What Now Then Plan Man

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Life is full of lessons. Every day if we choose to look we would see them and one way or another learn something. This year for many has been a learning experience like no other, not more or less than other things but certainly unique. There is nobody who could have predicted what has happened and nobody who couldn’t have learnt at least something from it. The last twenty-four hours has thrown another spanner in my face, or even in the works, let’s call it both.

Strangely enough very little has actually changed. I am supposed to go out to Greece to do a little renovation work on someones boat mid-September. I was going to do a little sailing with a friend for the first week and then work for three. The three was the limit because I had tickets for a comedy show on the 15th October from an already postponed Jonathan Pie performance from April. Unfortunately in the last twenty-four hours all has changed. For family reasons my friend has cancelled the sailing and because of this virus the show has been postponed yet again, this time to May next year. Third time lucky? Perhaps it would be wise not to plan.

That’s it though really isn’t it. Some lessons sneak up on us but some we’re fully aware of as we step into and experience them. Without a doubt I’m fully aware of the futility of planning. I say futility because my track record of never sticking to my plans makes them pointless. One reason I never stick to them is not because I don’t do anything but is down to my acting on a whim as things happen. It makes me wonder if the planning is to create a safety net in my mind as well as allow me to escape and fantasise when life is not so interesting. Currently life is interesting in certain respects but with it being unfulfilling in others I can’t deny I don’t let my mind run sometimes.

This year has made planning anything a complete waste of time. Strangely enough I actually really enjoyed lockdown because I knew I had no options, I was trapped in one place and you can’t make plans when nothing can happen. Traditionally having no options would be a problem but perversely being aware of and being lucky enough to have many creates a different type of pressure and stress altogether. This disappeared and while lockdown brought up different problems, at least the one of options was a weight off my back. “Poor you” I hear you saying and you would be right as there are people trapped and miserable all around the world but stress and weight on you back is still stress and weight on your back.

Anyway, despite little really changing my plans have gone up in smoke once more and something else will happen. Interestingly something else always happens and we just make the most of it as it does. Think of this year and all the new things people have done for example. That’s the beauty of a flexible approach to life but somehow even when that is clearly the way we still manage waste so much time and energy living in little fantasies of what could happen or be happening. It really is so difficult living in the present moment. And to just give an example, I have barely even been present while writing this, the whole time has been spent fantasising about spending the winter diving and sailing in the Canary Islands. The first step to overcoming a problem is to acknowledge the existence of the problem. I have a problem.

Split Peas & Split People

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This might end up being one of those pieces which becomes a few random thoughts that aren’t related but I feel are worth mentioning. To begin with I’m having a nightmare trying to cook split peas. I was hoping to make a nice soup with sweet potato and carrot but these bloody peas just won’t cook. I soaked them for over twenty-four hours and have now had them boiling away for at least an hour to no avail. I enjoy cooking. I also enjoy eating and this enjoyment of eating and of having no money over the years means I’m not a bad cook. I don’t make enough soups though. A split pea soup sounds just lovely.

I’m a total romantic. I’m listening to Spanish Civil War music and dreaming of what could have been. It was such a glorious and horrific time. We like to imagine antifa and the antifascist as some new phenomenon but it’s been going as long as the fascist gave themselves such a name. I have mentioned this particular war a few times but it really is another example of the people being screwed over by power. Not just power in Spain but through the neutrality of countries like the UK. Franco had Hitler’s Germans and Mussolini’s Italians, the Republic ended up having no choice but relying on the Soviets who took over as best they could and did more damage than help. France may have been a Republic but it was never built on the ideals of decentralisation and the anarcho-collectives. The European powers as ever showed their true colours, for old powers like the British, Fascism was infinitely more palatable than people having true power. These things are contagious, they must be quashed.

The Twentieth Century was just a long list of outside interference with vested interests. Allende, Chile and Pinochet is always an easy one to bring up but let’s not forget Cambodia and Margaret Thatcher’s refusal to recognise the new communist government that replaced the genocidal maniac Pol Pot. She was also a bit of a fan of apartheid South Africa. Let’s not forget the British influence upon the overthrow of a democratically elected government in Iran that wanted to nationalise oil production, the dictatorship of the new Shah, a western puppet, more agreeable. General Suharto in Indonesia who killed a quarter of the population but who provided the Australians, as well as the US and Brits, with cheap access to natural minerals. Yugoslavia, the last Socialist country in Europe after the fall of the Soviet Union was never allowed to exist. It is always easier to control smaller broken up and angry states than one larger one.

Talking of apartheid, Palestine is another obvious one. Obvious because it is still going on not because it is ever really talked about. You wouldn’t know it if you just watched western media but Israel have been bombing the shit out of the Gaza Strip for eight straight days now. Apparently Hamas fired two homemade rockets out and the Israeli’s felt the need to obliterate them in return. Eight days and not a peep.

Anyway my split peas have burnt. I got carried away and forgot to check on them. I give up.

BR#Ten – The Old Man & The Sea

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There is a certain romanticism in literature. Not always the stories themselves but sometimes the stories of the stories, the stories of the creators of the stories. I understood that for the first time when a friend of mine told me the life of Lord Byron and proceeded to explain why I didn’t need to read any of his work, his life was the work. Ernest Hemingway is one of these people. He is there in the echelons of folk lore, another author to define an art and inspire a craft. This is actually my first Hemingway and considering my interest in and admiration for those involved in the Spanish Civil War, how I’ve not read For Whom The Bell Tolls is beyond me.

The protagonist is an old man called Santiago who has now gone eighty-four days at sea without catching anything and is seen as unlucky. On his eighty-fifth day, which is also a number of special significance apparently, he hooks the largest Marlin he has ever seen and allows it to pull him and his skiff, tiring itself out in the process for three days. This is a titanic battle between two great warriors who have lived and survived in their respective worlds up until this point, finally coming face to face. He needs this in a way and while he talks to himself of the money he will make it is evidently never really about this.

The Old Man & The Sea is a fable. There will surely be multiple essays and books upon what the lesson within it is but for me it is one of heroism, determination and acceptance. Acceptance in a way despite the fact he doesn’t accept defeat at any point until he has no choice. His acceptance comes from life and experience at sea; knowing that defeat can happen, but we fight until our last and then some more and if success doesn’t come we just carry on as it’s all part of everything.

Hemingway creates an air of romanticism around Santiago and it is easy to imagine him sitting by the harbour when in Cuba and watching the weather beaten old fishermen going out and if not knowing their stories then creating them. It is one of epic proportions in three days and one hundred pages. His simple use of language allows for you to easily get into the story but it is also this language which reveals all the hidden meaning as the story progresses. It definitely makes you want to jump in a skiff and set sail. The sea is a powerful and unforgiving mistress but she will teach you all you ever need to know.

An animation by Aleksander Petrov

One Clean Step Closer

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A friend of mine has always lived with either his mother, a mate of ours with OCD like cleaning tendencies or his girlfriend now wife. I like to wind him up by suggesting he’s had it easy, that he’s never done a days cleaning in his life. This is most likely an exaggeration, of course he will have had to clean up at home and at work he will have on multiple occasions but that knowledge of the likely truth doesn’t make my attempt at humour any less enjoyable. The reason I bring this up is because while I recognise the benefits of having a mother and have experienced girlfriends who pick after me, and me them, I am currently living the bachelor life and therefore am solely responsible for the state of my flat. It has been about eight months now living alone and generally over that time I have never let the place get too dirty or messy. That is subjective of course and I have no doubt the OCD like friend would first freak out before spend the greatest few hours of his life putting the place in order again.

Today then I decided to give the flat a good clean. I am going step by step because in truth I can’t be bothered and don’t have the time to do it all in one day. When you don’t really have anyone but yourself to keep the place clean and tidy for it is very easy to let everything slip and as I write that I am aware I can see an empty cardboard container which used to contain four little hipster beers I drank about a month ago. In truth it bothered me so little I didn’t even notice it. Dirt is one thing but mess like that, well it’s only cardboard and it’s only me, who cares. Today I decided to tackle the dirt though.

Bathrooms are deceptive when you’re not looking closely. The filth has a habit of sneaking up on you. Unless you’re cleaning your sink regularly for example, one day you’ll look at it properly and realise it’s filthy. When you’re just using the bath for a shower it can be the same thing. I won’t even go into the state of the toilet. As I read this I start to question whether guys are just disgusting. My OCD friend would beg to differ and it could just be one of those gender stereotypes but stereotypes when not created manipulate, can often come from somewhere that represents a truth of some kind. Boys are just icky. Full grown men, well let’s just call it being relaxed.

Anyway, it’s bathroom and kitchen down, tomorrow it’ll be living room and bedroom. Neither are overly dirty, they just need a tidy and a vacuum but to the untrained eye they would probably look worse than they are. There is something therapeutic about tidying and cleaning though. I actually quite enjoy it when I get into it. You’re cleansing the mind as much as scrubbing the floor. Okay mopping let’s be honest I didn’t scrub the floor. There is a lot of value is shifting the lethargy dirt and mess can bring and it’s a lethargy that is so easy to slip into and not notice has taken over. A little like the sink. Perhaps I should keep an eye on it a little more after all.

Brexit Anyone?

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Another government u-turn. There have been more, I know there have, but for the love of me right now I can’t remember what they were. Perhaps they’ll come to me. I wonder what it is that leads politicians into u-turns because they’re renowned for only doing so when forced. Perhaps that is what it was. The government were forced into it. There has been one hell of a public outcry this last week so it was coming. Perhaps one of the reasons they don’t like doing it too often is that it leads to suggestions they don’t quite know what they’re doing. Surely they should be making well researched and thought out proposal, ones which have survived the scrutiny of experts. It does suggest they may be incompetent, although I’ve suggested in the past I’m cautious of giving them that excuse. But they do seem to act either on a whim or in a rather morally repellent way that looks more like an ideological whim. They are arguably a one cause government though so it’s no surprise they are incapable of doing much else. A government for crisis they are not. Saying that they don’t even seem like a government capable of fulfilling their one cause either.

Ah Brexit. Have we forgotten about Brexit as we all die of the sniffles. It does feel a little like it’s been brushed under the carpet and while that may not always be such a bad thing, when it’s something so potentially devastating and something which has a deadline, it’s probably time we started focusing on it again. The ostrich in the sand trick once again won’t work here. It is only slightly over four months away. Only four months I repeat. Renowned negotiators they are not. Shall we just prepare to crash out on World Trade Organisation terms and stumble dazed into the arms of the Americans. It does look suspiciously as if that was the plan all along and they seem to be doing little about preventing it. They have Covid-19 as an excuse for not getting a trade deal, although it’s not an excuse. They’ll also have the virus as an excuse for an economy that will be the ashes Jacob Rees Mogg’s father always dreamt of. To rebuild society in their image. Begone hard fought for rights. The twentieth century never happened. Long live Queen Victoria and the poor house. Now get back to work peasant, know your place, my lawn won’t cut itself.

The Habitual Self-Evolution

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Now it’s not that I’m not enjoying this writing challenge that I set myself and thought others might like inflicted upon them, but when I finally decided to check to see when the last day would be and discovered it not in early October or possibly even late September, instead mid November, my heart sunk a little. There was a little glimmer of hope in my mind that I had less than two months left and it turned out I have a full three. As I said it’s not that I’m not enjoying it and I know for certain I’m getting a lot from it, but I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to not have a day in which there isn’t something at the back of my mind reminding me I still have to sit down and write something. It does feel like my one daily chore and as I write that I realise how lucky I am to have only one real chore. It’s not cool to blow ones own trumpet but for such an undisciplined person it has been a remarkable show of discipline. If only it was possible to transport that into other parts of my life.

It’s also quite easy though let’s be honest. To write four times a week but on any particular day or even at any frequency within the week would probably be more of a challenge than knowing it’s a daily routine of sitting down and doing something. When something has to be done daily there is a lack of opportunity for free thought and potential excuses. If I know I don’t necessarily have to do something today as I still have tomorrow to do it creates a different kind of challenge altogether. Discipline with choice or discipline without. I know myself and it may be a struggle. They do say, whoever ‘they’ are, that if you can do something for a whole year you will create enough of a habit to be able to maintain consistency and practice. I’ll now have a real example to use of whether I believe there to be any truth in that.

My heart sunk then when I discovered I still have a quarter of a year to go. It sunk despite knowing I enjoy and appreciate the benefits of doing this. This isn’t about really refining any styles, although I hope I will have done without realising. I’ll read from the beginning one day and see if my writing evolved over the time. It is about creating the habit of doing something regularly. I know I repeat myself a lot, or assume I do, but certainly I see a huge importance in understanding, observing and changing habit where necessary. So much of our lives are defined by habit. Arguably our actions and potentially even characters are just a series of habits formed from birth. We can say we have both good and bad habits and there would be validity in such a statement but I would like to explore whether it’s possible to challenge all habits no matter how they’re viewed in my mind. Can we be habit free? If habits are character defining then the answer is probably no but it would certainly be fun trying to find out. In the meantime this is simply one more piece closer to a new and hopefully long term habit. I share this with you, and pretend sometimes it’s for you, but let’s be honest I’m just using you all in my quest for some kind of self-evolution.

#accidentalpartridge

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I am not kidding that is actually a real and genuine picture of Nigel Farage. Somebody out there without a hint of irony thought it was not only a good image but one worthy of loading up into the public sphere of life. This is no joke, actually it is because it’s hilarious. This is the man who wants you to follow him up the ramparts and help defend the British Isles from an invasion of hordes of swarms of stampedes of scary looking fellow human beings. Perhaps he’s aiming for the lonely middle aged women in Kent with too many cats. Alternatively, this could just be his new picture for his dating profile on Tinder but hopefully I’ll never find out. “Draw me like one of your French girls” he implored. What a clown.

I’ve been avoiding discussing the hysteria the media tried to drum up last week, or this week, or whenever it was about people trying to cross the English Channel. But then I saw this image and had no choice. Obviously thousands of people cross the English Channel everyday, but these were “illegal asylum seekers” according to one renowned and unscrupulous daily rag. These three words then found themselves bandied about in the rhetoric of those with vested interests and those who’ve been told they have vested interests. That there is no such thing as an illegal asylum seeker is obviously of no importance in the world of who can shout the loudest and whip the most people into a frenzy. It is neither illegal to cross the channel or to claim asylum in any country. That is international law and we are not all of a sudden about to rewrite it just to appease a few scared and unscrupulous racists from the south of England.

It was a handy distraction from Covid-19 and numerous other government incompetencies, it’s just a shame for them that A-Level results were released and everybody stopped caring about a few desperate people risking their lives crossing a bit of sea because possible death was better than what they were leaving behind. All of a sudden everyone realised they themselves have children or know children who have been affected by this mob in power. An issue of immediate importance will always rise above a conflated artificial one that ninety-five percent of the population will not even notice in their daily life. Arguments on immigration have become as entrenched as any other in this polarised world we now live in. The right being self-serving arseholes and the left being self-serving moralists, both sides realising the truth is as ever probably somewhere in the middle. The fact there is no perfect solution if we keep on looking in the wrong places seemingly and conveniently being forgotten. Anyway as a great man on Norwich Radio once said, “Could go your way, could go mine. Either way, one of us is going down”.

Toxoplasma Gondii

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For anyone familiar with the bleak early days of this blog back in November / December last year when the drama of this 2020 was still a thing of science fiction, I mentioned I was reading a book called Gut by Giulia Enders. Well it turns out I’m still reading it. This longevity isn’t because it’s difficult, quite the opposite in fact or boring, also quite the opposite. I just get distracted and either read other things or am too busy, but keep dipping into it when I fancy reading some more. This morning I read a little on Toxoplasma gondii. For anyone Scottish it is simply unimaginable not to be familiar with the film Trainspotting, and for those who are, they will be aware of this bacteria from the character Tommy catching it from his cat before dying from it and heroin. Naturally then this little mini-chapter grabbed my attention.

It turns out it’s actually an incredibly interesting bacteria which considering it’s size can have an enormous affect on it’s host. Cats, not all of course, carry this bacteria and it is spread to humans usually through their faeces in cat litter trays. It can find it’s way onto raw vegetables in your garden if a cat has either done it’s business or died within, as well as through animals such as pigs or chickens when we eat them. The chances of humans contracting toxoplasma are, in percentage terms, about as high as your age and about a third of the global population have them. We’re talking a reasonably high probability and billions of people. They don’t have an overly negative immediate affect on the human body, sometimes creating flu-like symptoms, so not too dissimilar to this virus for many people. Pregnant women though have to be very careful as it can damage the unborn baby and lead to miscarriages. What is fascinating about it though is the affect it has on our behaviour.

A study at Oxford University discovered rats, who would ordinarily and instinctively avoid cats urine, would when infected with toxoplasma not only be fearless of the cats urine but actively stay near it. This bacteria removed certain inhibitors in the rats brain, the bacteria which wanted to exist within the cats gut was offering up the rat, it’s host, as dinner and sacrifice. This tiny bacteria was influencing and arguably controlling the actions of a far larger creature. The rats were indifferent to human, dog and other varieties of urine, the rats and their cat loving bacteria interested in cats piss alone.

Like anything of this ilk proved on rats it wasn’t long before it was tested out on humans. She refers to a large scale experiement in which 3,890 soldiers from the Czech army were tested for toxoplasma and then over the next year the numbers of accidents they were involved in was recorded and analysed. It turned out those with the bacteria, and particularly those with rhesus negative blood type, were involved in the highest number of accidents. It turns out, and I’m going to crudely paraphrase this, that when infected the immune system activates an enzyme called IDO which breaks down a substance the invaders like to eat, forcing them to become dormant. Unfortunately this substance is also vital in the creation of serotonin, a lack of which is linked to depression and various anxiety disorders, as well as lethargy and general indifference. IDO is also highly activated during pregnancy, hence the link, and this and the immune systems response can sometimes treat the baby as a semi-alien which leads to miscarriages.

To take this further, the toxoplasma bacteria hide away in a few places but predominantly the amygdala section of the brain. This is also the area in which our fear receptors exist. This is also seemingly the part of the brain responsible for the decision making process, if you’re a parasite attempting to promote self-destructive tendencies, this is probably the best place to exist. Humans with toxoplasma were also found to have a different response to cats urine than those without, men especially seemed to prefer it with women less so. Interestingly the proportion of carriers among schizophrenics is about twice that among non-schizophrenics.

Science and medicine move slowly, unless you’re creating vaccines for pandemics of course, so it’ll still be a long time before these factors are tested for regularly and this understanding of behaviour and bacteria become common practice. It does though make you think about certain behaviours in people that just seem illogical and insane. Why someone could be so reckless is now slightly less inexplicable. Or even perhaps why you yourself have done so many stupid things over the years. I’m not suggesting we all go out and sniff cats urine to check our response of course, but this does open possibilities for how we view and understand behavioural patterns. This is just one parasite and if it’s possible for this one to create these suicidal and reckless tendencies, how do we know other bacteria don’t also affect our behaviours. There is so much we just don’t understand about our bodies yet we behave as if we know it all. The gut and the varieties of little enzymes and bacteria within can change everything about us yet we give it next to no attention. I am barely even a layman in regards to these things but it is exciting that we are starting to really see some movement and understanding of things within us that could potentially change our lives for the better. Who knows, if we can positively change our own behaviours with this, maybe science could save the whole world in a most highly unexpected of ways too. Either that or the cats may just take over the world after all.

Educating Irony

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Although the exact wording now alludes me, and with my lack of desire to look back over previous posts, I shall paraphrase myself. “The Scottish government made a total tits up of the exam results, surely the Tory government will see their mistake and avoid doing the same thing”. There was more, I mentioned the imbalance between affects on those attending state schools and those attending private schools, and how this was the perfect opportunity for the Tories to twist an easily insertable knife into the SNP. Well it looks like they couldn’t find the knife, or perhaps they didn’t quite understand what went wrong with the SNP. Gavin Williamson, the Education Secretary, has exposed another Member of Parliament for not having a clue what they’re doing and having absolutely no understanding of their area of ‘expertise’. He only went and lowered loads of English students grades, the very thing the SNP went and did a week early with dramatic failure. Not only that but it appears he hasn’t exactly lowered many grades of students going to private schools only the poor kids who have less opportunity for recourse.

Admittedly Gavin Williamson wouldn’t have made this decision. This is a political one and he simply does what he is told to do by someone higher up than him. He is the face of this department though so it’ll be his head on the chopping block. The day before the results came out the government released news of some triple lock that would secure kids from having anything lower than their mock exam results. Unfortunately the next day it appeared the lock was non-existent and thousand of kids have now had their futures inexplicably altered. But it is explicable lets be honest. For political purposes they couldn’t be seen to be having much higher grades than normal across the board, so they devised a formula and lowered some. In the process they undermined the teachers and called into question their professionalism and abilities. What is the point of taking months to devise a system if at the last minute you change it because it doesn’t suit your narrative.

There are many things we could discuss in this, there are most likely details I don’t know and have overlooked, but ultimately these things are simply affirming details. Despite the Scottish warning signs these idiots have shown themselves up once more for being utterly inept at doing their job. Or maybe they did there job perfectly, perhaps it was no accident that there was a clear bias in favour of privately educated kids. He’s hardly going to downgrade his mates kids results now is he. But as he said, he doesn’t want to “overpromote” anyone beyond their abilities. Clearly the irony was lost on some.

Memories & Living With La Cabra Negra

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Humour me, I’m going to be self-indulgent. I’ve been having some weird sensations recently. It has been a long time since I’ve gone this long without travelling to another country. Even travelling within one place. The lockdown has made me change habits. You can’t run off somewhere when you fancy a change if the whole world is on lockdown. Sitting on a jungle beach in Costa Rica, diving in the Andaman Islands or maybe with a mate of mine in Brazil. Just sailing somewhere warm like Fiji or the icy cold north has also entered my little realm of fantasy recently. But I’m also in a weird way happy not to be running off. As I said habits have changed and I see possibilities with this version of normality I have created. It needs to evolve and it’ll change immeasurably before I make it in my own image but I suspect all of those things will still happen at some point before and after I reach this point. I’m really happy with this too. These sensations though have nothing to do with future desires or ways of life. These are feelings from the past.

For much time I have forgotten my adventures, determined not to be that guy who just lives on his them, repeating them to someone until they get bored and you’re forced to move on. This forgetting though has also been because I have been creating new ones and haven’t needed to dwell on things that have happened. Now though without this ability to move on and find something new to experience, I am stuck experiencing a new way which I’ve allowed forced upon me. I different kind of forward. I have found myself over these last few months remembering past events or people and this began out in a sad way as in a way I wished I could go back to these moments. This is entirely natural. This has evolved though as now I have found myself experiencing these moments and seeing them through eyes that are happy to have had them. Instead of desiring their return I have been appreciating them, but more importantly in the strangest way experiencing parts of them once more.

It’s these sensations. This is the important part, the rest is a different special. To imagine yourself back in the moment and experiencing the forest air on the nostril, the sea water on the hot skin, the rain on the face. The emotion of seeing someone or experiencing a place that leaves you speechless. Even the sounds and visuals that I felt have been coming back to me. It’s hard to explain but it’s as if I’m experiencing memories with an intensity that touches on the actual moment as it happened, not just a thought of something that runs through my mind as a movie screen. I’ll go with it because it’s fascinating and I know it too won’t last forever. It’s all just about trying to understand. That’s all we can do. Be the cabra.