The odd desperate smile

the odd desperate smileJust came back from a nice walk around the river. I have to say that this weather suits me. I’m afraid I like the rain and if it’s not too cold all the better. There were a number of people about and nod’s and the odd desperate smile was exchanged. I think it’s pretty obvious that people have had their fill of the Lockdown and wish normal service could be resumed as soon as possible. I wouldn’t call myself a particularly arms-out-wide kind of person, (in fact I’m a curmudgeon and life-long grumpy bastard) but even I have have had to fight back the urge to ask ‘how you doing?’

Something I quite miss is talking to strangers. Although, to be honest such a thing was never a regular occurrence in my life, (my appearance seems to put people off. The eye patch, three cornered hat (tricorn?) and a peg leg don’t exactly draw people to me), and although I have learned to live with it, when people do take the trouble to communicate, I love it. When people (usually fellow pirates admittedly) put their fears aside and make the effort to talk to me it’s always appreciated. As my dear old mum was fond of repeating, ‘you can’t judge a book by its cover’. The truth is I’m more Enid Blyton than Stephen King and am always open to conversation, especially unexpected conversation.

When I think back it has always been conversations with complete strangers that have stuck in my mind.

I remember when I was a Dry-Cleaner, a wizened old woman came to the counter of my shop and demanded to read my palm and look at my er…. nails. She declared in no uncertain terms that one day I would be extremely famous. What for, I never could work out because at that time I was particularly unambitious and was just ‘bobbing along’. Anyway, although her predictions were complete rubbish, her memory has stayed with me for a very long time.

I do wish we would engage a bit more. It would be really good to find out more about people and their lives. I know from the time I was a counsellor with MIND that other people’s lives are usually unbelievable and useful tools for living out our own existence. In other words, there is such a lot to learn. Communication is the key and cure for so many of our ills and maladies.

Social media just doesn’t cut it. It’s like distance learning. Sure, its useful and in some ways it fills a need but we are sociable creatures that without face to face contact and touch, we wither.

The Great Weather Forecast Conspiracy

Once again the Americans appear have taken the lead. This time in Conspiracy Theories…or so they think. Well, we can do better. The Stratfordian feels very strongly about this and cannot, in my heart of hearts allow the deeply troubled USA any sense of success in this area. Since Elizabethan times Great Britain has led the way in manipulation and lies, in smoke and mirrors. From Walsingham to MI5/6, conspiracy and the art of deception has been our ‘bag’ and long may it be so….

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The Great Weather Forecast Conspiracy

You’d think wouldn’t you, that in these horrible times where we’re all suffering from cabin fever and some of us are on the verge of insanity, that the one thing that they’d get right is The Weather Forecast?

You would think wouldn’t you, that in this age of dreadful uncertainty and the awful realisation that some of us may wake up dead in the morning, the very least they could do was provide us with an accurate and knowledgeable Weather Forecast? Something to set us up for the day. Something to send us on our merry way suitable dressed for whatever the British climate should choose to throw at us. The sad truth is, the weather forecast is not what it once was and the days are long gone when I would go purchase an umbrella on the advice of these charlatans.

Unfortunately, times have changed.

The weather forecast is not what it seems. It is not what it appears to be and is now being used for sinister and nefarious purposes. To put it bluntly, The Weather forecast has become, over the years the propaganda arm of the British Government.

Think about it.

It is a scientific fact that knowing what is going to happen in the British skies over our British heads (rain) is absolutely, and always has been, vital to our British well-being. The weather forecast holds a very special, and powerful place in what it means to be British. In short, whoever holds the keys to the weather forecast has, and I can think of no other way of putting this, has, an open door into the hearts and minds of a very large proportion of the British population. And because of that we are being led, albeit subconsciously, down a very dangerous path.

Think about the way we receive our weather news.

If it’s not boring men with beards telling us what’s going to happen weather-wise, it’s super attractive sultry women who are so let’s face it, so sexy that the weather is the last thing on even the keen weather-watcher’s mind.  Also, even if you were able to pull yourself away from the on-screen temptresses and take note of what was being said, it wouldn’t take you long to realise that the predictions were complete and absolute nonsense. Easily proved by the fact that there hasn’t been an accurate forecast for years.

It’s obvious that the whole thing is a plot, a ploy.

The truth is they can produce as many animated maps as they like but predicting the weather is the last thing they do. The whole thing is a ruse.

So what is it…The Weather forecast is a mind-control exercise.

In short. the BBC are pumping government propaganda into your dulled and diverted brain. The shocking thing is…THIS IS NOT NEW.

If you are as old as me no doubt you will remember TV’s, ‘Potter’s Wheel’.

Basically, a five-minute film of a potter’s wheel (yawn) and a pot being thrown. We were told that ‘there would be a short break’ before the next programme and ‘The Potter’s Wheel’ would ‘fill our time’.  I now know better.

We were being hypnotized. Manipulated and gently opened up to all sorts of (to this day) unknown propaganda. These, I suspect were experiments and the early days of mind-control.

And so it goes on…

Beware. Stay alert and watch the skies.

What went wrong Part I

what went wrong

It’s true you know. The closer one gets to one’s Sell-by date, the more time is spent looking back on one’s life and wondering ‘what went wrong’.

In my case I find myself looking back to the crazy time I decided that I was maybe, ‘holier than thou’ and should train as an Anglican Priest to prove a point.

Believe it or not and to cut a very long story short, I was accepted and went for training at the now extinct Salisbury and Wells Theological College, (I’ve always felt that I had something to with its demise but that’s another story for another time).  Anyway, within a few short months I think it’s fair to say, I had the distinct feeling that I might have made a big mistake and had been reading the signs wrong.

[NOTE: I put this feeling down to a recent pondering and subsequent enlightenment that throughout my life, I have been unable to, and have great difficulty in how you say…’Towing the line’. Or to be brutally honest, arrogance, i.e. ‘my way or the highway’].

Those ‘few short month’ I referred to a moment ago, kicked in when I realised most of the would-be Priests and Vicars I trained with (I include myself here) were, rather than disciples, hangers-on. All desperately looking for a way through their fear of life and who they really were,  that didn’t leave them at the bottom of the pile. 

To put in simply.

We/they all were in desperate need of someone to tell them what to do. The need for an authority figure to berate us when we misbehaved and sedate us if we had any thoughts of misbehaving. Someone/something to confess to and feel better about ourselves.

I fitted the bill perfectly. .I felt so much better about myself especially when I realised the comedic value of lots of grown men and women falling to their knees to confess their so-called ‘sins’. Usually, those moments in their lives when they had succumbed to their natural urges, sex and that, something I did all the time.

It was around that time that my vision/my idea of God, which was a little ‘loose’ to start with, started to diverge from the Gospel of the Church of England.

To cut a long story short I ended up as the last Ordinand in College without a job to go to. I gave up going to the chapel unless I had to and spent my time indulging. Anything to keep my mind off my original reasoning on being there. I felt a fool.

I actually was Ordained (Coventry Cathedral 1990/910. I ended up a Reverend-Imposter. A fraud. The only thing that got me through was telling myself that I was a servant of the people rather than God. I was a social worker in a priest’s clothing.

However, there is no way I regret my time at Salisbury and Wells. 

I learnt a lot. Especially about myself. I learnt that like all others, I am a complicated beast. I am unique (as are you). What suits me does not usually suit another. This realisation, I hope enables me to go a little way to understand my brothers and sisters and maybe assist in solving the complications and stresses in their own lives.

 I think differently now.

For instance, there is no room for prayer in my life anymore. Meditation, yes, asking for ‘get out of jail’ cards, no.

I am hardwired for survival and the easier and more pleasurable my life the better.  

I demand revenge from those who have hurt me (there goes forgiveness).

Sadly, I see no sign of this loving God that people talk about.

Somewhere along the line, we have misinterpreted, got it wrong. I suspect banking all on a tome written a very long time ago by a different culture, was perhaps our greatest mistake.

This has been a rambling post from the stratfordian

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