Field Marshall Lord Alanbrooke : War Diaries 1939-45

Just finished reading this excellent book, 'War Diaries 1939-1945: Field Marshal Lord Alanbrooke.' Brilliant insight into the running of the Second World War. I came across it on the bookstall at the market and decided that as I had bought it I might as well read the thing. It has been lying on the shelf, looking good, but unread, for a while now. I found that, in spite of the weight of the thing, it was 'unputdownable!'

It is the habit after a war for those involved to race to publish their memoirs. The clatter of typewriters , in the years following the war, drowned out the traffic on many a street. Army commanders, Field Marshall's, politicians, and anybody who thought they had something to say, wanted to 'put the record straight.' Or at least, as straight as made them look good anyhow! The Prime Minister during the war, the great Winston Churchill, made sure that the record of the war would be made perfectly straight, he wrote it himself! His collected volumes sold well, and so they should. However, his ability to make himself the leading man of the war did cause some to wonder about facts. Especially when they were either put down, or just missed out.
Alanbrooke clearly felt betrayed by the man he had spent several years arguing with. He therefore obtained the help of Arthur Bryant to produce his diaries for him. This was accomplished in the fifties, a time when all the major players were still very active. Bryant had managed to 'massage' certain parts of the diaries, but some folks were somewhat upset at what they discovered. Churchill after all had not won the war by himself!

In 2001 this version of the diaries became available. At the beginning of the war Alanbrooke decided to write a diary as though he was talking to his wife. To talk to the book as though to her. A way of keeping in touch with home, and with himself. In it he revealed his deepest thoughts, and some of them were brutally honest.

The diary details his time in France with the BEF, the attack by the Germans and the escape from Dunkirk. His time organising the defence of the nation and for the most part his promotion to Chief of the Imperial General Staff, the top job! Instead of leading an army in the field, which is what he yearned to do, he had to lead from the top, and deal with Churchill. The diaries detail his daily routine, the late nights, usually because Churchill waffled as opposed to getting somewhere. The arguments that grew in time as both men felt the stress of responsibility, sickness and time getting to them.

By the end of the war Alanbrook was just glad it was over. Glad not to have to deal with Churchill and as a reward, first made a Baron, which cost him £200 he could not afford, and then he runs off to try and make some money. One thing we learn is that the few of the leading soldiers of the day had cash! their financial reward was pitiful, because of Winston's desire to be seen as top man, and most went in to print for the money, as well as the record. We see great men being great, but allowing personality and self service spoil the show. We see the weaknesses as well as the huge amount of work endured. We note the vast distances, of in dangerous areas, that were travelled. But underlying it all is the desperate fear that the war could be lost, and that the decisions taken in late night sessions could be fatal. The pressures of war are clearly seen in these short diary entries. The fears, the courage, the endurance, and finally, the victory!

One thing is for sure, Winston Churchill was a great man, and without him the nation was lost.
But Field Marshall the Viscount Alanbrooke was the man who actually, won the war!

Resurfacing Stane Street

For several nights we endured the dubious pleasure of the men resurfacing Stane Street outside. The road runs from Colchester to St Albans, or at least it did in Roman times, it may still do so. This work has been a desperate need for some time, and at last it has been accomplished. Naturally, being a busy road it had to be done at night, late at night! There is nothing better than reading your book while listening to a dirty great machine scraping of the top layer of the road - right outside your window! Not only do we have the machine, the flashing orange lights, the lorry in front catching the waste, the noise but we also have the shouts, whistles and the constant beeping of the trucks going backwards. But happily only for an hour or two - or three! Now I am not one to complain, and certainly not to a group of blokes as big as this lot outside, so I accepted this as just one of the occasions you just have to suffer for the good of the town.

Naturally we had two suffer for two more nights while they actually laid the new surface. More revving of engines, more beeping, once more the sweeper vehicle went back and forth, and back and forth, again the flashing lights, again the scraping of shovels. Generously the workers stopped right outside my window after the first night, so they had to come back and work cheerily as I struggled to finish the book. How lucky am I? I felt so sorry for these men earning £500 a night for keeping the are awake, especially when the rain teemed down on the second night. My sympathy was something I shared with the mirror in the morning as I examined my red eyes. How we laughed! Still it is done now. The surface is flat and even, the only thing missing is road markings. There were far too many dangerous areas before, dangerous to those of us on bikes, and they have been put right. This is good and the surface will probably last for ten years before disintegrating totally.

These men are not the first to repair Stane Street. This road runs in an almost straight line from Colchester and was possible begun by the Romans, certainly made into a solid surface by them, although it may well have existed for many years before their arrival. How many feet have slogged along the road? Troops marching from Colchester would stop here for the night. Fifteen miles is a good days march in normal circumstances, for me anyway. The road connected not just with St Albans but crossed the road from London to Norfolk and the road north further along. If desired the Romans could march from Colchester along this road and reach any place in the Island in relatively short time. The soldiers on their march could be sure of the reliability of the road, as they were the ones who made them. One way of keeping the men busy in quiet times and developing the land also. I wonder if the legions worked at night, and if they made as much noise when doing so? Somehow I suspect they were little different.

Authors Pictures on Blogs

Why do folk insist on putting their picture on a blog? Now I am not talking here of the postage stamp size pic at the top. These are usually too small to take note off and usually inoffensive. What I mean are those photographs some insist on placing right in your face. Usually these are too large, and worse, too ugly! Most often it is some male attempting to convince us he is handsome, or macho, or has some deep personality trait he wishes to show has damaged his outlook on life! There can be no doubt such pictures are a mistake.

Can I suggest to those tempted to post such frightful representations of themselves that they defer the idea until consultation with an adult has taken place.? What to you appears 'cool,' or even 'macho' appears to normal folk like an extra from a Hollywood disaster film has discovered the gift of writing. The image, so deeply felt, that you endeavour to project does not arrive at the target as intended! If you must post such close ups, or even head and shoulders shots, either don't do it, or, em...don't do it!

Thanks.

Sarah Called

She called to say that claiming women nag is a stereotype! She went on to indicate this should not happen! Apparently I have no right to say such things. She was so upset she actually created a blog just so she could log on and tell me. Sweet eh?

Unfortunately, there was a slight problem in that she spoiled her argument somewhat by adding "Women only nag when they have to!" See the problem? Bet she doesn't, even yet. The thing is dear, who gives you the right to nag 'when you have to?' Who decides 'when?' I know who does, you do! Get it now?

No, didn't think you would. You see, the thing is, when your mind is so self absorbed, and you care only for your opinions, you miss out so much. The main problem wee girls have today is the mouth opens long before the brain, and all too often that does not arrive. I suggest you put aside the girlie magazines (no dear, not that type) and go out into the real world with your mind open and your mouth closed. Ask grown up women what life is like, preferably not middle class ones, they are a wee bit like you see. Learn about things, get out of the rut you are in. Make friends.

Oh, and don't watch 'Eastenders.' It makes you think mouthing off is clever. Try smiling instead.

Virus

Where do virii come from? Why do they exist? Why do they come to me? How I suffer! Never complaining, always cheerful, just getting on with it. Aye right!
I am sick of this one, and it seems to go on for ever.

But where do they come from? Why do they exist?
Those little bugs, so complicated, so cleverly designed, cause so much damage. Look at the cold or flu virus, tremendously well made. The picture of the cold virus shows how complicated it is.

Now if God created them, what purpose do they serve? If they evolved, to what end? I just do not understand their purpose, but I know the damage they cause. if there is one thing I would like to do it is either lose them all, or adapt them to some useful purpose.

The Madeleine McCann Saga

This saga continues. Today the Daily Mirror tells us a German reporter asked the McCanns if they were involved in the disappearance? The paper implies we ought to be shocked by such a direct, and obvious, question. The Mirror forgets to point out that an ex Mirror reporter now works as PR for the McCanns. But surely such questions ought to be asked of a couple who seem to think we ought to drop everything and run after the child they have lost? maybe if we asked direct and probing questions we could get further than jumping on the bandwagon search they have instituted with their media savvy friends and family.

From the picture of the premises it seems a long way to go from young children. What if the kid choked or fell out the bed and broke something? What if fire broke out? How long does it take for a fire to fill an average room? Two minutes? Three minutes? It is hard enough to get out of a house on fire normally, let alone when you are dining at such a distance.

Are we being too hard on the parents? I suppose if they admitted they were at fault, and then sought the return of the kid in the same way others do, then we would emphasise their mistake, and let it rest with the proper authorities. However, when they demand we run after their bandwagon. When football players are blackmailed into wearing yellow armbands, and cup finals are shown videos of the child to keep the campaign public, then I think we are right to ask questions. We are now part of the bandwagon, and we must know the facts. I am as yet unconvinced that the full facts have been revealed.

Normally a mother in such circumstances would generate sympathy, unless she had run down to the shops for a bottle of beer and lived in a rough area of course. Then the Mirror and Sun would call her heartless and demand action! Junkies would naturally become outcasts, but not these two it seems.

The child herself? If, and I mean, 'if,' she has genuinely been taken by the bad guys then I fear she will never return. She could be anywhere. paedophiles may have taken and abused her, possibly even raping her to death, or maybe killed her to dispose of the evidence. It is possible she is alive, confused, and hopefully, being cared for. best not to even consider what kind of life she may end up with.

I would appreciate if the British police gave some understanding of their thought on this case. Somehow, I do not see them as being as understanding as the tabloid press. A healthy policeman's cynicism surely would have many questions requiring an answer.

Education

Isn't education great!

I love it! In fact I love it so much I have several books lying here, each one packed with subjects that will broaden my outlook, help me understand the world and its many ways, and, possibly, make me a better person. I can see them all over the house. They lie on the couch, pile high in the bathroom (the best place to sit and read I find), take up space on the bed and of course surround me on my desk. There are big thick tomes full of academic ponderings, thin easy to read types, books that will reward honest endeavour, books that require cassette tapes to accompany them to ensure you get the sounds right, books that help explain what other books are blethering on about - dictionaries and word guide books for instance. Some books teach much about history, some languages, others practical skills like photography, some how to communicate better. In fact, if you make the effort, it is possible to find books that educate on every subject under the sun, and beyond that even! Fantastic! What a world of learning we have at our fingertips.

Of course I sit here now staring into space and asking myself, if these books are so effective, and if education is so great, why have I not opened them? I'll let you know after I've had another coffee and a game or two of 'Tetris.'

Summer Birdsong

Cycled out into the mist this morning. Quite thick in places but soon burning up as the sun decided to rise. Came along a pathway lined with aged trees and bushes on one side. I had to pullover and sit there listening to the birds singing. A thrush was high in a tree overhead and difficult to spot. However I found him and watched him call for a while. Was he calling his mate, or maybe hers? He was too big to be new born anyhow. Flapping among the branches indicated a wood pigeon chasing off a rival, leaves and feathers falling as he made off over the school field. One of the birds then set to 'cooing,' possibly praising her brave mate. A young tit appeared, nipping quickly among the branches, feeding on whatever he found. A blackbirds sang high in another tree, possibly they are old oak trees but I am not sure. In and out of the branches birds flitted singing brightly, while in the distance the crows cawed to one another raucously.

A wonderful enjoyable short period of time. Listening to birdsong and watching them go about their business. If it becomes possible to add to these sights and sounds the fragrance of newly cut grass and of a wide variety of flowers and blossom, it is possible to imagine in some small way what heaven must be like. There will be no bad smell there, no rotten decomposing matter, just the best that we have here magnified multitudinous - if that is a word! Sunshine, birdsong, fragrance, how I love these small things. This year more than I have ever done, I appreciate them.

Summer Weather

The thing that pleases me about summer weather is walking through the Public Gardens and enjoying the trees, plants and shrubs. I don't think I have enjoyed it so much before. Maybe because I was always working and on my day off either too busy or too knackered! However, sitting there reading my book, listening to the birds singing and watching the never ceasing work rate of the squirrels is strangely enjoyable. That is the third time I have used 'enjoy.' The fact that the sun is warm, when it gets through the clouds that is, does help.

However, when it rains, I do not find myself any less happy, mostly because I am inside and not out there being soaked through. The English are a funny lot in summer rain. For two days it pelted down. The park opposite was an inch deep in places, yet some Englishmen were wandering around in T-shirts, and two that I saw were wearing shorts! Now if it had been warm at the time I would have understood, but it was cold, very cold. Still these chumps wandered about as though in Majorca. Being daft comes naturally to the English.

I wonder if Blackberry Juniper would allow her man such an experience? I somehow doubt it, being quite a wise nag...er, I mean, caring woman.

Missing Child

The media storm over this missing child worries me. Now I am all in favour of parents being concerned for missing children, and hope that the child is found. However, I feel she is now, sadly, gone for ever.

The media coverage and the fact that an ex reporter from a tabloid paper is now giving advice to the family, is disturbing. Why? because we have gone overboard on one child while ignoring all the others who have gone missing.
Worldwide Unicef claims around 1.2 million children are trafficked each year. How come this is rarely mentioned? The reason is simple. Most of them are in Africa or South East Asia. One white middle class British child is worth more than thousands of little black ones from the third world. They do not sell papers, they do not make parents in the west identify with them. They are worth less.

But it does not stop there. This site, controlled by the police, informs us that 77,000 children go missing annually in the UK, 9000 in Scotland alone. While most will return how many disappear and for what reason? Adolescents have always ran away, sometimes to seek their fortune, often because of family problems. Just as often caused by themselves! Where do they go? Clearly they have no understanding of the dangers they face out there, clearly some will end up dead.

http://missingkids.co.uk/missingkids/servlet/NewsEventServlet?LanguageCountry=en_GB&PageId=0

This child has however a great publicity campaign on her side. An aunt persuaded Celtic and Aberdeen players to wear yellow armbands during their recent game. Videos are shown at the English cup final, thousands of posters are downloaded from, I understand, a dedicated website, TalkTalk add a message to every e-mail, and on and on. On one side I feel this is an excellent effort by dedicated family members, on the other, it is an imposition of their grief, and a demand is made for us to join in. It is impossible for most folk not to be concerned for this pretty little girl. It is however also possible to wonder what would happen if a working class parent, let alone one on benefits, were found failing to guard their child. Would we be so concerned? Indeed, if another big story came along after the first week, would we still hear from them? I wonder......

I wonder also about the emotional blackmail we, as a nation, are now under. It is a sad reflection on society today that if the nation mourns, or is concerned we must all join in. If we do not the nation is horrified, and we are blackballed. Another Princess Diana situation arises. far too often we are forced to join the nations emotions together. Not from concern, but form peer pressure. This is wrong and must be opposed. Nothing wrong in the nation being aroused by sympathy, and in this case we are, but something wrong in the insistence on obeying the nations mood.

This mood reflects the spiritual emptiness that is found at the heart of western society. The need for God, has been largely filled with empty celebrity. It was ever thus. We need a cause, as a nation we need a war to bind us together against the foe, as individuals the need is satisfied, but only partly, by a football team or a lover, a job or a political party. All too often, the UK, once so tight lipped, allows itself an orgy of emotion, the first big outlet was Diana, this weeks is Mandy. The child suffers and we use her as much as the kidnappers. What they do I do not wish to contemplate, our national emotion is fulfilling our needs, not caring for her.

Nagging women, or is it Woman?

Why do women nag? It appears that no matter what part of the world a person visits, you will find a nagging woman! Of course, you will also find she has no reason to nag? There never is. How can a woman nag when she is surrounded by men? Men are the most reasonable of souls. Men tolerate the most unreasonable girls, the most thoughtless behaviour, the needless routine questions about their appearance ('what haircut?'), and an an inability to be anywhere on time.
Yet women complain? Why?

One example of this is Blackberry Juniper. She ignores me for what seems like years, spends all her time concentrating on her man, never phones, never calls, never e-mails, yet complains when she is not mentioned on these ramblings! Now she has been mentioned in the past, but has not noticed. Did I complain? Did I hold my breath until I went blue in the face? NO! I did what all men would do in the circumstances, I just got on with watching the football. Now there's another thing! Watching football. How many women will complain that it's '...always the same...' then go of and watch some soap opera? Tell me the changes in any soap opera over the last ten years? You can't because there has not been any changes! This one is still the baddie, that one the womaniser, she still the bitch, that one the tart! IT'S ALWAYS THE SAME RUBBISH!!!!!

Yet the women who watch it week by week don't notice. Why? Yet, if you wear the same shirt to work you wore yesterday they ask why? I have known men forced to change ties because 'You wore that one last time you went there.' A toilet seat being up becomes war at home, while hoovering when the cup final is on is OK??????????

No excuse to nag exists, yet women do. The toilet seat, the shirt, the ignoring the hair ('what hair?'), forgetting a birthday ('you're 48, I thought it was tactful to forget...oh 45, sorry.'), the anniversary slipped the mind ('I thought I would take you out on Saturday, honest'). If a man so much as throws a paper on the floor, in his house, she tells him to put it where it belongs ( he would like to!), he opens the window she wants it shut, she panics because the child needs a new school bag and he is not panicking also, so she complains, long and loud. If she e-mails, and he does not respond within her time frame (which changes constantly) he is nagged, constantly. Forgetting to mention a woman on here (and I am always pointing out their foibles her ooh missus) and sly comments will pass, like. MENTION ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Blackberry Juniper is of course a sweet young thing. Good looking, attractive, highly intelligent, capable of doing anything she chooses, wise (usually) hard working, good humoured, and on top of this a best selling novelist (tomorrow). Bet she nags me soon mind.........

Essex

Essex as a county is often treated with a great deal of disrespect. The image is one of the 'Essex girl' A lass who's ambition is to appear topless in 'The Sun' or reach the dizzy heights of being a high class 'model.' After that she will write her autobiography which, one day, she will actually get round to reading. The 'Essex Boy' of course has developed into a full blown 'Chav' these days. Burberry baseball cap, baggy trousers, and lots of cheap Argos jewellery. A shaven head and a gold ear ring helps to seal the image. Scars are worth extra points, and of course an ASBODagenham way.

However, while such folk do exist, and they do, believe me, they do, not all of Essex lives up to the stereotype. On the contrary, it is a place awash with cash! Many a pop star or movie hero will find a thatched or imitation Tudor eight bedroom house with several acres of garden to keep the residuum from the door. The election shows just how many Conservative voters can be found in this part of the world. Small country towns and villages are predominately Tory, and after the recent elections the county is almost all blue! Some areas remain, like Colchester, Liberal Democrat, and a few stay red for Labour, like Harlow. However, for the most part Essex is a moneyed place. The working class also tend to be Conservative in their outlook, lorry and taxi drivers have always been of course, the 'What's mine I keep' people. No concern for others, money first, until they can no longer work of course, then it is as many benefits as possible. many in Essex share this outlook. The 'Daily Mail' and 'Express' must do well here.

Essex is also a delightful place to visit. Historic castles, green and pleasant land, seaside, estuaries, bird sanctuaries and occasional sunshine. Narrow country lanes attract many motor cyclists in the warmer months, around nineteen died last year because of carelessness. But others stop to admire the churches which, in some cases, have stood on that spot for nearly a thousand years. All the requirements an individual needs for a few days out. On top of this Essex is one of the safest counties in England. Put aside the stereotype, leave that along the Thames coast, and let it remain there. or two will make you a hero down

Bank Holiday Monday

It was obvious this was a bank holiday Monday. The minute I woke I could here the rain outside.
The few cars that passed swished through the wet roads, and rain drops thudded slowly, but steadily, on the ledge outside. However, those walking the dogs in the park found the weather, while wet, quite warm. Summer type rain may come straight down but can be actually quite refreshing. Not sure the dog walkers early in the day thought this way mind.

Swifs

I saw the first swift of the year yesterday evening. A sure sign of summer approaching. Wonderful to see. Swifts, or bluebird's as we used to call them up north, are great birds to see. They spend their time flying around, sometimes high in the sky chasing one another, and then racing past the window at high speed. At all times screeching loudly and enjoying the moment. For a year or two they had a nest in the extractor fan outlet. Unfortunately the landlords man must have blocked their entrance in some way when he painted the outside of the building. Pity, but there were several places in the roof that allowed starlings also to make nests. These too appear to have been closed off.

Long bright days, except for the cloud that covers us at the moment, and swifts high in the sky. beasties crawling and flying around, birds sweetly singing in the trees, the fragrance of blossom. Simple things, but something that makes life so much better.

Elections in Essex & Scotland

O.K. it's bore time. Let's talk elections.

In Essex there is little surprise that the area has a blue tinge. In this town alone 42 out of 60 seats are Conservative. Service cut backs ahead I think. What services you cry? Ah yes, possibly another late night bus withdrawn, if it still runs. East Anglia has turned blue, but there is no surprise in this. For the most part the moneyed classes predominate, and while an occasional swing to another comes from time to time, most are happier with the party that worships cash as opposed to people. In one area they attempted to modernise using the equipment used in Scotland. It failed! Isn't progress wonderful? The Scots vote meant nothing to these folks of course. Too them Scotland is another county of England. But they do resent having to pay for it. In fact, Scotland has of course carried England for years, but facts do not stop race hatred do they? Some even demand an independent English parliament, ignoring the fact that Westminster has only ever considered itself English for three hundred years. Again such facts do not fit in this part of the world.

Scotland has given the SNP the best chance it has ever had for showing what it can do. It is not enough to demand independence, a party must be able to govern, and govern well. This will be difficult under proportional representation, as this does not give one party an overwhelming lead. Pity. I am not keen on the type of PR used in the Scots election. However, the SNP will probably join with the Lib Dems and work something out. What exactly, remains to be seen.
Emotionally most Scots want independence. Rangers fans and Tories do not. One because of a twisted view of Ulster, and the other fearing for their wallets. I wonder if the folk in Perthshire have houses in East Anglia?

What real difference will all this make for you and me? Little I suppose. More boring political half truths on the radio and telly. Much too much in the way of conjecture from the chattering classes. But overall, the man in the street will see little change. Prices rise, the economy fluctuates, his job may or may not continue, his wife will nag and feel she could do better elsewhere, his kids will rebel and cause upset, the cat will be sick on the bed.

Overall, life continues as normal for the most part. Hey ho. Isn't democracy great?

The Great War for Civilisation

This book by Robert Fisk is well worth a read. It may have 1286 pages, not counting the addenda, and it may take a while to peruse, but I recommend it to those who wish to understand the Middle East today.

The lack of concern for human life shown by the folk from all sides stands out. The tortures, imprisonment, brutality, murders and general callousness shown by Arabs and Persians, Americans and French, by British and Saudis, by Muslim and so called Christian never seem to end. Everybody is under threat from someone, so all fight back, often before they are attacked. Muslim groups fight their own leaders and each other. Dictatorial leaders brutally put down any suspected of rebellion, whatever their religion.

And of course the West comes to bring 'democracy.' As long as that 'democracy' leads to capturing the oil fields for themselves. 'Democracy' can be foisted on Iraq, but not Saudi Arabia, they are our friends after all. Iraq can be made 'democratic' especially if Israel wants it broken up. It never fails to surprise me just how influential Israel is in American politics. Another surprise is the weakness before this of the 'Most powerful man in the world' the president of the United States. Serious questions need to be asked here by the American people, especially those sent to die for a cause not their own. The president elected on the back of $345 million dollars from big business and oil money (his business) gives out contracts, without tendering first, to those who backed him. The oil fields are guarded more heavily than peoples lives. Just who and what is running the American government at any given time I ask? What is the purpose?

Israels behaviour is clearly seen as outrageous. Not just the land grabbing, but the treatment of the Palestinians who object. Israel may have been returned to the land God gave them, and that is what I believe, and God may still have a place for them in this world, but the must turn to their God and do things his way. This they do not do. None of the leaders have been religious Jews. Most of the settlers appear to have an unhappy habit of being Americans who think they are winning the 'wild west' all over again. God wants all to know his Messiah, Jesus of Nazareth, and knowingly firing 'Hellfire' missiles into ambulances full of women and children is not the way to do it! A change of attitude and a clear answer to the Palestinian problem is urgently required if there is to be peace in the Middle East. However, I do not believe this will happen. It is not for us to know they way God is working in Israel, it is for us to know God through his Son, and then live for him where we are. Pray for Israel, but ask the Lord what he wants, not what we want.

I reckon this book covers around five million deaths in the time span presented to us. So it is not the sort of thing to read out to the kids last thing at night! But Fisk's travels in Afghanistan (where he meets Bin Laden) , Iraq, Iran, Saudi, Algeria, Pakistan ( a friend of the West even though the Taliban and Bin laden may be based there. And don't mention their nuclear arms please), and elsewhere show several things. People from all backgrounds and cultures, religions or not, can be kind, helpful and well worth knowing. It also shows they can torture, murder, and hate forcefully and brutally. Politicians from all sides are assailed from all sides by all sides, and usually compromise by taking the easy way out. Or what benefits them the most. All tell lies, all misuse their own forces as well as the enemies (real or imagined) all justify their actions and rarely are called to account. Mostly what we see is suffering. Suffering of the innocent, call them insurgents, terrorists, or threatening, call them anything, but justify the murder and pain and walk away seems to be the order of the day.

Fisk does not attempt to offer a 'fix' for the area he has covered. However, he does let us see the results of our meddling among people we once despised and now fear! Political chicanery, regarding the locals as unimportant or 'lesser peoples' has come home to roost. We have pushed them too far and now bear the cost. The unwritten answer is to let them have the freedom they want in their lands. Ensure 'democracy' exists in all the lands, not just some, and stop using them for ourselves. There is an amazing lack of understanding in the west of the Muslim mind.
A thought that we are more 'civilised' and a great fear of what we do not know.
Especially when it now resides amongst us!

Time for us to consider others quite a bit more. Time for a radical overhaul of Middle East policy, and time for the United Kingdom to stop being a lackey of the corrupt United States Government. Time also for the American people to take their government back into their own hands. If, that is, they have the courage and if they have the desire.

Church Services on TV

What is it about televised church services? Why do they have to go to a large cathedral to portray Christianity? I am watching a service for Easter from Coventry cathedral. The cathedral is a vast open space built after the second world war to replace a building destroyed during the blitz. Those in charge decided to rebuild the church and offer forgiveness to the enemy. Since 1940 this church has worked worldwide to bring reconciliation between enemies. This is a work that needs to be congratulated.

However, the service involves the usual Anglican choir, loud organ, and leader led responses. All this leaves me cold. There is no spontaneity here. No reaction to Jesus the man, and what he has done. Indeed, what he is doing. The hearts may be right, the performance is wrong.

Yet this is what the public see. They do not see lives changed, just nice folks being nice. We need church services on TV which reflect the church as she is today, not an image that suits television producers expectations. We need to see one of the lively young churches which abound through the land. Certainly they have been featured on occasion, and 'Spring Harvest' has hosted 'Songs of Praise' on occasion, but far too often a church seen on television is old fashioned and worse, out of touch, or middle class.

Still, at least the secular liberals are forced to portray the church so many despise. The message that 'Christ died for our sins, and was raised for our justification.' is published and heard. Now of course, I must let him live in me and live it out. That way his message will be seen in a cold lonely world, full of need and desperate for the Love of God to reach them.

Easter Weekend

I almost missed the Easter weekend. I knew it was coming but suddenly it is upon us. Today I suddenly realised is Thursday, clever of me, and this means tomorrow is Friday, Good Friday! The intellect is straining now. This weekend is therefore the Easter weekend. This explains why the traffic is rushing by my window so early. Everyone is desperate to be off and relaxing at home, or wherever. Sainsburys will be crowded with shoppers stuffing the bags full of groceries they do not need, desperate to ensure they will not starve to death during the break. Only one person died at Easter, and he rose again, so relax a bit folks. Come Tuesday, all their bins will be full of uneaten food, wasted when thousands starve elsewhere in this world. And in this house when I consider it.

Strange experience watching people flock to their breaks. The idea of a few days off is meaning;less to someone with too many days off already. A day or two of work would be an experience, and now the weather is improving, the sun shines and one day soon the warmth will reach us, the idea of work seems inviting. Of course this depends on what work actually is available. So far, nothing. I may as well just continue to sit here and peddle this rubbish day by day eh? What's that you say...? Oh!

Another Essex Spring Day

You can tell by the cloud overhead. Not dark, but not quiet what one would call light either. The difference between Essex and Edinburgh is striking. Here the East wind is several degrees warmer, in Edinburgh it always cuts through the natives like a knife. There is cloud here while the sun shines on Edinburgh (no I will not say 'Sunshine on Leith' - drat! I did.) this is unusual. Now Easter is approaching we can expect the snow to return at any moment.

Easter! This occasion in which we remember the dying and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth for all our sins, in an attempt to reconcile us to God! We celebrate this by buying over wrapped and overpriced needless chocolate eggs, sending overpriced cards and indulging in a long weekend romp. Sometimes we even consider the religious side of it, but hey! lets not be a fanatic about this eh?

Sunny Easter (hopefully) approaches. The kids will be out en masse shoplifting, the parents, if not dozing at work, will be otherwise occupied, and most probably uncaring, well some of them anyway, not all parents are bad even if the kids are. many at this very moment are crowding Stansted Airport waiting for the 'Easyjet' to Spain. Their idea of fun is to sit in a bar drinking foul Spanish wine or imported lager, read the 'Daily Mirror' or 'Sun' daily to ensure they do not miss anything important, and spend the rest of the day catching cancer lying in the sun smoking cheap fags. I envy them......

April Fool

First day of April. Several papers and no doubt, radio and TV stations will have played 'April Fool' jokes on their followers today. I sit here, cold, hungry, tired and wondering how I got into this mess, thinking there is only one 'April Fool' in this house.

And it's me.

Eleven Years In This Flat

Eleven years to the day when I moved in to this flat. What a change from the London place. It took me a while to get used to this, although the couple downstairs with loud music for the first few days made it difficult. However they moved out, and as Easter Monday came upon us immediately, and I had to use those wee cards to pay for electricity which I did not have, I soon felt at home , cold, hungry and penny scraping. It was lonely, boring and I was not too happy. However, one day a few weeks later, I walked down 'The Avenue' and noticed the blue sky, birds singing and decided it was better than London after all.

Times of unemployment, which went on and on, temp work, packing work and later the Royal Mail job followed. Now the circle is complete as I am broke and unemployed again. Good things did occur. Nina being the best. What a wonderful woman she is. I thought she was ideal for me in every way, except regarding God. Her opinions were different. However she made me feel like a man, taught me about loving someone, and being loved, and I miss her still. No woman can replace her, and let's face it, none have wanted to.

So, eleven years on I find myself broke, unemployed, with no chance baby. Lonely for a woman, without a church to be involved in, no friends, no jobs, and staring bankruptcy in the face, if I can afford it. Are you depressed yet? Neither am I! I believe God still loves me. I just wish he would show me the way out of this mess. Happy anniversary........

I Told You it Couldn't get Worse!

I lied of course. This morning my delightful niece sent me a little note, black paper, silver pen, great for the postman's eyes that! She enclosed a pic of her two dogs, excellent photo it as at that.
Along with that came the 'Scots Magazine', and a brown envelope. As expected it meant my JSA has stopped. As I then went on to look up the money paid into the bank, so did my heart. Instead of £114 I got £49. Oooer, I thought. As I had calculated I had only £12 left to live on throughout April, this came as a surprise. I forgot I may not get the whole amount.

So I have done the only thing possible. Asked Jesus what to do? I am looking for the reply that brings a quick and pleasing answer. None has come. I am beginning to think that maybe he will not answer this one. I may have to take a job that puts pressure on my knee (and wallet) again. It is at times like this I wish I had been better educated,less lazy, and had some specific skill other than humping things (not people, that is not very skillful where I'm concerned). But if I cannot get one, or one quick enough, then what?

Is God behind this? If so, what is he saying to me? I wish I could hear, and knew what to do?
Interestingly I did a joke test this morning and discovered I was 73% Stupid.
Doh, I knew that already mate!

The test. http://www.stupidtester.com/index.php?ftrd

The Darkness Deepens

So as I sat here yesterday typing out the collapse of all things around me, the washing machine, stereo etc, I did not think it could get worse. It did! Last night I sat at the calculator and discovered that when I have paid of the direct debits and posted the cheque to the Visa card I would have £12 to last me a month. Not only does nothing work, not only can I not find work that my sore knee and dumb brain can cope with, but I am broke! For the first time in a long time I was anxious about cash. That has not happened for a long time. What to do? Find work. Great! Where? Doing what? Suitable work does not either exist or want me. This mean unsuitable work, bad for my knee and the very thing the doctor said 'NO!' to.

OOer......

The World Crumbles Around Me

As I was setting the stereo to tape a radio programme I once again found the machine playing up. Instead of changing the time, it changed to the programme. All too often it does things it ought not! If I switch it off, it comes on again! If I turn down the volume the sound goes on down to zero, if I turn it up it reaches 90 decibels. It will not be long before this one reaches the end.
This is worrying me. Already I have a broken washing machine, the P.C. is broken, this laptop is not working properly and the video played perfectly, until yesterday! Now all tapes show up as 'snow' while the picture appears when fast forwarded! Great! The microwave is falling apart and will need renewing, and the kettle is leaking.

This would not be a problem but for a misfortune with money. That is, there is none! Here am I, unloved, unwanted, and no wonder, with no job and with a sore knee! Being fifty five means no one wants to employ me, my memory is going and I keep forgetting things, even peoples names when I am talking to them. I checked the money tonight and came to a startling find, I am broke! It seems that the benefit cash and the dole money is not covering as much as I thought. In short, my new 'o' level in maths has not helped my calculations. I am still a dunce. When I pay all the debts at the end of the month I will have £12 to last a month! I may lose more weight than I thought........

What to do? I cannot think as I am dumb, I cannot do the jobs I am used to because of the knee, I can't even drive and now cannot get the lessons I have been looking for. Employers don't want me, I have nothing to offer.......Hmmmmmmm looking good eh?

A short prayer. "Jesus, Heeeeeeeeeeellllllllllllllllllllllllllllp! Thank you"

Dry, Sunny Essex

When I came here eleven years ago, I was delighted to discover Essex was the driest county in England! Fantastic! I was also under the impression it was one of the flattest. Combining this 'little Holland' with Global Warming I thought I was on to a good thing here. How wrong I was!

Within two years I received anxious phone calls from relatives worried about the money I had borrowed, asking if I had drowned in the floods. Naturally they were delighted, at least the piggy banks were, that flooding only happened at the bottom of the hills, hills which I thought did not exist! Flooding did take place, and has done since several times. A combination of heavy rain and swollen rivers makes for uncomfortable living. This begs the question, why buy a house at the bottom of a hill next to a stream? And the houses bought are not the cheap ones either. What drives folk to seek houses there? Could it be that is where 'the right people' live? You know, the middle class folks, 'our kind' as it were. Certainly a more intelligent, less class conscious type might move to a better place, but I digress.

The hills. Yes, there are hills, and steep ones at that. I did not notice them at first, but once I got on the bike and found myself struggling up slopes I had not noticed before, then I noticed them. Once I began delivering mail by bike, I noticed them even more!
Struggling up a hill with a twenty five kilo bag of mail aint no fun son I can tell you! Naturally, in such a job as that, there is always one who has to claim he cycles up daily with no problem. We all tend to agree with folk like that. The cycling is no problem, it's the lies that irritate! Why is there always a man who has to boast of his prowess when all and sundry know he is lying? Not only that, he knows we know, but he goes on pretending he is fooling folks, and even impressing them. The word 'tosser' is appropriate here.

Essex, county of hills and rain after all. But on the other hand, there is indeed more dry days than wet, more chance of a hosepipe ban than a flood. More chance of my lottery win arriving than daft middle class types buying houses they actually want than just because they are with the 'right kind of people.' Could be worse mind, I could be in some city centre. At least I can always see the sky here, even if it is overcast and light gray at the moment.

Good and Bad Weekend!

When your team puts in a performance like we did against Dundee United you need something to lift the heart, or in deed Hearts I should say. Four nil loss at home to a mediocre team that is rebuilding from a position of nothingness? How come? Vlads bad management structure, poor team relationships, and lack of strong leadership, that's too the fore. What will happen now? There are no top players either fit or available. Far too many of the better players hide, and soon the split will mean we are against those clubs fighting for the EUFA place. Disaster awaits!

Now, when you need something good to happen to you what occurs? A novelty, a blip, a nightmare that's what! Yes indeed, the Wee Team went of and won the third trophy in Scottish football the CIS League Cup! How could they? And how could they do it so emphatically, five goals to one indeed! I am glad I do not live in Edinburgh at these times, I may get done for assassination!

However, not all is bad. God has been good this past few days.Indeed I think folks prayers have meant leading me to a church that can be helpful and certainly indicating Jesus love for me still, in spite of it all! I have never really enjoyed Jesus as I ought. I keep holding back from giving my self too him fully. But I am encouraged this weekend here. Through the hail that has come down in blizzards at times I can see sunshine in Jesus. Lets have more Lord. And if you can do something about Vlad getting a proper manager, well, that would be good also......

Exercise

OK so the weighing machine groaned when I stood on it, and the plastic cover on the dial flew off, but that does NOT make me fat! Anybody who is out of work and spending too much time sitting at a broken computer could easily put weight on. Especially when it rains outside, or the neighbours complain about the noise up above them. This hinders exercise you must understand.
However, when said machine creaked a wee bit and the dial read 16 and a half stone (that's 231 lbs to the uneducated) I decided something must be done.
So it was out on the bike, along the flat streets a couple of days, and up the old railway line yesterday. Would do that more often if those dog walkers waited until I passed. You have no idea how many pooches wait until you cycle up to them then meander in front of you! Today I not only went down the flat road, and the long way round, I also walked for a while in the sunshine.

Now I realise just how unfit I have become. Puffing and panting in a way I did not do four years ago! Working for Royal Mail did my knees no good at all. I used to go long walks but now struggle after half an hour. Losing weight will help, but I wonder if the knees will ever be the same? The arthritis under the right knee won't help, but that also makes me walk at an angle. This is something that is getting worse. I came across Nina a few weeks ago and she was shocked at the change. That was worrying. However, with the cycling and walking, with the weights I lift and the other exercises I reckon I will lose the fat stomach, feel better, think better also, or give up and be a slob! Things must change. getting a job, with the routine etc that goes with it would help, and being healthier might help me get a job. What kind of work needs fat slobs.

And when were are on the subject, why do folks use the word 'obese' in the media when they refer to fat folk? Are they ashamed? Or is 'fat' not educated enough? pretentious misuse of words by the media folk I guess. I am heading for 'fat,' and that in the big belly area at that. Not 'obese,' just 'fat,' and it's disgusting!

Women

God created women so they could know him and praise him. So that they could experience life in all its fullness. How easy it is for men to forget this and abuse them. We look at pictures of their naked bodies and let our fantasies run free. married or single, old or young we justify it one way or another. Christian men are well aware, not only that it is wrong, but of the harm it does to them, and themselves. yet we still watch a bit of porn, indulge our feelings, and forget that these women, like ourselves, belong to God, not us!

Muslim women tend to be treated very badly indeed. Usually this is because of cultural , rather than religious, motives, but nonetheless the women are rarely free. Afghanistan and Saudi may be amongst the worst, but they are not alone. African women tend to be more independent, but suffer much in many areas. Indian women, especially in the village backwaters, of which there are vast numbers, suffer also.

Women in the 'west' are constantly complaining of their lot. But these women are free, able, and very well off. Rarely do they have genuine deep complaints no matter what they say. The men in the west suffer just as badly, but are expected to just 'get on with it!'

The point is, no matter where we are in this world. No matter what century we lived in, God in Christ Jesus created all women. Each one is precious in his sight. Each and every one cost the life of the saviour, none are left out of the finished work on the cross. They are meant to be free in Christ, meant to have a life of fulfilment, meant to be praising him in all things, and meant to know him and enjoy him for ever.

Can we Christian men stand around ogling them? Are we entitled to sit back and allow women in other religions or cultures to suffer? Is it right for us to forget they belong to God and not us?
Married or single, whatever our area of life, the sex urge does impel us to look at women. We want one, usually 'now!' The way they dress in the west does not help us of course, and their own sexual liberality is a distraction. But it is for the individual male to remind himself that they belong to God. We all know this can be hard when sex rears its head. Single men, especially young ones, find control difficult. So do married men. Their wives are often very unhelpful and a woman who treats her man thoughtlessly and ignores his sexual needs does indeed encourage him to look elsewhere. Consideration for the other is very important here, not all women understand, or indeed care at this point.

Let us then see woman as God sees them. Let us love them in Christ, and that is not always easy! We know that! Let us endeavour to ensure that God can get the best out of the women he has made. That she is aware of him and his love for her. That she is enabled to praise him and enjoy him,whatever the situation. Slave or free, rich or poor, black or white, known unto Jesus or not, let the male love them as Jesus loves his church.

Sunday, A Day For Seeking God

At least that was the idea. It seemed good at the time! So when I woke this morning, for the second time, I noticed there was a mist outside. Not much point in having one inside I suppose, anyway, I decided that fitness was important and climbed on the rusting bike with my rusting body and headed for the old railway line. The intention was that I would stop at places, contemplate God as I looked at the country around, take a photo or two of misty scenes,and plod home to continue the seeking. naturally the place was busy. Not 'High Street' busy, but plenty of folks walking their dogs, jogging or just wandering up to the village for whatever purpose. Not much chance of a meditation here. The one time I stopped, as I puffed up the incline the steam trains of the past never noticed, it took seconds for folk to appear in the distance. Hey ho.

So it was back home in due course, and meditate in the bath. Well, doze was more like it as the exercise had failed to stimulate the mental capacities that once resided in the cranium. It took only a short while to decide that protein was required. Salmon and assorted fruits and veg saw to that, and it helped. The theory that a good breakfast is required to survive the day is clearly correct. if there is time of course....

However, by tuning into Premier Radio, http://www.premier.org.uk/Index.cfm?bhcp=1
and listening to the noon worship time life changed. While I was struggling to read the book, and finding my head filled with despair at my unbelief and lack of God there the presenter read a psalm that meant a lot to me. Don't ask which one as I forget, but the words spoke of Gods care and I was lifted suddenly out of the pit! As the bland inconsequential praise so loved of Premier continued, I found myself crying out to God as I had once before in the distant past! Emotion or Spirit? I do not know or care, but this has carried me through the day.

I wandered out later and accidentally came across Sunday football in the park. As the rain slanted sown and the adolescent players struggled with the hill and weather, I found myself just enjoying the rain and the game. I took this as from God and stood happily in the rain for a good while before deciding prayer was what I was supposed to be doing. Back home I read while listening to Premier. Tiring of the blandness of the music I searched out other Internet radio stations and found one in Ottawa playing worship music with a bit more bite. CHRI FM is worth a listen. http://www.chri.ca/chri2/viewpage.php?pageid=67
It done me a lot of good today. I found one or two others that had good thumping music, but this made reading while listening easier.


I find myself tonight wondering where I am after today. Am I nearer God? Have I given myself through the cross? Am I letting him in? I am loner, I always want to be in control and have always resisted letting go, am I nearer that, and have I done enough? Lord please say.
Whatever, today has had many positives. I am glad for it.

You know it is not your day when............

You know it is not your day when the automatic doors at ‘Tesco's’ do not open and you walk straight into them. You continue the luck by finding your newspaper is not available, and the bread that you desperately long for is no longer obtainable. The unfairness of life smacks you in the face at this point. The point is where other people’s lack of appreciation for the things you love costs you dear!

Of course the day can get better, however wet you get walking home in the rain, but you know it won't. The water bill is lying behind the door, it joins the Gas and Electric ones in the 'This can wait for another day' tray. Stretching back with the morning coffee your eye catches the calendar and note the birthday that you thought is next week occurs today! As you jump to find a card and stop a family disaster the coffee helpfully falls over your laptop.

Just three hundred and twelve more days before the year ends. It seems a long time............

Anti-Christian Persecution

The anti-Christian persecution grows apace. Silently and slowly more and more we see the persecution enlarge. Today the 'Daily Telegraph' has this comment,
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/opinion/main.jhtml;jsessionid=BSB3KPZBLZNRXQFIQMGSFGGAVCBQWIV0?xml=/opinion/2007/02/10/do1001.xml

Is that link long enough?

Here we see organisations working (successfully amongst folk of all sorts, helping them to a better life, and being rejected by town councils because they are Christian orientated! The fact that they work, and that lives are changed for the better is unimportant. These folk put their beliefs first and do not submit to the totalitarian ideology of the council. How can this be? If football crowds are no longer allowed to call footballers 'poofs' because it is 'offensive,' how offensive is it in a free country to object to someone because of their religious belief? Or would an 'ethnic' religion be acceptable I wonder?

Slowly but surely we are entering a period where the Christian church will be attacked because it does not follow the political correctness of the Blair government. Behind it of course is the power of the enemy who cares nothing for politics, but uses this to ensure an assault in these days on those who reject his ways and choose life!

Hard days are ahead once more for the church in the UK. Around the world, in India, China and Muslim lands everywhere the church suffers. Soon the persecution will develop here in this land. Look out for it.

Home is Two Places Edinburgh and Essex

Flying to Edinburgh almost brought one of those 'Idiot' moments. I had booked one of the Boarding Passes,but was unsure about how much Airport Tax had been paid, it increased at the start of the month. As I arrived at the desk to enquire re tax they pointed out the check-in had closed. The idiot inside me had read the closing time as the opening time! So next thing I was rushing, and upsetting my knees in the process, towards Gate 81. This was of course miles away, and I had to go through the security, then the 'shoe check' then rush for miles. Naturally,when I got there the plane was delayed and there had been no need to hurry. Jesus was looking after me, why did I worry? But I do. Self obsessed as I am.

Edinburgh is so different from Essex. Not just the city but the life. When I am there I am actually often back in time, I refer to the airport as 'Turnhouse,' a name not used for thirty years, and I return to a life I left that long ago. Not that it is all bad, however many of my memories are, and I do not like them. However, it is good to see the family. My nieces have all grown up into fine attractive intelligent women each still showing different characters but each one being a lovely lass in every way. Their kids are growing up in the same fine Scots tradition, however much political correctness destroys their education and common sense. And that is the one thing I have always missed down here. Watching them grow up. Now I miss the kids also.
It had to be, but how I wish I had been different.

My mother is now 92 and beginning to feel her age. But she well might outlive most of us! It is difficult being there as I am too selfish and too used to being on my own, hence the great desire to get back home come Sunday night. Nothing is better than being in your own place and following your own routine, no matter how mean and squalid it might be! Again I ask, could I live there? Not at home certainly, but maybe in Edinburgh or thereabouts if I found the right place. Of course to do this I need to win the lottery, and that my friend is just a lottery. But, after the tiredness wore off, I am back in the routine. Job hunt, self concern, staring at wall time asking what to do, then ignoring God and doing whatever I want anyway. Followed either by guilt or nothingness, then questioning how I am to get out of this? Easy pal. stop being selfish, let Jesus be Lord, and it will fall into place, slowly maybe, but surely!

Anyway, the flight back was interrupted by the neighbour at my side talking. Why, I ask, why can women not just look out the window and enjoy the view like I do? However Fiona turned out to be a bright highly intelligent woman, and there is not many of those around. Working for the Voluntary Arts project and struck me as well worth knowing. In the end I had to admit it was the best journey for a while. I also noticed how many folk seem to stand around doing little at the airport. Seems to me that is something to look into. That's my kind of work.

So by the grace of God the trip went reasonably well. However I still do not relate properly to Mum. Would I get on so well with the rest if I was nearby? They would see me as I am, and although they have a good idea of my ways, it will be awful to have them know just what a complete clown I am.

So Jesus, here we are, grateful for the wee holiday, but living totally for my squalid self once again. I apologise almost humbly, but still find my mind full of thoughts that do not glorify you, expose my weakness and emptiness, and indicate just how far I am from you. Should I stay in Essex or indeed anywhere else? I just do not know. Many good things here in northern Essex, not being alongside the stereotype 'Essex Boy and Girl' is one of them. But what now? I don't know, why ask me.......?

The Great War for Civilisation

I am reading Robert Fisk's book, 'The Great War for Civilisation' at the moment. I am enjoying it, and learning a great deal from it. Unfortunate that it is so big a book, but I suppose it is an enormous subject, and indeed Fisk's life's work in effect. Afghanistan, Iran and now I am onto Iraq. The main lesson is the obvious one, Islamic societies do not want to be told what to do by the west! They desire decent treatment, and independence. Extremists like Bin Laden are not the problem, that is the misuse and misunderstanding of the culture by those that think they can push the world around.

There are many failings in the societies of the middle east, far too many! Cruel savagery is not uncommon. Savagery of a kind not seen in the west since, well, the last time it was seen. Human beings are all the same underneath after all! The British, French, Russian and U.S. empires have all made promises they would not keep, and used and abused the area for their own ends. They still do! It is remarkable how many mistakes have been made in the past and now are being repeated because experts, and ignorant leaders, either do not know of them, or for some obscure reason, imagine that 'This time it will be different.' How wrong they are.

What to do? Good question, I hope you have the answer! I don't.

We could say Jesus is in control and working out his plan. True, but we see it as in a very dark mirror. Many suffer and die if the troops remain, and many will suffer and die if they leave. Oil, the main point for Bush, will keep the interest ongoing. Terrorist strikes may also keep troops there. But again, can you win a war in Afghanistan? The British didn't, the Russians with great power failed miserably, and it is hundreds of years since anyone conquered that land. Will a few thousand, well trained, troops win now? No is the answer. If Pakistan helps out they might. Pakistan cannot help more than she is doing, the people would turn on the leaders. The Al-Quedah (you spell it!) threat may not be as great now as it was. many other groups working alone may be more of a danger. Instead of fighting, maybe dealing with Muslims would be a better, long term idea. However, I have no idea how it would work. Did you notice me going round in circles here?

Sunshine

The sun is shining and bathing the cold, damp land outside with that lovely yellow light. Overhead the last of the cloud is sweeping south, pushed hard by the cold north wind, leaving behind an ever deepening blue sky. Lovely! A simple thing sunshine, but even with such biting cold air it cheers the soul. For those who spend six months or more in the darkness of constant night, depression is commonplace. Many suffer here because their work keeps them indoors, far from daylight. Life can be improved for each worker simply by putting them near a large window, and letting the light shine in.

For me, if it were possible, I would be on one of those countries that endure sunshine all day long. I realise that this would be difficult to endure, bright sunshine, light, warmth, happiness, all things that need constant endurance I admit, but I am willing to give it a go! Of course, at this moment, I sit hear fully clothed, with a jacket round my shoulders, another over my knees, the heating is on, and the chill that goes through my bones is not lifted even by the sight of the sun on the park opposite.

Still, I'm happy eh?

Another Rain Soaked Monday

Gray clouds overhead, rain leaving the streets dark and wet. Folks slipping by, heads down, hoods up. Another Monday in the United Kingdom! Situated here on the eastern edge of the Atlantic Ocean we are buffeted by the winds and the rain. This does give a good harvest, unless it is flooded out of course, and produces a prosperity for some. It has also played it part in producing a dark humour, designed to make the most of mornings like these. Everywhere folk have made it to work, the weather on their lips. Some cursing, some sardonically telling others that it's 'good for the ducks', and being informed no doubt as to just exactly what the ducks can do with the weather.
For me a day of study, it says here, cleaning up, and possible despair as I remember just how good my God has been to me, and just how I withhold myself from him. Self centred, spoilt brat that I am! Will today produce a heart felt change? Or just more of the failure that I have become so used to? We shall see.

Another Wasted Week!

OK so I did look for work, and with a bad knee, no required skills and age against me nothing happened. But what else did I do? Nothing!

Piled around me are things to study, lists of jobs to be done, books everywhere crying out to be read, and on top of them all....dust! Sums me up this week. I tried, oh yes I tried, but for several days I found myself just sitting there. Not thinking anything, just blandly staring out the window, or just sitting. Actually it was quite enjoyable to do that. Instead of having to do things, read this, write that, get up and do, just sitting for a while in the quiet, with the various noises of life outside not really intruding made a restful change. I did in fact read some of the Joe Lee book. Written, unfortunately, in a 'Sunday Post' manner but worth a look nonetheless. Not enough about his time during the Great War for me, but I suppose like so many others he did not talk too much about it afterwards. The books of his adventures no doubt missed out much of the sights he saw. Those men, like soldiers today, rarely find outsiders who understand how they comprehend their warfare.

Now, after what can laughingly be called exercise, I feel more up for it......hold on, maybe another cup of tea, as everything can wait can't it? I will do the job search this afternoon maybe, and the study then also, and maybe I should just play that 'Blast Billiards' game until the Spirit moves me......

So, Maybe I was Wrong...........

It has been known.
I truly believed that I had sensed the end for me and Jesus. Sitting here I was in some degree of empty vacuousness, and all seemed at an end. However, in the time since Jesus has shown his grace and mercy to me. Once more leading me into a deeper knowledge of himself. Answering prayers that I had not quite asked and revealing his love for me, and desire to have me fully given over to him. I praise him for his answers, and am amazed at his care, and undeserved mercy.
What a God we have in this Jesus! Well, that sounds like one of those awful American Christian sites we see far too much off! I don't often talk like that, I am a wee bit more sober and Scots in my approach. But it is true however, and I am glad and want to have more of Jesus, and to be given over to him completely.
Let's go God!

God Has Chosen Me,and I Have Let it Pass Me By

It was there once.
Jesus held out tome the promise of a new life.
His power was available.
The Holy Spirit was there willing to make me a new person.
Willing to change my life for the better. To enable me to do great things for God.

I missed it.

The power was there. He wanted so much to make me new.
I found it ‘inconvenient’ and now am left, bereft.

I have once again tried to reach him, to let him in.
Once again I am aware of holding back, not opening up.
I remember the word concerning the water flowing from the temple.
How I was seen to stand in it up to my ankles, and say ‘it’s not convenient.’
How I stopped the Holy Spirit working.
I said, once again, I want to let you in.

Then as I sat down here I had the ‘sense’ that it was too late.
I had missed it.
The chance has gone.
Gods will has passed.
I am bereft.

What now?

New Years Day

New year means little to me now. Brought up in Edinburgh meant at one time it was an excuse for a drunken night out. Not that drunken meant what it does now. This was a time for greeting strangers, knocking on doors and having a good time amongst friends, many of whom you did not know and never saw again! Today it has lost its appeal for many. The attitudes are somewhat rougher and the cheeriness of the past has been replaced by a rip off mentality in a commercial celebration. On the other hand, in the thirty years since the openness of an Edinburgh Hogmany's decline, the English have discovered New Year as another time for a piss up. As if they needed an excuse! The development of a strong economy has meant an overpaid, overweight wealthy nation sees it as a right to indulge as and when they like, with no regard for anyone else. As a nation becomes wealthier the more individual and self obsessed it becomes.

The change of a calendar date means nothing in reality, it is simply an administrative system to help us know where we are in time. The significance really comes from the northern hemisphere looking towards the spring as the days get longer and the dark winter begins to pass. Maybe we should scrap Christmas and New Year and just have a celebration on the shortest day of the year. It would be more honest!

Another year but little has changed so far. The virus still makes me cough, and leaves me near deaf in one ear. The cave lies untidy all around, the TV is stuffed full of mediocrity and downright pap! A new day but not much changes in this badly run, celebrity chasing, empty, lost society of ours.

A good new year to you all, well, both of you, maybe......

Christmas Day

Time to remember that Jesus loves me! Wondering why can wait a bit longer. Time to rejoice within at his choice of sinner. Time to wallow in his love and allow self to love in return. Doing it by 'law' will not work. Time to sit back and enjoy a day.
Lunch of leg of lamb with all the trimmings. A beer, or two, coffee, and feet up to watch Christmas Day TV. And if you want to waste time, Christmas Day TV is a complete waste of time!
At this moment we celebrate the coming of the Son of God into his world by watching 'The World at War' series. We could be watching one of the many awful films that fill the day elsewhere. Mostly aimed at kids, but they are much too busy breaking thousands of pounds of gifts that arrived only a few hours ago. There will be at least one Dickens story, usually the Christmas one.
Dickens, renown for his tales of Victorian woe and vileness, yet impressed on kids as a 'must see' each Christmas.

At least the traffic is slow. Few vehicles have passed by today. However quit a few have walked past, in groups and singularly, often walking the dog. Some duties change nought!
The gray, overcast sky cheers no-one on a day like this. It never snows, but that does not stop every other advert in the land featuring that awful substance. The grayness makes depressing viewing, causing the leafless trees to look stark and bare and eerie. Hardly celebration skies!

Jesus was of course born far from this area, and nowhere neat Christmas. if we done our homework correctly we could celebrate in a warmer climate. But those who took over the northern midwinter festival, while understandable, have done us no favours. Still, could be worse.

Christmas greetings to all my readers.....if any!

Christmas at the Cave of Adullam

Once again it is that time of year. The time when shops are crowded with self-seeking, pushy, pig ignorant folks preparing to celebrate the time of goodwill to all men. The time of year when shopkeepers raise their prices so they can reduce them later by a fraction, always calling it a ‘great saving’ before Xmas is over. The time of year when daft folks spend thousands of pounds covering the outside of their house with fairy lights and plastic Santa's. Always claiming they do it for charity, and not just because they are stark staring bonkers!

This is the time of year when countless TV adverts are stuffed full of snow scenes, often Victorian. Ignoring totally that it never snows at Christmas, that snow is bloody awful stuff, and that the cheery Victorians displayed actually died in their twenties of Rickets, consumption or malnutrition! We wish you a merry Christmas, oh yes indeed! Come try carol singing at my door in Victorian dress oh yes!

Apart from the requirement to spend vast sums of money that does not exist, on goods that are not worth the expense, on kids that will forget them almost immediately and adults that give back presents that come nowhere near the value of the gifts handed to them, thus leaving one considerably out of pocket, apart from that, Christmas can be a happy time. Unless you take sick, fall down the stairs or have lost your keys/wallet/mind! All of which are possible at this time of year!

The arrival of Christmas means of course that another year is nearly finished. Once again the hair has turned a more blatant gray, the stiffness in the muscles increases, football players earning £40,000 a week look like children, policemen call you ‘dad’ instead of ‘oi!’ and the energy levels that once took you up hill and down Mrs Dale have gone and left you exhausted while watching televised football. This weariness results in an ever increasing irritation at the amount of ‘pap’ pedalled as worthwhile in the press or media. Societies incessant demand for meaningless trivia sticks in the throat like Moms apple pie. And we know what sort of cook she was! ‘Reality shows’ showing as much reality as a six pound note, find audiences in the millions. While most tend to be small minded, pig ignorant adolescents with malformed brains grown ups and intelligent folk have been known to watch, with glazed eyes, the deviants, attention seekers and psychopaths who thrill televisions high earners so much.

‘Why Should Britain Fear!’ as they used to say.

The high heat of summer saw an opportunity to obtain a red skin and itchy arms for a while. Holidaying by trundling the bike five miles up to a local village of wife swappers and business frauds made for variety. Usually this occasion brings contact with drug dealers and ‘Eastender’ species. You have met them. These are the folk that complain about those foreigners (e.g. blacks) who have moved into the area. To avoid contamination with such immigrants these folks roll up their ‘Daily Mails’ and run off to the Costa Brava to mix with thousands of others of similar mind. No curries in Spain mate, just good old fish and chips!

The accommodation continues to inspire love and devotion. Except the tiles falling off the bathroom wall into the bath, when I am sitting reading my books there. The draught round the bath since the failed attempt to line the rim has been more noticeable as the outside temperature has fallen. The video plays now, one day it will once again record, maybe. I would Google for instructions or repair on the PC but that collapsed and left me with a small laptop, which has several troubles which googling does not answer. The building itself does have a strange smell now, one I had not noticed before. My neighbour mentioned that this has been noticed only since the washing machine broke down. He moved recently. The machine is still broken....

Another Christmas bringing to an end another year of joy and happiness. This leaves us looking forward to another of the same.
Another year of mistakes and breakdowns, of disruption and those needless police raids just before dawn.
Another year off sitting in the park with a can of ’Special brew’ and muttering and growling at passers by.

It’s tradition!

Another year looms bringing the opportunity to be caught outside in a thunderstorm wearing nothing but summer wear, the same summer wear now worn for several years. Another year to find Visa bills falling through the door in a heap, another year of ‘Asbos’ caused by sitting on that bench in the park, of late night noise from folks nearby, of sniffling away at that cold that has hung around since 1987. Another year of finding the milk has run out and the shops have closed, another year of past intimates telling of their success once they have moved on. Another year of wandering round the market at closing time picking up moth eaten cabbages and such for lunch. Another year to look forward to the same as the last, and the one before that, and on and on and on and on back to time immemorial.

Another Christmas. Another cup of ‘OXO’ followed by a mouldy tangerine. Another attempt to drown sorrows in that £1:25 wine form Somerfield. (Two for £1:95) Another Christmas to look forward to, I must go and prepare......

Prostitute Killings

Five dead prostitutes naturally leads not only to a massive police hunt, but also to a media frenzy.
Nothing pleases the hacks more than sex, and sex connected to murder, and a serial killer at that, is glorious for the muck raking press of this nation. How they have enjoyed dredging up all the stories they can concerning the lives of these girls. Almost twenty four hour coverage on SKY News alone! This has gone for over a week and already there are indications of irritation among the hacks that so far no one has been found. Not that they would be trying to force the investigation eh? Claims of some being interviewed are rebutted by the police, yet those claims still appear in a press desperate to fill pages with 'Revelations!'
Suddenly prostitutes, usually regarded as 'dregs of society' are seen as 'our sisters and family.' Those who would not want them within a hundred miles of their homes tell us of their concern for the girls welfare. Those claiming to represent what they call 'sex workers' appear on every channel and paper. Concern for the girls well being is promoted at many levels.
But do they really care?

As has been stated, while all want to stop the killings and few if any would wish the girls dead, there are none who who welcome prostitutes either walking their street or working from brothels nearby. Where they operate problems of anti social behaviour mount! Women living in the area are accosted by men looking for women, the same girls worry that their men are accosted by those women working the streets! Most want them far from their children. Legalising brothels to keep the girls safe sounds a good idea. But who runs the brothels? Gangsters? Where do the girls come from? Too many here already are sex slaves from all over eastern Europe! Would they not be put through such brothels?

More important must be the actual people involved. How can it be acceptable that women should use men for money? The implication today is always that men use women, while the idea of the reverse is ignored. Human nature teaches us otherwise. If not kidnapped and used as sex slaves where do the girls come from? Most in Ipswich are drug users, 98% according to one group working among them. Girls from a variety of backgrounds hooked on Heroin or cocaine. Can it be acceptable to allow them to use 'safe' brothels while not saving them from drug dependency? We must not forget some girls go on the game for other reasons. Lack of love in their life, from childhood upwards. Inadequacy feelings, maybe they just realise that there is easy money to be made out there! Nothing in such a lifestyle is straight forward.

Legalising the 'oldest profession' would not help anyone. Care for those involved, men or women, as men prostitute themselves also, is required. Those who sell themselves have many problems and unless we recognise this we cannot help them. Allowing them areas to operate just keeps them trapped in a world that dehumanises and destroys them. The false liberals who wish to allow them freedom to operate do not wish to help prostitutes, they just dump the liberal lifestyle on them and run off and let them fend for themselves. This is not care, it is selfishness!

What sort of man or woman needs to use prostitutes? Again we see broken lives and desperate needs. Again care and understanding is required, and a more positive acceptance of responsibilities will lead to a satisfying life.

Cruel World!

For over a week now I have been suffering! Suffering such as no-one can imagine! Well, no-one but those who endure such a sickness like mine. It has threatened for weeks and eventually broke on Saturday. I was trapped indoors until yesterday, unable to sleep till last night, and that with difficulty, unable to enjoy anything that life has to offer.

Yes,I had a cold!

The 'common cold' seen by some as a mere trivial event is to those who suffer these things at their worst a cruel, demanding, destructive force that permeates the entire being and reduces the strong and mighty to dust! Yet my favourite checkout girl in Sainsburys yesterday muttered disparagingly 'Man cold.' I indicated I was dying but this received nothing more than a derogatory ' Huh.' The cruelty of women knows no bounds! Even now, my head hurts like an axe has been used on it, I can't stop coughing, menthol type sweets to enable me to breathe have left me sick to my stomach, concentration levels are feeble, and the temperature still affects me whatever it is!
The Christmas shop has been hindered,the box has not been sent, stamps not bought, other things left undone. Naturally the place stinks, all is dishevelled, and I really do not care a whit!

But I am not one to complain!

However, the cruel world that thinks a 'cold' is of no matter will soon be knocking on my door for sympathy. Then I will become like the checkout girl, 'I don't do sympathy!' Then they will be telling me how serious their 'disease' is, while I had a mere chill!

Over two hundred cold virus can be found. Each one constantly mutates and every single one has come by my door! I am convinced this one has been hanging around since that day in 1987 I got caught in the rain! Everybody suffers from them, none can escape! Yet there is no way to cure the thing? Colds and Flu, the real thing not the type of suffering I have just endured,costs the nation millions each year. Days off from work, loss of production, the suffering to young and old, even death in the already sick or feeble. Yet we dismiss this as nothing much. However, when I was working if I put 'Cold' on the sick note the manager would scowl. If however I wrote 'Chronic Rhinitis' they accepted this as a disease. That tells us how they got the job!


I have been suffering badly and getting no sympathy whatsoever! This cruel world owes me an apology!

Anti Christian Indoctrination

The rise in the attacks on Christianity is notable. While in days gone past Christians or church goers were seen as inoffensive and taken for granted, today they are opposed more and more.
Why?
Possibly the rise in the church numbers causes a reaction. Nominal churches lose members but the rise in numbers occurs where Jesus really is Lord and this always has a spiritual opposition.
Of course the change in behaviour seen in the UK in the last twenty years has led to a growth in what some call 'disrespect!' In short, consideration for others, not always a strong point, has reached a very low point. There are many who do show respect and thought for those around them, but in general the attitudes of selfishness and confrontation shoved down our throat by soaps like 'Eastenders' has been a major factor in producing a more thoughtless world.
The secular liberal attitude of the media, staffed with the, ever proud of themselves, middle classes, has encouraged a derogatory attitude to Christianity. One main reason being the loose sexual attitudes in which they wish to indulge and excuse. Another type of media is less concerned with liberalism and concerned only with sales. With twenty four hour news on Radio and TV the 'newspapers' are no longer the place to gain information in today's world. Instead 'the tabloids' encourage either 'love' or 'hate' in their readers. 'B' celebrities love lives, their doings and all around them are built up as important revelations. While in fact they are the detritus of broken lives. Readers are told to love them or hate them, but consideration of them is never ever allowed. These are people, but to the 'tabloids' that means nothing. No respect, just use them and take the cash!

These attitudes destroy decent society, and one thing that encourages this is Christianity. But in doing so it steps on the popular wrongs and suffers abuse form the 'democratic' liberals. The murder of the unborn child ad sexual deviation which destroys is opposed. As indeed are many other wrongs, but folks care nothing for that. What matters is their emotional response to those who indicate the destruction loose sexual, attitudes produce. One should know that this will always bring opposition, based on selfishness, nothing else.

This will increase in days to come, let us be aware of that.