Bullying vs. the price of fish – does it beg the question? To see those fine fellows of Oxbridge or Harvard kick those dangerous mullahs from Al Quaeda, the Taliban, Iraq or Palestine right round the pitch, one finds oneself a bystander at a game of Bullying, masquerading, emperor-like, as a game of Quiddich, where we are invited to understand that the latter is a real game of global righteousness and importance.
Price of fish? Trade slavery enough for you boss? The Fellows snatch bagfuls of colourful and tasty choses from hapless, luckless and gutless classmates, inmates and primates. "Otherwise I’ll kick your fucking teeth in."
[Angrily] Bedrooms, playgrounds and pirate impregnating stations are veritable breeding grounds of humanity…For too long now have our playgrounds seen the strong overcome the poor (oops) the weak. (This rabid intoning is indeed a natural tick). "Look at that lovely man, Mr. Bush, brave upholder of the Faith", croon our natural mothers.
Humanity will shortly be in our grasp… Is that either without beggars, thieves and child molesters or, without bullies pimps and liars? I personally like mine shaken and stirred. Please, sir, can we change Armistice Day for Amnesty Day or perhaps another couple of A’s I can think of? Oh yes! I recollect, I think I must have fallen in love when you stopped pointing your gun at me.
Oh yes – ‘the order of things’ as conveyed by our man of the Faith and replicated in that ill-informed global institution, Playtime. There’s more chance of achieving World Peace than banning bullies from being bullies. Nay, convene a bunch of ‘achievers’ to commence navel-gazing sessions on the evils of bullying in schools rather than disembowel adult suffrage.
My Dad (a bully himself) repeated to me that millennia-old myth of standing up to ‘them’. Centuries later appeared our friends the White Supremacists aka Western Civilisation. Then, quite recently, y’know, along came the real saviours in all this, Al Quaeda, The Taliban, The Palestinians and Saddam Hussain. All the White Boys got into a huddle near the dinner lady who said: "Say a little prayer for me". The Black Boys disappeared from sight and the White Boys ran off to find them, upon which the Black Boys carried the dinner lady into the canteen and held her for ransom. The White Boys careered screaming back into the canteen upon which they offered 3 conkers and a Pokemon card for the release of the dinner lady upon which the Black Boys confessed their sins and the White Boys repeated "God is Great" three times.

They trained me about support planning to day and so we got into the subject of recovery from mental illness. Later I said to the trainer that 5 years ago I had coined the phrase, "Deficit Model" applied to both the medical model and the social models of managing mental illness. Namely, the one describes a health deficit and the other, a needs deficit. Recovery on the other hand is based on hope, trust and faith in others. I trained the recovery model between 7 and 5 years ago, dropped out and came back 6 weeks ago. What! No reference now to medics and social workers, just a placeless "deficit model". I encouraged the models to go head to head 5 years ago - "never going to happen" methinks. Yes! I did turn that phrase! And what a shock to hear it fully "negotiated" 5 years later. I'd write a book if I could be arsed. Life sucks or some seedier minor illumination on tooth-picking habits of consultant psychiatrists.

Z

Truth about fairy stories

The G-Bs (an abbreviation of a person's surname) are a widespread family of the ancient dynasty of Hill People. This person's name can't be revealed due to reasons of confidentiality. The name would make most people consider that it could be an ancient name connected with the pre-history of the British Isles. Where GB lives has a history dating back to prehistory whereas the majority of homes were built from the 1940's onwards. There exist both Iron Age and Roman ruins in the area and the names of the roads hark back to the Dark Ages at least. GB has settled in the area but the recent users of the name hail from Nottingham. Prior to hearing this from GB and with reference to his physical features, I had opened this discussion by associating him with Robin Hood and Friar Tuck, that's when he admitted to being a descendant of the remarkable Hill People of Yore. How weird is that? That has got me going about the good old rich tapestry metaphor and thinking about other physical types such as "Elvin". Then onto overlays and underlays of national types, local types, racial types, clan types, Lord of the rings an allusion to these very mysteries. I like all this, I like it very much.

Z

Grouped intoxicatingly at the foot of the anti-flag, here to survey the alluring promises of socialism, clutching the anti-venom to the infectious bite of a capitalist economy. Greed pusses from the fangs of the scaly treacherous asp. Hierarchies and multiple overlapping pantheons of supremacy rock forwards and backwards in foetal disbelief at the cumulating uneasiness of the injured beast. Poor relations, do not crave to be richer than thou, tis better that the gluttonous private wealth advocates vomit their own riches out like a cat and a fur ball. This writes an incantation that hopes to turn the mill wheel of minds in denial to lend weight to the frontal assault of world socialism or better still, Anarchy, on the wounded leviathan. Think how this simple recipe bakes the human manna to feed your empty belly, belly of desire for the true blueprint that places humanity at the centre of the universe and each individual at the periphery.

Z

Margin of Error

What happens to an affable type that when agglomerated, constantly makes bad things happen? Oh dear maker produce us a litmus test of personal integrity! Dim my eyes to call out the demons in the hearts of rational and reasonable people populating every micron of a scale from bad to awful or good to better. This glance is sharp in order to penetrate each dissimulated layer of the reasonable wearer of each such reasonable mask. Splitting hairs Z? Sniffing out the shit stashed in plain sacks just haunting his mind tucked into those flaking facades. Hairsplitting? My knife slits a sheet of plain A4 as ruthlessly as the torturers and murderers and abusers, especially those populating shandy town, half-drunk half-sober. Beware the citizen who eulogises privacy, beware the pervert and abuser claiming protection from the legal donkeys. Lets give pornography a mention and say it as we say, men like this like this. There is a human tendency gathering momentum so that lives can pull out the sword of Damocles and slice the ties that bind them to the law of inverse nature. It’s a Zorro thing to test others’ personalities and spin them centrifugally to ascertain the weight, trajectory and potential outcome of the electrons, mesons and protons. A human tendency counts as a will to act, of an active force in an active field, of course we differ, but look at your own life and try and catch the cheat at work, accept it and cure it. We all have to do exactly the same thing at exactly the same time except do it totally uniquely – honestly, you won’t be able to stop yourself: stop being frightened by goodness.

Z