Category: Uncategorized

Coils a coiling

Coils a coiling

The delight of writhing coils is no-one knowing at any moment what flailing tentacle/limb will suddenly attach itself to an unwary passing event.

A leaked spreadsheet among the higher levels of the republican party is laying out plans for an adverse mid-term election result which puts the democrats in a majority in congress in a couple of months. They are panicking at the list of issues which would form the basis of congressional investigations from various committees as they would then control and set the agendas.

Inadvertently this list rebounds on the republicans by acting as a summary of all the areas where they are being deficient in their duty to act as a check and balance on the executive arm of government, or POTUS.

As best as I remember these are through not operating proper oversight, through the actual oversight committee of:

  1. Collusion with Russia by the Trump campaign
  2. Interference in their elections, hacking etc.
  3. Trump family businesses – and charity
  4. Payments to Stormy Daniels
  5. The firing of FBI chief James Comey

 

Unwittingly they are performing a mea culpa.

This geek welcomes comment/criticism as then I know someone cares.

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Coils of Trump

Following this shit.

Is this just me wasting time? What kind of geek have I become to spend hours a day enthralled by the unfolding coils of Trump’s lies as exposed on American news media?

Whatever as they say, lets make use of it by trying to lay it all out for those with other things to do with their time, like you readers folks.

First off I believe we are watching a massive spectacle, the fall of a potentially tyrannical and simultaneously absurd global leader. This whole episode is grotesque almost beyond belief, and to a Brit it has a kind of beauty with US openness allowing us to see the workings of the bowels of their constitution in its slow grind. We need have no sense of superiority, with our unwritten rules it could happen here could it not? We would hardly know, so to work.

At the present state of play POTUS (President Of The US, as he is known) is hopelessly and terminally exposed, but does not seem to realise it himself. There are three teams of lawyers coming after him on three major fronts:

1) Is him personally, the crook and proven liar who shifts the ground so fast he kicks up so much dust and headlines, even when a hand is laid on him the grip is loosened by new outrages with fresh public distraction. But each time a bit of him is getting torn off. The energy is astonishing, so breathtaking are his twists and turns you admire his mental agility until you realise it is based on vacuity, ignorance, and reckless amorality. He makes egregious mistakes with each change of direction and he can only make those as he is blind to the dangers he is opening himself up to on every turn. At times there are tactics and even strategies behind his moves but mostly it seems instinctual because of the bullying monster he is.

2) Is his ongoing creation namely his business entity ‘The Trump Organisation/Corporation’, and this is now targeted by New York State lawyers especially with the evidence pouring out from its CEO, a now co-operating RAT in Trump’s terms. The hugely significant detail of this is a) POTUS has no power to pardon anyone involved in this investigation or prosecution, it is NOT Federal, and does not come under his powers. Us Brits often have a hard time puzzling over the meaning of “State’s Rights” but this is the case, so he has no ability to threaten or promise a ‘get out’ to keep people in line-like Paul Manafort.

3) This third target is the Trump Charity. At this point I forget by who and how it is being targeted, oh yes, they have collared the Chief Financial Officer/CEO who is singing like a bird we are told to avoid doing bird/jailtime. In this arena his children and their partners are much implicated.To me this might prove to be his Achilles heel, despite his obvious greed, his ego and amorality it seems he loves his family and this vulnerability might connect all the way through the density and egomania of his brain and prove an avenue to bring him crashing down.

Nuff for now, will any warped soul read this? Do let me know, and do comment and correct any errors as you see them.

 

 


			

		
	
	

					
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The Unexpected
			

									
											
							
 
					

				
I regarded this site like an old notebook as forgotten years ago, and to now find I have a site in ‘ready to go’ form is – to change the metaphor – like finding an old car in the shed which starts up and runs with a little coaxing. So now I have found how to sign in I am behind the wheel and ready to dribble drivel over the internet.


A form of diary I suppose, a public diary when I press the button, is it an art form? A good diary can be, like Mr Pepys, but I make no claim on his skills yet nevertheless I find it calming and even company to share my life as comment on a digital rather than paper page.


Two Poplars Gone


A vicious storm, so the weatherman said,


too damn right. And now my fifty footers


lay sadly horizontal.


Grown from two cuttings eight inches long,


twenty years synthesising sunlight into such grand structures,


(I decorated them with climbing roses)


laid low in twenty minutes.


And a chestnut and a willow and countless limbs strewn upon


the battlefield all about their giant trunks.


Strangely they put me in mind of my parents after death.


Mother at 103 was withered, twisted, worn out, a husk.


Father was quite magnificent, a grand old oak of 90 odd summers


laid out in our lounge, boxed, ready to go.


These structures, material energetic spiritual, ceasing to be.

			

		
	
	

					
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Found!
			

									
											
							
 
					

				
Memory,


here we are in 2018 and I have found this old website. What fun I had. Now to update when I have something worth saying.



			

		
	
	

					
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Near Psychedelic Coronation
			

									
											
							
 
					

				
Near Psychedelic Coronation.

			

		
	
	

					
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Near Psychedelic Coronation
			

									
											
							
 
					

				
NEAR PSYCHEDELIC CORONATION


Oh yes! Slow climactic surge increasing, brightness feelings, sounds enfolding, bursting glory gifting greatness to ALL HAIL! ALL HAIL! ALL HAIL MACBETH!


The throaty roar rang out from soldiers courtiers, choir and peasants there assembled loud convincing until as the director required of us, nay orders us, to shake down showers of dust from the sunlit golden dome of Ely Cathedral’s mighty cosmic Lantern Tower.


Gathered beneath it around the Coronation throne we film crew surprised ourselves with the seeming significance. A new and mighty King was birthed, crowned, anointed and vested our leader, with life and death power, by us the people in ceremonial duty. Stand monk, along with your brothers I was commanded, we the church were still, sober silent and erect behind the throne, a bulwark, a flying buttress to the Royal and civil order made sacred by our presence, lending Holy sanctification.


Best job I’ve had for years, eh! A clear hundred quid for standing there, a hairy beardy prannet, garbed and wardrobed, cowl and cross, by Bishops in their golden vestments capes and mitres, crooks and staves. Upon the throne the mightiest crook of all; with murderous dark intent he had slain his illegitimate way to the throne and this monk, closely observing him, Michael Fassbender as it happens, up close and personal, and seeing then, do, as only skilled actors can, with his peering piercing LOOK, way down past the assembled throng into the cavernous long and smoky nave lit by great diagonal sunbeams pouring their lines through the artificial smoke, he probed the future. He saw destiny, fate, crying the polar opposite of the earthly acclamation.


There was no ALL HAIL, his twisted evil heart knew as did his likewise lady that this was a hollow victory. All the crowd there gathered knew, knew but dare not utter. Kiss the ring each kneeling ranking Lord in turn, but unbelieve.


Still it was a great occasion. Grand and regal in all its trappings, with the colour, trimmings, and all the sentiments too. The stirring up within, even of this aged monk, new valour in the blood, a warlike readiness to kill and conquer for this our leader of our tribe, we Scots, bloody and fierce, if only in our Scottish Play. Damn near psychedelic indeed under the dome of the Lantern Tower.

			

		
	
	

					
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A picture is worth a thousand words

			


		
	
	

					
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My book is now on Amazon
			

									
											
							
 
					

				
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Psychedelic Grandads Get Rocks Off at ‘Breaking Convention 2013’
			

									
											
							
 
					

				
Psychedelic Grandads Get Rocks Off at ‘Breaking Convention 2013’


Gonzo style


Was it disgusting? Would Mary Whitehouse have had it banned? There were all these lined creepy old men with straggly hair, wispy beards and very few birds dragging around their convention goodie-bags in the grand classically pillared precincts of the Royal Maritime headquarters making up the University of Greenwich in bright sunny broad daylight, outrageous!


Mingling with them and alert to conversations about “Acid”, “Blow”, “The Incredible String Band, Hawkwind, Expanded Consciousness, Psychedelia, the Sixties and Twink” were bright-eyed super-intelligent sparkly young folk, little ditsy pseudo beards, disdain and irony temporarily suspended, pulsing to a new beat they seemed to be enjoying the whole three day binge of re-charged assertion of the importance of new and expanded perspectives. Yup and Wow déjà-vu all over again again in a trance loop.


The middle layer of middle-aged men, the university cream at the centre of this multi-coloured psychedelic trifle-cake were earnest, even seriously unbelievably clever types out on a limb with their beliefs principles motives and hopes, organising with enormous efficiency the multi-disciplinary power of this tremendous cultural shebang, the Dukes, Sessas and Kings of this academic mind opening-blowing carnival.


And the guests! The speakers, Lordy lordy!  There goes the very much ex-drugs Czar Professor extremely learned and politically adroit Dr David Nutt almost hand in hand with horn blowing ‘Silver Machine’ Nik Turner and Muslim garbed soft and gentle Pink Fairies drummer Twink. The two extremes of wild sixties turn on and dance space excess alongside the cerebral measured awareness of the practical applications by clinicians of certain intensively scrutinised and monitored brain altering chemicals in therapy for treating grossly damaged PTSDisorderd soldiers and civilians while arguing for sensible substance risk estimation and control.


This Psychedelic Grandad nearly had a brainstorm, never so stimulated and set free since first loss of body and ego way back in… when was it? Oh yes ’68 I blew my windows out, doors too, and now we can publicly talk intelligently about it, the ineffable and the indescribable sometimes divine, the so much greater potential buried in our minds and brains than is everyday admitted. Folks with exotic African and Amazonian shamanistic psychonaut experience reported back from frightening faraway zones perfectly nearby in time and space. Paradoxical, you bet. You had to be there with synapses flapping gasping like evoluting critters from the ocean that we are dragging up a sunlit beach to the backbeat drone of trance and hypno heard in the ancestral waves and wind of the aeons.


Next one soon please, bigger and better and bugger the Daily Mail and her censorious ilk, Break with Convention Yeah!


Psychedelic Grandad and Breaking Convention contributor Roderick A Read.

			

		
	
	

					
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Academic respectability ?
			

				
Wonderful preface from Dr David Burke criminologist with Cambridge University at times and author of ‘The Spy who came in from the Co-op:Melita Norwood and the Ending of Cold War Espionage History of British Intelligence’ see http://www.amazon.co.uk/Spy-Who-Came-Co-op-Intelligence/dp/1843834227


His is a similar two part title to my ‘LSD – Blew Out Grandad’s Windows; Integrating Psychedelic Experience’. I wonder if I should reverse the order of my two parts to make a more serious appeal?

			

		
	
	

					
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