Colonial

« You’re just a colonial, bloke. Without us, you’d be nobody. » said an English fellow. I was a Canadian living and working in England in the 70’s and was often mocked and bullied in this way. The English society was rigidly hieararchal.  My buddies, some working class blokes I’d met at the local pub were friendly and would always say ‘don’t mind him’ when someone would spout off .

This group I hung with were what might be termed ‘lower middle class’.  They commonly had some college education and office assistant level job.  They weren’t ‘posh’nor were they ‘common’.The rigid class system distinguished upper, middle and lower class. There didn’t seem to be much movement as position depended so much on your parents, their past, where you lived and the dialect of English you spoke. As a ‘colonial’ I was an ‘outsider’ , welcomed by some , disparaged by others. I was novel and appealing to a certain extent but if I crossed some secret law of class behaviour I was « corrected’.  « Bloody colonial. » 

I’d read some 80% or thereabouts of land in England was still owned  or controlled by some relative or ancestor of the Norman Conquerors of a thousand AD. 

Years later I was working as a doctor in a small town and this local woman approached me inviting me to a ‘party’ at her estate.  She said that ‘we’ve had a discussion about you and observed you this last year you’ve been here. We think you’d be a good addition to our social group. We’re all the right people and tend to make all the important decisions in the community together. You’d do well to join us, » she was rather pleased with herself.

I thanked her but stayed apart remembering how I’d  been rushed for several fraternities and remained aloof then too.. For a social person I’m really quite the loner. Today I most enjoy hanging out with my dog , going for walks and getting together with the girlfriend on weekends.  I have a few close friends and many acquaintances I hold fondly. I’m anxious to get close to people at my age. So many of my closest friends have died and divorces and betrayal has taken it’s toll on my trust and socialization. I feel rather raw perhaps as a nature of my work, sensitive to the ‘loudness’ of peoples emotions.  

I encounter people today who disparage me as a ‘radical’ politically but I’d characterize myself as middle of the road,  libertarian really. It’s ironic how those in their left or right bubbles believe they are in the middle.  It’s difficult being in a world where people argue constantly about two humped versus one humped camel. Frankly I don’t care much about camels.  

People often identify with the larger group to give their own meaningless insignificance value.  The family is brought into the tribe and the tribe the nation.  Now there’s the Globalist One World Order. They want everyone to identify with their latest totalitarianism.  I cringe.  So often I want to be left alone.  Often I feel even a bit paranoid as if  I’m targeted already by the Borg Like government burearocrat. If I don’t ‘conform’ I’m one of the  ‘enemy’.  

I  read Voltaire , « Patirotism is the last refuge to which a scoundrel clings’.  Identification with the group and knowing right thing to say is fear and anxiety reducing.. 

There’s comfort and solace in being ‘in’ .  I so enjoyed reading Arendt on the ‘Banality of Evil’ after she’d seen the Nuremberg trials where everyone denied accounatability.  Robert Graves in the Golden Bough said that the choice of a king or chief was that he could be sacrificed while the group survived.  It’s like blaming the mind today as ‘he was of two minds’ and couldn’t focus whereas in the not so distant past it would be said ‘his heart wasn’t in it’.  I’m always reminded of my colleague who specialized in anal surgery. Asked why this rather than heart or brain or kidney, he replied, ‘I’ve done them all but when I could relieved a person’s constipation they were the happiest and most grateful. I get cards at Christmas from patients I saw 30 years ago ».  Not surprising we call people assholes when we’re not fond of them .

I must remember I’m loved by God and that first and foremost I must love what I am and have for so many people driving Honda’s wish they had Lamborghinie’s,  So many people poor wish to be rich.  There is never enough in this world.   reigns.The wise also warn that we should beware of what we wish for.

The Buddhist master describes the west as  suffering ‘spiritual consumerism’. It’s no surprise that addiction rules not just the gutter world but Wall Street and politics.

I’m reading David Baldacci’s the Calamity of Souls. It’s a story of a trial of a black man accused of killing white people in the south.  It’s set in the time of Rosa Parks.  

In the 70’s I eventually moved home to Canada.  I haven’t been called a ‘colonial’ in decades.  The feelings of shame have come and gone for other reasons.  Life is changing.  I still feel an outsider a lot. 

Shakespeare’s King Lear said, « So we’ll live, And pray, and sing, and tell old tales and laugh at gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues talk of court news , and we’ll talk with them too - Who loses and who wins who’s in who’s out - and take upon ‘s the mystery of things as if we were god’s spies,’  

Enlightenment

In a cave in the far east there lived an old man, well over a hundred, but no one knew by quite how much.  He was a legend, known far and wide for his wisdom, deeds of kindness, and some would say miracles.  An American news agency had heard of this man and sent a female journalist from Boston  to interview him. She was to gain insight into what was so special about  him that he’d gained thousands of followers and was visited by eastern dignitaries.  Indeed a shrine had been built in his honor an immense service, an outpouring of wealth and love from his followers.   Still he preferred to live in the cave high on this mountain in Nepal with just a few of his disciples.  It was here that the female journalist found him after a rather arduous trek with her LA photographer/videographer.  She was blond and wore a khaki skirt and jacket and sensible shoes. . Her white blouse was streaked with sweat. So she took a few minutes to tidy her appearance before she was to be introduced to the venerable sage who some would call a saint. .  Long ago he’d been called a zen master.  Now he was just referred to as ‘the one’.

The photographer/videographer was tired.  He’d humped his camera gear up the mountain. The day was passing and the light wasn’t very good. He hoped his partner would get on with it.  He was always in a bit of hurry.  To get the story. To get the film. To get the copy out to the publisher. Seeing the zen master, he thought he must be the oldest man he’d ever known. The man was so thin and his skin was like parchment.  He was standing near talking to his disciples in  loose fitting pyjamas.  The photographer had taken the tripod out of his pack and attached it to his camera.  The disciples were motioning to them to come forward.

When he came closer something about the old man’s  face caught the photographer’s well trained eye. . A kind of inner illumination. He saw it but did’t know if his camera would capture it.  He hoped so.  The old man bowed to them.  His hands were together before his chest.

« Namaste », he said. His voice a rich baritone.

His translater said to the journalist.  « My holy master is greeting you.  Namaste means ‘bow me you’ .  Some say it also means ‘the divine within me salutes the divine within you.’  The master was standing very still. He was sinewy rather than frail.  He waited patiently as his translater spoke to the beautiful young woman who having heard the translation put her hands together and bowed back to him. « Namaste’ she said.  He smiled..Her voice was like bird song. 

There were couches set in a semi circle and the master took a seat on one, She sat across from him. the translater to her left and the camera man with his tripod up, now positioned to the right with his back to the light of the cave opening.

The journalist brushing an errant strand of golden hair from her forehead looked  down at the notebook she’d place on her lap. It held all the questions that she’d discussed with her producers back in Boston.  She looked up and asked , « Great master, can you tell me what is enlightenment? »

The master looked to his right at his translator who leaned forward and conveyed her question in their dying language.  He nodded.

Smiling ,he turned back to the journalist and translated the words of his master.

The journalist looked to the translator.  The videographer’s camera was filming.  It’s a film that remains today a century later long after the old man had died along with the young who were there that day.

He says, « I shit when I am shitting: the translater conveyed

There was some more questions and answers after that but the interview didn’t last much longer. The sage grew tired easily at his age. His disciples were very protective of him. Perhaps  he felt too he had said what needed to be said,    Soon the young couple were leaving being shown back down the mountain by the monks.  The sun was setting in the western sky. The master would be give no more interviews.  This was certainly the last time he spoke to a westerner especially a weestern woman. It was the only time he’d been filmed too.

« I shit when I am shitting ».  

The journalist repeated this several times on their journey back to the city..

She remembered reading the words of Brother Lawrence a western monk who’d encouraged the ‘ practice of the presence of God:. She spoke with her photographer, He shared he’d  remembered  hearing  a  Canadian soldier in a lull in the war he was shooting, say, « you’ve got to get your head in the same room  your ass is. » 

« I shit when I’m shitting » the old man had said. 

The network published the story.  It aired as a piece at the end of one days news.  The journalist had considered every synonym she could think of but in the end said exactly what the translater had told her. It did get a laugh.  People laughed when she told them They laughed when the show was aired.  Though the acoustics and light in the cave were not that good  they all got to see the old man and hear the translators words. The episode was called ‘Enlightennent’. The producrs picked the title.   Sitar, violin and flute  played in the back ground.  The audience laughed a bit awkwardly at first but then a bit more loudly as they because aware others were laughing too.  

The film was shown again and again occasionally. The tape was eventually changed to digital and stored in the library archives.  Serious students continued to come acrosss it in their studies. Professors referenced it in future courses.  Despite the lighting the camera man had caught the subtle illumination that reminded some of the halos seen in medieval paintings in the Louvre.  It was less of a circle above the head but more of a sheen radiating from within.. One could even imagine his eyes twinkling as he said « I shit when I’m shitting’ , that refrain that would be recorded and shared down the ages for anyone seeking enlightenment to hear.

 

Control

The oldest law in the world is the ‘chinese law of the fish, there are big fish and little fish. The little fish must be fast and numerous.

The psychiatrist is first and foremost and agent of control. Insaniety has been described as being ‘out of control’. There is some kind of ‘normal’ to which psychiatrists adhere. That ‘normal’ is defined first and foremost by whoever or whatever wields ultimate control.  

It is said ‘history is written by the winners’.  So psychiatry and mental wellness are defined, not solely, but most significantly by those who dominate and win.  

Presently society is ruled by the UN Security Couuncil. These represent the ‘winners’ of World War II, Russia, China, USA, Britain and France.  If an individual were radically opposed to these central regimes they would be deemed ‘out of touch with reality’.  Reality in a political and material sense is defined by these ‘winners’

Deviation from the ‘norml’ is considered ‘bad’ or ‘mad’.  Bad is addressed predominantly by the Judge and jail system historically seems as ‘masculine’ and superior.  Mad was addressed predominantly by the psychiatrist and asylum system which is consider feminine and inferior.  However, if a person is considered insane they can be kept indefinitely by the Governor General’s Warrant.

In the court madness is dealt with by being declared ‘guilty’ but insane or ‘not guilty by reason of insaniety.

Saniety is being ‘in control’. 

Sunday in August

I woke at 5 am to the rain. The weather report had storms forewarned but instead it was just showers.  I went back to bed and woke again in time for coffee and preparing for church

Madigan loved seeing Fritz, the priest’s dog. It was nice to see everyone. I’d been away awhile telling everyone I’m a winter Christian and summer pagan.  Camping takes precedent in summer. It was good to connect.  Madigan was relatively okay only needing to be taken out once when he began to growl , tail wagging, in prayers. He just wants attention.  I enjoyed the sermon,  Rev Emily discussed the ‘cannibalism’ aspects of St. John and showed the metaphoric neature of his speech by quoting the beginning of this mystical treatise, The Word became Flesh.  The word is variously understood as spirit, god, and ingesting the ‘information’ might be the explanation in the DNA of today’s understanding .  I liked the way she put it, not turning to the modern but just saying that it would have been understood in the day as such.  I found myself thinking a materialist aetheist would think Jesus meant eat him literally.  The killing of babies and eating of warriors hearts certainly was popular with the pagans.  It’s called the Godpel and it’s the Good news.  Jesus went vonluntartily to fulfill the Lord’s will.  

After I came home. Dave dropped by. I told him I’d had trouble with the tripod and he kindly put it together for me.  

I’ve booked Laura and I in for Bow Hunting in Princeton next long weekend.  

Yesterday was a great day with a walk to Burnaby Lake. On the way I took an excellent video of a Blue Heron lifting off and flying away.  It was an hour and a half walk. I’ve down loaded a walking app with the plan to lose weight in the next few months while getting in shape for hunting 

After that I rode the Harley with Madigan on the back to Davie Street. Laura joined us at the Italian restaurant. It was a great visit. Madigan was ecstatic seeing his mommy and sad when we had to part

Last night I watched Union with Mark Walberg and Halle Berry.  Loved the action.  I’ve been watching old NCIS and finding them comforting too. There’s law and order. The world gone ‘woke’ with PLO Hamas terrorist support disrupting the pride parade even, a million immigrants and massive mismanagement of the economy and rising costs. I’m managing and am hopeful but it’s work to stay positive.  

There’s drama in the clinic and drama in the university and I wonder what God wants of me. I just get up each day and pray and am grateful. I’m realizing I’m old and still wondering what to do when I grow up.

Thankful Laura is supportive and kind.

Madigan is such a source of entertainment, nuisance and distraction.  I really am blessed though today feel low with the rain again and the challenge of continuing to work.  

Burnaby Lake Heron and Davie Street with Laura

A Friday

I don’t work on Friday but wake up same time as other weekdays.  I pray and meditate then have coffee. I peruse mail and face book. I like the lack of pressure.  Today was an open slate.  After I had yogurt I walked the dog one and half times around the park. He has his favourite places, sniffing and leaving pee messages.  I’m listening to an audiobook, the story of language, about linguistics.  When I came back I spent the next 2 hours trying to get copies of my RRSP contributions to give to Doctors of BC.  I worried at first I didn’t contribute enough but now it appears I just need to find the paper work.

I completed forms and spoke to patients for the next couple of hours. Then I headed out with Madigan to pick up mail. I had portable winch which is bigger and heavier than I thought but still have a battery park which makes it very portable.  I had wanted it to assist loading my motorcycle but it would also work well pulling in a deer if I’m fortunate enough to shoot one this season  

I booked our long weekend campsite.  Laura is happy. I’m glad I made the committment.

I also received this portable desk I ordered. It’s a little wide but works just fine for typing. I’m pleased. I often like to sit here and its no good for typing, Besides it will work for zoom meeting.

I was glad to send the little mammoths from the BC museum to the great nephews.  Just little tasks but each feels good completed. 

I ordered a burger and a burger paddy in the Macdonald’s drive through.  We ate them in the park before driving onto the off leash dog park.  Madigan ran all over marking the whole of the park.  He was alone but he seemed to take delight in communication.  A day in the life.  He’s so enthusiastic and such a delight to be with.  

 

I manufacture worry

Recently I’ve been manufacturing a whole news set of worry.  It’s like being at the perfect day campsite when the dusk brings out the swarms of mosquitoes.

I’m older.  So now I’m worried I won’t have time to

- get a Nobel Peace Prize - I never wanted one. I’ve not worked to get one. I’ve just thought though that if I did want one I’d probably not have time to get one. I don’t want to change my life either..  I’ve become accepting of my past. I’ve made amends where I can. I’ve worked to forgive some. I’ve forgotten others. But just generally I’m incredibly grateful for the life I’ve had and proud of my many accomplishments. I’ve had lots of awards and achievements.  It’s like I’ve done well.  Maybe not one of life’s A students but a B plus, sometimes A and sometimes C but I’m alive and it has been an adventure

- time to travel to all the places I’d like to go. I’ve had a life of travel and work. I’ve bicycled across Europe, lived in London for a year, Mexico another year, been a flyin doctor in northern Canada and the Polynesian Islands. I lived in Saipan a couple of years, I’ve lived in Toronto, Winnipeg and Vancouver .  I’ve mortocycled across the northern states to Vancouver to the Black hills and back for the Surgis rally. I sailed my 13 ton sailboat to Alaska and Mexico and then solo through winter hurricane to Kona and back from Honolulu in exquisite weather. I ‘ve hiked mountains, the Rockies, and hiked the Sierra Leone Trails of Northern California, and the West Coast trail on Vancouver Island. I’ve done 50 mile walks but not a marathon I’ve white water canoed and skidooed across tundra, snow shored and stayed in igloos. I’ve scuba dived. I’ve been a successful bird and big game hunter as well as fisherman. .  I’ve flown to Japan, Moscow, Ethiopia, Costa Rica and lots of other places. 

- time to explore museums and art galleries. I want to visit more art galleries and see more impressionist paintings. I want to visit old cities and revel in the architecture and see more cave paintings and prehistoric monuments like Stonehenge.  

- time to write books. I’ve three in progress but don’t work on them steady so easily distracted by work 

- time to walk the dog more in nature

- time to read old books I loved and see old movies I’ve loved. I once thought I’d have time to do this, having enjoyed these studies go back and read Doystoyevski and listen to Joni Mitchell.  

- time to meditate and pray. I imagined I’d do retreats and maybe be a monk, contemplative.  I’d find peace of mind sitting by a river like Buddha or experience ecstasy in contemplation like St. Theresa of Liseux, Avala or St. John of the Cross

- time to see the birds in Brazil or the animals of South Africa. 

I have been so blessed but I’ve not been asked by the Prime Minister or President what I think is best even in my areas of greatest knowledge areas I have felt I knew better than the politically connected. I’ve not been politically connected. I’m too much a libertarian , a Christian libertarian at that.

— time to be a multi billionaire.

I’ve not wanted more money most days. I’ve been granted enough except in those times of divorce when I’ve left a course taken as it didn’t feel like it was safe even or likely to be the road less travelled. I’ve avoided conflict where I can and moved along. I’ve fought for family and patients and even friends but for myself I’ve not felt the same need to engage in war or ego based rivalry for money or status. I’ve been offered positions of security with indexed pension, high paid, steady status and even positions guaranteed to make a million or more but my clinical curiosity lay elsewhere and I’ve been able to work in a humbler more focussed way. I’ve done good. I’ve worked in areas of greatest need.   I’ve delivered babies, done surgery, cured a lot of infections, diagnosied and treated a lot of conundrums and mostly been a little Dutch boy with his thumb in a hole in the dyke. I’ve treated the wounded on the field after the war has gone through. I’ve been unremarkable.  I’ve worked one on one like a singer who teaches individual students rather than takes the stage and sings to the largest audience. I’ve talked to God every day and know that I have an audience like my mother who cares and often encouraged me to be where there is no fame or fortune though I’ve wanted fame and fortune too.  But I ‘ve got it and I don’t think it’s fair to complain. I’ve had the opportunity to hunt and fish and dance and sing.  I’ve been truly blessed. I’ve been sober 27 years but before that I was young and wild. Today I’ve grown older a rare privilege with so many I know having already passed, 

Seriously I don’t know if I have time to give thanks enough.  I don’t know if I have time to be more surprised by joy. I don’t know if I have time for more love having known love all my life.  I don’t know if I have time to figure it out. Whatever it is.  I am grateful.  I have faith.

Time to walk the dog.  Thank you for this time to walk the dog. I don’t worry walking the dog.  It’s good. I’m doing good.  We’re walking our bodies and that itself is good. I can get too much in my mind and forget there’s more to life in nature. I ‘ve too often been inside when life is outside.  I don’t know and even worry I won’t have time to find the ‘balance’ to get back ‘into the flow’. To witness the synchronicity over and over. I like playing hide and seek with Jesus. He’s always there but I’m terribly forgetful and so easily distracted . Thank you Jesus for love and all. Peek a boo.

Pain,addiction, and psychiatry

The first lesson of clinical medicine is to observe.  Listen.  Smell. Only then does one even consider touching or palpitation.

Pain is classified first and foremeonst into acute and chronic.  Then one considers if this is original or recurrent.  All this critical information is gained by asking the right questions and observing.  When did the pain begin.  What is the quality of the pain.  What it it’s nature.  Is it sharp or dull.  Crescendoing or steady.  What makes it worse? What makes it better?  Where is it on the body.  Show me.  Tell me.  Where does it begin. Does it radiate or move from that place. Has it changed?

With acute paint the response might be exactly the opposite to chronic or recurrent pain.  Acute back pain requires rest whereas chronic back pain requires excercise or at least stretching.  

Palpation begains as very gently hardly touching the area any more than as a feather might then moving deeper.  The examination elicits pain and is meant to especially to discover ‘rebound abdominal pain’ a diagnostic symptom elicited by deep pressure.  

The patient today seems to have watched too television or simple misinformation and nonsnese. They want instant relief but don’t even know that a good clinician can’t treat pain unless they have a diagnosis.  With appendicitis the pain migrates around the abdominun and the ‘movement and direction’ of the pain make the diagnosis.

Patients commonly think that there’s a ‘magic’ pain killer like a magic bullet, Even opiates which are the ultimate pain medication don’t work well in all cases.  NSAIDS and ASA are better for certain musculosketal conditions than opiates.  Placebo or mind over matter bedside intervention can reduce pain by up to 80%..  Bleech in the last ccntury showed that anxiety alone could account for 30% of acute pain,

When the pain is maximum the mind shuts off.  The body shuts off.  Torture is limited by this.  The Torturer has to keep waking the patient.  

The sense of aloneness that comes with pain is also coupled with a feeling of uniqueness.  Some people even think they are more sensitive that others and are making a case against themselves in the midst of pain.   All the platitudes, hope, faith make pain less. They work.  Too often warmth and fluid are needed more than pain medication,  For some pain warmth and fluid make pain worse.

The problem with ‘pain’ medication is that it interacts with other medications.  So knowing what a person has taken in that last 24 hours is critical.  Substances that are abused like alcohol or marijuana are ‘medications’ to the body and influence reactions of the medications given for pain.

Do no harm is critical in medicine.  

Be calm.  Use one’s mind to calm thee panic.  FMRI’s studies show that people indeed can consciously ‘calm’, still the breathing, stop moving.  Be patient.  It’s all counterintuitive when the body is shouting ‘flee’, “fight’, and thanks to Dr. Google and years of misinformation from Dr. Zuckerberg and social media, the immediate care givers are actually knowledgeable and trying to help you despite fearing the medical team is Dr. Joseph Mengele.

Chronic pain is commonly note to have more volume and excitement.  Acute pain is the most painful.  Chronic pain is often noted by ‘anger’ in the tone of despair.  In Acute Pain there is desperation more than accusation.  Recurrent pain is a different kettle of fish and is a specific kind of chronic pain.  Given that there is recurrence the examiner is vurious as to what is causing this pain which should have been treated the first time. Why has the pain returned. What is the nature of the condition that it is continuing.  Diagnosis becomes very important as important if not more important than with acute pain,.

There is also acute on chronic pain,.  This ‘new’ pain might signal some development which could be most significant.

Pain is a symptom as in acute pain but it can be a diagnosis and a disorder as in ‘phantom limb pain’.  Pain disorders are forms of ‘chronic pain’ and can reflect brain changes over time.

Patients with addiction histories, such as alcoholics or those who have used opiates or cocaine or marijuana, are very different in their presentation because their pain centres may be under responsive or over responsive.  Anaesthetism might need to give them 5 x the normal anesthesia pre surgery because of tolearnacce or they may be very sensitive and go into respiratory arrest with the normal dosage. They are especially difficult to treat as chronic pain patients because ‘acute’ on ‘chronic pain’ is often a problem with these patients.

Chronic pain is commonly associated with depression and anxiety and treating the depression or anxiety is often more effective than using ‘pain killers’.  

The pain ‘team’ has for decades included an internists, anesthetist and psychiatrist which indicates the importance of the mind in regards to the body.  

Long Weekend BC DAy

Loved the Tim Minshin show at Q E Theatre. Tim Minshin’s Angry (feet) has been my favourite bit of psychiatry humor for a decade or two. I also loved Storm.  He opened with “if this plane should crash” and did a number of new songs since the Matilda and Ground Hog Days era.  I read about him winning the Edinburgh Comedy fest but couldn’t remember how exactly I came to know him AIM and Mark were big comedian fans and I wondered if they might have introduced me to him.  They’re in Sidney now.  2 children.  

Tim Minshin married to Sarah has 2 children and was born in England to his Australian parents so has this British Aussie following. I loved him sharing about his mother’s death and his father’s grief.  He said that marriage is like picking a best friend to decay with.  Laura and I laughed at that. 

He’s always been intellectual in his humor, aetheist but his critiques are valid. I don’t share his views and am enjoying Neuroscient Mario de Beauregaarsd’s audio book of Spiritual Brain which I’d read in hard cover a deacade ago, He really did a funny number on the routine criticism of intenet that ‘he’s old white and conservatie’.  I found it especially amusing because I’d just been criticized by an ‘old white guy ‘ by a racist name calling leftist, who despite acting childish and immature, doesn’t realize that he’s over 30 ow so himself  considered ‘ old  and white too.”

We drove home in the Mini from downtown. Laura’s here for the weekend.  I’ve just been barbecuing as usual. We’ve walked Madigan several times a day independently and together. I had my hair coloured and cut at Chatterer’s by Shirin who’s had her hair cut and curled so she looks like a. 30’s can can girl. She’s really cute.  She’d just been on vacation to Cancun and also visiting her mom out east.  I had my nail’s repaired at Professional, the black polish restored.  Oddly self care is ‘tiring’.  

The next day was book reading. I’ve finished a Corsair and pirate novel of Malta and Algiers featuring the Knights of the Order of St. John.  Now I’ve down loaded a SF book but have been reading whole lot of history.  I read several books on prehistory and geography and archeology, sexuality and transexuality. . Now I’m in the midst of the history of prostitution and fascinated by its ubiquity.  A Norway historian wrote it when his partner a doctor was developing a public health plan to prevent AIDS

My camper came back from Kelvin at Travco. It’s all new again.  Costly damage from my backing up with the trailer.  Turns out I needed to have an extension on the hitch so it was happening simply because of the hitch not being long enough.  I was so pleased to see my littler winter home again.  I towed it out to Chilliwack for storage and drove back.  Laura and I are off to Pemberton for the opening of bow hunting in the August long weekend.

It’s Pride weekend. I’d hoped to go to the parade and even considered buying a new frock to wear but when Laura’s here I lose interest in cross dressing and getting out. It’s just pleasant to hang out. The thought of driving down town to walk among crowds just lost its appeal. Alone with Madigan we might have donned a frock for the occasion but with Laura’s company here , Madigan, the sunshine and heat, it was better to enjoy the couch air conditioning barbecue and Prime movies.  We loved the Irish movie with Liam Neilsen.  .  Madigan has so enjoyed participating in the steak meals getting shares from two plates rather than just one. 

We also learned that the left wing Hammas PLO favourites were terroriszing the Pride Parades.  We had the Marxist corporation BLM terrorizing previous Pride parades.  Hammas is causing riots all over England and still refusing to return the Israeli hostages they stole.  The Hammas Palestinians, Trudeau’s friends,  continue to want Israelis out completely and death to Jews with their people only hearing the propaganda while the Israelis continue to be reasonable and want co existence.  Hammas wants power and money and arms.  I loved reading revolutions just mean the overthrow of one beaurocratcy to be replaced by another worse one. I certainly don’t want the Ayatollah and can’t see why the LGBT community are so anti democracy and pro Muslim. It’s all about politics making strange bed fellows. Trudeau is the friend of terrorism and anti law and order except for his elite buddies. 

The middle class is being destroyed here and the working folk like me are being attacked financially annd physically in riots.. Frankly I’m avoiding crowds and liberals because they’re so entitled and violent.  They are against self defence and so favour criminals. The left wing news media calls the Muslim mobs ranging the streets with machetes the ‘victims’.  Trudeau is the prime enabler of violence and the liberals encourage disorder so like the communists always do they can centralize authority and impose draconian measures because they let the terrorist run amok. Such a contrast to the Peaceful Freedom rally where Trudeau declared martial la. 

  I’m just glad now I didn’t go to Pride. I don’t see Pride as a parade I’d like to attend with he anti police stance, pro BLM and now pro Hamma. Trudeau was there for the selfies and it nauseates me seeing him wasting my tax dollars and showing such disrespect to middle class and aging, . But then I’ve not attended the Irish Parade either in recent years. Nor the Chines Parad. I didn’t go to the fireworks. I don’t like crowds and the lack of law and order in Trudeau canada.  I feel safe at home and am glad to be able to be here today.  

I enjoyed my Oxford course but am still waiting for results , a problem that occurred with the initial assignments.  Im considering another on line course but then I think I should be focussed on completing the three books I’ve half way completed.  I continue to work and sometimes think the books will be done when I finally retire.  I like that I paid taxes and rent and dropped off and picked up a large load of laundry that had been accumulating. I’ve not been doing laundry here despite having a washer and it’s summer so drying wouldn’t be an issue. I’ve just been plodding on and pleased with what I’ve accomplished. This weekend is a contrast because we’ve really been doing little.  Reading books, walking the dog, and hanging out. It’s so rare in my busy schedule.

On facebook I was interested in the XY female so reviewed the genetics and comments on the misinformation on FB.  I mentioned Dreger's Hermaphroitism and the Medical Invention of Sex. I was interested that ‘woke’ would make statements she was a ‘biological woman’ when she couldn’t reproduce, had XY and must be taking hormones.  The French IOC insisted on the Passport ‘rule’ yet Canada and the US allow the changing of gender on the passsport without even a physician’s involvement. The Woke want ‘facts’ to be decided by politics. Like the USSR.  God is the Dictatorship.My truth and your truth rather than one truth with multiple perception.  Meanwhile Grymes the swimmer who contested Phelps the transexual was just awarded $50 million.  The Algerian boxer who has DSD = disorder of sexual development, and was disqualified by the International Boxiang ASsociation apparently is XY but also apparently had high testosterone which shouldn’t occur as XY - Swyer’s syndrome can’t produce hormones.  The plot thickens.  I’m cetainly pro trans but don’t see Male as Female.  It continues to be that Michelle Obama is thought to be Michael and now Macron’s wife is admittedly trans.  I think there’s a third category but that’s my love of Trinity over binary reductionism.  M F and Other.  

Biden stepped down without falling andd Kamala is being promoted by the Left as the Democrat Presidential Candidate to face Trump who has been falsely accused along with the  lies upon lies by the democrats.  I don’t know . The cost of living is exponentially high. I’m older now.  I love Laura and Madigan’s companionship.  

Time for another coffee.  These are the best days of my life.  God is good all the time. Good to be sober too. Thanks Jesus.  The aethest see the dance but can’t hear the music.. I’m so thankful for the dance and music.