Notlob

WoW

2005-12-10T13:29:00.000+01:00

I don't remember much of what I've written down there.

Clever some of it - but was it me?

25 cents, Please

2005-03-08T19:47:00.000+01:00

Chopping wood and fetching water does give enlightenment. The world is present.

Waiting for the daily commute gives frustration. Only the human world is present.

The corollary is that a working life doesn't give much chance for enlightenment.

Prisms, Metaphors and Quietness

2005-03-08T19:45:00.000+01:00

I've read a bit of Darwin and I've read a bit of Bohr. I've read quite a lot of bits of quite a lot of pieces. But a lotta details are gone. A few isolated peaks (the good bits) are left.

These bits are my credentials for living in the modern paradigm.

But i probably don't understand any of it. Not really. Not any more and not in any depth. And I am well aware, that even these fragments can long ago have been replaced and my threadbare meanings more obsolete than ever.

Like mathematics from school these "peak achievements" have little utility in my lifespace.

More and more I reflect, that reflections blind living in lifespace.

And a Little Fun Too

2005-02-27T18:57:00.000+01:00

Flipping around the net I sometimes get wiser - but not always.

I am beginning to think that it is the pictures I love the most. Somehow they talk to me - without all the words and all the hassle of understanding all the words (and then trying to remember 'em).

Knowledge has to be internal before it works. It has to be personal and relevant.

The eye sees it all - immediately - relevance or irrelevance.

I regard my little computer as a scrapbook. I borrow pictures and diary-entries from others. I move around whilst sitting down.

But then I must move my body in the world - because only if knowledge is useful is it useful.

Time Flies

2005-02-27T18:56:00.000+01:00

January lasted 3 months, February was like a week.

But I don''t know if time moves (or if it is mindthatismoving).

And sometimes my MIND just sits still - like hitting a lot of red lights in a row. Grrrrrr.....

Or too many tasks one after the other - waiting for me... Blowing my mind like the staccato of a machine gun.

The quality of time is beyond my powers.

The Unpredictability of Human Behaviour

2005-02-18T15:07:00.000+01:00

There can be no science of LifeSpace when the set has the size of one.

Patterns are inventions of the mind glossing over the differences. Our tool is the STORY filled with narrative tradition and idiosyncratic style ranging from ghost stories to fairy tales and the cliches of our tribe.

The Disappearance Act of Thought

2005-02-18T15:03:00.000+01:00

Let's say that you make an important discovery about the secret of life and it can be said in few words. You write the words the down (all the better to remember with).

You are pleased with yourself - after all you are the owner of a new insight, and it churns around in your head a couple of days. And boy does it explain a lot.

And then you sort of forget it. You read the note and it all comes back. And then you sort of forget it, and you read the note and it doesn't quite mean the same as it did. And it doesn't seem to explain nearly as much as it did.

And then you have completely forgotten all about that, because you are making a new note that explains everything.

And so it goes.

The understanding of LifeSpace disappears. The continuing absence of understanding is bottomless - only an echo reaches the top.

What is Important?

2005-02-12T12:00:00.000+01:00

Good question.

Suggestions are welcome...

How about comfort?

I think this word can be stretched to encompass what is and is not important. I don't think I have other suggestions.

Words Are Rubbish

2005-02-12T11:58:00.000+01:00

Imagine, if you will, THX rumbling bass and a theatrical voice with trained pauses telling us that there are 1500 volcanoes in the world, we know about. There is danger in the air and under our feet. We can feel it. Now the voice tells us that there is at least one volcano, we don't know about. THX makes it easy to become more anxious about this thing, that is present, which we don't know about.

But how do we know it is present, when we don't know it is present?

A little later a youthful voice tells us, that this is good stuff. It will blow your brains out. "I saw fairies for three days."

I don't want to see fucking fairies.

(With thanx to Infected Mushrooms)

Catching Up

2005-02-05T11:14:00.000+01:00

January has been DownTime. The lights have been out.

February has the promise of returning light.

Next year I am going to follow the Sun. (I promise myself this each year - and seem to forget it - until it hits me again.)

So: What have I been thinking about?

A nice thought yesterday was "Starting and Stopping Time". Caught in the traffic we were starting&stopping and flowing all the time. It was effortful and it seemed like a good "equivalent" for this Stuff Called Time.

I hate changing directions. I hate stopping and starting. I hate a lot of tasks waiting for me lined up in the future.

Time should just flow. When time doesn't flow - you (I) get stress.

So the name of the game is LifeStreaming. Just bubbling along without too many goals and stops along the way.

I am still trying to keep my New Year's Resolution: Lift Light. This is not easy. But some of my thoughts along the way have been:

1) Amateur doodling is better than professional tasking.
2) My field is ideas and they decidedly don't have to work on the world. Ideas do not have to move Things. Ideas move ideas.
3) No hurry No pressure - the slogan for a HiFi store gives also purchase in the real world.
4) The Age of Plentitude gives another psychology than Times of
Scarcity. An infinity of ideas obviates the need of being right.
Abundance gives tolerance for Mad Mixes. Criticism is unnecessary -
something better is just a mouseclick away.
5) Projects of Self-Improvement are illusionary in a World of Misery.
6) The world works things out. Chopping firewood, locking my cycle and washing up are OK. Otherwise the world does fine on
its own.
7) An artist works with his own subjectivity. Scientists work in teams. All those Bright Scientists are getting it right. I think I will
get me it wrong.

Not bad for a dark and windy January with Gods own PowerCut.

SAD

2005-01-30T17:51:00.000+01:00

Seasonal Affective Disorder is indeed a sad, sad affair. January hits me worst. The smallest hurdle is enough to knock me over. Matchsticks on the road make me groan in the extra effort necessary to lift my foot over them.

Last year it all stopped the first of February. Suddenly I knew it was over. There was enough light so I could breathe, lift my head up and shoulder my burdens. I didn't need to stamp my feet in rage, cry in despair and fall asleep at nine o'clock in the evening.

I use a "light-box" flooding my system with photons. It helps - but not enough.

I watched the light disappear this evening - at around 5 in the afternoon. It was a wonderfully slow process. The branches of trees black i silhouette and this watercolour blue tinged with salmon pink reminding my nervous system of times gone by. I resonate. I resonate and I hope this natural cue is better than my "depression lamp".

Two days from now I hope to be released from my prison.

See yah.

Misery & The King of Time

2005-01-15T11:59:00.000+01:00

Science is the present-day-knowledge we use to "work with things". It gets us to the Moon and puts spectacles on our nose. It is a knowledge we share with other workers in the field. Scientists are team-workers. It is a knowledge that works. With a linkage of causes and effects it does expected things. Within this definition carpenters are just as much scientists as doctors. It is a knowledge which is not obsolete. Its test is whether it works and whether it works better than earlier attempts. This knowledge of causes and effects has all to do with THINGS. Things are what you can put in a wheelbarrow (however large or however small).

LifeSpace cannot be put in a wheelbarrow (however large or however small). LifeSpace is not an area where causes have linear effects. Signs (patterns as interpreted by the mind - if and when they are perceived) and their idiosyncratic reading can have effects expected and unexpected. In other words LifeSpace is not an area where knowledge works. The knowledge of LifeSpace is not hooked to the physics of things. Expertise becomes a matter of style unfettered by the resistance of things. In this infinity of unfettered explanations there can only be "subjectivity". My way and your exceptionally different way of screwing things together and screwing up.

LifeSpace offers and receives no solutions. In this miserable life things do not get any better, but they have a way of working themselves out without and despite our interventions.

Withering Heights

2005-01-11T16:46:00.000+01:00

In a way it is very obvious that we have the Divine Right to be, well, right. As the centre of the universe we "know" and are convinced that we know.

But then the centre doesn't hold. It falls apart and we no longer "know".

We discover our mortality.

Small creatures who talk a lot, buffeted by the wind, we lose our centre. Distributed points thrown in all directions.

We can help each other or we can fight each other.

Decoherence

2005-01-11T16:45:00.000+01:00

Reading blogs you get the impression of infinity. There are so many people with so many keyboards. It is impossible to encompass this breadth of "word-strings". We cannot read everything, nor can we know everything. We are one voice in a sea of voices, with only our 1 way of formulating language and the world.

In this sea of voices it is easy to lose our way. It is impossible to create coherence over this cacophony of sound, and it is all too easy to lose one' s own coherence.

Self-Improvement

2005-01-11T16:42:00.000+01:00

Follow the programme. Get better. Every day in every way. Follow the next programme. Get better. Every day in every way.
Follow the new programme. Get better. Every day in every way.

After 30 years you discover that none of this works. None at all.

Not getting better. Not today and not tomorrow. And in no way.

So what do you do?

Stay the same. Stay lousy and messed up. Do it all wrong. And be miserable about it.

The Importance of Being Obedient

2005-01-06T20:55:00.000+01:00

This is a big one. This explains a lot, as we do it (obey) all the time.

Routines and traditions (life-scripts) explain what is expected of us - and we obey. All of us - even those who mistakenly think they are the ones giving the orders.

We do not readily admit to being so obedient, nor are we aware of it. Indeed the lack of awareness would seem to be necessary condition for social functioning.

Those who do not obey are outside of the Frame. They are outlaws - without the LAW and a pain in the ass for themselves and others.

I Saw the Light

2005-01-02T17:18:00.000+01:00

Walking the dog at the end of the day I discover that there is more light than I had expected. Gratitude and Thanks flow through my body. I look at the light and breathe it in. There is more light - everywhere.

Back at home I keep getting these jabs of surprise, when I see that it is still not dark.

It is a turning point the first time you notice, that the light is on its way back.

Performance

2005-01-02T17:17:00.000+01:00

Our uniform defines our performance. Patterns of thought and speech flow from our position, our title, our role, our job, our task.

We say those things that are defined by what we are allowed to say.

We say those things again and again.

We don't say anything else.

Windmills of the Mind

2004-12-29T19:31:00.000+01:00

The world is not as it should be. People are not as they should be.

After a very long time I got used to this. There is nothing or very little I can do about it. Familiarity has thankfully reduced the scandal to a shrug of the shoulders.

And I save a lot of energy in the process.

Hide & Seek

2004-12-29T19:30:00.000+01:00

Walking past a sandwich bar I saw a girl sitting by the window. Talking to a girlfriend she had her sandwich in her hand above the counter. She had taken a couple of bites and there was a lotta lettuce sticking out.

She caught my eye as I walked past and the sandwich was hastily lowered. It like disappeared beneath the counter.

This is where the fun begins for a psychologist as this unusual occurrence triggers an interpretation (for my eye).

The girl hides something of value (she is hungry). She has taken a couple of bites so she has "broken bread" - some of it is in her and some of it is outside of her.

The young girl hides the object of value - it must not see the light of day (or the colour of my eyes). This she can only give to someone special.

A mature woman would have no reason to hide the sandwich. She has already given her valuables away and such treasures are a long way from the foreground of her mind. She would have to be helped to rediscover "the box of treasures", so she once more could play hide & seek for a short sharp second.

Shocked

2004-12-29T19:22:00.002+01:00

I read on the net, that lemmings don't rush in flock and hop over a cliff side ( when stressed and overpopulated).

I am shocked.

This was a cinematic construction by Disney in the 50's. It made for a good film, which travelled though out television's brave new world (I saw it as a child and it made a deep impression). It became a meme for an awful lot of people, probably because it was so counter-intuitive. We knew it was Wrong - but experts don't lie and we saw it with our own eyes - so it was Right.

Now, not everything on the net is true, so maybe this correction is a new virus. I cannot tell.

But somehow it rings true that the metaphor of a lifetime - something that has coloured my perception of people - is based on Disney's Dirty Tricks.

Lemmings are no longer lemmings.

I am shocked.

But maybe I am now free to create a more positive life-picture.

Lemmings cuddle and enjoy the view. They walk with care past the deadly cliff. Lemmings as anarchists- Yes - they don't just follow the leader.

Shocked

2004-12-29T19:22:00.001+01:00

Shocked

2004-12-29T19:22:00.000+01:00

Line & Sinker

2004-12-27T18:41:00.000+01:00

A new reality show is on its way. Two men and a woman. The two men love the woman. The one man (her original partner) is waiting for her in Las Vegas (getting more and more uptight and jealous) whilst she is driving across America with a useful idiot and a film crew. He is of course black and she is of course white.

She has been catastrophically married before to a very famous star - so the scene is set.

She gives a teaser to the press: "I am confused".

She loves the stud in Las Vegas but the black guy is fun (and probably well hung).

So the Lady is Confused.

Now this is a line in a million. It is a Myth come to visit us like a Hitchcockian heroine who appears long enough to catch you attention and disappears when you turn away.

You are hooked.

Confused....?

Tune in next week...

Try Whistling

2004-12-27T18:39:00.001+01:00

An environmentalist threw this one-liner out: "There are so many good things to be done....." He didn't think we should be staring at all those things we can't change. No, he thought we should be doing some of the good things we could and should be doing.

I would like to adopt this orphan sentence and make it my own.

Problems?? Up to your neck?

Try whistling....

Me & Me

2004-12-27T18:39:00.000+01:00

The subject of psychology is oneself.

Now, I am trying to cure myself of making generalisations, so let me rephrase this. The subject of my psychology is myself.

I do not see how it can be otherwise. And thus i cannot generalise.

Patterns that Connect

2004-12-27T18:37:00.000+01:00

Something happens here and something else happens there. Sometimes they are connected. Tit for Tat. Balance.

The sound of a tree falling in a forest / You are listening.

The dog that doesn't bark / The detective that notices.

Bang / A bird fall downs

Stimulus / Response

We are the pattern that connects.....

Merry Xmas

2004-12-24T08:32:00.000+01:00

It says it all. A very simple phrase and a nice sentiment.

It cheers you up just to hear it and just to say it.

We don't actually use the word "Merry" very much any more. After Christmas it seems only to be applied to inebriated situations.

So this is the season of inebriation.

Saturated by the chemicals of darkness, we do actually need some inebriation....

So - "Merry Xmas" - the alternative is hibernation.

UPDATE: Our day has increased by 3.5 seconds. Merry indeed.

Want Your Photo Taken, Luv'?

2004-12-24T08:31:00.000+01:00

Sneaking a photo of a person isn't always right. A portrait is flattering but a sneak shot is .... well, sneaky. Parts we are not used to come to the surface.

The snapshots of a psychologist are just as sneaky. They are not the studied elements of a portrait studio; they are the rough edges of the unwanted and unseen.

They disturb.

Studying the social is a very asocial task. The social fabric will punish the asocial.

Thus social observations which focus on the individual belong to a deeply private hobby. They are not the coin of the realm. They do not pay the bearer the promised sum.

When a private hobby is published it becomes counterfeit.

Oddly enough I suspect that anthropologists, who also study and observe, do not awaken the wrath of the group. They confirm the social fabric, thus making the individual pay. They are honoured guests. We are traitors.

The Taste of Words

2004-12-24T08:28:00.001+01:00

I think we all have different relationships to words. Each person will of course have their own cloud of associations for each word. Words do of course mean different things for us. But I am trying to get at something different.

Language is probably my way of relating to the world. What I touch (hard things like the table, soft things like the glance in your eyes) is swiftly mediated by language. For me the world IS language. (I know, I know - that is nonsense, but I am talking about how I function - not how how you function - my non-existent reader). So language is important for me. Violate my language and you violate ME-AND-MY-WORLD.

This would upset me and upturn my applecart. All those red apples tumbling about is disorder and I have to do something about them.

So I navigate my world thro' the charts of language. I have to choose my route carefully. The Map is the Territory. The Word is the Thing. I Bump into Words. (Sorry).

The quality of my world is dependent on the taste of my language.

I bet you have a Different way of doing things that is just as Crazy.

Flows by Itself

2004-12-24T08:28:00.000+01:00

It would be nice if things just flowed by itself. As we said in the sixties - Don't Push the River.

But is seems that there are so many things "that have to be done". Groceries, dusting, jobs, phone calls etc..

At school we have to pass our exams. We have to study. We have to brush our teeth.

We have to go a walk with the dog. We have to talk to our wife. We have to remember .......?

It would be nice if things just came and went by themselves.

And maybe they just do that! And we don't notice it.

Ohhh. Have to Blog.

UPDATE: On the other hand there are many "things I don't have to do".

I don't have to breathe - I just do it. I don't have to become rich. I don't have to achieve anything. I don't have to correct you. I don't have to help you.

So things are FLOWING here in the holiday season.

Pass the turkey, please. (YES YOU DO THE WORK FOR A CHANGE.)

ROM

2004-12-24T08:25:00.000+01:00

Blogging on the long tail is a "read only memory". Blogger provides an extern hard disk with the possibility of random hits. Thank you, Blogger.

This is not publishing.

This is a jogging list for my own memory. Just like recording the weather, the stars, or our observations of nature in a leather bound diary read on a wet summer's day by our grandchildren.

"Why did he bother?" they will ask. "WoW! What a lot of effort for something that is so long ways away."

It is another world, I describe. Not theirs.

Though they will repeat my observations. It will also rain in their world. The stars will also come out and cause wonderment. Spiders will spin dew-dropped webs. Lovers will hold hands and a child will skim a stone into the ocean. First time for
him. Last time for me.

Same old, same old....

Loose Thinking

2004-12-21T22:02:00.000+01:00

Received a letter from England today. The stamp had a picture of Santa on it. No surprise here: But there was a surprise: Santa was carrying an umbrella and it was raining.

This must be silly.

Global warming is one thing, but it has no relevance to iconic tradition. It isn't smart. It isn't clever. It is stupid.

This can only confuse and disappoint.

Madonna with a crucifix and Santa with an umbrella.

Marketing has no bounds. But people do. It just gets so confusing......

UPDATE: I hear that Santa's sister will be doing the rounds next year, and dressing up as Santa and bingeing on the town is all the rage.

Alas Poor Yorick

2004-12-21T22:00:00.000+01:00

An old friend of mine (haven't seen him in a couple of years) did a humpty-dumpty from a skyscraper the other day.

Tried to fly.

Didn't work.

Plummeted instead.

Don't know why he did it.

We have some details - but no facts. We will never have a complete story. I don't think he had a complete story either.

He was one of the last people I would have expected to do such a thing.

Maybe none of us are safe. Maybe none of us know ourselves????

It seems like a very dramatic way to go - at least for us who are left behind. It is difficult not to see a message (in the bottle) tho' perhaps it is just smoke in the air.

As my wife said, "Did he have money problems" - no. "Then it must have been love".

A sixty year old man should probably know better - but I think my wife is right - tho' in a very complicated and devious way.

Alas poor Yorick....I knew you well.

Late Summer

2004-12-19T17:06:00.000+01:00

It occurred to me (suddenly, as occurrences occur) that a young man can call himself "philosopher", "economist" "whatever", as they have read the books and written their papers. They are up to date. They have filtered lots and lots of information. They have formed a view, and the world needs their help.

And help is to be found in the texts. And help is applied (from the texts).

But the help seldom works. More reading. New solutions.

This becomes an obsessive hunt. Solutions looking for problems.
And then middle age sets in.

Cherchez la femme becomes ridiculous. All cherchez becomes ridiculous.

So we can no longer position ourselves as "economist", "psychologist". We no longer have the energy to play that losing game.

We are just ageing men who don't want to do any more damage. We jingle our keys in our pocket and look for them a little dispirited under the nearest streetlight.

Old habits die hard.

But what name can I give my new position?

A "Zeroist"???

I no longer add anything to the equations. I probably don't take very much away either.

Write to be Wrong

2004-12-15T21:42:00.000+01:00

I have a standpoint; you have a standpoint. We see the world from a different place.

We are both wrong.

So there is no need to fight about it as our perspectives are and remain radically different and are not the real thing.

SlowTime

2004-12-15T21:41:00.000+01:00

Caught the morning show today on TV. The host was eating a little morsel cooked in the TV kitchen. He munched it slowly and I realised that that was essential for his success.

He does everything slowly.

He is kind. He is gentle. And he is SLOW. Nice & Comfy.

I am sure when he gets home he rushes after the cat and beats it up.

Snapshot (s)

2004-12-14T23:47:00.000+01:00

1) A young woman - in her prime - is skipping over a grass field. She has no clothes on. A black triangle blinks midfield. We capture her frolicking, a wispy garment blowing from her hand. She is young and without shame. It is all quite natural. We are going back thirty years in time, when innocence ruled and there was a lightness in the air.

2) The same woman 30 years on has shorter hair. Her nails are painted. Today she is a serious actress and she regrets her youthful follies.

3) Today she could not run over a grass meadow and frolic.

This would be obscene.

4) Though I am sure she could participate in a documentary film on nudism or model for an artist. Her purpose would be to educate us about the frailties of being human. Gravity would have the upper hand and it would all be very heavy.

5) But ooooh it would be a challenge for a lover to replicate that snapshot and convince her to run again with blissful abandon. For a short, sharp second she could be young again and throw her hat into the air and reveal her Bermuda Triangle. And no regrets.

6) This would be a triumph of age over beauty. This would be an achievement and not a gift any young girl can duplicate.

The Codes of Life

2004-12-12T13:26:00.001+01:00

Breaking the Code - we get the answer. We penetrate the veils.

But life has many Codes. And the Codes are themselves Coded.

Maybe we can just let the veils be there and make sure they are prettily coloured. After all who wants all this nudity.

You Have the Right....

2004-12-12T13:26:00.000+01:00

To be stupid.

As the long time sufferer of an academic education it has occurred to me that I am always obligated to be judicious. If there is something I don't know, then I have to find it out. I have to choose my words with care, because I am schooled in being careful and right as far as my lights can see.

I have finally come to see that this is a burden of delirium.

How much nicer to not know: To have no obligation whatsoever to be logical, reasonable, orderly, tidy, witty and clever.

In a word: To be stupid just like almost everyone else. If the book is boring - throw it away. If the question is impossible - don't answer it. If it is a mess - walk away.

My answers have no more clarity than another's. I have no longer the responsibility of being cleverer than you.

Maybe we can hack our way through life: Together. But I am not doing all the work anymore.

Ceci n'est pas

2004-12-11T14:33:00.000+01:00

Having god on your side means you are right. Your rightness means you do not have to follow reasonable laws of cohabitation. Persuasion is not necessary. Monologues are enough. Rightness gives the right to preemptive strikes and the exclusion of dialogue.

Text as Collage

2004-12-11T14:27:00.000+01:00

What pretty colours. What strange juxtapositions. This pleases. This pleases not.

Pretty pictures do not have the burden of explanation. The thread of meaning does not lie in the argument. There is no authority. At best there is a spash of recognition.

Like taking pictures with a toy camera. There is no expectation for perfection or rigour.

Just Do.

And Enjoy.

FanFic

2004-12-08T21:05:00.000+01:00

A log of wood makes love to a poker in all the wrong places in a blaze of flames, whilst an innocent vase is forced to look on and weep petals.

Names can vary as in Harry Potter meets Dr. Spock.

No on second thoughts that wouldn't work as two different universes shouldn't meet. That would spoil the illusion.

There is a lotta libido out there. I do remember. But how about a little honesty. Bring it back to where it belongs, baby, and charge it with reality.

Otherwise it is narrefisse.

Running on Empty

2004-12-06T20:11:00.000+01:00

It's destiny.

You see something in a shop window - and you want it. You crave it. Your life will not be the same a without it.

You meet a pretty face, a mystical smile and you are entranced. This is the myth incarnate. She smiles; she encourages; she is attentive; she makes you feel special. Your life will not be the same with or without it.

Wedded men with children lie sleepless in their beds at night and think of her. They obsess. They are possessed. Confirmed bachelors want children with her.

She attracts. She encourages. La femme.

But what can she give you that is not consumed in the fire of passion? What can she give you that is not eroded whilst waiting in line at the supermarket checkout the fifth Friday in a row?

What can she give you, if she has nothing to give?

What if her mystery is empty.

What if the only thing she can do is exactly and only the thing you see her doing now.

Hypnotising.... Promising.... And not delivering.

The Myth incarnate is an illusion. A China Doll in a window that does not belong to anyone and does not need being taken care of despite the wonderful expression on its face - because another sucker is just around the corner. And he too wants to buy into it.

When you meet her on your way - Jingle your money and Walk on.

Weather Report

2004-12-06T20:08:00.000+01:00

Humour: Permanently Cranky

Playing: The Sound of Silence

Colour: Violet speckled with Red and slashes of Yellow as seen on Mars. It like hits you in the face as in a sandstorm.

Corn Flakes: Crisp and floating in cream.

The Dog: Wants to go for a Walk

Teeth: Newly Brushed

Shoes: Need Polishing

Language: British English (as remembered)

Fragrance: Wisps of intentions meeting with longings

Fingers: Hitting the Keys

Gimme Some Truth

2004-12-04T20:52:00.000+01:00

I think we meet "truth" when we hear something new. When the unfamiliar collates with the familiar we have suddenly found some "truth" - for a while.

The truth value will then abate with usage and we will await a new collection of sounds that entertain.

Simple Harmonic Motion

2004-12-04T20:51:00.000+01:00

The weight of breasts necessitates the invention of repression. To bear the constant jogging of sexual attraction requires the ability to forget.

Once developed this ability has many uses.

SMS

2004-12-04T13:45:00.000+01:00

Modern technology doesn't always solve our communication problems. Rather it creates new problems.

People can hurt others by sending a message or by not sending a message that is expected. We can be hurt by sending a message that isn't received at the right time.

Being online radically increases our chances of hurting by misinformation.

The noise is greater than the signal.

Xmas Party

2004-12-04T13:43:00.000+01:00

To go to a Xmas Party is like being in a cartoon. All the usual things happen and afterwords you can Find 5 Mistakes you made yourself.

And then there is the BUZZ of it all. Working together usually means annihilating the sexual urge. But suddenly it is allowed. Women are dressed differently. You gotta like notice it. They are displaying.

But what is it all about?

Mostly a storm in a glass of beer. Nothing happens. Nothing can happen.

The clouds disperse leaving us fresh to take on another workyear.

Older and wiser. Again.

The Cat's Whispers

2004-11-30T21:35:00.000+01:00

Does a cat have the intention of washing its face by wetting its paw? Does it have a plan?

Or is it just something that happens?

Simply a genetic response to a disturbance with nothing in between.

Thoughts in the Attic

2004-11-30T21:22:00.000+01:00

A BOOK is an authoritative figure. A book contains secrets - only known by the few.

Thus we read books to become one of the few. Books are written by One.

Blogs are written by Many and read by Many.

Thus blogs are democratic. Knowledge becomes granular. Multiplied and not owned by anyone in particular.

This is terrifying for Some and comforting for Others.

A Homeless Psychologist

2004-11-28T13:09:00.000+01:00

I do not belong to a body of knowledge. I have no ready answer. I have of course many "bits" but they have to be shaken and stirred before they fall into place. And then they can be contested by "anyone". And sometimes the centre holds and sometimes it doesn't. And of course I contest my own bits a lot and forget them and so on....

So.... I am still a little bit curious and people are still strange but I have no expectation of finding an answer.

I am a psychologist who still wonders, but my answers are few.

Or all too many.

A King at Nightfall

2004-11-26T19:33:00.000+01:00

I saw myself the other night. A version of myself that is 8 years old on an video. I was talking with some friends.

I didn't like what I saw.

I think (and hope) I have changed. But maybe I won't like myself 8 years hence....

You Never Know.

I have changed because the "Flow-of-Life" has changed.

I have a dog now. I care for another creature who is dependent on me.

I work in a team - before I worked alone.

I have learned more about not being enough in myself.

My self has been constricted. Other factors decide. Such as my garden. The hole in the roof.

I have become older.

This is What I Could

2004-11-26T19:24:00.000+01:00

I do ask myself sometimes, why this blogging?

I enjoy reading other blogs. But no-one seems to enjoy reading mine.

I think I have noticed that we all more or less have our one theme. And I think my blog has already shown My Theme.

This is my way of organising LifeSpace.

Nothing BIG. Just my way of collecting words into my sense of order.

Every day gives another challenge. Every day shows that my words from yesterday are not quite good enough today.

But I don't think my theme changes. It is constant.

So.

This is what it could become.

You Choose

2004-11-22T19:55:00.000+01:00

In a Duel between The Secret of the Universe and the Master of the Universe - which would win?

Let me give you a clue....

The SoU wakes up and in the morning and is a little unsure whether the secret still resides in her - perhaps it disappeared during the night.

The MoU wakes up and is tired.

The following conversation takes place:

"Am I still the secret of the universe?"

"No you are not".

Is the female secret more powerful than the masculine negative entropy?

No Rules No Gurus

2004-11-22T19:53:00.000+01:00

OK let me concede it, I am a psychologist by profession.

I thought up a new definition of a psychologist last night. A person who wishes to introduce Balance into the LIfeSpace.
LifeSpace is life as lived. Teeming confusion filled with arbitrary order, opinions, greetings and everything that can be packed into Life''s Attic. Part of this space is governed by rules - socially held rules and privately found ones. But most of the space is just ..... lived.......

A psychologist doesn't really understand this space. It is a constant puzzle for him and thus he can't just take it for granted.... or behave normally.

Muzzling over this puzzle year after year (is quite taxing) but just maybe gives him an edge in being able to say something new about it.

Don't get me wrong. The psychologist is not being a change-agent here (that is for the young - who want to change everything and everyone), he is just weighing in - sometimes even tipping the balance probably by being a little awkward in the social space.

He probably feels awkward too.

But LifeSpace as an object of reflection does give some privileges.

LifeSpace 2

2004-11-22T19:51:00.000+01:00

The Life Space cannot be acquired in a hurry. It is primarily lived experience.

I will not be teaching courses in it.

And my LifeSpace is quite modest and quite idiosyncratic, so probably not very much use to you anyway.

5 Important Things

2004-11-20T17:43:00.000+01:00

We live in our own world
We can only talk to people who share many of our world's features
I am not right / I am not wrong
In some sense we make our world
But we never do it good enough

Geese and Polarity

2004-11-20T17:39:00.000+01:00

It seems we can't avoid splitting ourselves up into two groups - the "right" and the "left". Our right hand doesn't usually fight with the left hand. The left side of the body also seems to co-exist peacefully with the right side of the body.

But groups seem to polarise themselves into warring camps - boys and girls, hardliners and softies, structuralists and anarchists. I think the list is endless. What is good for the goose isn't good for the gander.

These two groups will have radically different ways of doing things and feel uneasy in the company of the other. I don't even think they can talk together. Words can be exchanged - maybe even pleasantries - but as soon as possible we are on our way to our equals.

We can of course take a "metaposition" on all this (jumping to the vertical dimension instead of the horizontal). But at best this can only be indifference to the opposition. Which is probably better than fighting and spitting.

I don't think either side can win. I don't even think either side is right. Perhaps it all boils down to anxiety. The other side gives us angst. And I think structure is an important variable. The one side has an anxiety for too much structure and the other side has an anxiety for too little structure.

Top-Down is another important positional metaphor, but that must wait for another time.....

The Consequences of Abundance

2004-11-19T19:04:00.000+01:00

I for one would rather have a sharply shaped pen costing pennies than a Mont Blanc.

I was actually quite cheerful when I read about the demise of Brands. That's nice I thought, because how many things do we really need? How many more disappointments can I bare?

In a world where hierarchies are (slowly) crumbling the attribution of identity and status no longer needs the scaffolding of branding. Quality is almost universally guaranteed by engineering and digital copying encourages equality and the expectation of something for nothing (and chicks for free).

Value is based on scarcity and a vertical scaling. I think the long tale of blogging, teenagers producing their own music with GarageBand and shopping centres filled to the roof with boxes of things penetrates the dream factory and rips the mirrors away from the great illusionists of our time.

Well just a little bit.

Perception as an Icon of Thought

2004-11-18T19:57:00.000+01:00

Two fighter jets screaming down the runway. They lift off at exactly the same second with exactly the same angle. They are black, sleek and powerful. They bank at the same moment and fly away.

I''ve always thought that this was a picture of friendship.

Actually seeing it, that was the only word that came to mind. I SAW friendship. Co-ordinated dependence and it hit the eye as a complete package. I thought what I saw and I saw what I thought at one and the same time.

Our brain is the organ of our eye

The Die of Rationality is Printing Us

2004-11-18T19:56:00.000+01:00

All those cars on the road to work. I was suddenly struck by their identicalness. In each range every model was a true copy of another one that had just zoomed past me.

This is the wonder of engineering but it is not the wonder of being human.

This identity of THINGS forms our consciousness and we are losing our originality.

Not Alone

2004-11-18T19:54:00.000+01:00

Driving through town on a winter morning, our headlights dazzling our tired eyes, I saw two very young school children on their way to school. It was dark and cold and they had just crossed a pedestrian crossing. They held each other by the hand and dashed along the pavement. They were each other's safety.

In a very large world they were safe because they had each other.

Anyone want to give me their hand???

What I Do

2004-11-14T19:09:00.000+01:00

I am trying to find out what I do for a living: What my profession is called.

I ran into a Blog the other day. An artist of my age who collects things from our childhood. Toys, postcards, bric à brac. He makes collages. Colourful cut & pastes.

Objects of sentiment. Very nice. Very cosy. Colourful.

I have no idea how he makes a living out of this. But he is industrious and serious as well as being joyful and playful.

Unfortunately this is not my métier.

I think I make "objects of serious conversation" for my living.

This is actually quite funny cos I hate to converse and I don't even like talking very much.

My objects disappear into the air. I no longer remember them or have a record of them - tho' sometimes the other part does - and tells me about it many years later.

It isn't very cosy. Nor is it very nice or colourful.

It just is "What I Do".

Conscience Dictates

2004-11-14T19:06:00.000+01:00

Gotta admit I made a mistake (another one).

Mark Knofler's new record "Shangri La" has gotta be Record of the Year. It is subtle, sad and swings.

First time I heard it, I thought it was rubbish.

My judgements are subtle, sad and swinging, too.

Small Ideas

2004-11-12T09:13:00.000+01:00

Time has overtaken Big Ideas. Long complicated explications of one big idea is no longer de rigeur. Many small ideas with a short shelf life have outcompeted the tyranny of professors. Nor can the small ideas be rated in a value-hierarchy. They are each others equal. We can turn them on or off at the flip of a mouse.

Press Return.

Regardless

2004-11-05T18:32:00.000+01:00

It occurs to me that I cannot influence your search for perfection. Regardless of my arguments you will continue: Good days and Bad days.

My experience cannot be formulated so you can benefit.

There is no shortcut which can be said from me to you. Language won't do it. Neither will a short sharp shock such as a leave falling from a tree.

You will continue and I will continue. Doing our thing.

Regardless.

Whatever

2004-11-05T18:31:00.000+01:00

What can you say:

When you are beyond the Language-Game?
When you no longer can participate in the Game of Games?
When there are no words to say it?
When you know you are "saying" it?
When you you have said it - and you were wrong?
When you said it - and it didn't help?

What can you say.

A Retired Spy

2004-11-05T18:29:00.000+01:00

Cheating the Social Fabric as a way of life, such as a spy must do, "in-forms" the man. He is used to choosing his words and gestures with caution. He is used to Deception. He is a One-Man-Player in a Multi-Card game. He Smiles while pocketing the Tip.

On retirement how can he return to the Fold.

He is Alone.

What is Important for a Rabbit?

2004-11-05T18:26:00.000+01:00

It occurred to me whilst I was snuggled up in my bed a lazy Friday afternoon and the first winter storm was raging around me, that I was warm and comfy. The log stove was winning its struggle. Electric light was burning around me. Food was waiting in the kitchen.

I was one lucky Rabbit. And there was no hunter around.

A rabbit in nature would be so lucky.

But then there are words. Rabbits don't talk. Rabbits don't vote. Rabbits don't blog.

Words for humans are more important than comfort.

Thereby Hangs a Tale

2004-11-03T17:08:00.000+01:00

Let's pretend that there are 4 million active bloggers. It is not going to be possible for any of us to read them all. So there are a lot of "information-agents" out there; putting information out and hauling it in.

We are out there hanging onto the tail - or the tail is hanging onto us. There are more and more of us coming along with our "bits and pieces". Like a garage sale. But we can only be in touch with a few.

There can be no point in trying to collect all the bits and all the pieces for there is no one piece that is vitally important.

Nobody knows more that a percentage of the knowable. Out on the tail we are all equal - and one person's knowledge can be completely different from another's - so there doesn't even need to be any overlapping.

Of course the distribution curve has still a middle. They do not listen to the tail.

But the Bell is diminishing and the tales are getting longer.

Find 5 Mistakes

2004-10-30T11:48:00.000+02:00

It is a mistake to find mistakes.

(Nothing good comes out of it.)

OH - I've just found one.

Incidentally

2004-10-30T11:47:00.000+02:00

Many young people today no longer take exams. They no longer fear the Rubbish Tip. They no longer answer correctly. Instead they take 6 months on Bali and live under the coconuts. When they come home the take a lowly job at the local tank station and publish records, books, clothes with their own equipment and money. They no longer crave status as measured the old fashioned way. Hierarchies are broadened out. Values are levelled.

Examinations

2004-10-30T11:46:00.000+02:00

I hate to think back to the time when it seemed that my whole future was dependent on the result of a forthcoming exam. Answering correctly you passed. Answering wrongly you failed.

Failure led directly to the Rubbish Tip (or so one thought).

It seems that modern management techniques when applied to intangibles (such as social work) are quickly deriving a set of examinations.

It isn' t the clients who have to swat and sweat (they are just plain impossible and continue on their merry way) - no it is the personnel who have to answer - correctly.

Now it isn't easy to formulate experience - it is much easier to formulate inexperience. So all correct answers must necessarily be based on inexperience.

Thus experienced personnel fail to an interview and must be put out to grass.

Living in UnReality

2004-10-30T11:45:00.000+02:00

When you can no longer predict what is going to happen next.

When everyday rules of contact, common decency and talking sense are subject to unilateral reversal by people with the power to enforce it.

Then you are no longer living in Reality.

You are living in UnReality.

This is a serious defect (and the product should be returned under guarantee). Or go out of the door, breathe deeply and take a walk in Reality, where collisions with hard things hurt and rain makes you wet.

Or just give up and let it happen, because you can't force Reality into UnReality.

Once is Enough

2004-10-26T18:22:00.000+02:00

Walking in town today I see a man limping in front of me. He stops at the greengrocers and exchanges some words with the owners. They say go-day and then he says, "It is more cold today, than it was yesterday", and then I was past them and walking on.

It struck me that this was a person of lesser intelligence striking up a conversation in his town. He belongs here. He is sharing something important with his fellow townsmen. As a barometer of the climate he is telling himself and the locals that all is well, and we belong here in a well ordered world. This is an important function - for him - perhaps also for his listener.

He is not just saying - it is cold (or warm) today. He is comparing. He is measuring. He is making sophisticated conversation at the edge of his powers. He is contributing to and taking from the social capital.
But he doesn't hear himself. He doesn't hear his script. He doesn't hear his role. It is not embarrassing for him to say these clichéd words.

In an uncomfortable world he is making comfort.

He does not care tuppence for recursiveness.

Recursivity makes you shy. Recursivity alienates you from your town. I left my village at eighteen.

The modern consciousness is always making statements. Statements filled with style (and complicated flaggings of reservation and intertextual winks) which prove our worthiness.

My man with the limp didn't know this. I didn't get to tell him either.

But do let me trump them all.

"I am more stupid today, than I was yesterday."

Right or Wrong

2004-10-26T18:20:00.000+02:00

It occurred to me - that maybe I've been wrong more often than I know. Maybe I've been right less often than I think.

I am used to weighing my thoughts - an ounce here, a pound there. So I am used to relying on my conclusions.

But maybe my weights are all wrong.

AND

Even more radical - there is no way to know.

So don't rely on a word of what I say. I am learning not to.

False Promises

2004-10-25T20:59:00.000+02:00

I read a blog last night and I wanted to chastise him. He was being hard on himself and I wanted him to stop chastising himself. But then I realised that I was the next one doing the chastising. And I don't think that type of thing works. Programmes of self-improvement just don't help. Long soliloquies from myself or another on what to do are wasting our time.

We don't improve. We age. Like a fine claret or a piece of soap. Things happen. Edges bend. Troubles depart.

Chastising is just a little bit of self-drama. A mere entertainment whilst other things happen.

Bounded Snarls and Unbounded Fun

2004-10-25T20:57:00.000+02:00

I do not like being constrained. I am probably not alone in this - but I suspect that it is a little stronger with me; this aversion to being limited.

We are bound to breathe, follow the traffic rules and pay our taxes. And we say go-day to our neighbour and stand in line; and one million other trivial things we do without grieving.

But things out of my control that steal my time annoy. They tie me to something I don't want to do. They are taking something from me. My time? My freedom? My sovereignty.

And there is an awful lot of that going on.

Supermarkets with their forced and trivial choices, their plastic covers, their plastic bags make me snarl. Heavily laden with the goodies, I place them in the cupboards and fridge. One after one and I snarl.

I would like to have a little more unbounded fun with my time. Servants where ar't thou?

The Earnestness of Being Important

2004-10-21T09:17:00.000+02:00

I have gradually come to realise that I am not very important. Once upon a time I thought my opinions were important. It was important to do it right, think things out and do it "my way".

I could make a difference.

So I was obligated. Things had to be put into the right box at the right time in the right succession.

Maybe it did make a difference.

But not anymore.

Boxes and Boxes of Things

2004-10-21T09:00:00.000+02:00

Let's say you have some extra money - cash. Let's say you want to buy a camera. You drive into town and visit an "electronic wonderland". You look at all the wonderful machines. Some small. Some large. Some black. Som silver. Some both. 3 Mega-pixels. 7 Mega-pixels. 3x zoom, 10x zoom. Optisk/digitalt??

How do you turn it on?

How do you zoom?

How do you choose?

You offer cash but want a discount - the consumer is after all King. They look at you in disgust and ask you to take a number. There are some life-scripts I no longer understand.

You want something of value. One of these things can become "MINE". But there are so many of them, and in 6 months the thing-you-are-proud-of is obsolete. But don't worry - step right up and take a new number for all these things (things-of-the industrial-age)are waiting for you.

But they are not mine. They are never mine. If you get them home you never find out how to use them 100%. They continue to belong to the Digital-Age, the Informational Age - someone else....

I didn't buy anything. It was too overwhelming an experience.

Boxes and boxes of THINGS.

Dream about them, yes - but don't buy, for the things of our world have conspired against us.

Branding is fun. Dreaming is fun. But don't buy. The disappointment is too great.

Dragons Die Too

2004-10-18T20:10:00.000+02:00

Where dos't the Dragon's Power Lie?

Quite simply and with the minimum of force and fuss, by submitting its underlings to the violation of rules.

In normal conversation if you break a rule it's going to be pointed out. And then you say sorry and the conversation continues. No apology - no more conversation.

But if the other part is a dragon, then you are not allowed to point it out. You have to suffer in silence, bite it in you. No matter what the dragon does it has right and might on its side. YOU are the culprit if you do not accept the changing rules as set by the dragon.

The dragon breaks legs.

The only point of weakness (and thus the only point of attack) is an implicit denial of her power. To never acknowledge her power removes her control. Regardless of the baits and the barbs and the switches and the injustice -Dragons are also mortal - and do not deserve one little bit of recognition. Like a balloon losing air they just shrivel up and die.

Dragons and Power

2004-10-17T22:15:00.000+02:00

"Power" seems to me to be more and more an old fashioned idea. It is not a quaint idea just an obsolete idea. People telling other people what to do and when to do it. It is actually an obnoxious idea.

Power is a dead metaphor from a physical world of brute force (apes hitting each other with bones) and escaping steam from dangerous machines under pressure. Without due respect the machine will blow up, thus fear is power's accomplice.

Power is the pleasure and measure of small egos. In the schoolyard older pupils boss the younger pupils.

I always think of the alpha apes who are deceived when they turn their back (and all the apes indulge in illicit sex). Power requires constant vigilance and/or the selective ability to turn a blind eye.

Getting things done to day no longer requires POWER but more a form for "generous communication" by which I mean non-invasive attitudes and kind words and a helping hand.

There is no longer a vertical hierarchy. There is no longer only one way of doing things.

So dragons of power with your bad breath and your fiery fumes from an acidic stomach - think horizontal or go away. NOW.

But of course they won't and they don't.

So the only other solution is to leave the field.

That's Showbiz

2004-10-15T20:14:00.000+02:00

Imagine this. I am sitting with a client - we're talking somewhat intimately - he's telling me things - I'm sorta listening, whilst the television is churning in the background. It's an American show with the name something like "Dr. Jim". He's doing therapy with multiple couples on a weekend titled "Righting Ronged Relationships". I am doing something similar in real time in another language.

So I'm listening to American therapy whilst doing Danish. Jim's accent is homely. He gives an aweful lot of commands: Do this...NOW, do that...Now. My client is talking, I'm nodding, I'm listening, words are colliding, I'm writing this note, I'm talking to a colleague in the theatre of my mind. Jim's clients are crying - this is really helping -my client has just asked me a question.... what did he say?... Jim's explaining ... his audience is listening with big round eyes .... my clients waffling... my mind is wandering... Jim's clients are being cured - the blind are walking and the deaf are singing ... I'm answering my client in English... he's getting annoyed... Jim is purring - he knows what's wrong and what you gotta do...NOW.... my client has found a new topic that is very interesting for him... Jim is harvesting the infinite thanks of a grateful audience and is smiling modestly to the camera... my client is enjoying himself... I'm good company - at least I don't interrupt... the audience is nodding... the ronged are drying their eyes. Jim comes with a tip for the day....WoW that was stupid.... my client has just launched another anecdote from a more exciting time... I look surreptitiously at my watch.

Afterwards Jim pays a call to his bank - I think there is a smile on his lips. I get a free ride on my client's scooter.

MegaBytes

2004-10-15T20:12:00.000+02:00

There's a million ways to say "I'm sorry"

There's a million ways to say "I love you"

There's a million ways to get to Rome.

There's a million ways to say a million things.

So we don't have to insist on being right, do we?

Magic Moments

2004-10-13T21:56:00.000+02:00

It does rather sound like an advertisement - "Magic Moments" but I am trying to capture something else. The moment of added value when the sky's colour impresses, the corn flakes crunch, the jigsaw piece fits, and a problem disappears. A simple tale about a dragon can make everything alright again - not just for a little boy but also for an adult man. A semantic kaleidoscope turns and a pattern connects. This is magic and we need magic. We need the hope of a reality that once in a while opens up and smiles - defying logic, gravity and sugar that decays teeth.

These moments don't come on demand they come unexpectedly and we smile back.

Doodling & Wrangling

2004-10-13T21:55:00.000+02:00

Let me borrow a word from Bruce Sterling - "wrangling". There are lovely overtones in this word of gritted teeth and a world resisting my endeavors. He is talking about real-and-imaginary objects with enhanced capabilities that make living more easy and more difficult.

On the table in front of me there is a small calendar, a pen, two mobile phones, a Dictaphone two notebooks and a laptop. These are all instruments of communication and connection. Do we need to guess which of these objects I "wrangle" with?

I recently switched to Apple. The aesthetics attracted whilst the new operative system repulsed. Describing software as intuitive is based on familiarity. Newness is strangeness and nothing is obvious. I wrangled a whole evening and night and early the next day I drove back to the shop and returned my iBook. Then I wrangled for two weeks trying to find a replacement. This didn't work and then I bought an iBook again. But this time I was prepared (I thought) and after a whole evening's wrangling I was prepared to drive back to the shop - again.

45 minutes on the hotline early the next day (talking in a neighbouring language I don't really understand -Swedish instead of Danish) solved the first big problem - more or less though I had to ring to my internet service hotline, who thought I was joking.

Then of course there is no manual to modern computers. Asking the help file a question is however not a doodle its a wrangle cos you don't know the right terminology. The wrong question gets... no answer at all.

I have learned to love my new computer, but doodling is more fun than wrangling

Bits and Pieces

2004-10-13T21:54:00.000+02:00

A friend tells me that many of my blogs mention something in the world and then a little chunk of thought. Entanglements involving bits of the world and pieces of thought.

This seems right somehow. I have no wish to drive through an arid desert of thought without meeting the world and its limitations. Equally the things of the world have to be enhanced with a little thought.

So this is my game - and I didn't really know it.

Here Be Dragons

2004-10-12T21:56:00.000+02:00

Let us imagine that you are enforced to be in the company of someone who is not very nice to you and there is no way out. Dialogue (talking about it) proves to be impossible. Rages and rants are then tried but the other is better at it and is not beneath using unfine methods.

This is a draconian situation.

Here be dragons and the dragon has power over you.

So what do you do?

After being quite unhappy and powerless for some time a thought can suddenly appear - like a shooting star.

Dragons thrive on blood. Warm blood. Sprouting fire they relish their opponents fear and thrive on the anticipation of the fight.

But the poor dragon can get hungry.

A little saucer of milk put out in the backyard at night is a kind gesture. The dragon is welcome to drink it or it can fly on to a new backyard where the promise of blood is stronger.

Here be dragons not - and thus works the milk of human kindness.

Time's Fool

2004-10-10T20:36:00.000+02:00

I have a suspicion that other people have more time than I do - I mean quite literally clocks in their universe go slower so they have more time do more things than I do.

Clocks in my universe rush along and I rush along with them. So if I write on my computer there is a lot of other things I am not doing. And vice-versa.

So I am not going to be leaving many monuments behind.

Whatever

2004-10-10T20:34:00.000+02:00

Imagine going to an alternative treatment. He lives a long way away. His house is dirty. His clothes are torn. He makes money by cutting wood in the forest and selling honey from his kitchen. He pummels muscles and energy lines with oiled fingers. He talks about this and he talks about that - maybe they are therapeutic narratives maybe it is just the sound of his voice. He charges almost nothing for this service. He doesn't really promise anything and he is not really selling anything.

I have no idea of what is going on here. But it is a good set-up and nothing will probably not happen.

The Failure of Success

2004-10-10T20:32:00.000+02:00

What has happened to the man Mark Knofler? As a young man he had bite and musical energy. Today he is depressed and depressing.

Does success give melancholy?

He no longer give us hope but only despondency. Why oh why?

Or am I being too hard on the kid.

I am listening to his new record in the background and maybe it isn't so bad after all. My tastebuds jump all over the place and I can't rely on them either. Luckily it was my wife who bought the record. I am sure I would have thought that I had wasted my time and money, if I had bought it and then I would be playing frisbee with it.

Yes - let's make music from rich guys free.

One Down So Many More to Go

2004-10-10T20:28:00.000+02:00

In my limited experience I have made the following discovery....

(Now that's an interesting sentence, isn't it?)

I have a hunting dog and it's her instinct to ... well... hunt. So I tag along - sometimes with a camera, but never with a gun as I no longer wish to take life. It seems there are two types of hunter.

One preserves nature - participating in and taking care of "Gaia" Being at one with the clouds, the grass, the hills, the sweat, the exertion, the hunting and the hiding, the living and the dying. It no longer matters if nothing is shot. Walking on this earth is enough.

The other is the active agent of death. The point of the exercise is to kill. It satisfies to take life. The supremacy and the power of switching on/off. This is the one who always comes home with a carcass.

One down - one up and Thanatos wins.

Diamonds in the Dirt

2004-10-05T19:38:00.000+02:00

Sitting in my car I was looking at the driver in front of me. A lady with earrings dangling from her ears, and I began to wonder about the point of this invention.

Dangly things from a woman's ears?

And I realised they draw attention to themselves and they accentuate the movements of gravity not unlike other attributes with playful motion. In other words erotic substitution.

And then I got to thinking about men with small diamonds in their ears - perhaps it was a gift from a girlfriend.

Again this is a little thing which seems to be saying an aweful lot more.

For their true-loves these men are diamonds in the dirt.

The Grass is Greener

2004-10-05T19:22:00.000+02:00

Reading American blogs I discover that Americans (who write my type of blog) take a week's holiday to the coast, renting a house with the family and perhaps some friends. Maybe they even go back to the same place every year. Every year?

This is almost unthinkable for a European. It is definitely quaint and almost certainly Victorian.

We have 6 weeks holidays and we must get on a plane and fly as far away as possible.Then we come home and talk about how cheap the red wine is and how clean the hotel towels are!

And the prices my dear are cheap.

How I long to return to olden times.

The Name of the Game

2004-10-01T14:51:00.000+02:00

A summer's day. Young people are playing in the park. It us an unusual game because there are no rules - except one - "there are no rules". They are throwing blocks of wood with different shapes and patterns over the grass. Once in a while a player is congratulated on a fine throw. Enthusiasm is large. It is obvious they are playing in earnest.

Bystanders watch this interesting game unfold and slowly they imagine they know what is happening.

But they don't.

What fun.

But who is playing whom?

Gunk

2004-09-27T19:48:00.001+02:00

Events are trundling along. Many worlds are possible.

I make an observation, by which I measure the meaning-sphere.

This collapses the events into my world-view which then collides with the events and makes them different.

My significant others are doing the same.

We are players influencing and being influenced.

We decide the field.

This is War and Play.

Rebels start young

2004-09-22T08:36:00.000+02:00

Driving to work I saw I passed two schoolboys each with at neon baton standing on opposite sides of the road. Their job was to stop traffic (with the aid of the bright yellow paddles) and help younger children cross the road safely.

There was a lull in the "child-traffic", so they began playning imaginary tennis, sending their imaginary ball back and forth over the roofs of the passing cars. Elegant shots - loops, lobs, serves and swerves.

They were MIMING. They were PLAYING. They were ACTING. They were PERFORMING. They were EXAGGERATING. They were SMILING. They were COOPERATING. They were REBELLING.

They were making a boring job a little more fun.

But if an adult with authority had seen this, they would have to be stopped. They were not paying attention to their task. Children's safety was at risk.

Rebels die young.

Repitition

2004-09-22T08:34:00.000+02:00

I know I am saying the same thing again and again.

One voice. One message.

And the message is me.

Secrets

2004-09-22T08:28:00.000+02:00

Sometimes I think that there are no secrets. Noting hidden, nothing hiding. We play with open cards (if only we could see them).

If I have nothing to hide and if nothing is hidden from me then........ things would be EASY.

I do not know something you do not know. You do not know something I do not know at least where this "something" is important.

Maybe secrets are trivial and the rest is easy.