It’s a grey and dreary rainy day here at Harrison. I took Madigan out for a pee. Shorts and a t shirt. Wet roads. Flip flops. I’ve of an age when my Calvin Klein under wear, shorts, will pass inspection from a distance. The advantage of aging. I’ve got less concern about my dress and others share my lack of concern.
I haves flashes of earlier age. It’s like a present with reverberations of earlier me, of cares and concerns that no longer track. I love being in bed with Laura. She’s so beautiful. But also when folk talk about a person as home rather than a place.
This mobile home is a Gypsy caravan with the girl and the dog. I’m having stove top expresso and enjoying it.
My first quick glance at the news was positive, the Johnston of the Trudeau family stepped down from his silliest buggery ‘rapporter’ position, a Trudeau nonsense attempting to cover up the election violations that had the Liberals ‘stealing’ the election from the conservatives with Beijing money and threats. Trudeau is a traitor. The Dictatorship of the WEF is on us. In the south the lies of Jan 6, are out , showing the White House guards opening doors and walking the worst of the supposed worst about the White House , dozens of armed guards and unarmed ‘domestic terrorists’. The FBI are coming out more and more corrupt. Media lies of the kind Stalin and Mao were famous for. Now Biden stands up there with Castro. Here in Canada we learn that Trudeau was complicit in the greatest election fraud of Canada’s history. Mass immigration to turn a first world country into a third world country. The image of the Canadian PM paying a known terrorist who killed and American medic 10 million dollars is followed a RCMP horses trampling an old lady in a freedom rally. ‘Freedom’s just another world for nothing less to loose!”
“Everything and everyone can be bought in third world country’s’” she said. Where is the unbuyable Nader when we need him.
So that’s the political rabbit hole. War and rumours of war. Somewhere out there in social media/media world but here there’s the patter of rain on the room and a veritable goddess sleeping in the bed with a dog curled up beneat the table by my feat. This is real. That’s not. This is here and now. This is.
The air smells so fresh here. The Hotsprings Pool opens at 10 am. I see that Laura has turned over. From here I can just see her elbow moving. I think she’s reading here iPhone. She connects with her sister, daughter and neice each morning, checking in on her family, happy theyr’e well, entertained by their endeavours. Her personal soap opera. I’ll make her a coffee. She really deserves to be cared for. I try. Madigan worships her then tries to hump her shoulder. I’m glad in the camper, he can’t get up into this bed with us. He’s a real nutbar.
I didn’t dream of work. I was dreaming of work last week. I went through the nightmares of the weekend of the college, a terrible return of all the PTSD hysteria and catastrophising, remembering feeling utterly helplessness held hostage, then the utterly abusive judge who worked for the criminal, then the lying crack smoking psychopath who rallied the college and other government agencies to her side while her biker loser boyfriend threatened my life, and the crazy cow in authority saying ‘women don’t lie about sex’, the man threatening my life and the callous police doing nothing, nothing, nothing, the guy who threatened me and my dog with his off leash pit bull and no consequences. My dog was blind at the time, slowly dying of an enlarging heart and injured back, hardly able to walk.
I’m increasingly deaf from the medication I took for a year for the TB I acquired flying into Indian Reserves back when I worked for the University and Indian Affairs when it was called Indians affairs. Indigenous is the preferred term this week, aboriginal out of fashion. I’m now Irish and Scottish Canadian and I liked it better when I was just Canadian. But Singh and Trudeau are doing the fringe politics that made Hitler famous. The SS were dominated by pedophiles too. Epstein list remains protected damming all in Washington by association. Mel Gibson has a documentary coming which shall be incredible since he was a whistle blower on Hollywood. Pedophilia is a disease. The complicity of courts is to include post pubescent sex offenders in this group. Sex with the prepubescent children is against nature. Sex with teens is merely against the law. The grandiosity of godless men would argue other wise. The pride of judges and beurocrats and government .Doctors are humbled by nature. The greatest sadness of our days is that arts students aren’t required to study biology. These are ludicrous times. In some future of the multiverse children will read with horror of the insaniety of our age, so little different from the religion of the cargo cults. We are such a silly lot.
I’m as likely to wear unisex clothing, a sarong from sailing days and earrings but have no interest in children. The communist state is against family and I love family, miss my own as the old died . I’m an elder in this branch and still feel seventeen. I get no respect. The very thought makes me old.
Normally I wake and get out of bed to pray and meditate But here I have gone straight to coffee. Walking Madigan around the lagoon I like to sit looking at the lake and mountains and give thanks to God. Sitting in the hot pool and hot tubs I recite prayers to myself. Our father, Hail Mary. All shall be well. Lying on lawn chairs I pray and meditate. Not working I like to pray. Working it’s often prayers for guidance and protection. Not working gratitude and thanks. I try to pray unceasingly and hope one day I will.
I took her coffee and caught of glimpse of her beautiful face poking out of the mess of hair as she reached out for the cup, the black strap of her lingerie , the extended bare arm and sculptured hand. She reminded me yesterday we met in our 40’s . I think of her as a teen as I think of myself, a couple of high school lovers. She’s a grandmother and I don’t see it. I feel older only because my back aches since I slipped in the rain climbing Arthur’s Seat in Edinburgh last year. In my mind I’m little more than layers of thoughts on the little boy who hid behind my mother’s skirts when approached by strangers. Now my back hurts and I find it harder to stand up from getting down on the floor. I feel vulnerable. Twisting hurts and I love the hotsprings. I imagine that weightlessness in the space station would be as appealing.
“He ain’t heavy, he’s my broteher.!” I do find myself reflecting on my teen years, 20’s and thirties.
Just the other day I thought of our late night discussions about ‘changing the system’ from within or without. It was the Vietnam War era and we were concerned about the military industrial complex and arms dealers and war maker. I argued for changing the system from within. Other’s argued for ‘opting out’. Now looking at Trudeau and Singh it’s never been so bad. As teens and 20’s we were hippies or weekend hippies, mostly interested in sex and dance and being free. The wood stock marijuana was like beer. We drank wine too. We were so active the effects were muted. We talked about social revolution , nudity, music. The music of the day was the source of philosophy and theology. I was reading the Bible,Bhagadvagita, Buddha, Lao Tze, Torah, and Koran. They were heady days. A couple of friends of the late night discussions went off to Africa as missionaries, another became a Rosicrucian. We spent time in Toronto with the Thosophical Society. My first wife was reading Neitzhe and fashion magazines. We were dancing and appearing on tv. I was writing poetry and wanted to be a screen write. Bicycling across Europe , playing chess and meeting so many others our age from so many different lands we were like the Moveable Feast.
Today I miss the easy sensuality but ironically love being with Laura whose presence is revolutionary like the love of a naughty nun. We laugh together and I remember the hippy era as laughter. The pomposity and pretentiousness was there but no so prominent as it is today. We were together against the man. Joan Baez said we were all climbing the mountain but couldn’t see each other because the few at the top had shit machines to pour shit down. That was when we were ‘anti war’. Before we knew that the ‘Peace Movement’ was naive and funded as much by us as by them.
Putin as KGB talks of his good times infiltrating the hippies to encourage their anti war movement against their government - the fifth column war. Today it’s part of the hybrid war of the communist chinese. Trudeau is the traitor from this perspective. The Modern day Chamberlain.
We were so idealistic and only later I learned that the anti war movement was the enemy’s movement. Freedom needed to come first. Freedom of speech and anti scensorship first. Later I’d learn realism and study rhetoric and logic and science and psychopaths and sociopaths. I’d meet people who would just as soon kill you as play golf with you. I was safe and middle class back then. I later worked with soldiers and will ever recalls the sergeant who told me that ‘we’re like the sheep dogs, we protect the sheep from the wolves.’ We were sheep then. I faced the wolves and after loved the sheep dogs. So many silly academic I met were so deluded they didn’t know they were sheep. So many middle class were so fat and soft they voted Trudeau and Singh and entertained such silly ideas as defund the police. I remember the silliness of unilateral disarmament from those teen years when we were so young we’d not met Jeffry Daimlers in our midst. We externalizer our fears and hates. We’d not studied Jung. Just as individuals develop socially and emotionally as Erickson taught so do groups of people. Today more and more people are here who escaped their countries which are still in the pre Magna cart, pre French and American Revolution. They’re prone to dictatorship. They’re socially immature and yet look like others adults . But they ba like sheep. The Wallace’s of their countries were genetically removed and they never had a Bruce. They want license and believe in revolutions and don’t know that feeedom comes with accountability. Their world is paranoid and ‘us and them’. They don’t know that ‘Eichman is within.”
I am older now. I know God is All. Without the manure there’d be no roses. I’m a great admirer of parents who know the difficulty of raising children and teaching adolescents so have little faith in Trudeau maturing. He and his adolescent gang are flying boys and girls. Laura doesn’t get upset like I do. She tells me stories of her children knowing it all and I remember when I was that age and my father wasn’t nearly as wise in my eyes as he turned out to be.
The courts and parliament are a binary, like non binary and binary are a binary. It’s a cluster fuck and crap shoot and gamble. In medicine we see the whole. We know the complexity of how the head bone is connected to the toe bone. We study health and disease. It’s been an amazing life of study and learning. I am truly blessed. Not only have I learned of others but of myself. I still am learning and I’m trying more and more to be more kind. Love your enemy, Jesus taught. Do not be afraid. I look back and my greatest regret is that I didn’t show my mother more love. I was a good son by standards but so entitled and inconsiderate. She was always there and I was so intellectual so narcissistic, such a genus. I wished I’d just hugged her more. My father was the genius. He lead and managed a hundred and fifty men at one time. I wished I’d listened more. My brother did. He was the good boy and I felt the alien, so caught up in the things I saw in microscopes and telescopes that I didn’t see what was in front of my face. Face. Face . Face. Location. Location. Location.
Thank you Jesus
I love Harrison Hot Springs. Laura and I have been coming yearly often several times for a quarter century and before that I came and even brought my parents here for one of our best visits as adults. My friend told me of the mafia meeting here when he was a messenger for them. The Canadian Christian Medical and Dental Society had their meeting here where I so enjoyed the company of Willie and Anita Gutowski. It’s a holy healing place. Sacred. Here I am today blessed. Hallelujah.
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