December 9, 2016
August 23, 2016
April 28, 2016
September 25, 2015
August 10, 2015
June 24, 2015
June 8, 2015
Music is important to me. This morning Henryk Górecki’s Symphony No. 3, Op. 36, Symfonia pieśni żałosnych (Symphony of Sorrowful Songs) plays in my headphones. The solo voice in the first movement sings a Polish lament of Mary, Christ’s mother. In the second movement the same soprano voice sings a message written on the wall of a Gestapo cell during the second world war. The themes here are of motherhood and loss through war.
Helena Wanda Błażusiakówna wrote the message on the Gestapo cell wall. She was eighteen years old at the time, little more than a feckin’ child. She wrote: “O Mamo nie płacz nie-Niebios Przeczysta Królowo Ty zawsze wspieraj mnie” (Oh Mamma do not cry – Immaculate Queen of Heaven support me always)…
She wasn’t thinking about herself. No, feck it. She was thinking about her mother. She recognised it would be her mother who would experienced true despair at her daughter’s ultimate fate.
Xenophobia seems rampant in the UK nowadays. People never learn from the lessons of the past…
Day before yesterday, early A.M., I’m in the living room with my damaged thoughts. Four cats there, keeping me sleepy company. I catch movement from the corner of my eye. Glancing over, I see a mouse…Un ratón! Une souris! Un topo! It’s running in short spurts along the skirting towards the open door to the hall.
Feckin’ incredible, boys and girls.
Four furry heads rise and observe – glowing eyes full of lethal intent – the slow progess of Mr mouse, who seems totally oblivious of any cat presence or immediate danger. Then, almost with a shrug of feline shoulders, the four lower their heads and go back to sleep…Or a semblance of sleep. While I leap from the sofa and give chase to the little gray interloper.
I realise then, at that precise point in time, the cats keep me around as their pet in order to limit the incursions of unwanted creatures from the great outdoors. I’m the chief rat and mouse catcher. My sole raison d’être…
Last night, talk of extraterrestrial life forms on Earth. ‘Already here, probably,’ I proclaimed (a little pissed, perhaps). ‘Arrived before life as we know and accept it came into existence. It’s digital ‘life’, a computer virus, countless billions of years old…’
Programmed by God…?
Undetected by Norton or Mcafee!
It’s here feeding off the world wide web, transforming certain users into mindless, hate-filled trolls. It loves pornography and Yahell and Faecesbook. The Earth today is alien heaven…
I see Cheltenham Ladies’ College is considering getting rid of prep – homework to the uninitiated. It was in the Times newspaper. It’s in order to tackle an “epidemic” of teenage depression and anxiety currently infecting UK schools. Eve Jardine-Young, principal of the 162-year-old boarding and day school in Gloucestershire, said that over the next five years they will review whether to stop giving pupils homework.
Meanwhile, Teachers are being trained to spot mental illness and from September pupils will attend weekly meditation classes and be given twice as long to walk between lessons.
Jardine-Young warned that the average age at which depression was first diagnosed had almost halved from 29 in the 1960s to 15-and-a-half early this century. “We’ve created this epidemic of anxiety for ourselves as a society, and if our obligation as educators is to try to the best of our ability to set young people up as best we can for whatever the future may hold, then to ignore this whole area or to trivialise it is really irresponsible.”
Cheltenham Ladies’ is looking into university-style “flip learning”, where pupils read up on material before classes, as an alternative to homework in two or three subjects. Ms Jardine-Young also said that smartphones, tablets and laptops are making it difficult to keep stress from the outside world coming into the college.
Yeah, I bet it is. But anything that helps combat the worsening state of adolescent mental health must be for the good. Kids today face too much pressure, born of high societal expectations. They have to succeed in a materialistic society that exhibits all the values of a deranged psychopath; a society that, like any multinational corporation, only worries about ‘profit’ and ‘loss’. Nothing else matters a fig…
I think it’s very possible death created time to grow the things its going to kill…
To see in the life cycle of the caterpillar
The struggle of the soul
Ummm, work is calling me. No rest for the wicked, and I am very wicked…