Category Archives: Duplicity

On The Subject of Treading on Hazardous Ground With Confidence

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Foreword and forewarning: Trigger subjects. Religion. Belief. Abortion. If you would rather not read any further please leave now lest you be offended or upset. Also those of you who feel sardonic levity should be be included, well that’s me I fear.

On with the post:

So I’m Christian, Catholic by choice, but that’s another long narrative, and I will spare you the convolutions of the journey. Now to be honest I have not attended Mass for a long while which is yet another long narrative involves personal details I do not wish to go into, but do not involve much to do with the policies and attitudes of The Church itself. Anyway in trying to come to terms with not attending Mass it is my practice to go through the ‘Order of the Mass’ most days of the week, read passages from the bible known as ‘The Mass Readings’, offer up prayers while trying to keep my thoughts level on this most solemn of subjects- no easy task; be honest we all know how minds can wander.
December being of course a month filled with religious themes and symbolism there will be for the believer / follower a number of publications dealing with various aspects of the season, and in trying to balance non-attendance I purchased a couple to read either before, during or after the Order of Mass, as I felt necessary.
(By the way. Are you with me so far? I’ll be getting to the point of the post shortly, just felt some background was necessary) .

Yesterday, the fourth day of Christmas tide is known as The Feast of The Holy Innocents, based on Matthew’s Gospel (2:16-18) which states that Herod The Great on finding out the The Three Wise Men had not complied with his wishes to tell him where the Holy Child was had all male children under two years of age killed, apparently to make sure no one would usurp him. Naturally like all biblical events this is been a subject of debate as to whether it actually happened, historically. For further details here’s the Wiki link to give you a rough idea of the debate:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Massacre_of_the_Innocents#:~:text=Modern%20scholarship%20finds%20no%20evidence,is%20congruous%20with%20Herod’s%20character.&text=The%20Feast%20of%20the%20Holy,the%20fourth%20day%20of%20Christmastide.  
Well as I was reading one of the aforementioned publications, on this occasion before The Order of The Mass I found the writer was likening this event (Yes I believe it was likely, history is full of mass-killing horrors) this event to the practice of Abortion.
At once I slammed on my reading brakes and sounded off an allegorical horn. ‘What!‘ and ‘Oh no. Oh no. Oh no-no-no’ were my comments. Relieved my auto-restraint actually work for once and no bad words were used, I ditched the publication into the bin. It was no use the writer adding a little PS at the end to the effect…‘Oh yes and the victims of child abuse too- mentioning no names or institutions’  I was far from happy with that cheap shot. And not reckoning I should approach the Order of Mass in my then current frame of mind opted for an abbreviated version and a likewise prayer.  

Being Catholic I believe in the Nicene Creed
https://www.usccb.org/prayers/nicene-creed 

And also Transubstantiation
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transubstantiation 

What I do not hold to is a dogma which as far I can tell is not mentioned in the Gospels is that Abortion is a murder. Do any of these accusers think for one moment that a woman goes into that process with a casual air and comes out of it with no more than thought than she’d just had a new hair-style? Have they any idea of the trauma prior, during and after that a woman is likely to experience? Do they think for another moment that they are helping any cause they have to pro-life be falsely heaping the charge of murder onto a person already suffering. And these are folk who are supposed to adhere to Forgiveness? What part of Forgiveness does the accusation of Murderer involve? And while we are about it, since there is only one record of Immaculate Conception in the Christian system, why are we not bringing the other person…. The Man…. into the equation. Why does not he get hauled up before this quasi-ecumenical court? I mean he played a part didn’t he?
Just like the Woman found Committing Adultery (John 8:1-11). You don’t commit adultery by yourself. Where was the guy involved, was he going to be stoned? Actually that was an attempt to trap Jesus on theological grounds- the mob failed. And there’s Adam blaming ‘The Woman’ for him eating that Apple….What a whimp! Couldn’t take his responsibility, had to try and shift it.   (Sorry strayed off topic a bit there…hope you got the general theme of the asides)

Personally, I am conflicted about Abortion. In my own ideal world the woman would be supported to go full term, give birth to the baby and the child would be passed to a well vetted and genuine couple, and the natural mother would still be supported afterwards. The only exceptions would be those tragic twists of nature where the woman’s health is at risk, the child has no chance of survival or in the cases of rape or incest (after the man involved has been ‘neutered’ – well that’s the All-Age friendly term I use….Hey! I never said I was a model of Tolerance – That’s my burden). But that is a perfect world. We all have them don’t we?
For the world is not like that, is it? It is a place filled with tragedies, bitter choices, imperfect solutions and unhappy outcomes. Trying the vilify a victim, is not going to help anyway, anyhow, anywhere.  

Am I giving up my Faith?

No, actually, no. Imperfect as I am in my attendance at Mass, I will place my Faith in God (there I said it!). I will still stick to the core beliefs, and if anyone wants to take a different theistic path it is not my place to object, just adhere to Compassion, Respect and Tolerance and I am fine with you.

Do I hold to all of the ‘teachings’ of the Catholic Church….No, I don’t. There’s one higher authority, the one I defer to, and I believe we are letting that Authority down in so many ways.

OK, I’m done for today.  

Of Perceptions, Explanations and more than a few Accusations (On My Faith Part II)

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Faith

Foreword: In addition to being a continuation from Part I
There’s Nothing Simple Out There (One Christian’s Declarations Concerning Their Faith and the Subject of Evidence. Part I)
The two together are also an expansion on a post from past August, which some might say. ‘OK that’s all we need to know. Give it a rest already’. That is your choice:
Religion. Another Viewpoint (With Some Assistance From Quantum Mechanics & Cosmology)
The intention of the two parts together is to seek to go deeper, and wider.

This post moves from the questions Physical (both Scientific and Historical) and into the more intangible concepts of the basics of Faith, Belief both in the Religious/Theological  and also in the Social…. and also gives more space to a few polemics,

Therefore:
The Theological Perspective
The Social Perspective
Finally a Summary

In this I will mostly restrict my commentary to the Christian Faith. If I do refer to other Faiths, brevity will be utilised and sweeping generalisations avoided in areas which require a more detailed knowledge.

Theology / Religiosity / Faith. All from Within

 Retrospect

In Part I I contended that when set against the backdrop of the Scientific Perspective with all the unexplored areas, by the same perspective there was therefore no reason to say a person cannot hold to a belief in a Deity. The non-existence of a Deity cannot be physically proven.

Folk will of course put forth their own arguments for that non-existence but will always come up against the problem that they cannot offer physical proof to support their case. And likewise neither can I point to the place where God is, as one would say a mountain. It all comes down to Belief, or which has equal importance Doubt. Some might argue that in a world which shows so many tragedies and harm upon the Innocent, Doubt is the most honest approach of the Three stances. And others would contend that in my last post I inadvertently produced a case for Agnosticism.

We seek out ways to perceive the Vastness in Space, Time and Reason. A journey we may never complete. Let that be so. However such knowledge should never stop us doing so.

On Some Assertions Concerning Religions / Faiths Etc.

Before proceeding I need to address two commonly made statements which appear to attribute to Theisms certain properties:

Religion Is The Cause of War

And so is Economics, so is Politics, so are Resources, so are Cultural Differences, so is The Desire for Independence, so is the Willingness to Be Led, and so is, so is, so is.
Claiming one cause is an unconscious attempt to let ourselves, that is Humanity off of the hook, the flaw in our natures in which we embrace War and its lesser relative Conflict.
Once more for Brevity’s sake, and using European thinking, of which they may like it or not Russia and the USA have embraced; yes there have been wars in which religion was a foundation. Looking at the European side of history.
Crusades (quickly to turning into a land grab, as well as alliances with Muslim states and wars with other ‘Christian’ states)
The French 16th Century Wars of Religion (nobles changes sides and beliefs like socks- And Henry of Navarre Huguenot / Protestant turned Catholic – ‘Paris is Worth A Mass’)
30 Years War. One of the more obvious ones. (Except for the fact that Catholic France was in conflict with Catholic Spain and supporting Protestant Sweden)

So whereas it can be argued religion started the ones mentioned above, politics soon became involved and in various forms eased into the driving seat.
There is a line of arguments within professional Historians circles that the term is actually a Western perspective, and is just one facet of a myriad causes.
Basically Humanity is the cause of War, to assume if there were no religions there would be no wars is to assume something very peculiar about the conflicts between 1900 and 1950, to cite glaring example.

Religion Is The Opium of The People  

There may have been a time somewhere between The Enlightenment and The Birth of Socialism / Communism that arose the argument for religion being something that the ‘Ruling Classes’ use to keep the population in line and to feel that all would be well if they believed.

Firstly as it will be seen from the experiences under authoritarian and atheistic regimes which entered the lexicon in the 20th Century, Religion was replaced by Party Doctrine as the ‘Opium’. Once more it can be pointed out that Humanity is very inventive in producing its ‘Opiums’. In Post WWII, in the West, Europe in particular religious observance went into a decline whereas materialism and consumerism went upwards ever upwards. In latter years the worship of Celebrity has become a factor, with a new schism of Influencer each bringing forth their adherents and of course nasty disputes between the various ‘belief’ systems.

Another facet of the argument that religion kept the population in check tends to fall apart when matters are exanimated under the microscope of History. Over the centuries there have been a constant list of uprising from the ground level, often targeting the established religious set-up. Far from keeping folk in check once the system is seen to be with its abuses ‘rebellion’ be it in another form of religion or in a secular approach will arise. Reformation. Rise of Communism; just two.

Be honest folks. The problem is People. Always People. It is no use blaming one system or another, WE are the ones who run them.

Religion In General. And Faith. Which Can Be Quite Separate 

OK, having tried to get Religion off the hook and shift the blame where it belongs onto People, and with that theme in mind, let us consider that issue.

World Population 8 billion
Christianity 2.4 billion
Islam 1.9 billion
Hinduism 1.2 billion
Buddhism 520 million (0.52 billion)
Judaism 15.2 million (0.152 billion )
Also some estimated other religions 10,000 (mostly local) – exact numbers not available.

We could spend a great deal of time and effort  separating those figures by differing approaches, gender, age groups, geographical locations and cultural implications. This would still leave us with a large portion of the population of the planet having a theistic belief. There one question which itself sub-divides and that is.

How much Faith is there in The Religion? When I use the term Faith I am referring not to a confidence in the beliefs I am asking of dedication to those core beliefs which transcend the Social Norms, The Customs, The Ethnicity, and The Political aspects ever present in Life and which also have an influence upon us. Religion contains a dual purpose: To Explain and to Codify behaviour. At the very root, foundation, call it what you will lies essentially a path to embrace community and seek out that ever evasive Better Way.

Now it would be naïve of me to write the above words without knowing full well that there will be a substantial number of folk who would at least shake their heads in disagreement, and possibly howl in outrage, when ‘everyone’ can cite numerous instances or bits of religious works which argue the opposite. And yet imagine if the majority of those believing in a deity took to violence. The world is tragic enough with minorities using religion as their excuse taking up arms. Of course that does attract news commentary, which is only natural. Yet there are folk of Faith, quietly working away to try to make Life Better. Relying on their Faith

I will offer you this, based on my Faith, and on reflection as to the numbers of people with a religious based Faith. I believe that there is room enough for all Faiths. I believe it matters not to me whether a person’s religiously bound Faith is different to mine. If they hold to Compassion, Respect and Tolerance as part of their Faith that is fine. The rest is just not important. We choose different paths, which evolved from myriad reasons. As long as we meet on those three principals. What does it matter? And how does that square you ask? Are there lots of gods then? Well I would say no, just many ways to receive a message.

Yes, I would get into a bit of trouble with the hierarchy. Being Christian and Catholic I am quite aware that ‘The Church’ does not like the concept of Relativism. Yeah, well I square that with God at some stage. That’s where the final say on the matter will be. Though I’m still working out my own personal theological notions. Kind of Quantum? Yes?

The Impact and Reaction to Religion in Society. (Inside Looking Out)

There is a lot that annoys me and saddens me about the divides which are going on. In this case I’m sticking back with Christianity as this is my home turf as it were’. That said I am not allowing this come between me and my good atheistic friends here on WP.

Firstly, I repeat have no time for these quasi-fundamentalists who are only using religion as a convenience to fit their prejudices, their privileges, their hypocrisies, hates, fears and hysterias.

Secondly I would make a general appeal to a section of the atheist Community.
Will you please stop packaging all of us with that aforementioned group. You don’t do that with races, do you? And it does not occur to some that the remarks they make are downright offensive to us as well? I am sure these are mostly directed at the quasi-fundamentalists? But stop to think for a moment? Are you not profiling us all? Mock the hypocrites sure. But lay off basic beliefs will you? Just ask questions. Don’t make accusations or offensive remarks, or mock. That hurts. And by the way says more about you that it does about a moderate believer. Some of the throw away lines I have encountered are mere mirror images of the MAGA style self-identifying ‘believers’ ‘Religious BS’ is a common one? Seriously? Has the accuser ever spoken to a Christian who also embraces scientific teaching, the whole of Cosmology (well as much as we know)?
Sadly this is another fracture line. Society is filled with them.

Currently there seems to be three types of religion. There’s the uncomplicated Faith based one which is down to personal choice. There’s the Community one, in which folk of similar beliefs meet up and share. Those two overlap. And there is, as is usual in Human History the one which is used for Political Purposes and is soaked in Hypocrisy and Self-Service.
The latter has it’s partner in crime in Politics itself, where the political beliefs are twisted through the same processes of suiting the purposes of a party or grouping. Places where Sincerity is a variable commodity. Truth is that which is convenient to the group. And only the Opposition is guilty of Hypocrisy.

Therefore I have to say, all those charges which are placed at the doors of Religion will be equally fitted into Politics, Social Movements, Social Interactions and so on. In short Humanity is Guilty as Charged.

Summary

So, where do we draw the line between types of Belief? A person has a secular belief, be it, say, Social, Scientific  or Political. They hold to that belief. They hold to it strongly. They will demonstrate an opinion which others strongly object to, some will say their belief is illusory, and a threat. In the broad scheme, where is the difference therefore between faith in The Religious or The Secular. In the scheme of Human dynamics is there a difference? People hold fast to something.

Think on this one.
Many will say they hold true to Democracy. A laudable ideal.
However….In the disaster that was WWII Two Democracies (well for White folk that is) with colonial mentalities signed up with a violent totalitarian system to defeat two other like-minded totalitarian systems and in doing so allowed their ally to reap unjust rewards and while doing so caused the deaths of millions of civilians. Both those democracies along with other democracies also subjugated and caused large numbers of deaths amongst the populations of nations within their ‘spheres’ of influence. One Democracy had built into laws racial discrimination. Recently through its arcane flummery the same democracy allowed the minority vote holder into its position of president. A fellow of questionable qualities, opening the doors to new waves of  Intolerance.

Do just these few examples mean that you hold Democracy to be something to be held as false and even to be despised?

You would prefer one of the other systems? Seriously?

If you set out to target Religion in general along ethical grounds then you had better be ready to target that which you hold close too. Are you ready to condemn it as false?

Finally. This I will assert, repeat to be precise.

You do not criticise a person for having a religious belief without endangering yourself of profiling and with it having a limited perspective. If a person believes in the equality of others irrespective of race, belief and gender; if that person cares about the state of the environment; if that person holds that scientific knowledge to date is to be respected, even celebrated; if that person sees flaws in all systems and ‘We’ could and must do better, while having a belief in a Deity; then why is the latter a ‘mark’ against them? Careful how you answer that; your answer may say more about you than you care to admit.

If you are unqualified targeting Religion as a concept, you are looking in the wrong place. Look around you. Look inwards too. Theists have to do that, everyday, if they do have Faith, that is.

Well, It Seemed Perfect #Blog Battle : April – Messy

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Messy

King Prendertugh was a person of thorough approach strengthened by a gift of ‘The Long View’, (in political terms that is. Not as with his worthless brother Frenderbugh who yearned to be able to see maidens bathing).  Prendertugh had discerned long ago that his kingdom of Freyback would have to go to war with neighbouring Kcabyerf over the lordship of Vendregan, whose family The Burdeph knew they had little say in the matter and thus lived up in the Olps; the tallest mountain range in their realm.
It was a recognised fact that a successful campaign would rely not just on weaponry and killing people, but to have a most intricate set of code; for it was another recognised fact that King Dehigget of Kcabyerf, a most wary fellow had nurtured a body of highly skilled code-breakers.

Prendertugh however had invested six years in having exceptionally gifted and intelligent folk devising the series of codes to be used by his army, spies, and disruptors . The code was based on a now unused language spoken by folk from who had dwelt in what had once been fens, but had been long ago drained, so had the folk. The process took three years, another two years were spent training code couriers who could write and translate the messages and one explaining to all receiving the messages that theirs was but part of an overall plan which would come together and all would be well.

In the initial and carefully stages invasion of Vendregan and the disruption of bordering areas of Kcabyerf went well. Dehigget’s forces were confused, surprised and required to retreat; aside from being out-manoeuvred there were problems with their supplies, horses were cut loose from stabling, and river shipping developed holes and sank and people were mumbling dissatisfaction, although no one knew how or where the mumbling began.

Into the twentieth day, the time came for those always necessary adjustments; revised coded orders were despatched. Grand Duke Hurstew on the left and High Lord Fiztmarice on the right acted accordingly. Grand Earl Hangus in the centre and overall command moved forward, then wondered just where Hurstew and Fiztmarice had got to. He being a man of solid judgement halted until matters were sorted out. King Prendertugh being party to the big picture and having heard from his spies Kcabyerfish forces were in disarray had based the new orders on those reports. He now wanted to know why Hurstew was marching north away from the advance, Fiztmarice was sitting down doing nothing, and Hangus marching forward without support.

A number of bold riders had ridden hard and fast this way and that to the said generals, then had ridden boldly hard and fast back, it seemed there had been some confusion in the orders, but no one could discern where the errors had taken place. Fresh coded orders were issued.

Hangus promptly marched north; Hurstew reversed his march and went south, while Fiztmarice proceeded in oblique order to the south-east, then north-west.  Dehigget  meanwhile having been told the codes out of Freyback could not be broken decided that ‘They were up to something’ and his generals agreed. His armies were collected and reorganised then sent on counter-marches to shadow the foe. For those of a more humanist point of view there was the benefit of no one really fighting and thus getting killed. For those who lived in the area there was the wretched experience of armies marching back and forth across your land, wrecking your hard worked for crops and not paying for anything they appropriated; the same thing happened if the armies stood still. It was a miserable time for the Vendreganish and a great deal of sourness was directed at the The Burdeph secure in their mountain fastness of The Olps.

Meanwhile Prendertugh was vexed and puzzled about the failure of his forces to coordinate. Had not the orders been clear? Had they not been efficiently transcribed into code by highly trained men? Being a king, he naturally fell to suspicion and introspection.

Even more meanwhile his fellow king Dehigget indulged likewise. His being focused on why his personnel could not tell him what cunning plans Prendertugh’s generals were up to. And due to the mumbling he suspected a plot against him.

Both men demanded answers, gruffly and loudly. Naturally blame and accusation was parcelled out amongst most in the two courts and high offices. Generals sharing with their troops the sludging due to a sudden very unseasonable wetness of weather received with very ill-temper indeed the uncoded and hastily drafted letters inferring they were deliberately avoiding battle. Both kings therefore received tersely uncoded response that IF their majesty REQUIRED, then they (whoever sent it) would resign their position.

Thus frantic orders from King Prendertugh’s court  with lesser attention to codes were sent in every direction. Generals finding some of the commentaries were less than succinct in their clarity, ignored them and put junior officers to pray to the ancient god Varius Xcusis and then send replies saying they couldn’t comply with those orders. Dehigget went in for replacing generals with old rivals of theirs, some duels were fought. There was a purge of code breakers too.

More eventous Meanwhiles were taking place in the covert ranks of the Freybackian spies and the disruptors. The former being consummate professional paranoiacs suspected the code had been breeched, burnt all their documents and went into hiding to reinvent their identities. The latter were by nature unconventional and free thinking and centrally co-ordinated within Dehigget’s realm. Mayrus Hekth the leader, had received the following message, which when decoded read:

Buy up all the cheeses. Take care, for I yearn for your underwear

He consulted his two code couriers who concluded as one.
‘Something has gone wrong with the codes. Toldja they were too complex’

Hekth being an inventive fellow at once used the message as a basis for inspiration to add to the acts his teams had been up to. In this case he told all operatives to disguise themselves an officials of Nobility and with much arrogance buy up all the cheeses citing the nobility’s desire was more important than that of the peasants, others were set the task of writing on walls and gates ‘King Dehigget yearns for your daughters’ underwear’ . Whereas the latter initially caused much puzzlement and bemusement, the former did have the desired effect of civic discord, and confusion in the ranks of the nobility as vast numbers of cheeses turned up at their abodes, followed by greater numbers of peasants and folk who needed cheese for their own businesses, all inflamed by Hekth’s agents. Dehigget was somewhat distracted by incoming quantities of female underwear sent by the more obsequious and opportunistic of his subjects, whose daughters were not pleased. Neither was Dehigget’s wife. Hekth not one to rest of his successes then spread the rumour that eating excesses of cheese caused heads to fall off. Some of the nobility were found with heads detached, it did not take much examination to reveal decapitation was probably the cause, but the underlying tone of the message  got through and many cheeses were seen rolling out of castles, an act which did nothing to improve the flavours much less the image or the lower classes attitude to the nobility.

Under other circumstances Prendertugh might have taken advantage, had he not by a combination of confusion over the codes and sullenness on the behalf his generals   effectively lost his armies in Vendregan. For someone usually of thorough approach strengthened by a gift of ‘The Long View’, it was indeed a curious state of affairs.

With both kingdoms in a state of administrative and strategic immobility while suffering from wet muddy weather and a severe outbreak of Meanwhiles, adding to the situation was an unforeseen At This Juncture. These of course having much potential to make a troublesome situation worse.

In this case The Juncture revolved around  Rayleot the scion of The Burdephs of Vendregan. A year earlier he had been despatched south to locate and court a suitable bride whose noble family would give The Burdephs some leverage in keeping Freyback and Kcabyerf off of their backs. Rayleot was not long in discerning that most of the young women suitable to his rank were already involved in complex marriage arrangements. Instead he set his sights on the naturally financially orientated mercantile classes. Mindful of the geography of his homeland his attention fell upon Trevella the elder daughter of the Bungdover family whose river transport enterprises had blossomed. For them someone whose family owned land through which the great and wide River Flume, had its origins was quite the catch. Trevella saw no problem with Rayleot, and as was the custom thereabouts the marriage was conducted promptly upon a river, Rayleot signing all sort of treaties and agreement which he reckoned were a better option than having two armies tramping upon Vendregan. As a wedding present he was gifted a replica of the legendary Large Barge Marge, the original and foundation of the Bungdover family now being retired and sanctified. There were certain enhancements in keeping with those times, such as secret independent power source of propulsion and several small but effective pieces of ordinance.

The happy couple’s appearance not only caused surprise but also distress to craft of both Freyback and Kcabyerf  which were gently disabled either by blasting off masts or rudders, and pushed by the now named Rarge onto banks, thus displaying the astute mercantile strategy of not blocking rivers. Taking advantage of all local intelligence and armed with large bags of gold supplied by his in-laws Rayleot contacted the most disgruntled officers of both sides and offered them employment in the new Vendregan army whose initial duties involved simply changing sides and taking directions to higher drier ground.

Hekth and Freyback spies met and sent a message unto their king, uncoded in basic Freybackian of the lower classes:

‘You’re kippered Guv’nor, It’s all gone in stable buckets. The Burdephs have got a sharp one who is quick about coin. Suggest a bit of the old selective Horse and Carriage,’  

Kings could be expectant of rebellions but Prendertugh was beset by tremendous sulks amongst his lords, generals and senior staff. He was somewhat overwhelmed by the ludicrousness of mature men imitating the actions of adolescent told to clean their rooms, he took the curiously phrased advice. Back to the Meanwhile he mused…What the Holy Frib had gone wrong?

The aforementioned cabal also reached out to those opposite numbers in Kcabyerf by devious means to indicate they contact their king in similar fashion, if he wanted to keep his cheese (code for throne) and sell off the underwear that is. The opposite numbers did so. Dehigget beset of domestic trials and tribulations agreed.

Within the year, and drier spell all had settled down both kings having to lay out large amounts of gold to soothe the temperaments of upsets generals, though later  this was somewhat recompensed by trade choregraphed by the Bungdover mercantile cartels.

Since no one could figure out how the errors had arisen the codes were scrapped. The strategy of ‘Let’s say no more about it’ being adopted. Prendertugh turned his attentions to his gardens and extoling the virtues of The Simple Life

Dehigget worn down by cries of ‘How’s your cheeses?’ and the more independent commoner maidens waving very functional woollen undergarments at him calling ‘Does this meet with your approval Your ‘Ighness?’  became a recluse and responded to any enquiry by his ministers with ‘Whatever,’

Eventually both kingdoms swore fealty to Vendregan under the rule of King Rayleot (The Calm)

Historical Footnote:

Some centuries ago….

It was mournful time as The Folk of The Fens were obliged to quit their lands, now being heartlessly dried up by greedy folk with big armies. The elders had embarked on writing down an account of their folk and these events to be kept in all time, for the day when their folk would arise once more and learn of their ancestors.

Those elders versed in the Ethereal built in one sting for the future. At the beginning of the tract was inscribed in subtle runes masking as letters. ‘Woe and Confusion upon those who pillage our language as they have pillaged our lands’ 

These Days The World War Comes In Many Sizes.

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Crocus City Hall

Crocus City Hall, Moscow 22nd March 2024 .It was 14, then 30, then 60 then 93. Dead. Injured? It was many, then a 100. How many escaped? Not known, but they will carry scars. Maybe they will be fearful of being in a crowd, never to go to any event again, fearing they may hear screams and gun shots. Will they ever sleep naturally again. Then multiply by numbers by relatives, friends, associates.

They were going to a concert. To have a good time. Enjoy themselves. Forget the troubles of the World. Maybe ease the pain of the loss of someone sent to Ukraine. Parallels to many Israelis back in October 2023. They were going about their ordinary lives. Just like Americans who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time in 83 mass shootings in 2024 (Up until February that is).

They weren’t in combat. They not were fitted out for fighting. They weren’t even living in dread. Not like folk in Port au Prince. Folk in Gaza. Folk in the Sudan. Folk across the Sahel (look on a map for yourself). In Congo. In Nigeria. In Pakistan. In India. In Philippines. In Malyaia. In Myanmar. In Mexico. In Ukraine. In Yemen. And that list goes on and on and on. World War. Not neat. Not one side vs another. That’s out-dated, washed away amongst the mudslide of agendas and causes, and the debris of alliances; mostly based on Hypocrisy. 

Somewhere there is at least one record tallying up the estimates of non-combatants being killed. And someone will be parsing those numbers up into those unfortunately killed in cross-fires. those who were living near strategic targets, those slaughtered in some frenzy of hate and those who starve or sicken untreated because of a lack of resources. As if there is some comfort in pointing out that portions of those deaths were ‘unfortunate’. Like the police chief in To Have and Have Not says laconically about the death of the American tourist caught in cross-fire ‘It is unfortunate’ .But it’s war. What can you do?… Don’t start one? Or is that just a painfully innocent a suggestion.

Nothing worthwhile is easy to solve.

Crocus City Hall, Moscow 22nd March 2024. Dead, dying, injured, traumatised  by being there, traumatised by association. Multiply that by the number of wars, rebellions, militias, gangs, mercenaries, authoritarian states, hate-groups. Some calculation. Like one of those massive boards that physicists and mathematicians have to use.  

There will be the usual dash to social media to pump out the agenda. Blame this group. Blame that nation. ‘I hate…. I’m gonna blame them’….. ‘Yeah me too’. The keyboards must have been hammered over the last 12 hours.

And there will be those who will justify, or glorify those who walked into Crocus City Hall on Moscow 22nd March 2024 and killed ‘in the name of’. Like the killing of non-combatant folk of a nation is going to make any state think ‘Oh gosh. We were wrong. Sorry,’ Russia, Israel, USA, China. Four classic examples of what happens when you tread on their toes, their majorities. No, they default to ‘Someone has to pay,’ Like any group, any region, any nation with a grudge or agenda really, deep down, worries about the loss of non-combatant life. Like any of those listens to any protest across the world.

Crocus City Hall, Moscow 22nd March 2024. It’s 115 dead now. Four suspects held. Flowers being left at the site, people donating blood. It’s what ordinary folk do. Do something. Meanwhile as expected both the Ukrainian and Russian governments or security services make claim, counter claim and ridiculous assertions abut the other side. At least the ordinary folk are doing something constructive.

World War. As in a world beset by wars in all shapes and sizes, many so deep, convoluted and old that the original reasons were lost somewhere and there’s only The War. You could claim Political Expediency, Culture, Religion, Poverty, Corruption, Old Enmities, New Ones, Suspicion, Communal Hysteria; take your pick; add another, there’s no shortage.

But what to do? No use saying ‘It’s Not my Problem’. USA.Back in the 1990s what was going in The Middle East, Saudi Arabia, ‘The Gulf’ Lebanon was not ‘Your Problem’. Sure the government sent armies and folk got killed, which was a shame. But nothing to do with you. Then came 9/11- direct Cause and Effect and the USA went into several sorts of hysteria which is still plaguing you today. 

And why do European nations and the USA wonder why folk from other nations are flooding into their lands. War. Famine through War. Why else should folk be so desperate? 

In these days of hyper-travel, hyper-trade and hyper-communication what happens somewhere will eventually find its way in some way to your door, even if it is but an increase the cost of your favourite…..

Crocus City Hall, Moscow 22nd March 2024. It’s our problem. It’s our tragedy. It’s our concern. And that nagging one, deep down inside. The one place where you get into the tangle of Cause & Effect, of Apathy and its distant cousin Selective Outrage, of Disassociation, of Assumptions Without Thought, and the rest. The one where we have to ask ‘Was That Something To Do With Me?’ Hopefully not. Hopefully you started out as innocent bystander who tried to do something constructive, even in a small, small, hardly noticed way, a ripple. Me? Involved in a war? You’d be surprised how far the reach is. 

Still, bear this in mind. It takes a lot of folk a long time to make a World War. And there are never simple answers.

One thing though. Those who beat the drums loud, and long. Folk who give you one liners as solutions. People who claim that killing their neighbours is the only solution. Mobs that blame an entire people for the crimes of a government. Ones who claim they have a direct line to a deity who says its OK to kill. 

They are liars, wretched creatures. And irrespective of the differences in their politics, religions, races and locations, they are all the same. Hate mongers. Blights. Bloodied hands by deed or association.  

Crocus City Hall, Moscow 22nd March 2024. Take some time out today to think of the victims. 

It’s a regular event in some parts of the world.

Just So Long As It Works #Blog Battle : March – Perfect

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Thinking on Perfection

          King Horris of Melenbach had sired four sons Morris, Borris, Norris and Dorris, in that order. On hearing the allotted name of her youngest son Queen Calphenia took holy orders in the remotest Sanctuarium possible. It was a perfect way out.

          Morris considered perfection in one art was essential to an heir, his being Song. He climbed to the top of the Great Mount Grandpon which was the natural border with the kingdom of Peylanebach and from there planned to sing loudly songs and impress Princess Wendalyn, daughter of King Handsell of Peylanebach.  His rationale not perfect. Nor his balance. On leaning back, taking his first deep breath, fell off. But yodelled on the way down. A reasonably perfect end.

          Borris being oafish thought he could raid Peylanebach, carry off Wendalyn, and force her into marriage, thus assure his right to both kingdoms. On the second day of his incursion an arrow pierced his heart. Many, including his father felt there was a perfection to this demise. Handsell who had nephews similar in temperament to Borris, understood. No more was said on the subject.

          Dorris had a dour outlook on life, albeit with a certain plausible perspective. Not waiting for full manhood, he donned false facial hair of perfect design, practiced a gruff voice to perfection, styled him Burt Bungdover and took employment on the large barge Marge, eventually to rise to the rank of Master Bargesman. And would work hard eventually owning ten barges. None disagreed for him it was a perfect life.

          Norris was a quiet fellow but knowing full well the nature of his brothers Morris and Borris had prepared for the worst while hoping for the best. When The King unexpectedly succumbed to a boating accident during a perfect storm on Lake Frosbee, Norris accepted things.

          Thus, with careful disposition and foresight took his place upon the carved to perfectly carved Oak Throne of Precision.

          Amongst the many issues Norris faced one was what to do with the estates belonging to his parents and brothers, The matter, as was normal for the times was held in Chancery At His Majesty Completion. This was a perfectly reasonable option when a king was very busy or getting used to the job but could not go on too long for no one of any class in the realm liked a king having too much land of his own. He had a kingdom for Frib’s sake. Norris was quite aware of this, particularly as the whole came to about one-eighth of the size of the entire kingdom, a small nation if lumped together. The matter had to be attended to.

          Norris was obliged to refer to The College of Purpose whose members were selected from Bishops of the Church, Philosophers of the Universities, Judges of the Judiciary and High Clerkes of the Administration. Appointees renowned for individual tendencies to pedantry. They gathered at irregular intervals to muse on matters no one else cared about. This change delighted them. They would have to consult books of lore both secular, religious and of pre-sidence, and maps.

          The business would take some time.

          This gave Norris the opportunity for a perfectly respectable courtship for the hand of the Princess Wendalyn. She was not renowned as a beauty but possessed perfect disposition and intelligence. And she rather liked him.  Everything went perfectly and they were married.

          In Peylanebach Duke Urbit, cousin once removed yet not far enough took offense as he felt perfectly entitled to marry her. He raised a smallish rebellion with those nephews Turbit and Shurbit. Norris was given permission by his father to help out his father-in-law. The rebels were apprehended and slaughtered, justly.

          Although Norris had expected The College to take some time, in the three years which had elapsed between the marriage negotiations and ceremonies promptly followed by the rebellion, he had expected some initial findings. There were none pending. His trusted most experienced lord Duke Ferrex was not surprised. Norris ordered the College to assemble.

          When the representatives of each office appeared there seemed to be between the individual disciplines quarrelsomeness, exchanges of ill-tempered looks and undignified attempts to nudge each other aside.

          Three robust bishops were in the lead.
          ‘Your highness,’ intoned one as his colleagues made a credible blocking defence to the three Clerkes challenging as a wedge.
          ‘Good News,’ he continued ‘We have discerned after examination the total square mileage of the land is eight thousand, one hundred and twenty-eight, and that is a perfect number, being one which is the equal of the sum of its positive divisors,’
          ‘Thus hath the Good Lord God spoken, and indicated the lands should be administered by the Church,’ added another even though he was sorely pressed by a Clerke wielding an atlas.
          ‘The number your Highness ,’ objected the Clerke whose slight built was useful as he skipped aside of a  bishop ‘Is quite deceptive, being reached by NOT taking into account the vertical acreage of the mountains and hills. Some locations have substantive populations whose basis of worship while not heretical does not conform with church doctrines. Thus, would not take well to ecclesiastical rule,’
          ‘There is no precedence for recourse to numbers,’ wheezed an ancient judge ‘Unless there had been due process of affirmation as to their validity,’
          Two other judges nodded. Everyone else ignored them. 
          Norris tutted. This would be a poor impression unto his queen.
          The philosophers had constructed a triangle of tables, the most agile of the trio stood above the assemblage and hailed Norris.
          ‘Your Highness these mathematical objects are defined by their places in such structures, consequently having no intrinsic properties and cannot be seen as supportive of a theological claim on land,’
          One bishop sterner stuff and treading on the toes of his nearest clerkish opponent swung to address the elevated philosopher.
          ‘You ignore the precepts of Mathematical Realism which indicate numbers are not of human minds, and therefore must have a divine origin,’
          The Clerke whose toes had been trampled up looked up sullenly while massaging his foot.
          ‘Yet neither of your groups has come up with a workable system by which the lands may be made integral with adjacent secular parts of the kingdom. Or if it comes to it,’ he cast a glance to the still elevated philosopher ‘Just on what alternative basis the division can take place, particularly as at least one of your party has suggested there are no true divisions,’ he huffed ‘Might as well talk about The Ethereal,’
          ‘Hush!’ cried a bishop in alarm ‘Lest we bring forth evil forces,’   
          ‘We should,’ meandered one of the judges ‘Refer to the Assizes at Jublebester in 726 over the case Duke Quynlabable’s sheep’s grazing rights,’
          There was no enthusiasm for such. The Judges sulked.
          Not fooled by the theatrical stumble of a Clerke into the philosophers’ tables sending their nominee tumbling, Norris glanced to his Captain of his Guard who gladly thumped the floor with the butt of his staff and demand order.
          Norris looked upon the representatives of The College with resignation.
          ‘No agreement has been reached then?’
          Feet shuffled and the pattern of the flooring studied.
          ‘You never previously gathered together?’ he asked.
          His Chancellor of The Palace whispered.
          ‘Each discipline kept to separate chambers and those were noisy enough,’
          ‘Perfect,’ Norris said with derision heavy enough to match his ceremonial armour, and dismissed the lot before he was tempted to emulate one great-grandfather who had been king and wont to solve intractable problems with a favoured axe named Prefect Solution.   

          ‘My husband. My lord. My king. I ask you will all modest civility unto your most noble self. Put that fribbin’ book away before this furry slipper impacts with accuracy upon your nogging,’
          During a courtship a prince or king might have concerns if their seemingly demure, lady of retiring appearance would navigate a queen’s household of older more experienced women. Norris had been quick to realise that beneath the veneer was a wry, combative facet to Wendalyn ‘s character of intelligence and a deft selective irresistible coarse wit.
          ‘But my sweet wife,’ he tried not to sound wheedling ‘The question of the division of those estates is vexing me. Did you know eight thousand, one hundred and twenty-eight is indeed by a definition of mathematics a perfect number?’
          Un-lady like vocal exclamation of derision.
          ‘And’ she began in recitation manner ‘Perfection can be. That which is complete of required parts. OR. Is so good nothing of any kind could be better. OR that with hath attained it’s poi-puss,’
          ‘Anyway,’ she continued her drawl in a most common accent ‘You’ll not get any sense of them ol’ walnuts,’
          ‘You observed then from secret alcoves?’
          ‘Yes,’ tersely then her voice lowered now regally mocking tones ‘Discourses which are above the minds of women and thus are they forbidden(ed) to listen,’
          An anatomical vulgarity followed.
          Norris pursed his lips in thought, Wendalyn told him to desist, and the subsequent is none of our business.

          Warmly Queen Wendalyn awoke, her lord of course was about business.

          And she her own.

          She met with the wife of one of Norris’ most trusted lords, Duke Ferrex, a journal bound in red leather passed between her and Duchess Ferrex.

          Three days on King Norris bade the entire College gather. Their continued truculence muted.
          ‘Learned sirs, any compromise?’
          There were mumblings which he translated as their pleas to the traditional spirit Varyous Xkusis.
          ‘I see,’ he said with an obvious glance to his Captain of the Guard ‘Therefore we shall take this number of eight thousand, one hundred and twenty-eight square miles which is some five million, two hundred plus acres and grant one to each person in our realm,’
          There were gasps, he continued.
          ‘Folk will sell unto other folk and combines will be formed, all will be done through the Judiciary and Administration,’ he glowered ‘Who will co-operate to the benefit of the realm,’
          He settled back on the perfectly carved Oak Throne of Precision and waited out the hub-bub.
          ‘Learned Sirs. It will attain Purpose,’

          Despite reluctant murmurs his will would be done, for someone else was now watching from the gallery

                   ‘I am so pleased,’ said Queen Wendalyn

          There were anxious collegiate glances from King to Queen and back again. Then the assembly exited. 

          Swiftly. Very muted whispers to some one word might have been discerned.

          ‘Journal’

          ‘The College was most willing to please,’ Wendalyn said over dinner.
          ‘Your presence was a help my love,’ he raised a wine glass in a toast.
          A knowing pause between them.
          ‘Ten days’ time is the commemoration of the memorial to Morris,’ ventured Norris.
          ‘A poetic sort of accident. By chance I was nearby. It was a lovely yodel. And yet I heard no one mentioned that at his funeral. What a shame,’

          ‘Father did not consider it a suitable memory for a funeral,’

          Another pause. Norris spoke with a sigh.

          ‘We shall have to do something for Borris, lesser of course. Mounted. He was shot straight through the heart. No archer was visible,’

          ‘It could have been worse. He could have been standing and struck lower,’

          ‘Did you know? That was a common opinion held at his funeral,’

          Another pause. Wendalyn spoke.

          ‘Father in a recent letter, asked to me to repeat his thanks with that disruption. He maintains a hunt is a good bonding for a man with his son in law,’

          ‘We benefitted from the most excellent intelligence,’

          ‘Hmmm,’

          Pause.

          ‘Duke Ferrex speaks highly of you my dear. I am glad you are making good associations at court,’

          ‘His wife is nice too,’

          Sixty days later came the most perfect news. The Queen was with child.

          The College of course sent its communal congratulations, then turned its attention to new designs for weathervanes.

          At the Ferrex household, the duchess speaking first

          ‘Such good news. And such a perfectly sweet bright girl too,’

          ‘And he is perfectly suited to the role of king,’

          Each thought of the red journal

          ‘So perfectly complimented,’ she said

          ‘Such is Fate?’ he replied not expecting an answer, only to say ‘And she is noteworthy on the archery course,’

          ‘Also interested in business, she has advised the king to invest in a new barge venture in the Kingdom of Urdle,’

          ‘What a perfectly good idea,’

          Elsewhere Norris closed his own grey leather journal. A family history of many generations. Every so often, the right scion meeting the right girl at the right time.

          Perfect.

Songs For Our Times ?

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Foreword:

I should put this on my political site but since WP appears to have lost it for the present, or is in a sulk and won’t let me have access……

Anyway, as we all know it is a ‘thing’ for political parties when campaigning to poach a song without the writers and performers’ permission and by using a selective piece, mis-representing the message of the song to suit their purposes. The American Republican Party seemed to make a habit out of this.

Therefore I thought it best to redress the balance by posting up songs which actually represent their current messages.

To begin…..Because I wanted to introduce the subject in a more low-key manner, for those who do not think there is any need to worry. If you check you will see that there are quite a number of folk with extreme views encouraging Trump on. Now folk with extreme views are not content to just hold onto their views, they have an urge to spread them. OK, so you might not be in their initial sights but once they get their hooks in, you might know folk, who know folk who are suffering, and you might have friends and relations who get targeted, and you might feel very sad about that, and wish it would go away, but it won’t and there will be even more distressing news and one day they will come for you or the way you live and you will start to feel ‘Gloomy’

Gloomy

Some people laugh in the dark
Some people cry alone
Some people talk without sayin’ a thing
And ev’rything turns out gloomy

Some people count your money
Someone is countin’ your days
And somebody got to keep track of your mind
When ev’rything turns out gloomy

Brothers’ll make you look sideways
Fathers’ll make you look back
And when you’re done talkin’, you still got to shoot
‘Cause ev’rything turns out gloomy

Now another thing the forces pushing Trump on with and something which comes naturally to him is telling untruths. Big ones. Like there was nothing wrong with what happened in January 2021. Like everything accusation against him is Fake. 

Hitler pointed out that if you told a very Big Lie people would simply believe you because they could not cope with the fact that it was wrong. Conspiracy Junkies and MAGA embraced this concept (Qanon anyone?). The following song is ideal for the current mindset (in which more guns is also an good answer to all the problems)

It’s a good time for anyone  whose is a professional Liar, the Trump Campaign can use you. As for those of you of who are outraged and aghast at such affrontery to intelligence, if you have not already to responded do so….. because the cult of Trump is built on ‘Lies’ You Liar

Liar liar, pants on fire
See you squirm, see you perspire
Not a word you say is true
There’s never been one out of you

Smoke & mirrors, bait and switch
You and your friends are getting rich
Picking pockets, pulling strings
And other more despicable things

Liar Liar, pants on fire
Preaching only to the choir
Photo op in front of the steeple
How did you manage to fool these people?

Talk the lingo, dress the part
Even put your hand on your heart
Bomber jacket, emperor’s clothes
You can’t even reach the end of your nose

Liar liar, pants on fire
Chain of command doesn’t get any higher
Orders come down from the top
Punish the guy who pushes the mop

Throw away the key and forget about bail
The likes of you ought to rot in jail
Guilty! Guilty of the highest crimes
And the lowest ones at the very same time

Liar liar, pants on fire
Teleprompter, hidden wire
Who’s this G-d that speaks to you
Who would authorize the things you do?

Bend the rules, twist the facts
Make excuses, cover your tracks
Why won’t you let anybody see
The flag-draped coffins on tv?

Liar liar, been found out
Whistleblowers talked about
How you classify & cook the books
For the benefit of a bunch of crooks

Liar lair pants on fire (repeat)

Of course being the sorts they are they would try and steal this and turn it around for their rallies but remember….you heard it here folks!

Now if this has not yet stirred you, then you should consider the divisiveness that has gripped the USA since MAGA, Intolerant Evangelicals (as opposed to the more quiet reflective sorts) and The White Supremacists were allowed to be tolerated. This is not to be tolerated and to repeat do not think it will not come to you. Here is one ideally suited to The Trouble they cause. It was written in the wake of the 1965 Watts riots, and sadly as it does the wheel turns full circle.

Well, I’m about to get sickFrom watchin’ my TVBeen checkin’ out the news until my eyeballs fail to seeI mean to say that every day is just another rotten messAnd when it’s gonna change, my friends, is anybody’s guess
 
So I’m watchin’ and I’m waitin’Hopin’ for the bestEven think I’ll go to prayin’Every time I hear ’em sayin’That there’s no way to delay that trouble comin’ every dayNo way to delay that trouble comin’ every day
 
Wednesday I watched the riot, I seen the cops out on the streetWatched ’em throwin’ rocks and stuff and chokin’ in the heatListened to reports about the whisky passin’ ’roundSeen the smoke and fire and the market burnin’ downWatched while everybody on his street would take a turnTo stomp and smash and bash and crash and slash and bust and burn
 
And I’m watchin’ and I’m waitin’Hopin’ for the bestEven think I’ll go to prayin’Every time I hear ’em sayin’That there’s no way to delay that trouble comin’ every dayNo way to delay that trouble comin’ every day
 
Well, you can cool it you can heat it‘Cause, baby, I don’t need itTake your TV tube and eat itAnd all that phony stuff on sports and all the unconfirmed reportsYou know I watched that rotten box until my head began to hurtFrom checkin’ out the way the newsmen say they get the dirtBefore the guys on channel so-and-so, further they assertThat any show they’ll interruptTo bring you news if it comes upThey say that if the place blows upThey’ll be the first to tellBecause the boys they got downtown are workin’ hard and doin’ swellAnd if anybody gets the newsBefore it hits the street they say that no one blabs it fasterTheir coverage can’t be beatAnd if another woman driverGets machine-gunned from her seatThey’ll send some joker with a brownie and you’ll see it all complete
 
So I’m watchin’ and I’m waitin’Hopin’ for the bestEven think I’ll go to prayin’Every time I hear ’em sayin’That there’s no way to delay that trouble comin’ every dayNo way to delay that trouble comin’ every day
 
Hey, you know something people?I’m not black but there’s a whole lots a times I wish I could say I’m not white
 
Well, I seen the fires burnin’ and the local people turnin’On the merchants and the shops who used to sell their brooms and mopsAnd every other household itemWatched the mob just turn and bite ’emAnd they say it served ’em rightBecause a few of them are whiteAnd it’s the same across the nation, black and white discriminationYellin’ “you can’t understand me!”And all that other jazz they hand meIn the papers and TV and all that mass stupidityThat seems to grow more every dayEach time you hear some nitwit sayHe wants to go and do you in‘Cause the color of your skinJust don’t appeal to himNo matter if it’s black or white because he’s out for blood tonight
 
You know we gotta sit around at home and watch this thing beginBut I bet there won’t be many left to see it really end‘Cause the fire in the street ain’t like the fire in the heartAnd in the eyes of all these people don’t you know that this could start?On any street, in any town, in any state if any clownDecides that now’s the time to fightFor some ideal he thinks is rightAnd if a million more agree, there ain’t no great societyAs it applies to you and meOur country isn’t freeAnd the law refuse to see if all that you can ever beIs just a lousy janitorUnless your uncle owns a storeYou know that five in every fourJust won’t amount to nothin’ moreThan watchin’ rats go across the floorAnd make up songs about being poorBlow your harmonica, son!
 
And basically I feel sorry for the regular Old School Republicans those who hang on hoping or those who gave up and either went Independent or crossed the line. I have a smidge of sympathy and sorrow for those who with some concern and doubts are  still buying into Trump as being a choice one has to take…because they feel threatened as a result of the propaganda they have been given. 
As for the howlers, the threateners, those who disgrace the flag and spit on the constitution, I won’t bother, they have bought into The Nightmare.
 
For the rest; The Complacent, those who display irresponsibility by thinking Not Voting for Biden will help any Palestinian and the ones who still think it is cool to be detached. Wake up. MAGA will be coming for you. 
 
 

Bothered by Having to Think? We At Save-U-Tyme. Have The Answer!!!

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When The War Comes, Will We Have Anyone To Send ? #Blog Battle : June Unaware

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Watching

Foreword: Sometimes a character in a short story will not slip back into the From Whence They Came. Their back story, forward stories stay around, an aura of possibilities. This is one such. For those who have not read of the previous accounts here are the links:

The Day When The Stationery Was No Longer Stationary – #Blog Battle – March  Miscellanarian

Revisit, Review, Revise. #Blog Battle : May –Extract

And here is the latest:

****************************************************************************************************

The dark boat slipped through the still waters of the clouded night, propelled by a small black sail, making landfall in a small cove. The four men were swift and light-footed, making their way to the house slipping over the wall, and expertly mastering the locks. In this deep part of the night most were asleep. The guard silenced.

Her eyes snapped open. People in the room. This was the kidnap, and she’d been told a girl should always remain calm. She sat up, sheet to her chin. She assumed the one putting a finger to his lips was the leader, a tall man, very quiet. By the lack of any sound or unnecessary effort, she assumed these were professionals. They allowed her to put a coat on, and even gather some clothing. Confident too.

Down to the beach and the craft, she was helped into the boat.  They were out to sea and not long in reaching the equally dark small ship. After being assisted on board, she was escorted to a small cabin. Then her rather comfortable gag was removed. No one had and even then spoke to her. She was left; with a jug of water, also a small loaf of bread. There was even a reasonable bunk. This was all very civilised. Murmurings going on, but no unnecessary sounds. All very efficient. The door would be locked to a high standard.

Captain Volper gave out the next draft of orders thus The Marlin turned to make a prompt exit from the region. Everything had, thus far gone very well. He would only truly relax when they made harbour and the captive was handed over to the officers of the Knights’ Commander.

He was not surprised when his bosun an experienced man he had worked with these two years disturbed his sleep. This time he had the air of one, instructing

‘We have something interesting Captain,’ the man said,

‘Our guest? What sort of Interesting?’

‘She opened cabin porthole,’

‘She tried to slip out? Must be a good swimmer,’

‘Wasn’t her intention. Meyga on sentry saw the glimmer of a mirror. She’s watching us watching her,’

‘Ask Weatherman Dolenger here,’

Weatherman was the watch-name. Seemingly a crew member with a gift for reading subtle changes in weather. The name to keep excessive religious types away from someone gifted with Ethereal senses. Like all in his trade, Dolenger was quiet, careful not to draw attention to himself, and vigilant.

‘Watch do you reckon Weatherman?’ Volper asked.

‘She’s lying low Captain. She’s either cautious or skilled in some Ethereal thing. Not any merchant’s pretty, precious daughter,’

‘I wish the Knights’ Commander office would keep us fully appraised of matters. Triple the watch on her cabin, lower a boat and keep vigilance there. Weatherman keep vigilant. We’ll wait until dawn,’

Definitely not ordinary pirates.

Satisfied as only someone in her role could feel with that conclusion she hauled the rudimentary pillow and sheet to the door. With a pillow behind her and sheet over her she positioned herself against the door as comfy as possible as a human barrier could be, twisted the ring on her right third finger, and settled down to wait.

See what dawn would bring.

Volper mused on his Weatherman’s latest opinion there was an aura of calculation about the woman.

‘We’ll assume she’s more than a decoy for Thelesima, youngest daughter of the Merchant Lord Strambos,’ Volper said to his bosun ‘And since it’s sun up. Let’s see if she’s willing to talk,’

‘Yes. Let’s’ the bosun said.

Volper was not have been surprised by two crew scowling at the door, he was puzzled though.

‘She’s barricaded herself in,’ one said ‘ Must be sitting against the door. Says she wants to speak with you,’’

He looked to his Weatherman, who was frowning at the door. Oh, trouble.

‘Bosun. The Marlin is yours for the present,’ the man nodded and left, peering at the door.

‘There’s something stormy in there Captain,’

‘Thank you, Weatherman. Let’s find out then if it’s navigable,’ he was all business to the door ‘ This is Captain Volper. What do you require? And your name would be useful,’

Some said she took risks with too unpredictable outcomes. She reasoned conflict relied on such when you were out here, or there, relying on yourself.

‘Principal Lieutenant Zwanglos of the LifeGuard,’ she announced in her official voice ‘Your cautious actions indicate you have a level of discipline and are acting on orders. Identify your chain of command,’

Her impulse had been to voice a pithier more natural

‘LifeGuard. We wanna know wot yer up to sunshine,’

But, sometimes you just had to sound official.

Volper stifled down his surprise. A professional thief or adventurer with a quirky manner and gift of The Sales Talk acting on a commission would have been expected. The LifeGuard though, on the very flexible southern borders of the Centrus Sea? He told himself, he had a distinct tactical advantage. And his bosun was paying rapt attention.

‘We are marines of the Knights of The Lord God’s Vigilance and are about the task of keeping the imperial coastline safe for honest merchants and perilous to those of ill-intent,’ sometimes using the official statement was easier than trying to explain details

There was a distinct snort from the other side of the door. The voice’s accent hardened, the tone dismissive.

‘Well, you’re going about it in a fribbin’ peculiar way. Running off with merchants’ family members. That’s not conducive to Imperial Stability,’

‘We have information which indicates there is a cartel,’

‘Not one we’re aware of that is a threat to Stability,’

He paused to fume. LifeGuard and their Stability. The biggest crook in Humanity could sit on the Imperial throne, as long as they kept things ‘Stable’. His pause had allowed her to continue.

‘Now I know wot’s wot…..’

‘Wot’s wot’…Oh, she’s an elidian, they are the biggest crooks. Makes sense now.

‘I feel it fayre to point out I’ve put out a marker on your craft, and my commanders know just where you are. If my personal transmission comes to an abrupt end, so shall your craft. Give me a little boat I’ll row back. Take this to your Knights as a warning,’

The Weatherman twitched.

‘There have been tales about The LifeGuard’s long reach Captain. If she threatens to have us sunk. Don’t dismiss it,’ he looked skywards.

Volper was certainly not. Yet he was senior here. He navigated on.

‘All we are doing,’ he said with great restraint ‘Is requiring certain Merchants to cease activities detrimental to the commercial and moral integrity of the coastal regions. It may seem rough to kidnap but I can assure you these family members are kept in respectable comfort. It had been judged the only way to reach out for dialogue,’

There was a pause, the door opened enough for one hand to appear, slender rings on the left index, middle, and third ginger twinkling.

‘The authority and ability,’ she announced.

The Weatherman tugged his Captain’s sleeve.

‘Those rings. Ethereal. They whisper,’

From his years of service, Volper did not think it was likely that the Knights or their final authority The Ecclesiastes would have been so blind to the LifeGuard’s constant and invasive observations of all aspects Imperial. Yet he had not been warned of this likelihood of  Decoy, or Ambush to use as a threat.

‘Principal Lieutenant Zwanglos. If you were to step outside. We can discuss this. I respect your potential. You should therefore respect my situation,’

There was a pause, then the door opened. The dress had been replaced by leggings and light shirt, a knife on a slender belt, and a leg of the chair tucked in as a cudgel. Volper thought her all too well prepared. And warned?

‘As you can see,’ she began then frowned, looking down at the rings, at the same time The Weatherman drawled out one swear word. The pair exchanged sudden knowing looks.

‘Better get the mechanical engines going Captain,’ he warned.

‘Zig-zag course,’ she added, then cursing, in disbelief at the rings, raised her hand to her mouth calling out

‘I have not enacted. I have not enacted. Withhold. Withhold,’

The Weatherman once more regarded the sky.

‘Oh yes. Storm’s a’coming,’

He said not to his Captain but to her.

The LifeGuard continued her enraged converse. Volper’s crew alert to all threats the Centrus could swiftly have the engine working while manoeuvring unpredictably. As Zwanglos suddenly felt a small object, probably stale bread strike her scalp, swinging round she saw the bosun leaning over the quarter-deck rail, looking sharp with realisation.

‘Hoi!’ he called his accent suddenly clear elidian ‘You’re the one wot’s stitched up l’tenant. You bin set up good ‘n proper,’

‘Me?’ she called back, though the surprise was quickly replaced by anguished understanding, causing her to pull in savage determination at the rings, uncaring of the skin being ripped off in the process.

‘Counting down from two hundred?’ she demanded of The Weatherman as she threw the rings into the sea.

‘Give or take fifty,’ he said after a glance to the sky.

Shrugging off a staying hand as she grabbed the port side of the weaving craft, Zwanglos turned back to Volper, wry bitterness contorting her features.

‘Take wot you’ve seen an’ heard. Use it spare yer crew an’ yerself. Now turn your ship or boat or wotnot away from me. I was not aware dammit,’ and dived into the water, vanishing from sight.

‘Hundred and fifty Captain,’ warned the Weatherman.

The bosun stared out at the last sighting of the girl

With sail and engine at full use, the craft skimmed away.

‘Heads down and cover your eyes,’ called out The Weatherman.

There came a thin split in the sky, a long narrow yellow brightness tormented a small locality of the sea into a place of steam and violent bubbling as high as the Marlin’s sail, causing waves to circle out for enough distance for some to slap against the stern, making the craft to buck enough to for all to fear it would near topple over.

And then all was still.

Opinion was divided on whether the fate might have been slit in two, blown into bits, or set a’ blaze from stern to bow. Everyone agreed they would not have survived.

‘What do we do now Captain?’ was the next thing most asked.

Volper had the course set to their home port, concluded the whole crew needed to hear whatever the bosun had to say to explain his warning to the girl. His words came slow and thoughtful, still trying to make explainable sense. His accent was quite different, again, something of the far north, where seas were cold and troubled grey.

‘In daylight, description matched. One who had been in The Ecclesiastes’ ranks. Talented but unpopular. Controversial, maybe heretical. Then she skipped to the LifeGuard. There are games within games being played. In the Ecclesiastes, there was deal with parts of the LifeGuard and she was the price,’ he sighed ‘We were bait. She must have thought she was just the messenger, not the catch, until,’ he nodded to the Weatherman ‘She got a storm warning,’

‘And gave her life for us,’ said Volper.

‘All except me,’ said the bosun ‘I fell overboard, never seen again. I leave it up to you merry lads to work out the details. I have other work to do. Find out who are doing deals with The LifeGuard and why. My reason for being here in the first place. Games within Games,’

Somewhere, out at sea. Floating on an Ethereal. Pained and scared. But still angry enough to be alive.

She was vaguely aware of another swift slender craft approaching, bemused at more decent treatment as she was carefully hauled on board.

‘Thank you,’ she rasped. ‘Whoever you are,’

‘Work to be done Zwanglos,’

A bottle touched her lips, hands gently held her head as she drank.

As the pain slipped away and sleep called to her she managed one last message.

‘I was unaware,’

One other thought.

‘And unaware now,’

A Few Random Commentaries. S’All

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Thoughtful

(I thought it would be nice to start with a relaxing sort of picture).

Anyway, bearing in mind the sort of stuff you encounter in the public domain, whatever the source, the following have occurred to me.

Truth is the preserve of natural events, such as letting go of a stone and its falls on your foot, or standing in the rain and getting wet. Everything else we do or believe is up to interpretation, evaluation or hindsight.

I do try and avoid too much viewing of  social media platforms such as Facebook or Instagram. The output thereupon leads me to wonder if the Government described in Nineteen Eighty Four was simply too intense, over thinking the problems and just needed to tone it down a notch or two. Now that mindset cannot be healthy, either.

Usually an extreme right winger has only to open their mouth and you know you are in the company of an idiot. Whereas their opposite number on the left will spend an hour or so talking, or producing ten pages before you reach the same conclusion. (Note to self: Caution….Mr Hugh Bris might be around).

If someone does claim something is a False Flag operation there is a very high probability you are listening to or reading something from someone who has come across something they violently do not like but have not the patience or constructive mindset to form a sensible, and intelligent argument. Or simply cannot because there is no evidence to support their claim.

If you have worked in Government Service long enough, the twin ideas of highly organised operations to enact a Conspiracy and efficiently cover it up is such a laughable notion. It is more likely that said government will float the idea of a Conspiracy to cover up and distract the public from some immense screw up.

History suggests the salutary lesson that those who start wars do not often get to finish them on their terms.

Thanks to Climate Change Deniers you can’t even use the old fall back of discussing the weather as a neutral topic of conversation.

Avoid on-line reviews that have the heading ‘Meh’. It indicates the person has a short attention span and never bothered to pay attention to the themes of the work.

I might be wrong, but probably am not, but it would appear that the word ‘Woke’ was once only used by folk who wanted to appear sharp and up with the times, but is now appears only to be used by folk  who don’t like social progress or equality.

We all have our triggers and tipping points where we slip from calls for justice into demands for retribution. Beware they don’t settle into a habit.

There are actually Facts, it’s just that they get swamped in social media commentary.

As long as it has a willing audience Evil is very adept at appearing reasonable, plain, common sense.

Great people who achieve Great Things still do not deserve a free pass on every aspect of their lives. Do not deify them.  But do not allow others to try and remove the achievements by concentrating on those failures.

Within ourselves in those deep secret places we would rather not visit, there lurk our irrational types of prejudices. Admit they are there, but do not pay them court. Keep their doors locked and barred to stifle their whisperings.

Never take Democracy for granted. Not only can it be taken from you by the snap of the fingers, but also by slow, steady, seemingly acceptable degrees. The latter being the most effective. On the other hand lurks one of the great questions on Democracy. How much you are prepared to sacrifice to ensure you do not lose it all to the ever restless forces of Intolerance?

You can justify anything, as long as you ignore Justice.

AND FINALLY

We can all come up with apparently wise and incisive comments. We can all Talk The Talk. The question is (note to self). Can we Walk The Walk?

Of Maze and Mists Folk (July#BattleBlog- Hatch)

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The Maze Folk

          Threll, Invigilator Civic to Prince Machthaber of  Dienlich, was a man who wielded calm patience as a weapon of fearful effectiveness. Nobody wanted to be the one who caused him to lose his temper; in his usual demeanour he left an efficient enough trail of woe upon any who suffered his professional displeasure.

          ‘This is most unfortunate,’

          He sounded as if an unforeseen weather event was causing cancellation of an afternoon’s repose in his garden. However the slight furrowing of his brow warned the two before him. One was trying to keep the word ‘grave’ out of their thoughts; it gave a prescient air to matters.

          Both knew not to serve excuses up to Threll. Reasons and self-criticism were your best hopes; no babbling either. Calm and composed, was the way

          ‘Very unfortunate,’ Surveyoress Bekwaam said, contrition in her voice, encouraging her colleague.

          ‘Quite so,’ Surveyor Ervaren agreed.

          Threll considered the two of his senior staff.

          ‘Indeed,’ he said ‘And have you formulated how the deep coded false message to the rebel group to act, thus showing their hand actually contained a warning they had been compromised? It should have been impossible considering our failsafe programmes,’

          Bekwamm straightened clutching the file into the crook of her arm.

          ‘Three separate layers of code, each with their own clerkes did not account for clerical errors being transposed,’ she swallowed ‘We should have considered this,’ and handed The Analysis to her superior.

 

          Some days before.

          ‘Time to unlatch the hatch, and sneak the catch,’ the fellow trilled.

          Ven being the professional thief of the duo gripped the fellow. Palavelle by name, being a rogue Mechanical. His talents enabled him to work through a quadruple lock with three sets of alarms, his lack of common sense allowed him to announce his success to the locality and would have had him march into the final, least subtle but most effect trap.

          Two axes swung down from the walls in a criss-cross motion.

          ‘An’t you lucky,’ Ven hissed ‘I know the classics. Now let’s get in before someone comes to find out who is singing damn silly songs, this far from a tavern,’

          Once they eased passed the still slightly swaying blades Ven had the man relock everything.

          ‘Ah latch the catch. There’s the thing,’

          Why, Ven mused to himself did these rogue Mechanicals have to been so artisy and showy? They didn’t impress nobody down the working end of the City. After this job was done he’d have quiet words with his Guv’nor, Old Fryd about this one. Even if a contract was a contract, and the whole job was for someone, who might be acting for another someone else, if fellows like Ven Jek was caught, the last conversation would be with a rope.

          Meanwhile, get the business done. Hope everyone in the town house of a lesser duke, one Sabatch, placed too much faith in that lock and assumed it was doing all the work. 

          ‘Stop humming. This is no social visit,’

          ‘You should be happy in your work,’

          ‘I save, Happy, for when the job is over. Save all your talents for third door up on the left,’

 

          ‘It’s not a bad piece of work Guv’nor,’ Ven said handing over the ornately carved lapis lazuli statuette. Old Fryd surveyed with work with a veteran’s eye, but nonetheless passed it to the gang’s own antique expert.

          ‘Actually, very nice,’ the fellow said examining details through magnifier ‘Well done young Ven for bringing such a delicate piece out intact. I’ve seen a thousand golds literally knocked off the value through carelessness,’

          Old Fryd winced at the memories.

          ‘How was our,’ he coughed dryly ‘Specialist,’

          ‘Typical talented risk from the Comfy Class, getting his thrills,’ Ven said sourly. ‘Lucky, we didn’t raid some sort of professional Antique collector, not so legal,’ 

          Their own expert pulled a face.

          ‘They do get very cross and usually have accurate ideas where to express their displeasure. Did he pick up anything of for his own collection, a souvenir?’

          Ven shrugged.

          ‘He fiddled and nosed with a few bits; that was all. Shouldn’t use him again Guv’nor. Him and his damn sing-song silly rhymes. As if everyone appreciates them,’  

          ‘I’ll take care of those words Ven. That I will,’        

 

          Around the same time.

          ‘Imagine how embarrassing it would be to have the name of Hatchapatch,’

          Fegdale tightened putting down his newspaper in a sharp movement. The club was a place where one was supposed to sit and enjoy silence.

          ‘The matter has never occurred to me, Wingsleyden. In fact, I would say I couldn’t care two straws on the subject,’

          ‘Even so,’ the man had continued as if the matter were of fundamental philosophical concern ‘It would be fairly hard going for the poor fellow. You could make all sorts of poor jokes at his expense,’

          Fegdale glowered at Wingsleyden, who seemed unconcerned by the sight.

          ‘Why this sudden morbid interest in such an unlikely name?’

          Wingsleyden waved his own newspaper in response.

          ‘Why? Because I encountered the name in this journal. He’s suffered a ballooning accident at a farm cottage. And the bally paper has made light of it,’ his voice took on an injured tone as he waved the broadsheet in Fegdale’s face, pointing to a small column set aside for trivia ‘Hatchapatch Catches The Thatch In An Inflated Despatch,’

          The irony that one of the biggest fatheads in town was inadvertently blurting out a significance message was not lost on Fegdale. There was no time to reflect on such synchronicity. At least the warning had reached him sooner than the usual network of bemused gossip arising from a seemingly random quirky newspapers items. He grunted his excuse for leaving.

          ‘It comes to something when a fellow cannot find peace and quiet at his club,’

          The bustle of night time mixed with the steady autumn rain would provide distractions and cover. As watchman this was one of his roles. Raise the alarm.

 

          ‘This is very thorough, and it has to be said honest work,’ Thrall said to the pair, at the next meeting. ‘Taking full responsibility for all of your region’s status,’

          Ervaren took the lead.

          ‘We should have been more vigilant with the codes. Both in their drafting and overseeing. Complex systems need constant surveillance,’

          ‘Always a problem,’ Thrall agreed ‘ Balancing a system’s theoretical composition not to be compromised with its efficiency in practice,’      

          ‘Mistakes have been made, I hope lessons learnt,’ Bekwamm added ‘At least the rebels should be relatively easy to trace, with their nascent unprofessional approach,’ 

          ‘Yes,’ agreed Thrall ‘As the old tag-line goes. Good luck, bad luck. Who can say?’

          And sighed.

          The duo laughed, lightly.

          Slightly relieved.

 

          Palavelle relaxed and then only slightly when the coastline slipped from view. Even in uncouth company, being a simple conveyor dropping a message tube into an indifferent vase had been a thrill. All the fuss afterwards though; folk vanishing, strangers come to spirit you out of town. Far too rich a diet for him. Exile it would have to be.

          ‘Do you think he ever knew who he was working for?’ Ven Jek asked from the alley shadows as the ship sailed on.

          ‘Doubt it,’ Wingsleyden drawled glad to be relieved of his public voice.

          ‘Fribbin’ Comfies thinking it’s game,’ Ven spat. ‘Speaking code without checking,’

          ‘You try being one, year in year out chum,’ Wingsleyden said in grim humour ‘Forget your own name in a while, you will,’

 

          Fegdale was carefully drafting his confession, making sure it was officially obvious he had actually been working for the princedom as a decoy agent within the Dukes’ rebellion. That was what he had been told to write. He confessed to being quite wrong, the prince’s administration was very efficient. And was that not what everyone wanted? From his cell window he could see the scaffold. He shuddered thinking on his narrow escape.

 

          Maid Bekwaam comforted by her last herbal tea, walked composed to the scaffold. There was no more to be said. She had been caught in acts of treason. At least Thrall had assured her, her mother would be protected from the threats which had forced Bekwaam into the rebels’ hands. How they had targeted her was still being investigated. She was glad it was autumn, she would hate to be seen sweating.

 

          Bekwaam could remember the rope, it was silken, then the brief tightness. Now she was blinking? Someone was peering into her face with a magnifier. And she was breathing?

          ‘Yes. She is recovering,’ the someone said, her focus returned, he was elderly and maybe familiar?

          Two pairs of women’s hands raised her gently, sweet clear water to her lips, she knew enough to sip, and wait for clarity.

 

          She knew this one; Franzet ‘Old Fryd’ Durchtrieben. In criminal terms equivalent to nobility, always careful in his playing of sides. Thus, not surprising to learn now his network had found out her fate, unbeknown to her smuggled a powerful narcotic into her tea; the resulting feigned death, her coffin switched with another. All an effective rescue. Further details she might know eventually. Until then, be guardedly grateful.

          ‘Hello Miss Bekwaam. I won’t repeat the explanations. Glad to see you looking well,’ he tutted ‘Hate to see good resources wasted. Can’t have that,’

          ‘Thank you for thinking so,’ she replied, still a little croaky.

          ‘We’ll be easing you elsewhere. Five hundred myles south and west to Elinid. I expect you have a working knowledge about how that city is run. We have an agreement with the Silc clan there. They could use someone of your deductive and organisational talents. You’ll like it. Not so stuffy. Still spry enough to start afresh,’ he winked ‘And we’ll arrange for you to keep in touch with your old Mum. We got tender folk are already explaining basic matters to her, so it won’t come as a shock,’

          Bekwaam had to admit, currently this was a better outcome. She could not help but wonder if Thrall had some idea about this. A much broader and deeper game maybe.

 

          Ervaren brooded into the into the glass. He should have helped Bekwaam and not been instrumental in laying her upon Strategy’s bloody altar, our sacrifice of gratitude for a bountiful harvest of the treacherous, all to ensure our prince slept well.

          Without the usual knock the door to his study opened. His servant, a solid veteran entered, three men followed him, stern. Ervaren was familiar with the type, those who did not need to be obvious. He managed a harsh laugh and swilled his wine.

          ‘And so, the covering of the traces. My turn then,’ he raised his glass in a sincere salutation. ‘Make it quick and dignified. And Lave here, I bear you no ill-will,’

          One man of iron-grey short hair afforded Ervaren a softening of his expression.

           ‘Surveyor Ervaren. Your remorse and the urge for self-chastisement are understandable. However, these are pragmatic times. The empire’s stability always paramount. Invigilator Civic Thrall is willing for your talents to be seconded,’

          ‘Seconded?’ the effects of the wine flushed out by professionalism.

          ‘Yes,’ the voice was now shielded ‘The Invigilator understands he is too close to be effective on one issue. There are concerns regarding Prince Machthaber. Being the subject of avaricious potential rebellions does not exclude a prince from suspicion on other issues. You will receive instructions on methods of reporting,’ a thin smile ‘All for the stability of the Empire,’

          Later, pondering, Ervaren could not help but feel it could just as easily have been Bekwaam receiving those words. Imperial Stability was such an amoral concept.

 

          Duke Sabatch was vexed. Another occasion of Court People trampling through his town house. He would vet his staff better.

 

          Thrall made fresh entries upon the map of relationships and alliances. It would not do to lose track of who was who and what was being hatched by all sides. At least Sabatch was consistent, The Useful Idiot.