Sunny Saturday with Laura, George, Gilbert and Churchill

I love the sun.  I love that I’m sitting outside at a picnic table.  I awoke from a dream where John and Susan from Fort Garry days were playing guitar in the living room. My brother was there and Gilbert and the family dog from childhood.  How much better can it get?
I have a new Sealy Posturpedic mattress.  Laura’s hot menopausal body was beside me.  I didn’t even need the electric heating blanket. Eric fixed the furnace after a few days of dysfunction. The snow is all but gone outside. I’ve lots of propane and had just changed the tank the night before.
Some asshole called at 7 am.  I wake normally at 7 am but it’s Saturday and I had hoped to sleep in till 8 am.  The caller didn’t respond.  “This is Dr. Hay. Yes?”  I didn’t wait. I hung up.  Years of the trauma of being on call. Wee hour calls to deliveries, trauma or people suicidal or even drunk and family members of the above.  Nurses, doctors and northern or folk at sea in desperation seeking help.  And this ass hole calls at 7 am. Might well be a family member or friend just not thinking. Like the telemarketers who more often call when I get home from a long day and want to eat.
With the phone ringing and master moving ,Gilbert began hrrumfffing, wanting up on the bed. My bladder which had not been awake suddenly demanded attention.  Laura had rolled over.  George the Cat was just beyond Gilbert. I think George had already run across my legs. I got up.
I love indoor plumbing but I really wouldn’t mind stepping outside and hosing down the street if it wasn’t a municipal offence. When I had my acreage in the country the dog and I would often happily wander outside to water the trees and look at the stars or watch the sun come up at dawn.  With men as persecuted as Christians in Canada it’s good to reflect on the benefits of external plumbing.   Now in the urban centre of offence and rules and regulations I am truly thankful for indoor plumbing.  Ah.....Relief.
I am back to meditating.  After I feed the cat and dog I sit cross legged focussing on my breath.  I used to do this for days.  Now I’m good for minutes. The dog and cat think my being down in their territory is invitation to play.  It’s never long before one or the other is curled up in my lap expecting a scratch.  Maybe this is what Nirvana or Samedhi is supposed to be.
I do sit ups.  I’m pear shaped. I’ve used the excuse of accidents to explain my sloth but the fact is I watch crime drama and war thrillers and binge eat.  Without late night tv I’d be evacuated.    But last nights Ghost in a Shell Japanese futuristic movie with Scarlett’ Johanneson just demanded chips and cheese and a peanut butter sandwich. When I’m on top of these things I have carrot sticks and butter less pop corn. Kind of like packaged blood products for a vampire desperate for the real thing.
Laura and I watched the Netflix “Churchill” not realizing it wasn’t the “Darkest Hour” Churchill movie
“Everyone said how great it was, but I didn’t think it was that good,” Laura said.
“It’s all PC nonsense with revisionist American Hollywood and feminist crap.  Churchill wasn’t a nincompoop before D Day.  His wife certainly wasn’t an airhead like Justin’s Sophie.   People yelled at each other back then.  It wasn’t called bullying. Mistakes got everyone killed. Just as much as ‘loose lips’.  I hate this retrospective falsification aimed at tearing down the greats of western civilization.  The same violent barbarians are tearing down the George Washington statues.  “ I eloquently bitched.
“They portrayed him as having PTSD because of the Gallipoli and WWI experience.”  She said.
“It was a wonderful soap opera, and really I loved the acting and the scenery and everything but it would be no different than showing Stalin murdering the millions he killed portraying that great warrior killer sociopath as a kindly old man who wasn’t breast fed enough. It’s great Hollywood tv drama but it’s not true. I’m surprised they didn’t have a Kardashian having an affair with him to the music of Justin Bieber. No wonder young people are ignorant and fatuous with the shit people put in their brains.”
“I just can’t understand why my friends who are really smart liked it.” Laura kept saying and I kept thinking her friends must be mentally retarded Communist whackjobs.  “They said the film showed him drinking all the time and he wasn’t drinking that much.”
Thank God for Internet. We sorted it all out. Before we had a major argument between us we learned that this  Churchill movie, really a parody with all it’s American Arrogance, ( to hear them speak of WWII they won it single handedly and didn’t need the Allies or Russia) was not ‘The Darkest Hour” movie
In Instabull they have magnificent large scale model of the British Turkish encounter and the errors made by Churchill.  It really is a incredible exhibit that shows how sly the Turks were and how duped the English were leading to one of the greatest defeats of all time.  The Ottoman Empire lasted 700 years and was not the ‘sick man’ that it was portrayed as by Europeans who underestimated them to their detriment.
I’d been in Moscow  where their War Museums have real life Tussaud type exhibits with maps and the numbers of Russians who died to throw back Germany. I’d seen just how much they sacrificed, how much Germany lost in men and equipment,  and what Stalin’s strategy  had done to defeat Germany. The Allies contribution was more a mopping up after the carnage the Russian wrecked on Hitler.
The Americans acted more like mercenaries holding out while the British and Europeans fought among themselves so they could get the best financial deals.  Hollywood portrayed the Americans as high minded but Roosevelt and his cabinet acted  like regular low life horse traders rather than caring about saving Jews or democracy.  The American for years were just bankers and extortionists and then when the Japanese attacked them and Germany declared war on them, they got into the Atlantic war. Very slippery characters. Not at all like the greatest people of the world, us Canadians, who won the war single handedly (just ask our Minister of Defence who also apparently won the Boer War, 30 year War and advised Napoleon).
No doubt the Americans more or less won the Pacific war with the help of Britain and the Aussies but their grandiose portrayal of themselves in all their Hollywood propaganda movies has been as far fetched as this comic book Churchill presentation.  Probably this is not a reflection on the American military but more a reflection on the draft dodging drug addicted sex addicted Hollywood producers of the Harvey Weinstein ilk.
Anyone who knows history knows Churchill’s wife wouldn’t be phoning the King and tattling on her husband or that Churchill’s wife would be considering leaving on the night of D Day. Gloria Steinem  and Jane Fonda would be doing that for sure.  But not the Clementines of the world.
Well it wasn’t Darkest Hour. “Thank God for that,” Laura said.  “Now I really want to see Darkest Hour.”
“Me too,” I said.
Now she wants to go renew her Smart Car insurance at the mall. I’m going to finish this up.
I’d actually started a report I planned to finish this weekend , long over due, but it turns out I don’t have the notes I need. Being in different clinics with records dispersed in the clinic computer systems doing medical legal reports is a major challenge. It was so much better for the report writing when I had all the information on my own computer.
The trouble with the keeping of my own notes is that the fat cat lawyers and their beurocratic Greek Chorus have made the statue of limitations for doctors eternal. The College of Physicians and Surgeons is calling back doctors from Heaven to accuse them of touching female patients 500 years ago and insisting that they publicly produce records saying where their hands were during deliveries because anesthetized patients remember themselves being touched by the Obstetrician during the delivery in the genital region and their unborn babies are complaining that a lawyer wasn’t present when the ultrasounds were done which ended up on Facebook without their written permission.
I wouldn’t have taken notes all these years if I knew I had to keep the records for life and multiple reincarnations after that. I’ve got a storage locker full of files and the cost of digitalizing them would be $10,000s and they say there will be help for this when I retire but I can never afford to retire because of the threat of new rules and new threats as beurocrats and lawyers create millions of new regulations by the second  just to keep themselves in business. Meanwhile Trudeau and the government have sold all Canadian grandchildren into slavery with a debt load rising daily by tens of millions just the same as his father did who put the country in debt till Alberta oil saved Quebec ass.
Oh well, it’s a sunny day. I can’t do the work.  God loves me. Instead I get to play. I wanted to get out in a boat but that will have to wait. Motorcycle comes home next week. I rode my electric bicycle strenghthening my injured knee along the horse trails yesterday It was great to see the horses exercising.
God I love this spring air. Sweet scents on the breeze. Gilbert napping beside me, his ball securely under his nose.
Thank you Jesus for this glorious spring day. It’s a great day to be alive.  Hallelujah. Halleljuh!!!!!

The Godless and Soteriology

I listened to Rev. Flowers Soteriology 101 pod cast yesterday.  My commute time in Vancouver was doubled by the fog. Everywhere medical marijuana drivers had slowed their vehicles down so they could collectively stare and say, “Wow, Man!” It really was surreal and beautiful.
Vancouver is a bipolar city with moods fluctuating with the weather and commutes fluctuating due to poor administration of the road services from anywhere between a 1/2 hour and 2 hours daily.  The real money in the city comes from crime and government.  The criminals and the elite live in the city. The commuters like me are just the modern peasants.
Soteriology is the study of “Salvation”.  An end days prescription.  Like George Carlin, “What is this hand basket and where are we going anyway.”  Every day a person not on drugs or willing to forego the Starbucks coffee waiting in the city, gets up and drives their car either north or east, heading to the country or the prairies just to get away from the boredom of Vancouver in the darkness of ‘daylight saving’ and the rain of winter.
Snow and sunshine seem preferable to whiplash seeking pirates looking for ICBC insurance windfalls offered daily by the legal lottery that runs the province.  Meanwhile ,why work when the government taxes the workers while giving a pass to the criminals and speculators.  It’s the same with guns. Criminals have them. But the government taxes those who own them and pay taxes on them.  So the government simply does the same with workers, demonizing them, and punishing them with greater and greater taxes while leaving the criminals to prosper.
Salvation sounds like a lovely contrast to the media circus and the daily toil of hedonist smog producing bike laned city life especially as the government is taxing the air we breathe and water is now bought and sold.  Death has an appeal.  Euthanasia is marketed medically along with marijuana.
It pays to check out the tourist brochures of the various religions ultimate destination offers.
I once wrote a paper on Heaven and concluded that Christianity and Taoism had the best resorts in the after life. I didn’t really care to fight each day in pagan Valhalla.  Hanging with virgins didn’t seem nearly so appealing since the virgins I knew weren’t a particularly a attractive lot.
As a doctor I also know that the hymen restorative surgical industry is a thriving business.  The introduction of the birth control pill removed the whole need for virginity that leftover from  the agricultural and herding days of breeding, eugenics and  and thoroughbred children.  Today 50 % of the children of divorce are by DNA study, not those of the father.  Despite this, the  Jews continue to step on glasses at wedding.  Muslims kill people who look at their promiscuous sisters.  Myla Cyress, the penultimate Hollywood disease attacting slut, rides her ‘wrecking ball’.  New religions like feminism are sources of perpetual anger and ‘offence’ , like nation states in the empires building colonial days. New colonialists.  Different names, same old, same old , game.
Soteriology says each religion and each culture had some purpose and meaning.  Today the Godless simply lie and deny that they really want the most toys at the end but their agenda always is world dominance for purely hedonistic reasons. They don’t have an afterlife so can’t really care for their own children.  All must cease to exist when they, Gods of their own making,  no longer exist. No wonder there is an opioid epidemic.
The Buddhists by contrast are the most truthful.  Soteriology or salvation for them is ‘nirvana’ , ‘liberation from suffering’.  Life is ‘samsara” or the never ending cycle of misery.  All Buddhist humor is a kind of Vietnam black humor which makes their laughter so infectious.  Even Kierkegaard the great Christian theologian said ‘life is suffering unto death’.  Quite a contrast to the promises of politicians, whores, bankers, marketting agencies, and Hollywood.  Nothingness is the reward of life.
The Christian ‘salvation’ is saving the soul from ‘sin’.  Sin is a word used to describe the ‘missing of a mark’.  Christianity like Zen uses an analogy of the archer. The archer shoots an arrow and if ‘Good intentions didn’t pave the road to hell’ the arrow would always hit the mark. Christianity like Science asks the question of ‘outcome measure’.  The ‘deviance’ from the aim is called ‘sin’. In science we’d explain the ‘error’ as ‘windage’ , ‘arrow’ material’ , ad infinitude.  Christians say that sin follows from separation from God. Salvation is made possible in Christianity by the life and death and sacrifice of Jesus Christ, (God entered his creation, lived it, found it in error ,  corrected it, died and resurrected..  The cross of Christianity is the ‘cross road”. It’s all about choice and freedom of choice. Also I imagine God was just a tad cross as his creation when it killed his creatures killed him suggesting either a design error, a Robert Graves sacrifice of the king or downright naughtiness of children unattended. Apparently the computer reset didn’t take a Noah flood but the cosmic fix could be put in with ‘love’.
There is also however a pesky issue of ‘predestination’ and ‘grace’ .Soteriology addresses these ultimately Unchristian factors in Christianity.
A good Christian gets ‘mansions in heaven’ and time with God.  Virgins are apparently optional and singing replaces war. It sounds much more appealing as you get older.  You also get a new body while the Muslims must make due with the resurrection of the one they died in. This explains the mass exodus of male followers of Islam to Christianity after they have suffered castration by whatever means.
Only 1 in 1000 Muslims actually get to any kind of heaven so it’s a lottery system anyway with most ending up in fire and despair just like some Christian sects who feel the stick is far better than the carrot for managing the followers. Corruptions naturally goes along with either lottery system.
The Judaism Soteriological construct is as a collective not like Christianity which is individual. Jews are never individual tourists but must travel by the bus loads. The attraction of aetheism for the likes of Marx and other Godless Jews is that many Jews simply don’t believe in an afterlife “The dead know nothing. They have no reward.”  However other Jews do believe in an afterlife, though not nearly as attractive in terms of housing as the Jewish Christian sects believed.
In Hinduism Samedhi or Moksha is the escape from ‘samsara’ the cycle of death and rebirth.  This may mean like the Buddhists a loss of individuality but it might also mean a simple closing of this book before the opening of the other. This goes with the idea of this ‘caterpillar’ existence where enlightenment is a ‘butterfly’ existence. How can a caterpillar know as a butterfly. “I am the bubble make me the sea’.  There’s closure and possibility without the idea of a human ‘body’ or the anthropomorphism associated with the mystery religions.  The Sikh seed the ‘union with God’ as a drop of water joining the sea.
There’s a sense with the Godly that we’re all going in the same direction in a sense. Pesky pagans preparing to fight forever are as challenging to be around as those who truly believe that this is it and there are no consequences, except perhaps indigestion, for eating one’s neighbour.
Rev. Francis was challenging the Calvinist notion of preditermination, the idea that God’s chosen are already picked and the out come is ‘fixed’.  This has an anthropormorphic quality considering however we find that elections, soccer games and leadership positions are ‘rigged’.  Why not think that God has ‘rigged’ this life. The least taught book of the Bible, Job, certainly challenges the notion of Satan and dualism. Satan might well have been God’s companion creation or alter ego before the creation of more entertaining humans with delusions of free will.
Personally I’ve considered myself a ‘voice over’ on a ‘comic strip’ .  The question then is who is the writer. I’m writing my life or God or worse ‘the Borg Government of Canada’. And if the ending is ‘fixed’, as my dope smoking friend believes, “why worry, be happy.”
There’s a notion of ‘happy cabbages’ and I find when I ask people ‘why’ or ‘where are you going’ or ‘what do you want in the big picture’ they commonly simply shit themselves.  I know that beurocrats are the most disturbed by that question. They hide behind platitudes and swagger with confidence but the seed of doubt and the depth of fear is so readily apparent in their eyes.
Most who join armies have said simply, I don’t know I don’t care I just want to be a tool.  I’m here to pay for my family because that hedonistically feels good. Others believe the signs offering travel and education.
I am no more than an animal, they say. I mimic the words and motions of man but really no more. Everyone agrees with me. I represent everyone. I’m schizophrenic and leave me alone. Don’t ask me such questions!!!!
Soteriology. Thank you Rev. Flowers.

Facing Friday Morning.

The snow is almost gone. It’s been raining steadily. Today though it’s just grey. Gilbert crawled into bed with me and lay down beside me , licking my cheek. Now he stands at the end of the couch looking out onto the street.  I am so thankful for his presence and friendship.
I so busy and overwhelmed with the office closure business. I can’t express my anger at the Landlady for renting me a suite without proper zoning. I’m equally incensed by the City for refusing to consider a psychiatrist office like a psychologist office but holding it strictly too the medical office definition. The zoning is there only related to the numbers and were it a medical office of general practice it would mean fifty people a day 5 days a week but I’ve only worked there half time seeing at most 30 patients a week.  But beurocrats have the dubious distinction of dealing with their rules and regulations never having to face reality or humanity.
It is no surprise to me that Confuscianism was countered by Daoism and Buddhism.  The Confuscists know nothing of the ‘Way’.  The bureaucrats have lost their way.
I have struggled to hold true and with the kindness of friends have found places where I can continue to see patients in clinics of friends.  Now I’m dispersed to three clinics.  I’m letting go of my staff and moving out records and furniture.  In a week I’ll see my last patient in the old place.
I’ve had these living room spaces of healing I’ve created for over thirty years.  I started though in a medical examining room. As a country gp I did my first psychotherapy and hypnosis in a room where I also lanced absesses and did examinations.  It’s like that again.  A sterile environment, functional.
Today’s beurocratcy doesn’t like couches.  It’s gone Sharia. Every man is a rapist. Every doctor is a sex offender. We’re all guilty and the ugliness is everywhere.  I have focussed solely on healing. I’ve struggled with the wonder of creation and the struggle of life.  I’ve insisted that I’m a healer and not a policeman while watching my colleagues in high places run in terror from the front lines of disease and suffering where the uncertainty abounds ,to the safety and security of the humourless committee rooms filled with cowardice and pomposity.
I am comforted though by the humans in my new surroundings. Other labourers in the healing process. We’ve not sold our souls to the policing controlling superior safety of the beaurocratic insanity.  There are more and more regulations with less and less evidence of value and less and less time in healing with more and more time in writing.  I hardly have time to look in the face of the sufferer and yet those who make the rules have long ago rejected contact with the hoi polloi.  The machines are more interesting. They love the numbers.  The human touch of hand on wrist is disgusting to them.  They develop ways and means of gathering data electronically.
We are fast becoming lifeless.
There is a death smell in the system where fewer and fewer heal and more and more give orders.  We carry a burden of disease in beaurocracy.  The cancer of the incompetence of administration is profound.  It is said that peace time is forever condemned to the corruption and expansion of the useless bureaucracy until war forces efficiency and relevance on the force with overnight paring and reduction.
I’m struggling with my resentment to the powerlessness I feel facing untreatable diseases, dying patients, dying family.  I’m alone at times in a foxhole and the messages that come in from headquathers where the perverted fatuous party goes on day and night with endless resources and countless bodies is at stark contrast to how little we have on the front.  I don’t know if it’s them I am angry with or God.
In my own dark night of the soul all I can ask over and over again is God help me to forgive the bureaucrats, their grotesque sins of omission, their Nuremberg mentalities and self righteous posturing and utter utter stupidity.  Please God forgive me and help me see them as the angels they are.  Help me again to face the disease with my patients and give me strength to stand by and touch them even as the Judges and all the august tell us to not touch, not look at, not be seen by the sick.  The sick are all lepers to this administration. Their contribution is solely abortion and suicide. They don’t like life other than their own.
But I’m raving.  I’m catastrophising. It’s just the grief speaking. It’s just another death by fentanyl that’s hurting me today.  I’ll go and talk to another person who has lost a friend and miss the person who isn’t coming today that I saw last week but isn’t coming today. So many don’t return these days and I hear they are at the morgue.