mount it next time.  Very nice feature for the back door.

I did a couple of rides with Madigan in the box on the back and a couple of rides on the ATV up in the woods by myself. I met a couple of young guys camped high up in a logging slash.  Good looking men in their 30’s with a truck and tent and camp stove on the gate and rifles sitting waiting the high slash. They reminded me of me when I was young. We chatted a bit. Shared tales of fresh bear sign. I was the old guy.  It was their day. They were obviously serious hunters having a good time too. They’d have the best conversations as I and friends have had over the years in trucks and blinds.

I liked the rivers and falls, evergreens and spring smells. I loved the bird sounds. The woods were alive when I shut off my ATV and sat listening and watching. Madigan liked that. He’s had so little time off s leash and this whole adventure was exciting for him.  The outdoors are so beautiful.

One afternoon Laura and I sat in the sun on the lawn chairs reading. Every 10 minutes one of us would get up and get Madigan untangled.  Another time I made a log fire and we sat watching it. The risk of fire meant it couldn’t be left a moment and we had water just in case we needed to put it out. The wind was blowing up from the water so the sparks landed on the road. I enjoyed the smell of wood smoke, looking into the dancing flames.  Laura liked the warmth as night was coming on.

I woke at 3 am a couple of nights, letting Madigan out and the two of us peeing in the night.  The stars were incredible , the first night shining down through the tops of the trees. It was so quiet.

Sunday the Colbourne Beach crowd left by the hundreds. We heard them go by.  We didn’t leave till the next day.

We were off the grid, no internet , no cellular, a glych in the satellite phone antennae found this trip, it was working fine last time. I had a ham radio but didn’t bother. I felt allergic to people.  I casually  conversed at best but I couldn’t re responsible, answer adult questions, make a decision. I felt myself relaxing. Laura said her body tension and headaches were gone by day two. I felt my mind clearing as I focused on the mountain trail beside the sheer cliff. Meditation in motion.  No worries.  Practicing the presence.  

I finished reading Harari, Homo Sapiensand went on to read a novel of Boudicca, the Celtic queen who fought the Romans. I’m enjoying it.  Mornings drinking coffee and reading.  If I was hunting I’d be out at dawn but the earliest I got going was the afternoon and evening.  I just loved the lack of demands and unscheduled time. Except for Madigan he was a going concern.  Laura is easy to be with, not loud.  She relaxed as the weekend progressed. Laughed by the last day.  She likes the camper home and the outdoor yard. Madigan and I go away and love to return to her reading, doing cross word puzzles, eating crackers.

We learned there were more freedom rallies. The government has become totalitarian and communist, rabid like a nazi blind dog, intent on establishing the UN , a collection of old men dictators with the arms dealer security council and the sharia communist blocks in the main body.  World police.  Even as the European community is failing due to the corruption of Babylon this newest communist organization claims ‘globalism’ but a communist dictatorship run by bureaurocrats is far from a free federation.  Corporate big tech and communication are like the barons of medieval age, the different companies, East Indian and Dutch.  The overlapping business and nation.  It’s all only nominally separate. Today we’re facing horrendous loss of civil liberties and rights based on a very questionable premise.  Dr. Fauci’s gain of function studies in the Wuhan Lab, Science and Nature political articles and the corruption of the WHO and the Chinese communist military theft of labs around the world. Money greed and godlessness. Who knows who to believe . I don’t trust the media and the presidents and prime ministers are puppets with shadows in the background.  SNC Lavalin.  Gates and vaccines.  It’s murky and mysterious.  Meanwhile the attack on Christianity and God is real. 

I’m feeling lost.  Uncertain times.  I obey the law. Struggle to carry the flag.  Aim to trust authority which seems strange given my adolescence. I’m there again.  Uncertain.  Jaded. I am thankful for the break. The world carried on and I can pick up the pieces after a weekend of freedom. There was a time I’d have had to be sick and dying to take a break. I’m learning.  There’s a time to rest. A time for peace.  It’s been good.  I just felt it was a bit of R&R to allow me to continue in the war.  I’ll go back to it today. Keeping the finger in the hole in the damn which chaos, suicide and despair breaking through the wall.  I wonder how long it will be before the joy is sucked out of me by the anxiety and depression so deep now with lockdowns and constant fear mongering and government abuses.  Some cartoonist will need to draw a picture of Trudeau in a while beater t shirt gas lighting the nation. 

I’m thankful.. We had sunny day. The rain only began on the way home.  We had problems with the fresh water but we had lots of bottled water for drinking. It seemed there was anaerobes or gas in the gas station water. I put water purification tabs in the tank and cleaner in the grey tank.  I’ll clean it with bleach next time and check the gas station water before I fill my fresh water tank.  Our black water tank didn’t fill. We had lots of water. 4 nights for two people and a dog.  Not bad. We had lots of water and the grey water didn’t even fill. We didn’t take showers but sure loved them when we got home. I almost went swimming with a bar of soap.  Cleaning in the sink with hand clothes was sufficient. Changes of clean clothes. I began to think that daily showers were too much feeling good day two. Roughing it.  I’d the generator to charge the batteries and iPads we were using for Kindle reading.  I could have used the truck but like the Honda 2000 generator. 

We included family and friends in prayers.  We talked about recent events in the lives of people we knew.  We are planning to fly out to my nephews wedding. There wasn’t anything cerebral and no emotional drama.  We tip toe a bit around each other the first day, raw from work, both of us working in the ‘complaints department of life’.  Then after a night of sleep in wilderness we wake so refreshed.  Madigan is such a joy and distraction.  He liked to play fetch with a tennis ball with me and didn’t chew on anything too valuable.  

It was a good weekend. Thank you. Hallelujah.  

  

May Long Weekend - Harrison Lake East

“Woof! Woof!” 

I awoke quickly from a delicious dream knowing my puppy, Madigan, wanted up on the camper bed. I also thought, if I let him out now, he might not yet have pooped in the camper.  

I saw beautiful tousled haired, Laura feigning sleep beside me.  

“Woof, woof!” It wasnt’ a real bark. More a plea. When Laura is here he just begs to be on the bed with her. When I’m alone it’s more an ordering tone.

“I’m coming”. I said.

Good fortune. No poop. I’d laid out the pee pad and he’d not used it.

“Good dog, Madigan!”

Outside. Fresh air. Sunshine. Warmth.  I’m just dressed in night shirt and flip flops.  Madigan is peeing on every bush. I select just one.  Ah. 

The blue sky is beautiful.  The lake is calm through the forest. Tall quite massive trees are all around this clearing.  The camper on the truck with the struts down is on this logging road staging area pull through.  We hear the vehicles go by but we’re protected from the dust.  Down the road, a city block, Colbourne Beach Recreation site is full of campers tenting on the beach.Last night I drove by on the Honda Rancher 420 ATV.  

John’s son has done a skookum job of installing the rifle mounts and mirrored hand guards. He did an especially good job of mounting the wheel on the tongue of the trailer.  Yesterday’s yesterday’s excitement was my using an unlocking pin on the trailer hitch. . The pin came out of the hitch lock and the hitch came off when we hit the first bumps of the gravel road. I really am going deaf. I knew something was wrong. I could hear an in distinct noise and the sluggish feel of the wheel but I drove on a quarter mile looking for a safe space to pull over till Laura turned down her window and I heard the tell tail sound of dragging chains.  It wasn’t the perfect place to stop but it would have to do. Emergency brake.  

I was looking at the trailer tongue hanging on the chains , the hitch riding on the newly mounted wheel so it was protected.  I’d used a cotter pin to secure it instead of the lock I’d not found in the truck. Too late I found it in the camper drawer.  I’d learned my lesson. This wouldn’t happen again. Now to solve this problem.

“Shouldn’t you put on your flashers?” Laura said joining me to look at the damage..  Sure enough. The flashers.  

Even with her helpI couldn’t lift the tongue to put the hitch back on the ball. The ATV needed to move back in the trailer. I’d just learned another lesson about the best place and balance for ATV and trailer. I unloaded gas tanks by the side of the road. Put the gate down figuring I could ride it back. When I gave it gas in reverse the pendulum effect lifted the tongue. I thought I could lift it now so put it in forward first gear, dismounted. With Laura’s help I lifted the tongue.

“Bill, “ she screamed. Standing up beside me.

“What!” I said, worried she’d caught herself. 

“Bill!”  I’d turn to see that the ATV had rolled off the trailer onto the road, coming to a stop sideways in the Center of the road. Facing the other direction putting the hitch on the ball. I’d not seen what she’d seen and I’d not heard a thing.

“I couldn’t stop it.” She said defeated and scared. “ I thought it was going to keep rolling off the cliff!” 

“It’s okay, “I said. Climbing onto the ATV and driving it back onto the trailer.  I’d now learned another lesson. 

Remember to put ATV in park. It’s a weird thing coupled with the release that’s needed to put the this ATV in reverse. I remembered it now. I’d had a time figuring that out the one time I’d first used the new ATV months back.  I don’t even think this has and emergency brake but will now take a look in the manual. I learned another lesson and wouldn’t make that mistake again. Even in forward gear the ATV could roll backwards.   

I really liked that a couple of trucks stopped to ask if we needed help.  Maybe a dozen in total passed.  One was an older white man  travelling with his wife. The others was a younger black man’s with wife and two kids.

“If I was racist, “ I said to Laura, “that would screw me up either side of the equation. Old white guy and young black guy are the ones that offered to help. “

Laura was frazzled. 

“I am completely exhausted from work and couldn’t handle that. I think girls just want to be in a suite in Mexico where they can have room service and lie beside the pool reading.”  I can relate because I’m fairly tired of being a man with all the criticisms against men, the old, our grand parents, and just about everything I was brought up to believe in as a Canadian I often think I’d like a sex change if only to get a suite in Mexico, lie in a deck chair and criticize all the men since Adam.  

We’d just driven to Chilliwack. I had the Ford F-350 Lariat edition truck packed. It took me years of second trucks and paying loans and mechanics and finally having this new truck that I could generally rely on. 

Laura said “It never breaks down. I love it.”   I’d bought a previous truck from her son in law who later went to jail as a criminal, theif and general asshole. It was good to be vindicated after being ripped off but we both could have skipped that experience and the litany of breakdowns that truck came with. This Ford F-350 has been a joy.  

To prepare for this trip I had had to remember a dozen keys, to turn on the battery cut off  switch to the camper , to fiddle the fuse attachment to find the Happy Jack switch, raise the camper. Then very carefully line up the truck and back it under the camper. Lower the camper. Attach the steel stays then attach the electrical. I’d had the added issue of attaching the trailer, in which John’s son had added the wheel jack to the tongue. Without that done we ‘d  not have been able to get this far. That’s when I thought a pin rather than a lock would work on the jack. We’d stopped for gas. I’d had the propane tanks filled. I found the hose and filled the water tank. Then we’d pulled into the superstore.  I’d done the shopping for 4 days and passed it from the cart to Laura who stowed it.  

Each of these steps had had it’s own steep learning curve, forgetting a key only to have to drive 2 hours back to the city, arriving to dead batteries, hand cranking jacks, overshooting the backing up, damaging a stay. This was my second camper . The first ‘cheap one’ had taken the beating  of harsh learning in addition to having come with a water leak,  so insurance wouldn’t cover the damage the night the torrential storm flooded,  Laura and me in bed. 

There’s a history and reason for friends saying, “that Laura is a real trooper.”  

After loading groceries. we were on the way again.

When we arrived here 3 pm, we’d left home at 9 am.  

“Maybe most girls would like to sit by a pool in Mexico without any of this hassle but I absolutely love being here,” I said. 

Laura looking over the site we’d found, said “Me too. I love that we’re self contained and don’t have to put up with neighbours.” 

 Admittedly getting older I’d like to be a girl and not have to do all of this stuff to find privacy and peace. It’s just that I have Madigan and he’s not ready for hotels. I’ve had great experiences in hotels.We’ve als had our motel from hell experiences. Every time I’ve been in this camper in the woods has been paradise. I love being away from people.”

‘There are guys who like the simplicity of the hotel experience’ Laura said, “It’s not just girls.” 

“I know but I come from a family of competent men. I really like men who are able to do things. Each of these trips is an expedition and it’s been years of experience and training from childhood for me. Thanks to my  grandfather, father, and older brother I can do what I do today.  I feel sad that some 40% of Canadian men don’t have such an unbroken line of male wisdom and sharing.  I hate the term ‘toxic masculinity’ because so many of the problems in todays world are simply a reflection of the attack on the family by the aetheist communist intellectuals and their policies.” 

“ I didn’t like the trailer coming loose. It’s was the worst but thanks to God we solved the problem. The ATV didn’t roll off the cliff. I ‘ve  learned more lessons. We’re safe. We’re here and it’s paradise, now”. 

“I know, “ Laura said. “”I’m just fried from all the demands of work. Everyone demanding. Constantly with Covid everyone angry. “ There was a quiver in her voice.  

“I just couldn’t take another thing. I feel overwhelmed all the time.  The lockdowns. The lack of resources. Everything.  I just need to get away from people and rest.”

“Now we’re here.” I said. “I’m sorry about the stupid pin. I know better and I’ve got the park brake figured out.  But it’s solved.” I reassured her . Madigan was loving running around peeing on everything. He just begun to lift his leg and it’s funny to watch him balance with male pride. 

I liked my old friend George , telling me after I returned from an expedition.,  “I love to read about your adventures from the comfort of my couch.” I’d like all the glory but I’m not willing to do all the learning and struggle. I appreciate it, though.”  He was a leased car and motel guy. A great doctor and a great friend but he appreciated all that went into the luxuries and comforts we have. 

“I just don’t feel men are appreciated anymore,” I said.  I cross dressed and imagined being a princess, all my needs catered too, a trust fund child.  

“I know there are guys who act like girls but  don’t appreciate all the construction work and defence and policing that went into making that Mexican retreat. It’s the same as guy who rent an RV in the woods. It’s not same as having all the skills and doing it yourself. I don’t respect men who don’t do this and say they don’t want to.  I know they are there. George wasn’t like that. He knew what was entailed, respected and appreciated it and even praised it.  But the guys who say “I don’t want to do it”. They’re making a virtue of necessity.’  They simply couldn’t do it.  I know women and men are doing this today. It’s just the kids who destroy everything and have no respect for the past and have no skills but are screeching and complaining and being offended , they get to me.  The little ‘how dare you, rich priviledged pampered princesses being used by powerful marketing self interests annoy me. How can they be so gullible and stupid.”  I said 

After that I’d taken Madigan and the ATV up the mountain while Laura settled into the camper tidying and organizing it.  She makes a house a home with all her little silliness. 

Laura is in heaven this morning.  We’re both frazzled at the end of work week.  Now we’re healing.  Madigan is pining on the floor at the base of the bed with an occasional bored whimper wanting to be lifted up so he can be entertained by Laura who loves him.

There are so many moving parts that go into these outings. My father did them when we were camping as kids. Mom managed the tenting and campstoves till later in life Dad got the first RV.  Then it was road trips all summer. My only regret is we do this day of labor for only a few days of actual camping and relaxing.  Still, to be here is heaven. Waking to the fresh air and wilderness is spectacular.  I love the propane refridgerator. The propane stove and heater.  The sleep last night with  the stars and moon looking down through the skylight, was so deep and uninterrupted by city noise , until the Madigan  woke me at 5 am.  

I love the toilet and running water in this camper. I have a generator to recharge the batteries but the truck could does that too.  I lovedexploring last night with the ATV.  I drove up into the mountains and could have seen a bear.  Ostensibly I’m hunting. I’d taken Madigan in his rear gunner box.  He’s more and more happy with the ATV.  3 km up in the mountain the air was cold. I could see the snow low and stopped before reaching it.   I dismounted and target practiced. I shot a can on the third shot with my Ruger 30:06. Madigan didn’t mind the gun shots. He was cautious staying close. He’s not had a lot of off leash time in his little life. 

“There’s coyotes out. Everyone is reporting dogs going missing. The coyotes are just needing to feed their young. It happens so fast. So watch out for him.”  Mother Laura had warned as we left.

I’d a gun. I’d known Gilbert to be targeted by coyotes. I liked that Madigan knew to stay close.  He’s a little dog and I feel instinctly he’s anxious in the open. Eagles and vultures in past lives.  He actually jumped up on the seat of the ATV wanting to continue.  Laura later said she thought he was afraid to be left behind. That too. But I love that he likes it. Gilbert my previous cockapoo jumped up on the seat of my Harley wanting to go for a ride where he’d be when we go for for days of motorcycle riding and camping.   

Now we’re here.  It’s amazing.

I remember when we were at the Broken Surfboard cafe in Cabot San Lucas Mexico , A group of us sea captains all sitting around talking about the sail down from Vancouver, Canada,  sharing our harrowing stories and incredible moments.

 “We could have flown here and it would have taken us hours rather than months.” One guy said. 

‘It wouldn’t be the same,” we all answer in unison. 

“We know that but they don’t’. Another captain said, pointing at a table of tourists enjoying this out of the way place that catered to offshore sailers.

“They would have you believe that watching a movie of a woman having a baby is the same thing as having one,” He said. .” They would have you believe that a ‘virtual expertience’ is the same as the real thing. They’d have you believe that playing a war game on computer is the same as being a real soldier in a war. 

They’d have you believe all this. It’s the consumer vision. It’s the drug selling.”.

“ It’s the manager class today” Someone add, “  wanting  you to believe that can learn to lead from a textbook, not appreciating that the men who lead this country had been great warriors and builders before they were presidents and prime minister.”

I remember that incredible afternoon of conversation and laughter today with other sea captains, solo sailors and off shore sailors.   I think of the pompous paper trade  rich and the little boys who lived in the parents basement,  intellectuals like philandering Marx,  who have always been with us  They’re important. There’s  a place for them.  We all have a place. But I am humbled on these vacations by all that men and  women who have gone before doing the work, not just talking.   

I think I cross dress to deal with the anxiety and stress of being a man today.  I would never want to be a woman and have a year of uncertainty and days and nights of labour. I’m terrified of sickness in my puppies. I’d worried when Madigan almost climbed out of his harness, the one I thought was tight enough.  I saw a mother with a little girl in a bicycle back seat tightening up the straps and admired her. I’d not be a mother. I can only admire mothers and fathers, the women and men of this world whose legacy is now being destroyed.  When we talk of the new class of single women and men all offended and critical of the world and the past.  all they seem to be able to do ,is complain. I like the old white guy and the young black guy that stopped and offered a hand yesterday.  There’s talk and there’s carrying wood and drawing water. 

 

Now here I am doing the same. Complaining.  It’s to do with pride. It’s a reaction to the young today tearing down statues and destroying books. They can’t make history. Covid taught us that so many of these new university grads couldn’t even cook. They depended totally on the little noodle cafes that had to be reopened. A generation of young people might have died with covid, killed by starvation, because the lockdown took out their main sustenance, take out noodles.  

I like my friends who garden, make music, paint, build, fix cars.  Nothing like using a pin on trailer instead of a lock to teach humility .  But I sure like being here today. We’re self contained. We have all the comforts and amenities of a five star resort, here in backwoods.  I just walked Madigan who was puppy zooming all around me to the little nearby mountain stream falls that will provide us extra water if we need it. I’ve 5 a five gallon jug and can use that.  The ATV would let me transport it even though it’s only a city block walk away. I could pull up the struts and refill the whole tank because I’ve a suction pump, garden hose and water purification tablets.  As a Boy Scout I really was taught, ‘be prepared’.

I love when Laura and I get away from the maddening crowd camping. That’s the limits of full service campgrounds. Other people.  Variables. Here we might well have a bear visitation but that would be welcome.  But that one time we could hardly go outside without the stockbroker we thought was dementing wanting to talk to us about a new ‘deal’.  

Here we are alone. We’re off the grid. We don’t even have cell service or wifi. I’ve my satellite phone but it’s been having antenna problems. Intermittent. Says emergency calls work but didn’t put through my last call.  Too late to have it fixed for this trip. I have a Hamm radio and VHF but again only for emergencies.  A few hundred yards away there’s passing cars with loggers and campers all day. We’re hardly an hour away from a town. We could walk or ATV there in an hour or two.  It’s all possible but here we’re off the grid for now. We’ve disconnected. The noise is dying down and we’re hearing nature.

I think of the city as an ant hill. I feel my aura pressed down ,constrained. The energy of all those people contained . Here I relax but I also feel my being expand. I feel that lightness of being. We’re in the womb of a forest. Their roots connect over miles.  It’s so calming. All this forest and nature therapy.

We’re predictable. I so enjoy Laura and Madigan. Laura and I’ve been camping for nearly 20 years and I’m pretty much attuned to her easy going nature.  Not when she’s tired or overworked but if I can keep the wolves from the door. She’s pretty content. It’s a low bar. She  says that Covid and the Lockdowns and the chronic despair and anger in the air and the government favouritism and things like arresting campers and ministers but allowing protestors to gather on mass and hold rallies is getting to her. . It makes no sense and that government cronyism and favouritism and lies about science is wearing. Vaccines so far behind schedule due to government incompetence and corruption.  War and rumours of war.  Totalitarianism.  Taxes and more taxes.  Identity politics. Divide and conquer. That great sense that there are people smoking way too much dope in Ottawa and are running the country,  demanding more and more of the citizens to make up for their greed and  utter incompetence.

I like my friends who four wheel drive and ride motorcycles having the courage and competence to be dependable.  I love being  among doctors with real skills. I like that I delivered babies, set fractures, did surgery and I can know which med to use for what and diagnose and treat mental illness ,the most complex of all. I’m thankful I can recognise addiction and know what can cure it.  I m sorry I’ve become a bit jaded and weary with experience but I’m so glad not to be have that utopian adolescent ignoranus that so declares one’s lack of experience.  

I am so thankful for my parents, my brother, my mentors and teachers.  I’ve been truly blessed.  I can appreciate nature only as a musician can appreciate music having played an instrument . I have gardened poorly so love the work of God in this incredible garden called earth. I am amazed that there are men who have together put men on the moon and are planning manned flights to Mars. I loved scuba diving and spear fishing and am amazed at the depths that people are going down in the sea finding prehistoric creatures still there in the deepest sea exploring.  I love all the learning and the constant exploration, the babies being born, the remote cameras that can watch the birds feeding their new born young in the nest. I love the drones and the photography and communication and all the computer tech guys who make these machines work that allow me to sit and transfer the stuff of my mind to this electronic Ipad page. I’m so thankful my mom taught me to type.  I love skills.  Life is an adventure in learning. It’s not the things we own but the knowledge that go with them that’s exciting.  

I’m really thankful for this morning and my beautiful friend, Laura, a mother, and a grandmother, and now Madigan’s fur baby mother.  I was here last year alone after Gilbert, my previous cockapoo, died. I was hunting grouse then. I shot a grouse. Without Gilbert nearly a dozen got away.  I hiked into the mountains each day and got a lot of exercise. I could have hiked into the mountains this morning. There’s a trail nearby. I wanted to use the ATV but now I’m thinking I’ll walk up the same path whose steepeness nearly did me in.  I can take the gun and Madigan and get some exercise. I can also make eggs for breakfast. I’ve had a second cup of coffee.  

I have a day and sun is coming up .It’s only 8:30.  How wonderful is that. I used to love looking at the day of summer holidays as a kid planning where I’d explore on my bike or getting together with my friend Kirk to do ‘stuff’ together.  That’s the feeling I have now.  Laura and I can do ‘stuff’ together or we can do our own thing.  We have time and space and no interruptions.  Madigan is asleep. Thank god. He’s been a zooming puppy and constantly needing attention. Laura gave him attention this morning and I got to sit here , a mental wanker, reflecting , writing, , unloading my mind, making room for the new.  Squishing the pus out of my brain.  

All I miss is excess water. I love long showers and having to haul water or ration it makes me appreciate the luxury I so often take for granted.  Being here makes being home so much more enjoyable. Each of the things we do for camping are reduced to convenience in the home. We take the heat and water and indoor plumbing for granted. I can call a repair man. A plumber, an electrician. I ‘ve specialists “on the Rolodex” see constact list for the young.  Here I’ve the challenge of self reliance.  True self reliance is true humility.  It’s here I learn to appreciate all I have, the help, and friends, those luxuries.    I’m so thankful.

Madigan has curled up by the door and made a moan as he rolled over to get more comfortable. Laura is reading. I’m likely going to move to the next event. Maybe reading. Maybe walking. Maybe dressing.  Maybe getting out the lawn chairs in preparation for the sun which is rising in the sky.  Maybe a walk or ride.  Maybe a nap. Thank you God for this unscheduled vacation.  Thank you for the chore of planning the next moment.  This camping is best called glamping.  

Homo Sapiens - by Harari

I bought this  2014 book two years ago.  I started it, reading maybe a third before I put it down. I liked it enough.I’d read H.G. Wells, History of the World as a teen. Later I’d be moved by Future Shock and Culture of Narcissism. It was that kind of read.  Seminal, they’d say, in history circles. Yet I’d found the author at times pedantic, opinionated, and even pompous.  I didn’t feel this eway about Guns, Germs and Steel by Diamond or Niall Ferguson’s Ascent of Wealth, a Financial History of the World,  or Paul Johnso’s  Modern Times, great read I’d so enjoyed.  It was that sort of Omnibus Read.  But I’d put it down. I was reading a History of Christianity at the time and I’d bogged down reading that too. I often have several reads on the go and with work I have to read increasing amounts of drivel and nonsense.

But a friend commented on Homo Sapiens. She’d really enjoyed Harari and I'd almost unfairlly damned him with faint praise.  The truth is I’d not finished his book and it really was well written and quite brilliant at the time. He certainly was erudite.  I’d wearied of marketting and saless, all that propaganda nonsense that passes as subtlety but irritates me in my advancing years. I realized I’d been unfair to Harari.  It was in the midst of Covid, being bludgeoned by misinformation and disinformation, lies and corruptions, Anitida uprising and Capitol hill mobs,  creating an overwheming stench when I picked Homo Sapiens up again. We quite well might be on the verge of something. War and Rumors of War.  Did Harari have an answer?

I was jealous of Harari, I realized.  It was clear in his thinking he knew something. With Rolling Stones singing Living in a Ghost Town, lockdowns and hysteria, I’d fallern to  reading westerns and erotic romance for escapism, binging watching Netflix tv. Animal Kingdom, the Crown, Tombstone, Flea Bag. It was getting me through the day.  So much despair and loss, depression and anxiety.  i’d just read Kate Lister’s a Curious History of Sex and could hardly put it down. it well research but also so wittingly written.  I considered Harrari more substantial.  He did make history appealling though like a Druidic Story teller he wove patterns with words.  He cast a spell.  I settled down to listen.  I am glad I did.

I was younger when I read the great omnibus reads and less opinionated and judgemental myself. I wouldn’t have noticed that when Harrari was critical of Christianity he didn’t mention Judaism and was almost gentle with Islam. He barely commented on Hinduism but almost sang the praises of Leonard Cohen’s Buddhism, his knowledge apparently deep yet almost superficial and very biased all the while he presented as unbiased in that deeply offensive way that the politically correct do. I kept asking who his audience was and realized he was writing to appease or appeal to his masters. Now who did he see these were I kept asking?  

Marx said Money is the God of the Jews. Harari certainly made a case for the religion of materialism and secularism.   I was half way through when I looked him up, finding he taught at the University of Jerusalem. I’d actually thought he was Persian at one point. I did though like how he included the Armenians and Georgians.  Later I’d really like how he brought in South America and Africa. He’d been focussing so much on ancient China and Europe. Yet his ideas were magical. Great swaths of data gathered and woven into this masterful tapestry.  

I actually grew to like him.  Halfway through the book I looked forward to reading it, not quite like a war thriller, or a Clancy.. He wasn’t Khalla or Coban. But there reaally was a Jurassic Park quality in the writing. He was truly brilliant. History as fiction. The whole notion that we have the imaginative scenarios and we prop them up with a whole lot of ritual. He gave us ancient history but he really got into his stride in modern times making sense of the Corprate power that toppled governments and the scientific advances that were so recent , mere hundreds of years or daring after  hundreds of thousands of caution.  I actually loved his explanation of exploration and colonialism and was delighted with his discussion of the ideas of religions and ideology, the confusion created by different words with similiar meanings.  He really was extremely erudite. 

I felt like I’d attended a lecture by a master. I’d signed up for a lecture by psychologist Jordan Peterson a year ago, cancelled by Covid, only because I’d loved  the way Peterson debated,more like a supreme court judge than an academic. I’d loved Steven Hicks lectures on philosophy yet here was this giant of literature and history, Harari,  entertaining me with his wit. He had a wealth of knowledge but his skill was selection.  

As I progressed I really did like his comments on behaviourist Harlow.  He mentioned Freud but didn’t give Victor Frankl his due though he was clearly a student of Seligman discussing happiness in modern times versus happines in medieval times. It was my area of expertise and I frankly thought he did a magnificent overview. Which is what he was doing with history. Overviews of economics, anthropology, culture, sociology, ethics and religions. I’d read Fields of Blood a marvellous work of history exploring whether religion or politics caused war.  There was the same selection bias and yet I couldn’t help but rememer the great talking head flick of all time, Dinner with Andre. The more I read Harari the more I felt like I was at a retreat with one of the spiritual masters, like Richard Rohr or Trungpa.   He told stories of facts like Jesus or the Dubliners. There was that quality of being given insights like the classic Spirituality of Imperfections gave to the wisdom teaching. More political and still with talk of war but nonetheless he included the bio engineering of a phosphorescent green bunny. He talked of the cyborg future and gave whole chapters  each of which could be a Ted’s talk on it’s own  

Crime overall is declining. War overall is declining. The life epectancy is increaing. Gigameth is a project of immortality. Science is religion.  Yet as different as life and death. There’s a novelty in the notion of today and yesterday, our perception of then so coloured by our immersion in now. Harari hints at this but doesn’t quite laugh at himself as one might imagine Kate Lister laughing at herself.  There’s a vanity to man and by the end of this great read I was actually amused by the human Harari.  He could admit to be lost as well as the next but there was an amusement to his predictament.  A reason for carrying on.  

I suppose I was arrogant when I first read Harrari, before Covid, before the disillusionment with politics and academics.  Yet I am so glad I picked him up after she said how much she liked him. It was in fact a gift of a read, an omnibus account of life, little weak on music and art but with a whole lot of the stuff that we learned with dates and numbers and names of self important people marketted by the powerful..  History is always written by the winners. Men but even nthe occasional woman gains  fame. Harari does well to mention Georgia, and talk of the little guys and gals suffering under the kings and queens, bankers and generals.   It was a serious work. There was a bit of tantalising porn for the intellectual, even some bits of Australian wankerism at times.

It didn’t leave me feeling like Waiting for Godot but again it gave me hope.  Slouching towards Bethlehem or Baghdad for that matter, Beijing or Washtington, London or Rio de Janeira I felt there was something special in a monkey sent to outer space. I suspect that Adams of Hitchker’s Guide to the Gaxay fame or Mr. Bean might well enjoy Harrari as much as Obama or Reagan. It might even appeal to a Saudi Prince though I doubt that Xi Jinping would care for it.  There are always those who read for dominance and would never like a DH Lawerence account of love.  Harari loves history, his subject and clearly us Homo Sapiens. That was what redeemed the work.  He is truly interested in all of us, the big guy and the little guy, the girls and the boys, the babies and the greats. It’s that kind of read. It was the Economist and New Yorker written with a view to the person who would like to listen to the BBC or watch PBS but not be above reading a People magazine waiting in line at the supermarket..  

Today, Friday, May 14, 2021

I am so thankful to reach the unscheduled weekend. I’ve done four days of scheduled meetings and on call time outside the 8 or 9 hour days. I feel sometimes in a tunnel or a factory converter. It’s always a rush and I’m forever apologizing. The systemic problems are massive. A model based on weekly visits and easy follow up is now numerous consults interspersed with months apart visits and emergencies requiring schedule changes. I did a webinar and a sessional focus group. I worry I’m stressed. I look with jealousy on colleagues who seem relaxed and happy. I’m only that way camping. Even these weekends are errands and calls, administration and projects.  I want to wallow in self pity, rage with the sentiments of revenge porn that dominate movies and tv. I want the timelessness of youth, summer vacations, holidays, young love.  I would live my memories. I could easily enjoy a rerun. I’d do it better I hope.  So much angst and pressure.  Relax I might have said but the ‘beatniks are out to make it rich’ really was true. I was forever fighting the status quo to save a life. If only I’d had that hierarchy kiss ass do as I was told thing down. I laughed to hear another doctor say they never had more than 2 borderlines and 2 addicts in their practice at any time because they’re so difficult and demands so much time. Ive made that my practice and have to talk to junior inexperienced arrogant hypocrites as I’ve done my time and duty and didn’t get any medals because they don’t reward us out beyond the wire. I worked with the dangerous insane. What does it mean. It means I’m defending myself from a knife in a hallway hoping to live.  It means I’m one of a group piling on the biggest strongest guy I’ve known trying to kill me and thankful for the head nurse who finally got the needle in the neck.

I’m alone.  I’m meditating and praying. I’m talking to my dog or to God. I’m asking for help and guidance. I want protection. I’m so left with the residual fear of what I saw the corrupt and powerful did. Thank God for Robert Hare’s Psychopaths in Suits. They have nice hair and talk nice and dress like lawyers and have hollow hearts and smile like chameleons.  They are given power because they lack this other thing. This empathy or focus.  They were at Nuremberg. The banality of evil.

My mind slides there.

It’s a sunny day. I’m here with a dog and I’m waiting for a UPS package I think is the new Ipad.  I’ve lots I can do but I’m feeling a motivated.  Lazy was what we used to call that. There’s so much euphemism today it’s hard to understand what people are say. Neutral words. Homogenization. I enjoyed reading.  I could shower and dress. It might be time for another coffee. I have paper work that needs doing. I procrastinate. I’ve calls I could make .  In the four days of work there are constant demands and then this time comes and I just muddle along doing the next right thing.

I had thought to go to the storage locker. Get some of the summer things out and maybe take over some winter stuff. I want to go camping. With Gilbert I’d go int the backwoods and set up a tent and have a cold night and wake to spring frost enjoying the stars and fresh air. So many times I did that in April and Main.  I think about motorcycle camping. With Madigan he’s not ready for a long ride. It would take me a couple of hours to do get up Duffy Lake. I long to do that circle route and camp by the road but I also have this little guy whose still chewing and squirming and causing mayhem.  

I walked him by the river where he’s getting the habit to poop.  It’s a ways away but all week we’ve managed that routine.  I’ve a good morning schedule. My evening falls downs with the cacophony of emotions in the day of work. I used to be better shielded but now it all affects me. Covid.  Thee hot tubs jets used to give me easy. I once cycled after work. Evening classes in theology. Dinners with friends. Meetings. All those ways I had of buffering the despair. Now it’s palpable.  

But today I’m free. I’m relatively happy. The sun makes all the difference. If it gets hot I might be able to lie outside on the deck chair in the sun. Medicinal Vit D. 

I imagine sex would be good.  Some starship holo deck to act out a fantasy without the other. The Chinese sex dolls. How appropriate that the Communists greatest achievement is a wanker device that doesn’t talk back. The leftist is always adolescent intellectual arrogant and knowing what is right. I told a committee that I had been ruined by years of being called to sit in on government designed medical committees in which it was immediately apoparent that the ‘we’d like your input’ meant we want you to rubber stamp our bullshit. We who have half the education and none of your experience want to play administration and impress the people who hired us with our new reshuffling of deckchairs on the titanic.

I carry this negativity and slide into it. I let the resentments take hold of me and suck the joy out of my soul.

I’m watching and my dog just ate the container of food I put down for him two days ago and now he’s chewing on the container.  He’s growing.  He mainly likes to eat what I eat so I eat more steak because that’s good for both of us. I had two salads this week as well. He doesn’t like salad but at least I get some peace eating them. 

He grows smarter each day. I will miss the puppy days but frankly I really liked my older dog. Gilbert, Stuart and Shinto were all such fine companions. But I want a cat. They had the cat as their buddy.  I could have another dog too.  I’d feel less compulsion to be with him all the time.  

Rambling thoughts. Circumstantial and tangential. I’ve two books I’m working on. I ‘should’ be writing. But instead I’m babbling. No focus. I’m not aiming at anything. Today I’m just surviving, recovering from another tough week.  I’m paying bills too. I like that.  I’d like the mortgage paid.  It will be.  I keep plodding forward. Slouching slowly along.

I have noticed the fine wrinkles of sun lines on my face. The sailors sun exposure.

I always think of sex changes. I don’t think of being a woman in work clothes but my anima is the relaxing lounging sensuous half and my warrior animus is weary to the max.  Constant attack by the corrupt cronyism of the psychopaths and sociopaths greedy and evil.  Now I’m too old to fight and accept if rape is inevitable I should lie back and enjoy it. They now call the new ‘obedience’ courses ‘leadership training’.  I’m jaded.

Thank you God for the sun. Thank you for my health today. Thank you for the health of Madigan. Thank you for the health and wellness of family .Watch over the babies and little ones. Take care of the new born and the new mothers. Help our friends in hospital.  Guide me. Show me the way. Thank you for all the blessings you have bestowed on me. Thank you for the gifts of recovery. Thank you for this day. May I continue to help and serve and be guided by your love.  Free my mind of past trauma and memories of old wars and help me to forgive those who hurt me and hurt others.  Thank you Angel Michael. Thank you St. Francis. Thank you St. Thomas. Thank you Jesus. Thank you God of Gods. . Thank you St. Patrick. Thank you all your blessings and the goodness and light that is beyond all understanding. Thank you.

Madigan - biker dog

Madigan’s done another ride in his Trev Deeley Biker Dog riding box.  I moved him from the passenger seat to the top of the world on the box. He really liked the view.  We drove to the dog park where he had a little run.  It’s now his first time being left outside while I run into a store. He didn’t like that. Lots of cries and barking and then he stopped being a little dog and jumped up on the table where he could be a big dog. The barking stopped and he waited quietly.

A little drama unfolded. I don’t go to Starbucks much anymore. I always preferred Blenz and a number of the local cafe’s but it’s Madigan’s first longer ride and I’m trying to keep the trips short for him. There were tables outside and a parking spot where I could watch the bike. It’s Vancouver so I worry about the new bag being stolen.  It’s only strapped on. Further the Starbucks had a window and the tell right by the door so I could watch him as I ran in and out.  

So much for expectation.  Two girls before me began to do their Huffington Post Starbucks routine with the barista. It didn’t help it was a different language.  Then suddenly a boy about 10 approaches Madigan who is now terrified and his whole body language is fear as he pulls far away.  I run out and tell the boy. “Leave my dog alone. You are never approach a dog who is not alone when it is tied up and alone.” 

He actually sneers at me.  And moves further towards the dog.  “Get away from my dog.” I raise my voice.  Meanwhile another child, what appears to be his sister, has been standing and watching and now she moves in on Madigan.  I tell her. “Stay away from my dog.” Laughing at me , she walks away. She only backs away when I ‘command her” “Don’t touch my dog.”  They walk away looking back with that ‘what’s your problem”.  

As I’m about to go back into the Starbucks, a young man, maybe in his 30’s,maybe 40’s, blocks my path. 

“Did you just shout at children”.  

“Yes, they wouldn’t leave my dog alone.”

“You can’t shout at children.”

“Yes, I was afraid they’d hurt my dog. They wouldn’t leave him alone.”

“They wouldn’t hurt you dog.” He said.

That’s when I knew he was a total idiot. A fist class loser. He knew nothing about children. He knew nothing about dogs. He was a trouble maker. An instigator. 

I was a big old biker and he has major fathers issues. 

“You know nothing. Don’t talk to me and get out of my way.”  

He moved out of my way then.  I thought of Darwin awards. I had just wanted a coffee. I knew I shouldn’t leave the dog alone for a moment. I ‘d already seen a child attack my Scotty hitting it with a stick while it was tied to a post. I don’t know what his issue was that he’d attack a tied dog. His mother ran up but a police man had been standing there.  She began screaming my dog had frightened her child who she was now holding to her with the stick visibly still in his hand.

Tom was there in West VAncouver as we sat on a patio with the Scotty tied beside us. Tom had gone in for the order and stayed at watch Stuart. Now we were eating out lunch when this woman came up right beside us and told her 6 or 7 year old son , “Take stick. Poke dog in eye. Make much money....Now. Now!”  The Scotty backed away as far as he could while the boy began to approach him with a stick.  I jumped off the patio and got between the boy and Stuart.  The boy looked relieved.  The mother looked solely like she’d missed an opportunity. insurance scammers and thieves.  Multiculturalism just means that the number of sociopaths and psychopaths have increased with their devious ways to take advantage of a culture and people adapting poorly to the influx of criminals and economic migrants from other lands whose families didn’t see me as human.  That’s who we as a species justify our poor behaviour. We imagine lines and put the other guy other the other sides.  She wasn’t kind. She might steal from her sister even or sacrifice her son for money.  A true psychopath or she might just be a clever sociopath who saw an economic opportunity.  

Lenin called the loser’ a useful idiot’.  Only after I realized my mistake.  

“No I didn’t shout at the children” I should have said. That’s the politically correct response. Lie, lie, deny, deny.  I’m growing deaf and his ‘false accusation’ was disrespectful of my hearing impairment. Laura says I’m talking louder. 

The truth is I shouldn’t have left Madigan even for a moment. It’s likely against the law though I was a few feet away inside a door.  The ‘useful idiot’ knows the law is on the side of whoever knows the ‘latest language’.  King Lear said to his daughter ‘we’ll talk of court things.”  I so miss the cartoonist who yearly reported the ‘outlawed words’ in the Georgia Strait. He selected all the key ‘bureaucratic phases’ that had been abused the year before and stated they could not be used in the coming year. Words like ‘sustainability’ and ‘science’ and ‘climate change’.  Power words that the mob shouts because the propagandists have paid anyone savvy enough to use the words that were the ‘fashion of the week’.  Today it’s ‘racism’.  

Now thanks to Starbucks I’ve learned a lesson and had a story. I used to love Starbucks especially overseas.  I ‘m sorry they’re attracting the cultural riff raff. 

A delightful older Chinese man who witnessed the whole drama, laughed as I passed, “Dog smarter than that man,” he said. “Children’s parents should teach them.” I always thought culture wasn’t about colour or something deeper, like character. 

My brave little biker dog, jumped up on the table after the children and the idiot laughed and I ran in for my coffee and came back.  He likes this Starbucks. Lots of great smells. 

Sadness

I am sad. I had one patient describe the sense of  feeling ‘burnt out, exhausted, sad and helpless.’  I could relate. I’m increasingly afraid of the authorities which isn’t new but now they have outlawed freedom of association, freedom of speech and claim to care for us all while hypocritically flying about the world, doing visits to the Bahamas and going to political rallies when it suits them while banning wedding and funeral gatherings. 

I asked what the specialists thought about my patients family dying after having the vaccine. I asked about my patient who is on a resperiator who has had a vaccine. I reflected on the 60’s Kennedy missile crisis when I was 10 I think and they told us to line up along the wall in the school and kiss our asses good bye. I’d been reading. I asked what about the ‘radiation’. The young teacher ran about in a circle crying then ran out of the room only to have the principle come back to punish me, 

“Billy, how dare you upset the lady teacher’. 

 “I just asked her about radiation’.  

“Don’t ask questions. It just upsets them.”

Now I’m told that asking questions about the vaccines and about Covid may be ‘spreading misinformation and disinformation’.  

‘Don’t upset the indigenous people because they are vulnerable.” They say. 

I don’t have the ‘Jew card”, “I don’t have the ‘race card’, “I don’t have the ‘gender card’. I don’t have the ‘weath card’. I don’t have a whole lot of those cards I’m bashed with. 

When I was beaten by teachers with hammers and straps I was told “Billy, deserved it.”  When I was stabbed , “Billy was looking for trouble.”  When I was raped “you shouldn’t have been smoking dope.”  When I was raped again, “You should have known he was gay and not been drinking with him.”  When I was surrounded by a swat team, “You should have driven 5 hours at night to the police station after those men accosted you with guns and threatened you. They came in first so they’re the ones who were first served.’  ‘when the bush plane crashed you should have know he was a drunk.’ ‘When the DC3 crashed, why do you think the smart doctors didn’t work in the north, in the country, in the ghetto? “ straight A’s, high IQ, great family, but never ‘smart enough’ or ‘Billy’s way too smart’. 

When she left me ‘you should have treated her better.’  When she cuckolded me ‘if you’d been man enough she would never have gone with another man’. When you fired her for doing drugs on the job and she said you told her to ‘fuck off’, “You shouldn’t have used the ‘fuck’ word when you were asking her to leave.”  When you refused to lie for her so she could make millions of dollars in compensation, and she said you propositioned her after,  The woman doctor in charge said ,”Women don’t lie about sex.”  When your female boss asked you to come home with her and touched your crotch, you should have known she’d pay you back. You never say no to a woman.” 

When your wife said no women like oral sex and it’s vulgar for women to touch men’s cocks with their lips and you’d spent years licking her because ‘that’s the only way I can orgasm’, you should not have let the the gorgeous young bikini clad doctor in that hot tub give you a blow job when you were drunk and she said those magic words. “I love doing deep throat. I love giving a man pleasure”  

When You we’re a nice guy and heard each day how well the ‘bad guys’ get treated, all those girls telling you about their pimps and all those sons telling you about their mothers paying for them. And you always worked and they told you you should be good and when they broke the laws you defended the innocent and they punished you with them. You were held hostage and terrified. You had nightly phone calls threatening your death. You were stalked by beautiful insane schizophrenic women who stood outside your house and your wife said you should do some thing about that. The police wouldn’t do anything . She was a cross the street, in blizzard and rainstorms, a waif. The neighbours complained. They complained when you  diagnosed the gang members with alcoholism forcing them to go to treatment centre to keep their union jobs. They nightly smashed bottles on your car and dumped beer cans on your door step and the police did nothing. Your windows were shot out and it was just another day at the office. 

They were frightening. They killed your dog because you wouldn’t lie and always there was some stupid burocrats grandiosely telling you how you should have acted and he’d never had the military or hell’s angels as patients and he’d never treated geniuses or had Olympic athletes as patients or fought off a gang or reported a killer or defended a lawyer who reported a pedophilic judge. He lived small and played it safe and was smug and glad to lord it over you. An ugly runt of a troll. He was a passive aggressive little shit.  Because he lived little and so enjoyed smugly pissing on a colleague and showing who was stop dog.  God I’m tired of having  little grandiose functionary apparatchiks, these men and women ‘useful idiots’  ‘happy cabbages’ and those who live ‘lives of quiet desperation’ , those who at Nuremberg were described as the ‘banality of evil’ playing their Monday morning football critic games from their space station bunkers.

I’m tired of doing other peoples jobs because they are afraid and dirty. I’m tired of the lick and kick of the government hierarchy. I’m tired of my loss of innoscence.  I hate having people shoot at me with illegal guns laughing because they’re criminals and they don’t obey the law. I’m tired of seeing the millionaires I know who became millionaires by being criminals.  

I’ve old and sad with age. Like Leonard Cohen said <“I want a new face. The skin damage from climbing mountains , skiing backwoods slope and blue water sailing in the tropics, snowstorms in the tundra, going through ice in the skidoo, walking freezing mile to save the old man and child from dying. I sore from the motorcycle crashes and flipped ATv’s. 

I’m thankful for all the experiences and now each day my back hurts and I can’t  say if it’s the plane crashes or the reckless driver who hit my car causing it to do pitch poles and rolls down the hill or the fellow who didn’t fix the brakes on the camper so it did donuts around the truck and pulled us into the ditch flipping off the freeway. All I could think was how much worse this could be. 

 I think my back is the chair I’m sitting in and the desk. I think it’s the couch.  I think it could be the dangerously insane patient I wrestled off the nurse, all those many times i saved others lives and didn’t have time to stretch and prepare myself for an effete work out.  It’s amazing how fast a psychotic murderer moves from catatonic to high speed and how seconds are critical to saving the lives of little nurses who only then actually thank the men who are on the ward while all the rest of the time they’re saying ‘men are as useful to women as bicycles are to fish.’

I don’t have a ‘nurse car’ or a ‘psychologist’. ‘I’d rather see a psychologist but they’re expensive and you are free’. All day long now someone wants me to do legal or administration work. I need you to write this letter. I can’t pay you for it. My lawyer and the advocates are costing me all my money.

‘They said I had to see you befor I can get free heroin’

‘You make more money doing abortions’

‘We can pay you more if you help our MAid program.

The war is coming. China Sea and Iran in the Middle East. I’m supposed to feel safe because the women are going to protect me.  The girls who are offended by everything and all they can do is criticize and complain and bitch on Huffington Post. They look pretty , choose Trudeau and Singh as our commanders in chief. They both have pretty hair. The girls  claim they changed their minds. The enemy will serve them as easily as their own. The  mothers don’t seem to be like they once were.

 I miss my mom. She ‘d kill for me and at the same time tell me ‘you want something to cry about.’ If i was dead she’d say ‘walk it off’.  I miss my grandmothers , unstoppable women, who had such faith in God.

Monty Pytho, “Always look on the bright side of life.’   That was my grandparents. If God closes a door he opens a window and it’s your job to find it.

I feel used.

And we all laugh and say ‘get down off the cross, we can use the wood.’

I want to suck on the tit of self pity. I want to dance with despair. I want to lie in my bed all day and cry and let someone else take care of me. I want a legion of government paid services for complaining.  But no I’ll just get up and work so a fat cat administrator can get rich off our gruelling labour and then  ‘dress us down’.  These little boys and girls are so big when they Grind us down demanding perfection while fucking up daily. What losers. What hopelessly impossible pathetic sick freaks.  Elliott called them “hollow men’.  Yes.

I heard a girl make beautiful music yesterday. She and her friends wrote songs and they were reminiscent of Steely Dan and Dolby Brothers. Some thing beautiful and new coming into the world. My phone began playing Handel in the background as a man complained about the despair of lockdowns and fear of Covid. I know Heisenberg and Schoerdinger Cat. Holy Spirit come. I want to know god.  “My sweet lord!”  I want to be uplifted on eagles wings.  Jesus waid ‘do not be afraid’.  Be here now.  Be present.  This too shall pass. She says she’ll see me when it’s convenient.  

I’ve done all I can do. I’ve given houses and years and it’s never enough.  Hedonism and neediness. Dependency.  Entitlement.  Narcissism.  Projection and gaslighting.

“Forgive them for they know not what they do.’

If you say that you are tired, they say they are more tired.  If you say that you are poor they argue they are more poor. They insist on the child role. They insiste on being taken care of and if you don’t let them fuck you they will fuck you over.  I’m afraid.

Jesus said ‘Do not be afraid.’

The friends have children.

I have a dog.  I say to myself I have to live because I have a dog.  He needs me. Everyone else just uses me.  He’s my idiot. HE has the ‘dog card’.  

Master.

The disciples and I am little different from my dog. Yesterday he tore up my comforter. Stuffing all over the bed. Today it was stuffing from a toy. He smiles. He is so proud of himself and I like this companion. He’s reliable and true. He doesn’t lie.

My friends are in the ICU and others are wondering if they will lose a leg or if their knee will be okay for walking. Some have cancer. I’m doing pretty good by comparison. I’m feeling okay really. One cup short in terms of coffee. Needing a shower and getting dressed for work. I m pretty blessed. It’s sunny day. I’ve walked the dog.  I loved the fresh air by the river. It’s beautiful here.  My mind is unreliable. It slips so easily into ‘restless, irritable, and discontent’. I have to do so much to keep on the god channel. I fight catastrophising and self pity all day. I reassure and uplift and advise and help and answer endless questions. I prescribe. It’s my fault they don’t work never the manufacturer or the pot or alcohol or lack of exercise or the hours of tv and social media. It’s my job to make them happy.  

I’m sad and weary and suffering the chronic despair of daily misery.  I struggle to turn on the screen and lift up the phone. It’s another day of political lockdowns and persecution of God and totalitarianism.  I can’t kill myself. The dog needs me. If it wasn’t the dog, it would be a cat or a mouse. Or maybe a spider or an ant.  You need me God as I need you.