Like many of my peers I have live in awe at the deeds and distinguished courage of my ancestors, father, uncles, grandparents’, that marched willingly in the hail of machine gun fire, slowly and steadily to preserve our heritage. Even those brave souls who through religious or social convictions felt obliged to refuse to fight through their deep held persuasions, showed inordinate bravery to be true to their beliefs.
I listened to the tales of daring do when and if they were presented, ever with humility, abstractness, with emphasis on those unfortunate comrades who gave all they had to give stoically, selflessly, as faithful brothers ever should. Most impressive was always the volume of silence any gathering of these old warriors would shout to the present and future, an cacophonic warning of the horrors they endured so that their descendants might avoid such terrible privations.
For a month each year immediately before Armistice Day I solemnly wear the poppy in my lapel. In memory, gratitude, as required by duty, responsibility, fidelity.
One of the wonderous things about the English language is that in its complete form it is so expansive, full of subtlety, choices, variances, shades, exactitudes, and can be if used with correct application describe an exact meaning without chance of misunderstanding, confusion, hidden meaning, if carefully formulated and annotated by someone of the necessary skill and education to accomplish such a task. The basis of the British legal and political systems are thus correlated and has successfully withstood any attempted misuse of the systems for a millennium.
These considerations, acts, laws. were originally transcribed into print by religious bodies, as their organizations including persons of an educative level and accepted honesty to be trusted with such a vital and illustrious task. Later, when religious views and political opinions became inextricably knotted, a new independent branch of the government was formed, a civil service, instituted to produce such documents without fear of favor, outside influence, or external pressures. Thus a mutual understanding between layperson and elite was ensured, making rules and principles relevant to the highest in the land as well as the lowest. Such measures cost one King at minimum to lose his head for being too arbitrary with his understanding of the law.
There are constant calls of a simplification of the language used, that is should be written by less aloof persons, in everyday jargon. Thankfully such demands are seen for being exactly what they are, a means to make rules, laws, commandments, momentary, constantly changeable, open to personal opinion and inference, without any independent review or oversight.
Since residing in the new world, I have fallen foul of the sometimes-vague use of a reduced vocabulary in the construction of statutes and decrees, proving that the common man’s diction cannot fulfill with the clarity needed an exact reflection of the purpose and intentions of the ideas contemplated. It do occur that the reason for the cloudy nature of scripts is to create uncertainty, an ability to mask precise meaning, exact parameters, creating space a for a professional band of otherwise pointless individuals, who simply speechify, pontificate, and grandiose themselves, ad infinitum.
Exactly which fictional character I best represent is open to decided variation as my persona does change monetarily, or perhaps simply I am but some hybrid bred from the literary genes of numerous incantations. Obviously as a figure most tragic or horrific, not the pantomime fool I endlessly attempt to imitate, for my plots are decidedly more twisted that convoluted, painful rather than torturous, ever falling short of the fulfilling climaxes they so erroneously are inclined to starkly promise.
Human existence is a play inclusive of numerous acts, not particularly well formulated to lead to a defining conclusion, or a transformation scene most wonderous and enlightening. Rather life bumbles along, heading stutteringly forwards without apparent purpose or destination, until does manage to find the threshold of the next episode in the series, or alternatively, and equally likely, a fateful conclusion.
Every individual is in the peculiar position of being acter and audience simultaneously, a most confusing division of responsibilities, leading to endless farce and embitterment.
Disability is a word I have been obliged to become very familiar with, the meaning, derivation, effects physical and mental, The way it affects obviously and subtly an individuals interactions and connections with society, both general and singular.
I am wholly obliged for the strenuous labors performed by medical and social personnel who have forced society to become multi-inclusive, rather than judgmental and divisive. No doubt there are still great strides to be made, but comparatively to the near past we exist in a world largely open to all, without the burdensome addition of penalty or critique for some arbitrary condition.
We who share the tragedy of less, for that is what any disability do daily present, the consistent need to bolster the portion we can personally gift in this seemingly endless struggle accomplish complete equalization. Perhaps most tryingly having the wherewithal to appreciate the trials and tribulations of those more able, whom do indeed have their own particular burdens to endure, whilst hopefully showing an equal degree of dignity and forbearance.
Life is by its very nature is a struggle, a constant fight for base survival, creating very essence of human evolution.
I do recall when I was younger a mystifying absence of the disabled, the general manner in which the afflicted where hid away, as if the very sight of them might somehow induce a curse of unfortunateness to fall upon the more proficient and fortunate remainder.
One of my favorite aunts was imprisoned in a wheelchair. She wore calipers of both her legs, in response to a condition I was never permitted to know anything about. She sat in her chair from dawn till evening tide, very close to an upper floor French window, looking hopefully forever outward, at the miraculous world beyond the glass, a place whose freedoms she would never, ever, be allowed to experience.
Such is the shame of our civilizations behaviors in the not-too-distant past to our most dear ones, against whom blame was so cruelly leveled for simply being the innocent victims of much pain and suffering.
For their heinous sin of daring to be, for surviving, does most sadly seem to me.
My capacity to be shocked by conversation has increased quite profoundly. Was a time I found it easy to turn a deaf ear to almost anything, inclusive of profanity, ignorance, stupidity, accepting that this was the cost of mixing a humanity whose qualities of politeness and taste are tainted beyond hope of redemption. My weariness with these faults has multiplied lately, perhaps mine own difficulties communicating have highlighted the true banality of much I listen too, indulge, attend, recognize.
Casual gossip I totally embrace, harmless asides indulge most happily, indeed, chatter can be most welcome if the only regular voice experienced is your own rattling around aimlessly inside your cranium. I do make a point of listening to others religiously whenever I can, to simple breathing if nothing more is available, cos even that is a proof of a existence beyond the solitary. As good as reason for owning and cherishing companion animals as any.
Humans do not do well in insolation. ‘Tis a torture most cruel, a punishment well deserved for the squandering other choices.
I attempt to be more or less an open book, share my present experiences and circumstances as they transpire, without presence or dramatic effect, as I have long decided that honesty is far from the most conducive manner of being. Anyone wanting to know whom I was, from whence I came, will be largely unlucky in that pursuit, for the mystery of my making remains shrouded in the darkness it well deserves.
The few that knew me well two or three decades ago are quite as fleeing as me, hard to pin down, explore, for we all lived in a time before social media, pre-google, the unfortunate invasiveness that is the internet, when rumor and hearsay where explicitly more truthful that was particularly comfortable to admit.
My perspectives reflect the scars that have been deep carved into living flesh by circumstances, chance, happenstances and interaction, a whole glossary of life, love, pain, pleasure, tragic losses, and joyful gains, The seven ages of man gathered into one living, breathing heart and soul, dissected, and displayed for your edification.
Occasionally I am forced to confront the depths of slovenliness that individuals will allow themselves to sink too. I am constantly horrified by the overwhelmingly huge number of persons whom barely comprehend let alone achieve the lowest rank of the civilized. Laziness is a disease of mind and body, quite obvious to a keen observer, through the perpetrators appearance, demeaner, clarity, ability to integrate into a society expectant of certain standard of behviour physical and intellectual.
Judgementalism is frowned upon in a society obsessed with inclusivity, privacy, and human rights. Fascinatingly such realms whilst seeming superficially equalizing will often allow extraordinary disparities in the acceptance and integration of races, sexes, classes, religions, or political perspectives.
Self-betterment, pride, ambition, perseverance, are never truly negative qualities, but can be easily classified so by a bourgeoisie clamoring, bitterly wrestling, for acceptance in some endless financial hierarchical struggle.
I go to great trouble to avoid suffering the sin of gullibility, to a point where I often am obliged to be overly questioning, appear suspicious, aggressively cynical. This defense is not a position chosen from a trait of character, rather the simple realization that persons are in general inclined to present positions that whilst vaguely feasible are in actuality entirely false. erroneous, intended to mislead, misdirect, connive, exploit, dupe.
Was a time such cunning deceits were the province to the immoral politician, a comedic artist, an exceptional actor, anyone whose stock in trade was so cruelly of playfully impose their own chosen reality upon the spectator, the victim. for intrinsic gain, joint amusement, or perhaps just a means towards some form of twisted personal satisfaction.
With hand of heart I can state with honesty that I would adore to be able believe every morsal dribbling from the mouths of complete strangers, such would make the universe much easier at endure with positivity and open mindedness. But todays fashion is to promote skepticism, incredulousness, uncertainty. C’est la vie.
Imagination, illusion, make believe, are wonderous things, to be cherished, adored, nourished, constantly, unendingly. I exercise mine generously, allow them to flourish, expand, communicate, through all my senses, to rule nn many levels, to lead the heart and souls on a soaring journey of enlightenment.
Being a weaver of fantasy my vivid capacity for invention allows a wonderful range of absurdities to spout forth from any seed thrust into the soil of my furtive mind. A most useful coincidence of fate, a happy benefaction of otherwise unfortunate inherent delusion. My stories always have a touch of the absurd, even if they are entirely factual, for there is nothing more ridiculous than the whole truth when met head-on in a cataclysmic collision.
A constant challenge is the relationship between any purposeful falsehood and the unconscionable mortal sin of lying, a differential only mitigated by intent, whether the purpose is harmless, say to entertain, or downright evil, to use, abuse, chastise and belittle.
There are certain habits I continue that indicate exactly my linage, coming as they do directly from my parents and prior antecedents. I have never pandered to these echoes, in fact for many years considered the thought of being typecast, branded thus, quite appalling. Apart from my obvious more than slight resemblance to my father’s linage most of the hand-me-downs would be virtually unnoticeable to a casual observer, but to me, being a product of the genes, they are most obvious, bordering on the irritating, definitively spooky.
My voice, when twas still powerful and clear, was most distinctively familial, my cough and sneeze are still powerfully identifiable, my yawn is exactly the same as the previous two male generations at minimum.
The greatest sameness’s I keep very secret, for these include the thoughts, prejudices, inclinations, that are ingrained into my every consideration, and scar my eternal soul. These generalities I cannot erase, only control, fight against, apologize for, ensure they never gain the capacity to overwhelm or dilute my better nature.