18.07.08

As I constantly flick through the channels with the remote while watching television I glimpse the occasional titbit. Ay, and that! For example, a man sitting on a wheeled chair throws an object forcing the chair to fly backwards. Backseat driver. But if another person stands in front of the wheeled chair & pulls that object from the man's loose grip the chair will not fly backwards because there is no back & seat driving.

The constant speed of light under certain circumstances is puzzling to some people: The light in a fast train moves at the speed of light and not the speed of light plus the velocity of the train. But the light in the train relative to the track (the landscape) is the speed of light plus the velocity of the train. Inside the carriage the speed of light remains constant & not added to the trains velocity.

A few weeks ago a member of the aristocracy thought: "What about tradition? Traditions are important."
I thought: "You rich and me poor?" A man lying supine on a skateboard with a jet engine just behind his head was told by the owner not to worry about the engine exploding because he would be travelling so fast he would outstrip the force of the explosion. No. As the engine is fixed to the board they would both travel at the same speed so the effects of the explosion would be the same as if the skateboard remained stationary.

For many years I worked rotary shifts in a factory (6 twelve hour days & 6 twelve hour nights). On night shift I would lie on a long table with my head and shoulders overhanging holding above my head the heaviest fire-extinguisher I could find. With my feet secured & the extinguisher at arms length I would lean back till the extinguisher touched the floor then raise myself back to touch my toes, repeating the manoeuvre 10 to 15 times for 6 nights. Miss the exercise for 6 days repeating it on the night shift. Why? I heard people say that they were aware of the theatre staff discussing the operation while they wee undergoing major surgery. Being curious I deliberately gave myself a hernia - after a few weeks a lump appeared in my groin. Our G.P. booked me into Ashford Hospital for a repair job. I declined keyhole surgery. I wanted a trench across my stomach. On my way to the hospital I thought it would be a marvellous way to die. No hassle. The hospital would take care of the body. Cremation. Bones will not burn, except in so-called spontaneous combustion - (the wick effect - when bone marrow begins to burn.) or going nuclear. Japan in the 2nd World War had some of its people vaporised in the nuclear blast. Crematoria have drums for crushing bones into bonemeal fertiliser.

Did I sense anything while under general anaesthesia? Not a sausage! Absolutely nothing. I might as well have been dead. The surgeon said to me after the operation: "We nearly lost you. We had a hard time bringing you back." So all that was for nothing.

Although I heard a voice recently in my head while fully conscious. It was a sentence I had not seen or heard before: " Freedom without discipline is anarchy." I hate popular singers who brainwash children with religion. I have voiced such an opinion. Was it my imagination or telepathy? Either way it has not changed my opinion. If one heard voices continually it would drive one insane, therefore the safety curtain is lowered.
I will not name the male vocalist who communicated the sentence telepathically.

The Ruin

The ruin peals across the stone,
A meadow overspills with mist
And though I stand here quite alone
I feel that I am softly kissed.
'From me to you it's sweet, it's due.'
I hear a body calling.
'From me to you it's sweet, it's due.'
But only the leaves are falling

I tilt my head that way and this
Seeking to enhance the pleasure
Who places on my cheek a kiss
With oh such exquisite leisure?
'To me. Come you. We dance, come too.'
I hear a piper playing
'To me. Come you. We dance, come too.'
It's surely the tall trees swaying

I lift my eyes up to the hill:
Lads and lassies singing dancing.
Again the voice, again the thrill.
Her face appears, entrancing!
To that old hall our footsteps fall.
Its rafters slowly groaning -
Within its wall step one and all -
It's melancholy moaning.

We flow where trestle-tables sway with mead and sweetmeats,
where marigolds gently stray around the broken flagstones.
Wind swept tables sprawl with many a fancy turn of wheat.
Purple grapes brim the sculptured bowls and mulled wine overflows
where silver goblets swirl with golden ale.

Minstrels tempt the flowing robes to whirl and I dance with the fair-haired girl.
Hand in hand, silently, past the open hearth, disturbing one inebriated swain, head pillowed on its kerb.
Under the wheel of the five senses. From vaulted roof to star swept sky. We pause to talk of many things, of tournaments and sorcery,
lineage and kings, of physics, metaphysics and shooting stars!
I sail on time with a fair wind blowing.
--------- my mate is throwing all my troubles overboard, weighed down and locked with iron bars!
I have never felt so light! Perhaps, too light for stormy weather for suddenly a chill wind blows.

The ruin peals across the stone.
A meadow overspills with mist
And though I stand here quite alone
I feel that I am softly kissed
'From me, adieu. My love, adieu.'
I hear a body crying
'From me, adieu. Too fleet I rue!'
Its surely the sweet breeze signing.

I tilt my head that way and this
Seeking to enhance the measure.
Who places on my cheek a kiss?
It's such a hurried treasure.
'Alas! Alas! All things must pass.'
I hear her soft voice fading.
'All things must pass? O no my lass!'
But my pleas are unaiding.

My eyes are down, my steps are slow
And as I fare across the lea
Each heavy tread engenders woe.
I sense it coursing through me.
With love so true the joys too few,
The leaves blow hither, thither,
'I letheward, too?' My heart does sue
It's surely the leaves that wither.

P.S. These voices were not in my head but a deliberate exercise in imagination. - Poetic licence.