Category: The Unconventional Thesis of a woman from Glasgow
The Joke of a Man
The joke of a man,
was addressing his gang of thieves,
in banquette hall, dressed in all his finery,
Puffed up penguin style,
his consort by his side,
pinked up, & proud, with sparkles of coal chips, adorning her hair.
Smiling, like a tame buffoon from the city,
he boasted of his to do list, and his done list.
Spitting out his perils of wit-less,twee dribble dums,
to his admiring cackling vatmen,
who greedily supped servings, from silver platters,
washed down with bubblies, from delicate crystal goblets.
He talked of trading & forces,
masters of destinies,
logistics,
military provisions & decisions…
And,… of G men gigs he had attended,
8’s & 7’s & 20’s …
Common wealth was high on his agenda
& how few with assets abundant like his, & theirs, & the machines… were clearer, in his big society.
He spoke on learning lessons, and more,
and of his wants,
smiling broadly with choice words
on freedom & threats to humanity.
He punched out profound prattling on political weight,
as he measured up his house boys and girls,
ceremoniously,
calling them to order, as they clapped
seals,
approval…
Toasting … their special relationships.
Commercial interests, he proclaimed were at his heart…
and focusing on mobilizing resources, diplomatically…
Not making enough was important to him
he said, with a serious expression
& He told of his journeys planned
& tours he had interest to advance…
For he was determined he stated…
Strategies & councils were high, around his table
& gearing the machine for clear missions,
He was hard -headed on his, Interests… he proclaimed with pride,
& with his promises & pledges
Apparently, his view was clear…
talking of the cybermen,
kits & deployments, fighters
& tankers, destroyers & hunter-killers,
and not forgetting insecure policies,
he was aiming high
his agencies were holding firm on aid & targets…
Charities were secured he said,
far-reaching, and profoundly of interest
to his more, commercial, strategies,
Sum raised glasses…
His moral values were lazar-focused
on financial interest,
he declared
not to mention the resources he had,
and the value of,
his armory was secure, he said,
with all his integrity…
The joke of a man,
was addressing his gang of thieves,
in banquette hall, dressed in all his finery,
Puffed up penguin style,
his consort by his side,
pinked up, & proud, with sparkles of coal chips, adorning her hair.
Smiling, like a tame buffoon from the city,
he boasted of his to do list, and his done list.
Spitting out his perils of wit-less-dums,
to his admiring cackling vatmen,
who greedily supped servings, from silver platters,
washed down with bubblies, from delicate crystal goblets.
He talked of trading & forces,
masters of destinies,
logistics,
military provisions & decisions…
And,… of G men gigs he had attended,
8’s & 7’s & 20’s …
Common wealth was high on his agenda
& how few with assets abundant like his, & theirs, & the machines… were clearer, in his big society.
He spoke on learning lessons, and more,
and of his wants,
smiling broadly with choice words
on freedom & threats to humanity .
He punched out profound prattling on political weight,
as he measured up his house boys and girls,
ceremoniously,
calling them to order, as they clapped
seals,
approval…
Toasting ….their special relationships.
Commercial interest, he proclaimed were at his heart…
and focusing on mobilising resources, diplomatically…
Not making enough was important to him
he said, with serious expression
& He told of his journeys planned
& tours he had interest to advance…
For he was determined he stated…
Strategies & councils were high, around his table
& gearing the machine for clear missions,
He was hard headed on his, Interests… he proclaimed with pride,
& with his promises & pledges
Apparently, his view was clear…
talking of the cybermen,
kits & deployments, fighters
& tankers, destroyers & hunter killers,
and not forgetting insecure policies,
he was aiming high
his agencies were holding firm on aid & targets…
Charities were secured he said,
far reaching, and profoundly of interest
to his more, commercial, strategies,
Sum raised glasses…
His moral values were lazar focused
on financial interest,
he declared
not to mention the resources he had,
and the value of,
his armory was secure, he said,
with all his integrity…
THE GENERATION OF THE GERMINATION, OF THE STRAWBERRY FIELDS
it wasn’t easy… pre tending
watching pretenders, who tended the machine
waiting, taking part,a way forward,
Cleared, beyond the merest memory of memory…
Minds eye
guides, forerunners, wise ones
children of the lost generation,
the pilots, and captains and foot soldiers
who swam in torrid oceans,
Fought great battles, and, had fallen…
For the sake of better days to come.
Heroes & brave souls,
Who came 2 be laid in distant fields
where strawberries once had grown,
& their heads were fucked.
Lest we forget…
They had sat & stood beside the wall
behind the gates, below the arch
And wondered, was it real at all?
or effects, of acid rains that fell as
purple haze, dropped,
over all.
filling the atmosphere,
Aromatic grass, smoldered & burned
drinking in free spirits
dancing lucidly
calling out the changes in whispered melodies
“Hey man this can’t be real…
Are y u connected…
wired up…
do u feel it too…
Does it feel right or wrong to you…
let it be… for now… wait & see…
if it’s to it will be….
wait patiently for the next chapter…
Who or what, would follow
their generation
Lest we forget…
The children of the revolution
from the germination,
of the generation, of the strawberry fields….
where seeds were sown, in swimming lights and stars bright…
under the arch, beside the wall
Where they heard the call, wondering was it real, et al
waiting to see,
what would come to fruition
beneath the moon where
they sang along to ancient tunes
with tears for fears, from yester years
and yester jesters, and testers, & mind molesters…
and scary monsters waiting in
a labyrinth of cranium corridors
to flounce & pounce forth, & sometimes,
dancing passionately, wildly, with midnight demons
amongst the treasure chests,
where bruised joys & sorrows lay in wait
for happier highways
to stroll and waltz and tango & jive
passing high 5’s and kicking heels
& smiling with angels of ever, never tomorrows
Towards the horizon where love is said to dwell
Sometimes,
and was… OR wasn’t … forever, not as it should be
intercepted
by how’s, and where’s, & swears, and damn it’s, and damn them’s,
& passers through….
Who seemed unclear of what to do… or how to proceed….
Searching always for answers,
sometimes agreed, sometimes not, never forgot
left hanging unbalanced, In a nowhere
filled with despair of no hope
where nothingone cares
sometimes, feeling, their breath
hearing them shout, scream, pleading
and sometimes, seeing them, bleeding & hungry…
feeling their pain, knowing their distain
and growing weary, tired and helpless
missing kith & kin.
So far away, oftimes silent
the missing, Who, where, were not there
to hold smell, tell, touch
becoming unglued
tangled, fandangoed, lost.
in the web spun
electronic pulsations,
stuck… torn asunder…
in all directions, no direction, selection
on page dusters… grim ass busters
about their duties…
random indiscriminate cleansing…
genoci-deal fashion…
observed inspectors…
information collectors
paying the price… to keep things nice
in an ordinary orderly way …
in accordance with how bosses felt it should stay…
so they didn’t have to pay
for inconvenient interference
collateral damage, and hear say
that questioned the way of what they had to say…
or, how they dictated the job should be done,
in manuals… written in stone, monotonous tones…
never changed
causing many to be deranged …
having their minds rearranged …
electrifying pulsations…
help them reform…
frustrations transformed
clean up their act… and conform.
Get on track and don’t talk back…
or get out of order…
that wasn’t the way
the company chiefs say
is the correct, orderly way
at the end of the day…
Lest we forget…
They have forgotten.
They have gone rotten.
In the strawberry fields
Where the generation of the germination lie.
source
I have felt you
a source, journeying with me
and through me
on my voyage within the ultra-conscious.
We are but sentient entities,
sometimes resting on the cosmic winds of time
transcending dimensions, through the voids of infinity.
We have battled the storms of many eons,
as one, and alone,
cum together and drifted
into the conscious memories of others like us
We are many…
separate, and separated,
yet still conjoined by the ultimate,
still unactualized, our quest
yet to be realized.
We have loved and loathed,
laughed and cried, lived and died,
and danced through the radiant infernal,
untethered and rebellious,
and risen again.
We carry with us forgotten dreams
and memories of unfulfilled ambition,
wars and battles, that scared our spirits
and sit heavy with our souls, but we travel onward
aware of the beauty and magnificence,
aware of the horrors of each incarnation,
focused on the quest for peace and actualization
in the continuum define.
Pepa pig and the great British NHS robbery
Today 22.11.21, MSM news is flashing the headline:
“Boris Johnson was left floundering today when he lost his place in a high-profile speech to business leader”
And no doubt in households across the UK people will be saying,
“OMG, what’s he like,
what has Pepa pig got to do with anything, he must have finally lost the plot, he’s such a bumbling bafoon is Boris, “
And I think 
AYE, HA FUCKING, HA BAFOON MY ARSE, the man is a dangerous fascist bastard.
Surely, I am not alone when I think that the “Peppa pig” references have a George Orwell doublespeak context, or has no one read or heard of Animal Farm? where all animals are equal but some are more equal than others?
And while Animal Farm’s characters were based on political characters from a different era and regime, it’s not so difficult to look at them now and see similarities to the present conservative administration. I can easily identify Snowball, Napoleon, old Major, squealer, Boxer Mollie, and others, within the ranks of the various Johnston cabinets shuffled and reshuffled!
That said, the same could be said of other Tory cabinets in the last decade, and perhaps the alleged floundering by Boris in his “Pepa pig speech” https://youtu.be/NFluJtzCZ2Y
was also a “black mirror” reflection, and jibe at his old school, Burlington club buddy, and rival, former PM, David Cameron, who had his own piggish platters to deal with in the press during his leadership.
I have sat down with men like Boris, hell, I can go further, I have laid down with them, in the distant past, & been council to their personal, most secret, views, lewd beliefs, both sober & drunken ranting, and heard the boasting of their limitless egos.
Arrogant, obnoxious, elitist yes absolutely he is, but an ignorant bumbling fool, no, I think not. Irrespective of what you may feel about the upper echelons of the workings of the British education system public or private, and in particular Universities, Boris Johnson has an Eton education, he studied the classics Balliol College, Oxford where he is reported to have achieved an upper second in Literae Humaniores (Classics and Philosophy). He was president of the Oxford Union and a member of the infamous Bullington Club.
So, even if his place at Oxford was bought and paid fo, and exam results, were solicited with secret handshakes, and donations behind closed doors in hunting lodges of the old school alma mater of his father Stanley, he has had, what most would consider a good, privileged, educated, and some of the subject matter within the learning process will have registered, I dislike him immensely, but I am not stupid enough to think for a second he is a moronic fool.
I am aware of his position on eugenics and have met, nae, I have known, others like him, including within my own family circle.
This is why I suggested that there was no floundering or error in his performance at the CBI speech, only theatrical timing, and posturing for effect.
Alexander, Boris De Pfeffel Johnston, has been preparing for his present role his entire life. He has been well educated in the stagecraft required for his star role. His character has gone through the training and necessary auditions and bit parts, and he is well versed in the speeches required for the theatres of war on every front, and, how best, his well-rehearsed character/ public persona, should deliver his lines, & present his performance, he is a fine representation of method acting, the epitome it might be suggested.
Even his name reflects that, although I suspect Alexsander (Defender of mankind) was duly applied to a hierarchy that regarded mankind in terms related to eugenics. Boris, who is considered in elite circles to be from good stock, is a playful wolf in the guise of a harmless sheep, but if you go deeper into the characteristics of the wolf, the wolf is a pack animal, playful intelligent, and devoted to family.
D’ Pfeiffel, ( French; of Pfellel related to family name) my understanding of the word pfeffel was from my father who might say “don’t talk such pfeffel meaning nonsense!” A pfeller, I believe is defined as a willful clown, although the urban dictionary defines it thus
https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Pfeffel.
I am sure Boris would like to see himself cast as a John Snow, the character from Game of Thrones, an honorable wolfman with integrity, but he is most definitely not, and he may fool some of the people some of the time, but not all of the people all of the time, and I certainly ain’t falling for his polished performance, laced with innuendo & symbolism for the initiated.
He, is in truth, I suggest a combination of the worst traits of Orwell’s Animal Farm characters, Napoleon, & Squealer, combined, although I suggest that’s got a lot to do with his upbringing under the influence and grooming of an elitest, abusive, narcissistic father.
So, there you have it my opinion, in relation to the CBI, farcical, fascist, alleged debacle, which was a great propaganda exercise to deflect public attention to the vote on ,
The health Bill 2021, a corporate takeover privatizing the NHS.
https://bills.parliament.uk/bills/3022
.Either way, and anyway, Animal Farm gives us a damn good insight into the ways of totalitarian leadership, and anyone who fails to see that this is exactly the path the present conservative government is on, and trying to drag the nation down is in my opinion, frankly delusional, this is the great New World Order, Corporate fascist swindle and take over, in action, be aware, be very aware, and be afraid, be very afraid.
https://youtu.be/rP1E61wL_Os Animal farm full movie 1999
https://youtu.be/1gwJCJ1TD50 Animal Farm audiobook
status update…
Sad, disappointed, tired, lethargic, pained, drained, despondent, undervalued, unappreciated, deceived, betrayed, maybe I just expect too much, have too much hope, too much faith, certainly not too much confidence, but maybe too much ego, vanity, self believe, to much willingness to self deceive…
Wish I had confidence and some element of some kind of other people’s respect, but I guess that’s the sum total of my life path to date, if I am honest I have few regrets, so what else really can I expect?
or perhaps a kick in the conscience is what I am due for wallowing in self-pity like that’s ok to do…
Maybe I should just go lie down and sleep & pray that the aliens my soul will take, to have hold or keep…
Viking Monologue
This is a wee attempt at a comedy monologue sketch I wrote and recorded back at the beginning of the year. At the time I didn’t share it publically as I wasn’t in a very good place mentally and my confidence had taken a bit of a knock, I was in two minds whether to continue writing at all, but the truth is writing and the arts are my therapy and to stop either would be like giving u breathing, though I have been hesitant to share for a while, I am getting over my anxieties and beginning to remember who I am and why I share my work, my art.
So, anyway, the recording quality isn’t very good as it was daft o’clock around the witching hour, and I was reading the script, rather than having learned it, and rehearsed, so even as an amdram, it could have, and should have been better, but it was only to share with friends and family, I wasn’t auditioning for the Scottish national theatre! 🤦♀️🤷♀️
My perspective on asking that Assange be Pardoned by the Trump or any other USA president.
While I understand, and empathise with the desperation, and pain of the family of Jullian Assange, and how his suffering, and plight, affects his mother Christine Assange, and Father, John Shipton, his adult children, his partner Stella Morris, and their two enfant boys, and all his close friends and supporters, I cannot beleive that JulianAssange, in sound mind, would compromise his integrity, even after ten years of abuse, and torture of his human, & indeed, his civel rights, to ask the likes of Donald Trump for a pardon, it just does not compute in my mind.
Sure, I understand that his supporters, and family, have reached a point of desperation where all they want is Julian free, I want that too, but I just can’t imagine Juilan Assange would beg, any corrupt individual, or organisation for a pardon, for alleged crimes he didn’t commit.
I cannot imagine that Julian Assange, the hero, who exposed war crimes and held governments to account ,would willingly incriminate himself, and his organisation Wikileaks, by asking for “PARDON”.
A pardon request, infers guilt, that a crime was committed by the person who seeks it.
That ricrimination is in order. A pardon suggests an admitance of guilt, and goes against all that Julian has stood to expose for over a decade, and suffered, torture, abuse of rights, arbitory detention, and imprisonment for, to date.
I’VE SUPPORTED #Assange FROM THE BEGINING, and I find this whole “#pardon” rhetoric completely wrong and insulting, not just to #JulianAssange, but to the whole ethos that #WikiLeaks is meant to represent, and I think it beggars belief, that the idea or word “pardon” is even part of the equation, or that Julian Assange himself, in his right mind ,would go along with it.
That is not a slur to Julian, but it is a reflection of his suffering, and #abuse, and that #coercive pressure is at hand.
When you request “PARDON” you infer a crime was committed by Julian Assange. Julian Assange has not been shown to have committed or admitted any #crime of #espionage or #treason, which the #USA is charging him with, and which sets the president of the #extradition request.
Why then, and for what is a pardon necessary?.
#Journalism is not crime.
Are you asking that he be pardoned for #publishing evidence of #warcrimes as a journalist?
If so, then shame on you, you are no longer standing with Julian, you are standing with those who seek to #incriminate him and #Journalism by inferring what #WikiLeaks, Julian, and those who published with him, and #exposed, war crimes were wrong or #illegal, and no, it was not.
What was exposed was criminality of the worst kind, war crimes, by those at the top of government, and someone has to hold the #government to account.
It has always been my understanding that was the job of men and woman of #conscience, those of the #freepress, decent, good, journalist with #integrity who protect their sources, and act as the messengers of truth.
#ChelseaManning was pardoned by the #Obama administration for the theft of the documents passed to Wikileaks, she is now at #liberty to live her life as she chooses.
Julian Assange published the information via his WikiLeaks org & with other MSM media outlets, if Julian is to be charged, then so must every other editor involved in publishing these documents that Julian shared via WikiLeaks, and what does that say about the USA as the home of the free, and its constitution?
If the incoming #Biden government truly serves the people, truth and freedom, if it truly supports the rights of #humanity as a whole in the interest of #equality and #democracy then it MUST end the pursuit of Julian Assange for #exposing warcrimes, and begin to make amends for the crimes of past #USgovernment administration, and the war crimes they have been involved in,
WarCrime exposed by the journalism of Julian Assange via his wikileaks orginisation and their associates in the free press.
Warcrimes that have contributed to civilian #deaths, #destruction, #displacement, and #poverty, around the world, and caused the deaths #injury and #harm, to the #mentalhealth and well being of thousand civilians and #USmilitary personel, and indeed, the military personel and familes of their allies, servicemen, and woman, and by association, harm to their families, as well as damaging the reputation of The United States of America as a civalized trustworthy nation around the world.
Isolation
This is a writing therapy exercise prompted by a task previously set at a writing group I used to attend to write a 20 minute monologue suitable for radio.
I decided to video it during isolation after seeing some of the shorts scripts posted on line by The Scottish National Theatre Company and shared it with friends on my facebook page.
I’ve decided it to share it here now following encouragement by a friend on social media. I guess because whats the point of keeping my projectpage going if I don’t post on it anymore.
So aye, hope you enjoy.
Mental Health Awareness Week
Yesterday my eldest son asked me if I was having an episode, and I replied flippantly/ sarcastically,
“Not every period of deep thoughts and sentiment is an episode, sometimes it is just a period of deep reflection, a connecting the conscious and subconscious, to the bigger picture, so, no I wouldn’t say I was, having an episode is something very different to how I am at the moment”.
I wasn’t lying, although I realize now I wasn’t telling the truth either, I was in that place of self-denial where ego and arrogance blur the reality of mania, and I forget what being manic is. I was semi-aware I had been triggered having spent the night before without sleep, overthinking, unable to stop thoughts racing. Memories, good and bad, flooding my mind in a tsunami of sentiments. My whole body aching and drained of energy. I had only just gone to bed and fell asleep with the help of two pain killers before he called. I just hadn’t recognized what had triggered me, which in fairness to myself is unusual these days, as I normally do and as a result, can take the appropriate steps that I know will help me maintain balance and not fall towards the dark place.
During our conversation, I had made some out there comments about geometry, for what must have seemed to him no apparent reason, although in my mind at the time it made perfect sense to me because I know the sentiments and thoughts that had triggered the questions, but I couldn’t explain them in a way that might have made sense on a different day in better context, and even if I could have he didn’t have time for that, I’m not sure he ever would have time for that kind of conversation with me, I know my mental health makes him uncomfortable, I know he finds it hard to have deep and meaningful conversations about stuff with me, and I understand that I get it I really do, but it doesn’t make the difficulties in communication any easier, though I desperately wish it did.
I am aware that I can be quite arrogant and even egotistical about how well I believe I manage my mental health without anti-depressants, anti-psychotic, or other prescribed meds used to treat mental health conditions. I am aware that sometimes I think I understand and know more about my condition than I probably do, as a result of my studies, life, and work experiences, and I have no doubt that when I am in that blurred place of self-denial, between manic high and clinging to the tightrope above the abyss of dark depression, psychosis & all else within that place, my arrogance and ego are amplified tenfold in mania, the high of self believe and invincibility, the false sense of restored confidence and ability.
Following the conversation, I spent the rest of the day with random intervals of uncontrollable tears prompted by various random thoughts still unfocused and unable to eat for the third day in a row, tired and drained to the marrow of energy and feeling anxious and guilty that I had worried or upset my son during this period of lockdown when he has enough to worry about without me adding burden.
Eventually, I decided to go on Facebook if only to divert my thoughts, read some positive posts & listen to some tunes to help me relax, and to my surprise, it helped more than I expected and I went to bed but was again unable to sleep, my body filled with shivers and shaking, my feet freezing though my body was sweating and still aching, though the mania I suggest beginning to subside, I felt calmer and focused so got up to have a hot drink and a couple of painkillers to ease the aching muscles to hopefully help me sleep, and write something about a movie I had watched on Sunday night, that had prompted an idea for a writing piece I was pondering. Writing for me is a therapeutic exercise, it helps me focus, and more often than not prevents me from falling into the abyss of darkness and despair.
As the kettle boiled for my drink I think I worked out what the trigger was, though I suspect that this period of lockdown and a build-up of thoughts and related worries over last few days, or probably if I’m completely honest to myself and you, the past couple of weeks subconsciously, also contributed but I was perhaps suppressing them, as even as I write this I feel myself recognizing the signs I was slipping were there in my physical sense of well being, which won’t have helped either.
If it was an episode it was briefer than most, and that I am able to write this with a sense of calm and focus then I suggest at very least the worst has past and I have managed it I hope reasonably well, and without falling to the dark place and that for me is a good result.
And if you are wondering what I think the trigger was, it was the movie I watched on Sunday night that I was going to write about when I started writing this instead, Educating Reta, but that explanation and analysis will have to wait till another day, as now finally I feel I just might be able to go to bed and successfully fall to sleep.
junei96.com 