Little Piggies in a Pen

Woke up this morning realizing just how cynical and negative I have been lately.  There are a thousand reasons to be that way but the biggest one is choice.  It is my choice to let the world get into the fiber of my being and reek havoc.

Cynical is an outlook, an optional way to see the world.  Often a result of the way the world has been going. You would think after all these years of internal mental observation I would have better control but I seem to be slipping. Well it is time to slip back.

Waking up feeling a little better for a better nights sleep.  This is not to say that the government has changed its ways.  It is still not a full democracy.  It still looks after the rich and terrorizes the poor. It is the blind eye it turns that is the most appalling.  Playing stupid does little to bolster the faith the majority has in it. 

Better the devil you know, they say.  Not I.  Not when it directly attacks the columns of support – the little people.  It does and we as the people are shoved into thinking that we can have little effect as individuals or groups.

The bedroom tax that is about to go into effect isn’t the worst idea in the world if it applies to ALL. Apply it to everyone and it is easier to see the benefits.  Apply it to the mansions ,the castles, the three,five or seven bedrooms. But they can’t.  Think of the money  that the mansions would be paying out for their twelve extra rooms or for multiple holiday homes. They can't because Money would scream and cry and throw the toys from the playpen and the government doesn't listen to the masses it listens to the Money.  

But it is what we have asked for by standing down and letting it happen.  Keep the little piggies busy so they have no time to think of how they can change things.  Keep them worried about their own little lives so they have no time to consider the bigger picture.  Keep them dependent on our FREE gifts and distracted with stories of morality and horse meat so they won’t see the needle as we the government slip it in to draw that little bit more blood. Keep them preoccupied so they won’t have the time or energy to expose our true ineptitude for governing.

How long will it be? When will we find our voices and our strength, before the Stressgun meets our foreheads and we are just another causualty of the governments slaughter house. As we struggle to prop up the world chained in by our struggles hemmed in by those who want to protect their freebies who are imprisoned my the money mongers, while the blood is sucked out little by little until the stress puts that deadly gun to our heads and we are freed. A causulty of a world who doesn't even know we existed.

You just want to scream  ‘Come on little piggies, look, see and then let’s do something about it. Yea, righ!.  Why get out there and get busy when we can watch our television and be entertained.  Why make our minds work when we can let them lay lazy and watch. 

Not such a bad idea. Laying and letting life bleed slowly away might be the way to live but how long have you seen things continue before something causes a hiccup or a full spew into the works.  I wonder if the Bookies are taking bets on when the world is going to flipflop. Wonder if I will bleed out before it does.

I would not say I am a doomsday prepper but it I do find pleasure learning little things that might help me to survive.  Not that surviving some apocalyptic event is something I desire. No, it is much more desirable to let those with real gusto to do that.

I thought about it for years and I am of no mind having to actually to survive and reinvent my place in some new world order.  Let me go and be reborn to it.  Much easier to work with something if you have never know any different.  Chicken shit thinking but then that is a label, which has not weight with the dead.

So I think I am truly feeling a bit chipper this morning - Can you tell?  Yesterday following that dream where I could not breath. Where I know I had stopped breathing in my sleep long enough and was deep enough in sleep that I had to shock myself awake.  What better way to do that than to dream I was suffocating and I was.

Last night I suffered what seems a lovely night's sleep and my assignment is to find good things to write about.  Not real fluffy stuff, but some nice, strokes gently perhaps of the joys of a pet I have had. Not that I want to give up on the sinister in my writing but I need to.

I need to think of Sammy and Sophie (Muscovy) and all the pleasant memories they shared with us. I need to think back and remember those happy memories because there are many and they shouldn’t be wiped over by the bullshit bad things that I have no control over. My Grandchildren, my painting, my writings, so many worderful things to think on, time to practice what I preach to myself.

I need to be patient there are things happening which are tumultuous but will resolve themselves with time.  I am in limbo and it is a bad place to be for me. Slap me with it good or bad but don’t leave me floating in suspense.  Floating is mind bending – I hate it, even when I know that is my problem, it is hard not to succumb to the panic I feel inside.  It makes me lash out and I am more controlled than that.

So this morning’s light musings will hopefully be the beginning of a better grip.  I will be a little bit more honest with myself on my limitations.  A little restrained honesty with how I voice my opinions.  I am working at core values and to change core thinking in others is not an easy task and of no real desire to me.  People tend to lash out when their core beliefs are attacked.  I attack mine daily. It is an assult that has been ongoing for all of my adult life.

They are how we judge or are judged by the rest of the world and I want mine to reflect me as the complex individual I know we humans are.  I want to reach in and nab that one thought or statement that molded that particular personal trait and give it a good shaking to make sure it can stand its ground.

I have been avoiding that recently hiding in the self indulgent pity of being only one voice and unable to assault the masses to make them see … screw the masses (for now) I need to assault myself and take care of mine own.

I need to quit worrying of othing thinking I am presenting myself as a better person to others or trying to outshine them.  That is their interpretation of my actions not my intension.  It is important to celebrate others accomplishment but do not let that foreshadow your own right to feeling accomplished too.

(A moment in time and time doesn't stand still even for me.)

Politics and Union

I need to discuss politics.  I need to know if there are others out there who are interrupting the governments promises, actions and plans the way I am.  Or am I just being all paranoid, narrowminded, scaremongering.  Your concerns may or may not coincide with mine as the most important to me but the your major concerns may be my minor concerns and visaversa. Two voices are better than one but how are we to know we have similar concerns if we never discuss it. <sigh>

The idea that friends acquaintances, associates and strangers should avoid discussing politics (and religion but that is another subject) is a sure fire way to keep them safe from those (thinking and sharing) voices joining together in protest what is wrong and what is right.

I went to our local Unison AGM and heard something inspiring.  I am a bit apprehensive of unions with all the stories and myths surrounding them but they are like any large body of people.  In any large group there will be the extremist, the fence sitters, the thieves and those with agendas but I would imagine that the majority are real honest caring people who want good for the whole. 

Remember that old saying about one wrong takes three or more rights to balance it. Honestly one wrong can destroy what a thousand rights have accomplished. He held a relatively high seat in the national committee and his message was this.

We join Unions to support each other.  Not just to make improve working conditions and protect our jobs on an individuals but to support each other in the same objective.  The fact that someone in London is suffering from bullying in their job may have no effect on my working conditions or job security but as an individual I can stand behind that individual and support his right to work without being bullied.   

How reminiscent of the old days when we would band together to help our neighbors.  There are still remnants of these days even today in the old fashioned barn raising or the pizza painting party when you invite you friends over to help you paint and offer to feed them. 

That was the foundations of the unions way back when.  For a small fee you had a thousand voices to support your need which was often a need suffered by many. I disagree with some of the over the top ideas that the unions have nurtured over the years.  There is shooting yourself in the foot for unrealistic demands and there is working out the best of a bad situation.

Is it a good idea to push for a living wage with a council that is having to make cuts to save money.  Living minimum wage is nice idea but to raise the level of pay for one pay grade would require that everyone be given a rise to keep the grades in their distinct pay grades.  That is a little unrealistic.

I wouldn’t want a living wage if it meant that others would have to lose their jobs to make the difference in cost.  Many might think why do I care but that is how we should care and look after each other. But for all the things I may disagree with it is the Unions ethos that we join in a common good to support each other – I believe in that.  Seems a shame we cannot do that on our own in everyday ways but I remain hopeful.

My Contribution

All this disruption I have been suffering in my thinking, my anger at the way people are acting, the greed, and disassociated way people are treating each other has made me look for a way to play my part in making little changes.  I have an idea and if I can afford to do it, because I doubt there will be few if any to contribute their time to this, I will.

I have written several picture books in my lifetime and they are nothing incredibly special.  They are solid little stories with cute characters.  They might be good enough to publish but then only children with money or parents who spend time to take their kids to the library will have a chance to read them. 

I want anyone who wants to read them to have access to them.  I would like to say I could print them myself and give them away to kids who have no access to computers but that is beyond my means. Maybe someday.  For now I am planning to put them, pictures embedded with the story, onto a website.

It will be a simple site that the kids or their parents can flip the pages one at a time and read the story. This is not about making money; it is about sharing.  We used to share and help each other and some of us still do.  

I come from a time before the government built had built so many fences in free programs that we were trapped into their commence pen forgetting how to make our own way.  So many feel trapped and afraid to take a terrifying step away.  It is a scary step to take, I too have had to depend on government help and those first steps away were scary but I took them. 

Sometimes the desire to have everything taken care is nice but like when you quit something you have a dependency on you begin to realize how much better you feel.  How much freer you are to make choices that do not threaten your safety net.

When I was younger, a family of my own, atTthanksgiving I would make a dozen pumpkin pies.  I would buy Halloween pumpkins on Halloween eve when they were cheaper and prepare them to be used in thanksgiving pumpkin pies.  All but 2 or 3 of these pies were for the neighbors.  Two days before thanksgiving I would start cooking so on Wednesday the kids and I would take one to each of the neighbors. 

Why?  Because they were good neighbors, friendly and we looked out for each other.  It was how neighborhoods functioned.  They weren’t like family but it was like a neighborhood family.  Looking back I never thought about the real importance of knowing your neighbors.

Anyway back to my plans to make a little change.  I want to give something, something from me, a little of my imagination.  I want to share with my new neighbors – the world.  I want be one of those out there in the world to let children know there are some people who still have time for them. That sharing is something we can all do it little bits without feeling we are bleeding our lives away for others.

This will be a little volunteering I can do.  My hat goes to all those who have time or find the time to volunteer.  I love writing.  I don’t get a lot of extra time to write with work, etc, so this will be my way of volunteering my time.

This is a plan, which will involve the need for illustrations, which I will do for lack of an illustrator.  I can draw and do basic painting and will do my best. Hopefully someone will come along and save the public from my artistic endeavors and do some illustrations for me.  We shall see and I will remain hopeful.  I know I will not be the first to do this ,and hopefully won’t be the last but it is a little something I CAN do.

Whining and complaining is not the same as doing so doing is going to be a focus.

There is one thing I have not thought of.  As sad as it is not every child has a parent or person to read to them.  When I have it all ready to upload onto a site. I want to find a happy voice to read the story for a You-Tube video.  This will not be an excuse not to create some quality time with our kids but it will make it available to kids who have no one to read it to them.

Wish me luck.

'Wrongs' are Winning

Christmas 2012

Sometime Last Christmas … Somerset UK.

Something came on the news about security in stores one evening. My husband, prompted by the story, began explaining how waiting for me to join him a few days back, on the high street, outside a local food store, he was watching the security man at work.  A group of yobs (young aggressive males,  ‘boy’ spelled backwards ), going in (one or two at  time) taking bottles of cider, beer, whatever and trying to walk out and the security guy was grabbing the bottles back as they came out.  He asked the security man why he didn't call the police and the guy said they don't bother anymore ... not worth it. The police do little or nothing and they are back the next day.

In defense of the police, their numbers have been slashed and their budgets stretched to strangling but they are not the problem ... we all are in varying degrees ... yes even me.

What a screwed up society we live in to have to suffer such behaviors.  So many rights have been passed on to perpetrators that it is the wrong that is protected; not the ones who are wronged.  Are we so afraid to do the right thing that we do nothing at all?

Scary?  it is all kinds of scary.

 I feel blessed being my age and having experienced the world I grew up in when you got in as much trouble or more when you got home as you did at school disrespecting the rules.  A time when you worried about your parents opinion of you more than the trouble you were about to get into. When your consciousness made you feel as bad as the lectures or even the whipping.  When our world (our parents and communities, as we grew up) taught us  to govern our conduct with our intelligence, not outside forces. A time and place when we were taught to be responsible parts of the communities and ourselves.  When we were taught, that the only person that could put barriers on you, was yourself. 

It was those times when working hard toward a dream or desire didn't always make it happen but made you a better person for trying and doing the best you could.

There is something wrong when you are so afraid to go out and tell the kids that are smashing bottles in the street they need to stop, for fear of retaliation.  A friend went out when he heard a couple young men breaking wing mirrors on the cars as they went down his street.  He didn’t even get a chance to say more than Oy! And two days later there was a brick through the windshield of his car.

There are some lovely kids out there, in fact I would say most kids are good.  The bad ones, which are not the majority, are like a wild pack of dogs with memories and more human rights than should be humanly available.  It worries me to think that my grandchildren will live in a world where we are afraid of standing up for the rights of the majority. I am worried our definitions of what is right and wrong will change places and there will be no more room for good honest people who just want to live their lives in peace.   

As human beings, we have rights, not to be threatened, molested, attacked, victimized or even killed by perpetrators that currently hold more rights than we do.  Sorry but to think that those people who lost their children, their parents, their friends at someone else’s hand have less rights than the guilty, is WRONG.  Those lost lives who will never have rights of their own again but the ones who took those rights, now seem to have boundless rights themselves. And that is WRONG.

As much as this upsets the very core of my being, what can I do to change it?   What can one person do – a nano amount to nothing.  We can analyze the hell out of the problem but where can we start to make changes.  I know I am not the only one feeling this way.  So if anyone has some ideas on where to start.  Please let me know.

I am losing my faith in humanity and there are thousands out there who feel the same.  I know I have spoken of being a troll under a bridge, who doesn’t care but it sounds a safer place to be these days for someone who truly cares.   Someone who cares but out of frustration is lost in an ocean of warped rights and growing wrongs.

An Introduction ~An Old Kind of Troll

Just a test before I start - the Title is from an old favorite Billy Goat Gruff.  I have over the last few years decided that being a troll - the old fashioned one like in the childrens' books, not the ones who chase people on the internet. I liked the idea of living UNDER a Bridge - alone with my opinionated, frustrated, grumpy old self.

For anyone one who uses the word troll as a label for those nasty individuals who harrass others, stop it. What you are mistakenly labeling those individuals as, is not a troll, those people are STALKERS.  Trolls do not want anything to do with people they are anti-social and enjoy their privacy. They originate from individuals who were wanderers. They may want to feast on you but they are not going to go around making it a publically known fact. I doubt a troll thinks that far ahead. It is probably more like ... you happen upon them, they eat you, job well done.

 

As taken from the Oxford online dictionary

http://oxforddictionaries.com/definition/english/troll

Definition of troll

noun

        a mythical, cave-dwelling being depicted in folklore as either a giant or a dwarf, typically having a very ugly appearance. 

 

Origin:   from Old Norse and Swedish troll, Danish trold; adopted into English from Scandinavian in the mid 19th century

 

So if you are reading this please do those concerned in this interaction (my musings and your interpretations) a favor and take my idea of a TROLL from the definition above.  Feel free to throw in additional adjectives like old, cranky, opinionated, smells bad(this one will have to be assumed on your part because the chances of getting close enough to smell me are slim), these and more are acceptable.  Being anti-social gives a troll lots of time alone to think.

This is a platform for my thoughts, rants, raves, dreams, critiques and comments, most of them will be transcribed from the little voices in my head. Love those little voices. They are great conversationalist and quite narky sometimes. I have one little voice that sooths those moments when I need a confidence boost. Another for when my logic has abandoned me and one who likes to go kick butt which often gets smacked for over-reacting (when I think the best solution to my dilemma is to do a bitchslap on someone) and not the last or the least is the little voice that says go ahead and cry - it's ok.

Believing me or what I say is not a prerequisite in life, my only desire is to invoke thought - the who, what, when, where and how those thoughts work in your head, is up to you.

I am not a radical in any shape or form but some of what I think is radically different sometimes. All my musings relate to me and my ways of thinking, not you, sorry I don't know you (most likely).  If I hurt your feelings, stop and ask why what I said bothered you. Don't shoot the messenger (storyteller) or even the message (story), because if it made you think a little deeper. We need that deep thinking and we need those deep thoughts.

I am nothing more than an (old) individual who is occasionally fed up with a world with such bad manners.  Screw etiquette, I am talking common sense bad manners for which hypocrisy and ignorance are the greatest supporters.  We are all intelligent at different things and at different levels. Lets use those smarts to think ourselves, our community and our societies better.


... Ahem well that was a short test ... lets start working on that transcribing, my voices are rumbling.