Superficial Liberalism and Racists

Today I had a very irritating conversation with a dude that could not understand my retweet.  It was in relation to Poland.  He was feigning horror at Poles in England having said they would stay forever, but since the attack in Harlow, they do not think that they will.


My retweet informed him that since sending the 1-2 million workers, and in some cases entire families to the UK Poland has, in the meantime created conditions for the subcontracted employment of workers from North Korea, who work in closely monitored gangs for a very small wage so that the regime gain foreign currency.  They pick people with families, who are at risk until they safely return.  They also employ Portuguese workers, who are apparently willing to work for less than the Polish workers were.


Who decides who the valuable humans are?  Is it Poland, whose politicians have described African immigrants as ‘human garbage?’  Is it the trendy liberal implying that I am a racist?


Members of the Polish government have suggested scrapping benefits altogether, to dissuade immigrants from wishing to settle there, and their sense of nationalism is so strong that they have openly said that Muslims, and refugees from countries such as Syria are not welcome.


To your average British racist/xenophobe, the fact that the Poles come here, undercut existing business, work for less money and send what they do not spend home directly damages their welfare.  British wages are lower, the local culture changes, the appearance of the street changes with populations who prefer to live together in a sometimes hostile environment.  This greatly aided the case for Brexit, since it is perceived that supply outstrips demand.


With my economics hat on, this is not strictly the case.  Full employment is a case of prioritising the case for full employment.  Business does not want full employment.  If a bank requires 6 hedge fund managers to turn up for interview, for example, this means that there need to be at least 40 unemployed hedge fund managers at any one given time.  Hence, the unemployed population must reflect this.  Likewise, if a shopfitting company wish to choose from 200 carpenters for ten temporary jobs, this creates a perceived political requirement for 500 unemployed carpenters willing to work in that particular area.


The EU is a nice idea.  Free movement is a nice idea.  It is open to extreme exploitation by countries such as Poland, and it is certainly highly desirable for companies who want more and more choice when it comes to their employees.  What is not OK, is shifting millions of people from the Polish population to a country which already has an unemployment and welfare problem in order to exploit suffering people from a poorer country.  Hence, we see that the EU is not a good idea for the general population, particularly if you are on the shittier end of the stick.


In no way should these attacks be happening, but if you can imagine what will happen if Scotland achieves independence and stays in the EU.  There are only around two and a half million jobs in Scotland currently.  It will not take much before the Scottish population takes much the same attitude as the poorer English regions to immigration.  Do you really want to see Scotland covered in hastily built housing, crippling native unemployment and circulating currency which is continuously sent to another country?  Even Spain has an astonishingly high unemployment rate now.  This suits business, but people are stifled, from having families, buying houses, starting businesses.  People suffer. The economy suffers.


What irritates me intensely is that you are not allowed to speak about this.  If you do, you are immediately branded a racist/xenophobe.  If I put it to you that eventually you should be willing to share your bedroom with 22 Europeans, would you then understand what the problem is?


I have seen many friends, former socialists, who have gone from heartfelt defence of ‘the glorious worker,’ class hatred and the pretension of solidarity to absolute and very real racism because they are frightened.  They already have very little, and they fear losing it.  The same social classes who both at school and afterwards assumed that I was ‘a snob’ and did not understand them, now direct their hatred at immigrants.  Such is the nature of having very little, fully expecting that the future involves having even less.


The point is that we have an increasingly stratified population looking for things to tut at in the same way old ladies used to tut at the News of the World whilst buying it on a regular basis.  They tut at attacks on foreigners, they tut at people who want to leave the EU, they tut and look for the nearest foreign person they can patronise so that they can then look down their nose at anyone who has the audacity to say “Actually I was first in that queue.”  It is the usual very successful strategy of divide and conquer.  Fear of poor people is only to be encouraged in a conservative world, after all.


So, I ask you, who is the real racist?  The person who chastises you for using the word Muslim, even though you have far greater awareness of the Muslim population than they do and have the vocabulary to discuss it rationally, or the little oik that openly says they hate Muslims and wishes they were not in the UK?  With the latter, you can reason with them and educate them, with the former, you are condemned to silence by their stinking sense of entirely fake knowledge and self-worth. In the meantime, hate groups of other faiths, nationalities and interests feel no shame at all in protecting their interests.


Are you willing to allow your culture to be destroyed?  It would not, as I have demonstrated, take a great deal of erosion for you to view the world very differently.  In Scotland, we currently have the now Marks and Spencers-led attempt to call anything Scottish, British. We have been in an economic war with Westminster for fifty years.  Are you ready for the cultural war which they have already declared?  Once you have fought that, are you ready for the cultural war with the EU which is likely to follow?


Finally, I will leave you with the example of the Andaman Islands, in the Bay of Bengal.  These islands had four untouched colonies.  There are hundreds of islands, but India decided to settle on the occupied islands.  Out of four colonies, three are perishing and losing their land and seclusion to India, who have actually been fairly gentle in their domination of other people’s land.  Only the Sentinelese are likely to survive, because they have refused to speak to the emissaries sent by India.


Nationalism is not all about hate, it is about survival and very wisely protecting yourself. Globalism, on the other hand, is for people who got lucky, feel very superior and cannot see far enough into the future to see their children’s children made slaves to corporations who have long since lost sight of their role serving, rather than dictating to consumer populations.  Cling to your nationalism, because once you have lost it, you have no way back short of destruction of your enemy.



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Letter to Boris

Dear Boris,


I don’t usually do this, but then I don’t usually make a conscious decision to pick anybody.  Work is going reasonably well, and I should be up to date with background tasks in about ten days or so, which means I will be starting the new work.


In the meantime, I am concerned about your health.  To save some time and energy, rather than wasting your time or mine on hints, I think you should get yourself some seaweed, some omega 3 seeds, some wheatgrass and some barleygrass.  Soak the seeds every night, add some green leafy vegetables, some stevia or honey and the wheat and barleygrass, whether powder or freeze dried to the mixture in the morning.  Then add fruit until it tastes reasonably pleasant.  Raw cacao powder is also very good for improving the mineral content and flavour.  Since you are probably being plied with over rich food constantly, please ensure that you eat a green salad with every meal.  You will find that if you eat a tiny bit of the green salad before you start, your digestion will function much better. Try to choose the fish and ignore the potatoes/bread/pasta etc. Your overall functionality should improve in about a week.


I realise that it is not easy to ignore idiots at work, but you are dealing with at least two, so try to work around it.  I have some proposals, which will be included in the charming book I am preparing for you.  This will be released free of charge, since I am not famous, and I do not do this for money as such. (chance would be a fine thing) I will probably release it from the website, so as to retain full copyright, hence it will not have huge distribution.  I do this directly for the person I am writing/making objects for rather than the general public. It is a bit quirky, but perhaps eventually I will learn to like money somewhat more than I do at present.


Usually, I have some sort of emotional event and the creativity takes over because I feel terrible.  You have been selected because I was seized with concern that you feel terrible, and I would like you not to feel terrible.  I hope that this makes some sense.


This oddity was created by my father, who was also an artist and forbade me from taking up art as a living on the grounds that better art is created  by people who cannot help it.  It is a rather repressive way of working, but perhaps this is me breaking out of it. It also seems like a rather good opportunity to return to my academic work, which is highly relevant to you in particular.


I do have a considerable pile of work still to finish from the Wolfe collection, but this will be completed whilst I carry out the Boris experience. It does not mean my attention is at all divided, it just means that my time is somewhat limited.


I do hope that you take my oddness in the spirit in which it is meant, and do get on with those trade deals, regardless of the oppressive shit on a plate you are doubtlessly being kept on a leash for.  It is extremely important.


Thank you in anticipation of your patience.

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Saving Face

Saving face is my topic for tonight.  Saving face is what causes people to ramble anxiously when they don’t really know what they are talking about.  Saving face is what causes suicides in Japan, and honour killings in India, Pakistan and the Middle East.  Saving face is also heavily involved in blame culture.


Note that all of these consequences of saving face are negative.  There is nothing good about the idea of saving face. Fuck your stupid face.


Having spent a decade of formative years in high-pressure catering work, where there is no such thing as saving face, I can tell you how annoying it is to be around people seemingly obsessed with it.  It is very simple – you either get it right or you don’t, and unless you are one of those rare beasts like Boris,  who is not that interested in saving face, despite his career choices, you are more likely to stick with your bone-headed opinion forever like David Wolfe.


Saving face is time-wasting, a product of ego, vain and when you can see through it, extremely irritating.  There is absolutely no excuse for sticking with the same wrong opinion or dearly held belief just because people have been doing it for centuries before you, or because you are trapped in some stupid cultural norm of ‘doing what is expected of you.’  So what if you are a diet guru who digs fat chicks, or a male head of the household whose wife earns more than you do?  Really, so what?


The inability to think your way out of a state of requiring that you must save your tedious face is a sure sign of inane vanity.  It is not something I regard as forgiveable. To err is human, but the divine does not forgive you setting your wife on fire, hurling yourself out of a window or worrying about what your equally stupid neighbours or friends think.


One of the few things America has got right is discarding, to a certain extent, the idea of saving face.  The obsession with money has helped with this.  If you fail, you have no option, as a yank, but to move on and be successful at something else before your health insurance and ‘gasoline’ runs out.  They may be extremely dumb about other things, but acknowledging and moving on from failure is something they do reasonably well. Look at the example of Trump.  They see no reason at all for not voting for a man on trial in two states for fraud and rape in at least one other state! No question of his saving face then!


Ultimately in life, it is imperative to learn how to shrug and move on.  Sometimes mistakes cannot be cleared up immediately, and sometimes they are catastrophic, but you will find out fairly early in life, if you are any kind of person at all, that you are a lot more worthy of respect if you simply acknowledge your error rather than finding someone else to dump it on.


In recent years, it has become fashionable to try to spin your errors onto someone else.  This has been extremely bad for the economy and for talented individuals it is also extremely frustrating for learning.  If you are not allowed to point out and correct errors, nothing can change and little errors quickly turn into enormous disasters.  (The banking crisis being a case in point.)


So, whilst mistakes are inevitable, it is important for you as a well rounded individual to learn from them and take responsibility for them, at least in your own mind whilst you find some poor sap to take the blame so you can retain your promotion.  Remember that cheats get promoted, and the lower in the organisation you are, the more likely you are to be sinfully honest. (see the bagel experiment)


Try not to kill your wife and children, ruin anybody’s life or jump out of any windows.  It isn’t worth it.  Shit happens, and if you have even half a brain you will figure out a way of getting around it.



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Product, Brand and Consistency

Product, brand, consistency
OK, I have made a lot of lazy posts recently, because I was feeling a bit low due to a crap diet and feeling a bit browbeaten.  I think it is time to get back on track really.
Conclusions I have drawn from the last two and a half yearsIf you are marketing yourself with no money, consistency is key.  Putting yourself out there takes dedication, daily attention and perseverance.  In the absence of a budget, you need to set aside about two hours a day for getting your name out.  It has been said that people need to see your name around nine times now before they notice it, even if you have a shit hot product.
Books do not make money unless you have an established name.  This means you either throw some money at creating a brand, or you create a cool underground product and rely on word of mouth.  This means the contents of your product also need to be consistent. I am not so worried about the books, although I can spin a yarn, so to speak. I really put the books out to promote other things, such as the artwork on the cover, or the subject matter.  It is a cheap and cost-effective way of making more people aware of my doing something, basically.
Cross marketing is a long winded way of going about things, but it still works to an extent.  I still have three distinct groups of people interested in what I do, the blog readers, the book readers and the artwork peeps.  Until I add the gamers, I do not think this is getting me far at sufficient speed.
The artwork takes a very long time, and a lot of space in my house.  My eyesight is no longer perfect, which is kind of annoying, and I am already making changes to some things, like beadwork, as I know it will make this worse, so I think it will ultimately be phased out, although I still have two to three years worth of work to finish.
I am disinterested in some aspects of marketing, and even though the information is available, I do not use it.  I need to pay more attention to getting my name out and improve on my strategy, which has actually been fairly successful so far.
Deadlines are depressing, and I do not enjoy them any more.  I think the work is better when I do not set them, which renders me a keen amateur rather than the professional I perhaps ought to be.On a personal note

I need to be a lot less tolerant of timewasters and people who set out to obstruct what I am doing.  This has cost around six years of time over the last three.  If I include the time Wolfe wasted before I started this project, we can take that up to a decade of wasted time because I was weeping or worrying about people that do not give a shit about me.
I cannot afford to make myself ill with food again.
I need to get out now and again.
Sometimes it is better to stop what you are doing in order to get something off the list, just because it feels less cluttered
I need to sell some items that I have created (such as computers) in order to get the stuff I need  (such as software) I need to get an Ebay store going in order to shift some wool that I will never use for anything.
I have about thirty courses to finish, and it is far more important that I do this than anything else.
It is imperative that I do the Boris Experience project, as I think he is a more deserving and appreciative case than David Wolfe. There, I said it.
My ideas are better than I think they are, and it is time I appreciated me and stopped listening to other people at all.
My health is more important than ANYBODY

Rant over for today

Mandala carpet and Perfect Posterior finished and on Etsy
Market the screen and Honey I made you an icon from the website
Set up Ebay wool store to shift some unusable wool
Sell at least three computers
Build another two computers
Best Adventure Ever

Then I need to up the marketing effort and put out a short story every week, building the youtube channel and finding an alternative audio stream since Ina has no face.

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The Perils of Responsibility

The Perils of Responsibility

I have previously written about the sin of kindness.  Nice guys and gals really do finish last, and thanks to a culture of contempt for anybody who takes care of anybody else, it is really not wise to stop and take care of anyone.


Having children is also unwise, since you are effectively producing taxpayers at the expense of your own wealth.  Although I have never begrudged the unemployed, elderly or disabled their pittance, I have frequently wondered, back in the days when I worked 20 hours a day for actual money, why I should pay for other people’s children to enjoy school and healthcare when I cannot afford children myself. Why should I pay for everybody else to get what I was told I should not have, since I was dumped with the job of taking care of my parents and this house at the age of 25.


I would have liked to have children.  I worked very hard for a career.  I would have liked a pension.  I am to have none of these things, thanks to my caring for my parents.  My siblings, who effectively announced that they wanted nothing to do with taking care of them, told any number of lies to make my life in Glasgow impossible, on the assumption that I would have no option other than to play family whipping boy forever.


Things are somewhat different now.  I have ensured that I need never suffer the sight of them again, and they are still able to visit their mother in her own self-contained room in the lower house.  I have worked on the Ina Disguise project for two or three years, and whilst I eventually had to give up working to take care of mother, I did not claim the benefits I was entitled to for several years after I really ought to have stopped to take care of everything.  When my mother had the stroke, I was working three jobs, one full time, and two part time, whilst taking care of my parents and their property.  All the time my siblings did nothing, and continued to invent more lunatic stories about me.


I have no idea how I will respond when she dies.  My day consists of a list of things to do for her, timings for doing them, which vary, interspersed with creative work, which she enjoys watching, and thinking about future writing.  (the hard drive is definitely finished, by the way, which means I will have to restart Best Adventure Ever and Lucifer Ogilvie again) I have no hope of making money out of either, currently, and so I worry, as I have for several years, that I am to be left homeless with no pension.


You would think somebody in this situation would consider this, but they do not.  I am stupid for taking care of her, ‘nobody asked you to do it’ is the family motto, and my mother seemed to imagine for several years that Prince Charming would appear at the front door to make the problem simply vanish.  It never entered her head for a minute that my being stuck in this house for most of my adult life was a problem, or that I should be considered in any way.


Of course, since it is inevitably a career politician that makes decisions on how carers are to be dealt with, it must make perfect sense to have people imprisoned in their own homes, earning £60 per week for a 24 hour a day commitment, in my case unable to get the free help I am entitled to as a carer because it would put my mother’s life and property at risk from the local council. Hence, through other people’s stupidity, my hard work in the course of my life has been utterly wasted for other people, and there is no chance of financial recovery.


This is very dispiriting, and yet I keep trying.  There is no way of discussing it with anybody, because I do not know anybody who genuinely cares what happens to me.


I have wondered whether I should perhaps give up Ina Disguise and do a sensible but dull course leading to a sensible job for the pre-elderly, such as funeral advice, or financial back office work. I could do such courses from home, instead of what I am doing.  I cannot help but think this is a good idea, and does anybody really care whether this project keeps going?


Then I think that I already had to give up two post-graduate courses for my parents, that this fits around the constant roller coaster of stress, and that not many people would tolerate this life for very long, never mind try to achieve anything.


At least my sisters were unable to inflict themselves on any children I would have had.  That is a blessing.



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Progress Report

Progress Report


The Mandala is progressing well, if slowly and the new addition is looking quite nice.  I think it will be a good piece of work.  I have purchased a replacement 20 kilos or so of wool, and have my eye on a place selling it by the ton. The tiling on Wolfish continues to go slowly but well, although I am not sure how I will assemble it without help as it is 8 feet tall.


No progress so far on the books, I am still wrestling with three computers.  Two of them can be finished as soon as I get to them, and the other one I think I will sell for parts, as the motherboard seems to need replacing.  Whilst this is not difficult, it is not cost effective to save the rest of it.


My friend has finally gone home, and I have been on supermix for about a fortnight, as previously mentioned.  I feel a lot better and my clothes are indicating that I have shifted some weight, which is always nice. The eyebags, from stress, are lifting and altogether it is a relief not to be providing treats for the never-ending houseguest.  I think I will spend today on the garden and cleaning up after the messy bit of the mandala carpet.


I am wondering what to do about a friend who suffers from psychosis.  Normally I just remove myself until it passes, but the prolonged episodes seem to be worsening, and since he usually chooses to attack me first, I do not feel particularly safe.  It is very difficult to know what to do.


You would think, given my mother’s unpredictable and delusional family, that I would be used to this, but I am not.  It is very difficult to know what to do when somebody is psychotic.  They insist that your wishes are subordinate, that there is nothing at all wrong with their need to do whatever weird thing that pops into their head – whether this is merely irritating, to extremely dangerous and unnecessary.  It always has a cost, and they never pay it.


You get tired of being lied to, you get tired of the mean-spirited selfishness, and you get particularly tired of the violence that inevitably follows.  I am no longer willing to put myself at risk from someone who has physically attacked me twice, and wanted to hundreds of times.  I cannot help this person, and as a psychiatrist who once treated him said, pursuing a cure is pointless because that, in itself, produces psychosis.


So, the only thing I can do is keep the doors locked and avoid this person.  I dread to think what he is doing to some unsuspecting victim from the comfort of his flat.  In the past he has made complaints to damage the life of people he has met only once.  You can imagine how worrying this is when you have had this person around for any length of time.


So that is today.  I am sorry to say that you are best to avoid such people.  It is a shame, because they need company to ensure that they do not damage themselves or other people.

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Some people are best left behind

Harry, from Best Scandal Ever, got in touch today, and immediately demanded a phone call.
Since the last time I spoke to him was in the middle of the family crisis, when my siblings tried to rob my mother, and he declined to either be supportive or help, I was wary.  I was right.
It always alarms me when I discover that people that I have spent years of my life with, have not listened to or correctly interpreted anything that I have said.  To be fair, I often give up speaking, especially when the hearer is racist, stupid, inadequate, or just plain nasty.(Harry only fits into two of these, I am speaking generally.)
As a very shy person – I have only really stuck my face out of my shell to experiment with cross-marketing for Wolfe’s benefit – I did not start out in life as a particularly outgoing person.  Not that I am particularly reticent when I want something badly enough, or when I am in a managerial role, but I am not one of the world’s great socially dominant characters.
For several years I spent time with a number of male friends who I regarded as social equals, and treated them as such.  They apparently did not agree, and spent their time with me looking for problems.  Harry announced in the course of our conversation that I was a cold hearted economist, and that he was immensely surprised that I have a social conscience.  I have at no point demonstrated otherwise.
It alarms me that for some people, the deconstruction of a concept is meaningless.  The great comfort of economics is that you look on people as performance units rather than thinking, feeling beings that you have to care about.  This has no implications for applied economics, which is what one’s government is supposed to practice. It simply means that there is the mathematically correct option, and then there is the applicable option.
I hid my various talents on the basis of the response from Aldous and his brother Harry, who assumed that as what I did was done by someone they knew, it must be substandard or insane.  Little did I know that they were making a personal statement.
At one point in his attempt to con me into getting in touch with him, Harry assured me that I was not that bad.  I do not require his validation.  I should never have waited for anyone’s validation.  You can imagine what it is like when your family and friends have an attitude like this, especially when you have already declined to connect with the wider community.
Beware of your shyness, as you are shutting out people who might actually make some effort to understand you with an open mind, rather than allowing their own hang-ups to make you miserable.  There are always people who will seek to make you unhappy, deliberately, or just to ensure that they have some company in misery.  Haters gonna hate, you need to quickly learn when to put rubbish firmly in its place.
Again I have cause to thank Wolfe, for being imperfect, for teaching me how to revel in my own imperfections, and for freeing me from a state of mind where I was unable to flourish, and where nothing would have ever seen the light of day.  Thanks to him, I love me, never mind him.

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Aging, the news and how to read it

Wolfe and I have just turned 46.  I am 12 days younger than Wolfe, and I have to say, I do not know what he was doing in those 12 days, but it must have been really wild.


Seriously, if you wish to avoid looking like an unironed sheet at this age, stay out of the sun.  The sun may be fun, but my eyes are living proof that the sun does damage your skin quite significantly.  Otherwise, I am suffering from neglect, caused by being busy doing other things and not having a relationship with anyone since I ‘met’ Wolfe, since it would have been a rather pointless waste of everybody’s time.


At our age, Wolfe and I ought to be practising calorie restriction to prolong our lives.  I say practising, because the benefit is really derived after the age of 50.  I reckon that at this point we should be shooting for about 1500 or so as a maximum per day, reducing to 500 or so by the time we are 60.  If we happen to go over that now and again, it is less damaging this way.


So, you can see that you should spend your late thirties to mid forties researching how to get maximum nutrition from minimum calories and deciding what is bearable.


Since my foodie friend has returned home, I have eradicated arthritis in my left hand, rather important considering I sew with my left and do everything else with my right; stiffness in both legs, what I can only describe as muscular congestion across my collarbone and a feeling as if I am about to suffer a fairly serious stroke in terms of fuzziness.  I am now no longer deaf in my left ear, all because I have returned to my preferred option of fish salads and supermix, a concoction I made from a combination of my herbal knowledge and a few recommendations from Wolfe.  I am achieving more, doing things better, and generally not quite so inclined to hurtle towards death.  If you do not wish to eat fish, however, fermented foods fill in the gaps left by your raw diet, and then it is up to you to investigate any options for fine tuning (see your preferred alternative nutrition advisor)


What you should not do, is listen to your GP, who is likely to know very little about nutrition and certainly won’t like it when you present your superior blood counts. (in my case raw at 41, my blood pressure, cell counts, and other indicators of blood quality indicated that I was about 16)  The guidelines offered by the Board of Nutrition in the UK, and FDA in the USA are very supportive of the food industry.  This is a balance of industry and the little they actually know about nutrition.  There are several ‘truths’ which are not actually anything to do with how you function, or what your nutritional needs are after decades of self abuse in the form of eating ‘normally.’


Obviously, like most things, this does not affect everybody.  Some people are able to burn off excess calories and their bowel is speedy enough to ensure that they are not carrying 40lb of caked faeces around with them.  Some people are not, and as you can imagine from any incidences of nappy rashes you have seen, carrying poop around is not a good plan if you wish to stay well.


Speaking of poop, Andrew Neil is this morning trying to pick a fight with me about the oil figures.  I have responded that any country with oil reserves it when the price is low, and several others have pointed out that extracting oil at a cost of $50 per barrel is not cost effective when the price is $55, but no, Andrew, the overpaid journalist must crush anybody that tries to speak to him, rendering my response rather pointless.  Money does not buy manners, brains or flexible thinking in someone toeing the party line at the BBC to pay for his next car/holiday/house.


The point about independence is getting the government that you actually vote for to do the things that actually benefit the population.  I am guessing that Andrew Neil has never had to stack shelves for a living, and I doubt that he has ever had to interview a weeping, severely depressed, skilled carpet worker in Kilmarnock, who, if Westminster gave a damn about Scotland, could have led a perfectly normal happy life.  He does not spend much time in Scotland, so he is unlikely to look at our architecture and wonder why we cannot afford to build quality housing anymore.  He is unlikely to be affected if the population of Easterhouse, Paisley, Mallaig or Lanarkshire suffer from lack of inward investment because the government does not care to encourage any.


So we are unlikely to hear anything but contempt from a man who has led a very fortunate life, and has nothing better to do than attempt to challenge a person who has actual responsibilities in the form of protecting my mother from daylight robbery, whether by her own children or the Tory owned care home down the road. He just does not understand how everybody else functions, because his life is just peachy. Andrew Neil is not the only journalist guilty of toeing a party line, they all have to serve a master.


So, to bring us finally to the point – we can see the connection between my two topics for today – you cannot understand what you cannot see, and why should you if your life is OK?  If your health is fine, you won’t understand why other people have to take great care of theirs, and it will not matter if you give people bad advice, as long as plenty of people are employed by the food industry, the NHS, agriculture, pharmaceuticals.  If your life is easy, you will not understand why people would want to vote for an alternative, risky but more promising future.  People are quite dangerously stupid, even the ones that try to tell you that they know best.  Therefore, your best option is to shut the door on them, and find out for yourself.

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So how am I?

This week has been emotionally eventful.  My friend is away again, probably for a fairly long period this time as I was having serious episodes with my chest and overall health.  This is a good thing for my health, and a bad thing for my emotional well being as he is good at distracting me from my screwed up life.


My friend is a foodie, and my friend has an unnatural capacity for consuming large amounts of conventional food.  He completely refuses to eat raw, although I managed to persuade him for a month or two when I was raw and he looked far better.  He seems to have some sort of aversion to vegetables generally.


Unfortunately, this meant that he refused to listen when I asked him several times not to bring food to the house.  It is surprisingly easy for me to cook for mother and eat raw as long as I omit key foods that I know I cannot share space with.  As with any drug addict, you just avoid situations or spaces when you will be confronted.


I am not particularly neurotic about it.  When not raw, I am low carb so this is pretty flexible. I do not think that it is too much to ask to have control over the food that enters your house when you do not get out for years on end.  My friend was good for making this easier, in the form of us getting out slightly more often as he was helpful with mother.


It is not getting to complete a thought or finish a sentence that wears you down.  It is being basically laughed at for wanting a bit of consideration in the house you are responsible for.  This is enough to make me give up, particularly as I seem to have long term low grade depression after the Wolfe thing.


The Wolfe thing really started after my family spread a lot of lies around in the hope of taking my mother’s money.  Before this, it was not oppressive.  After this, it was the only nice thing to think about. They have not stopped lying and bitching all the time I have been giving up my life for hers.


The good thing about this situation is getting lots of work out.  He really does have a touch of magic when it comes to self-expression.  His very existence is about ‘doing it till they stop you,’ which is rather helpful if you are a shy geek. I still suffer from chronic anxiety, but it gets poured into getting work done.


Obviously the confidence crisis curtailed a lot of heavier academic work, but I am hoping the transition to Boris Johnson will cure that.  In the meantime I have a huge pile of half finished artwork to do, and a lot of writing to catch up on.


I am still at a loss to explain the unblocking on Twitter.  I haven’t checked facebook.  There are a number of possible reasons, coincidence, Twitter fault, somebody else managing the account and unblocking everyone.  I am not sufficiently presumptuous to assume that anything has changed.


Having said this, I have finally come up with a proper name for the mandala.  I have just extended it, so it will take a little longer, but I think we finally have our first really iconic piece on the way. I would be grateful if someone makes sure he actually gets to see a picture of it when it is complete.


I would have liked to do something more academically serious for Wolfe, but I guess things have turned out the way they were supposed to.







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@Gazthejourno and misogyny

Today I have worked hard on the mandala, and am feeling rather easily amused.  So I see that @Gazthejourno believes Glasgow, a city famed for its incredible Victorian and post Victorian architecture, a fact we like to keep secret from the rest of the UK, is a sewer and that the SNP are Nazis.  He is a lightweight tabloid journalist that believes he can bring about a defensive erection in the jock-hating English by mentioning haggis.


So, I have decided to add a misleading headline of my own to this charming man’s mention in my ongoing blog.  Today’s topic is about @Gazthejourno and mysogyny.  Now Gaz can enjoy the effects of people who cannot be bothered reading the post making assumptions about him, just as they do about the SNP.


For the uninitiated, the SNP are about as far from being Nazi as you can get.  So far, in fact, that the Union Jack is now associated with racism, insular thinking and not getting the government that you actually vote for.  Instead we are ‘ruled’ by a series of appallingly disinterested politicians, toeing in many cases, a line that they barely understand. “Oh but we have to starve the poor, it is right here in the party history.  The Conservatives are the party of conserving the status quo.”  Or even more tragically “Austerity is right, it must be, the Tories have always done it, so Labour should now do it too.”


Wanting our country back is nothing to do with hating English people.  Whilst feelings run high amongst a population sick of being lied to and sidelined, we have a tradition of not only welcoming, but marrying and bonking ‘foreigners’ who come to our shores.  Gaz has failed to do his homework. To be fair, he probably isn’t asked to do much, at whichever rag he scribbles for.


Now for misogyny.  I have had lengthy relationships with many misogynists.  They are under-rated, in some respects, as they are usually tragically inadequate and actually hang around for years, in between their attempts to have a relationship with a trophy bitch.  As trophy bitches do not particularly like being interrupted, and they certainly don’t like anyone questioning their right to other people’s money, these relationships inevitably do not last long.  Any question of them lashing out in anger is laughed off and the trophy bitch simply goes hunting for a better prospect.  I used to play backgammon with a money pig that had married one of these goddesses, and despite his constant whining, he was perfectly happy.


I have always assumed that these things come down to ‘daddy issues.’  A man who has always failed to please daddy, assumes a more exaggerated male posture than he is really capable of, choosing to spend his time on male pursuits in an effort to placate the male gender for his failure to impress.  The trophy bitch he marries, was very spoilt by daddy, who was away working to pay for her lipstick. Therefore her spending his money on ribbons and fripperies whilst he watches football or cricket suits both of them perfectly.


If he calls her crazy, this is fine because she is a woman, and incapable of doing anything sensible anyway.  This gives you a lot of leeway to do really silly things, and not be blamed for them because you are a woman.  If he cheats on her, it is because he is a big man and cannot help himself.  As long as a financial arrangement is reached, the relationship then survives.


Likewise, he does not have to grow out of it, and neither does she.  I have lost count of the number of elderly couples like this that I have come across in the course of my life.  It is a trade-off, like many other trade-offs in life.  Their divorce rate may be marginally higher, particularly in the USA, where trading her in for a younger model is a sign of wealth, but otherwise nobody has to change anything about themselves, and all remains fine.


As I have said, I have had twenty year or longer relationships with dudes just like this, so I know one when I see one, and it does not phase me one bit.  Weak men are fun, it is just different fun, and at the end of the day, as long as you have a few of them, does it really matter if they stray off to try another trophy bitch?  They always come back, sooner or later, for some comforting ass kicking.

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