The psychology of simplest living, via my stories of many years truly simplest living. Real ones - not earnest or pious.
Ten years a landloper. Time to tell those tales, too.
Ralphschism.com My permanent one home online started 22 feb 2023.
Start at the beginning (first 'post' - click 'older posts' bottom right hand corner ). Themes are developed and then woven together - a series of regular essays. Some in handwriting; some audio/vid.
ONLY peaceful nice content here. 07958 5263eight1
...and all around i mean you would have thought by now they're bored of every word moaning about quite normal 76 summer sun...
so just to prove a point sat half an hour innit
no protection
or top
i still have that ' itis'
bimonthlay antipolar cant stop poesieness
disorder that comes and goes in phases of deliberately antilunar bi monthly fuck off you loony lot my rhythm is off n on...
and real pagans ( workers of the land, only, thats wot the romans said! and they won...ohh yrs the Thomasinas understood that one immediately " if u luv pallies tell em to accept loss ...nobody at all in Britalin can do that for decades...why mentul elf rates equal or exceed dead Pallies...and Israelis unable to sleep either as winning by hardly fair means aint good for your inner core, either)
anyway bad v cheap camera
the problem is really that all the truly mad lecturers in psych rather than suggest " in the Anglosphere [ far more so than Nigels woposphere whom all have MUCH better mental elf, even the most successful society by all measures the Krauts] far more folk are self employed even the counsellors... and there is an inherent anxiety that we are FAR too up ourselves needing to be seen as prophets whether or not making frofit .. to consider oreven bother to think may be one underlying cause of our sweet patients anxiety ...
causal
is almost Impossible and as a philosopher of science better Hillary i can beet anyone ina Soccers duel...
[ far worse than the midday sun... the ugly tattoos....and now brollies are catching on too! i cant take this any more ever...
but then i knew that hearing her shout so nastily at her sweetest ever in the whole world 3 year old two eves ago...
thinking nobody was there to hear...
well i heard a great songwriter near 4 decades ago
and knew immediately that she alone
was The new Quen Joan...an even better tutor
but of course one could never be other than the problem, too
being there is easy Drissing..
And less easy based on straightforward morality
one even heard in princess manifestly radical love therapist centre Gweek
the way they are so horrid to their nippers on alcydruggie common by the Creek and chippie
and i could never do either ..
until to late i figured what Gabor Eckheart and all their vile fakes could have too ..
that its the only way of actual therapy
do something...for...him
a real Thing
that maybe just may work
youve no choice if you take the risk to actually live
no safety net
no public liability insurance...
nobody else really caring...
ohh yes and all those truly awful so called dreadlock men ...
had no actual at home education from even home schoolin mum..or occasionally dad
and thus imagine this claptrap, been around 40+ years ... and never worked
is antoiGerMANist
being as Einstein got ONE theory right for 200% sciencefactual fact
" the definition of....."
every therapist and ive known many as odd coffee companion's
very odd
should have that tattooed across their forrid
with a footnote
" and it applies to metoo"
which they only actually copy n paste out of whatever fatty Moore or even worse Klein they once saw unloved in the corner of some useless music fest greenroom...
for only one reason: they dont actually really value their own dull dreary dippy shroomy babes
and all secretly wish to entrap something a bit posher....
Now this is known as a fact, not only does the data sayso - and romantasy or vampire stuff doesn't count....
But the facialbod immediate reactivism is ..
always the same as if one has broken the one commandment, hers....
That states because she still does occasionally, of course everyone else is just as much...
When factoids are that 95% of those over about fifty relate facts: " well i never find the time any more and nor do any of my friends.... "
But it is the top-body gesture that immediately declares Uttermost war with one for just simply relating many year truths told by others
Than them.
They not only cannot relate to,
(constructive critique)
It is the absolute fragility within that manifests in Uttermost unearthly looking at one askance as if one were speaking alien, and they also know it is some kind of ultimate threat upon them, even if they can't listen to the words....
Because there is the upward inflection before one has even made ones point which can only be made in at least three sentences - the third being many acquaintances speaking truthfully on the walks have said exactly what i have just said, to me in person, and all are female too... and a fourth: this is not the case relting the body language of Europeans even younger ones sat, still, with a book at coast or even sometimes in the uplands...
and a fifth: and if one moseyed by, intruding " ehhh... i never see this any more pray tell what are you reading...? " the European young woman will then engage in at least an hour of EQUAL lovely debate - even arguing a different opinion as an equal, without any body language of " run!... put sunglasses on.... he must have some pervy dark web motive for speaking to a stranger..." all the Britolins do...
Anyway like in respect of books i generally seek females who manage to get that..'thing'... that next level.
always.
Exploring what it's all for...
And often its the case that blessim' blokes just can't quite let go all the way and bring things to life
(to think, the new craze so they say.... sat here.... when theyre just full of chemicals that caused a whole generation to get asthmatic...fact) a sunglassless Boz even he learned how to see...
... the point being of the unsayable nuance thats profound and poignant and 'healing' ..is that real therapy is playfully aiming for something you'll never 'get' ...even if you know you deserve...
Is one definite grindstone dust that unlocks the key that someone bent doing shamaniac vuuduu onit...
at least Mister Geller was honest and never claimed he knew what his so called powers were 'for'...
Now... there's nothing duller than wittering on about one aspect of the bod..
And the great writers - those Eurobabes, i don't even need to read Françoise's
magnifique, Bonjour... to know that even at age eighteen she didn't need to titillate with any silly titty stuff never mind any fluids collecting in the gusty...
Indeed even first chapter, he had always bored me in the past with his nattering and showing off but there is was hot and sweaty on the breezy heatwaving beach... i didnt want to even say Bonjour to him...creep... but instead of waffling on her kjust put a hand on me as he tried to figure how to impress me with yet more waffle...
and for the first time even if i utterly hate him.....something stirred inside me
And one certainly doesnt need any detail or attempted pervy shock treatment via words that all English attempt to come up with ...
Only a people most uneasy about what even Minnie in her speculum song ...
and of course being nonwhite and pretty she could get away with ANYthing even if the first equal greatest soul sister of all time.... i bet nobody even pondered the double entendre possibilities... because they are always secondary to true soul...
Just as all modern literature is some rehash of Homer's big fat not that well written one even if i love the dawns...
All modern musac unless show-off classical, or most rediculous 'choir' nonsense the land hides behind... pretending chummy "community" when its by far the most atomised land in the EU....
Anyway even a yank in his Abortion got it that the best writing about sharing bodily fluids is one where they arent even mentioned..one imagines them and their undercover action...
now all i care about is there is no hope.... I didnt reaise it was this bad....
in the regions where im sure they all say " and these phones have ruined humanity " at supper of sourdough flavoured yoghurt
95% of those wandering by EVERYwhere in this first equal summer to that glorious one that made me fifty years ago!
now i know why and who i am..
even earlyish morning on a walk...out of their town..
they are 95% on their phones...
i really am a different species twice over
but as the battery dies notes to do....
I CHANGED TWO LIVES
EVEN IN THE LASTERYEAR
HERON AND HIS BOTTLE... they wont thank me but it worked - a true Drissing.....
Anyway culture to come a thoughtful attempt at actually being a cultural critic of even the greatest culture, which always has within, words...
and almost nobody for some years ever manages any new perfect ones
to guide us into...
what you need to DO....
And it's not just walkin'....
Its knowing why...
not to escape or find...
Is genius.... never mind the purpose of therapy or mindful of fuck all as only persisting
and knowing whom, for...
works
And i bet she never even knew.....
just how much so
exactly (no cross fertilisation....) what my landlope.com
is about
the ONLY word they never argue with me, by default...before its even explained in five sentences or a book never to bother writing as its about nobody nowhere and only all the time in the world to....
never mind, never monetise...
every single one... " that sounds a lovely thought idea practice.."
so yes even if also i picked out a few choice meaty paragraphs to taunt with, out of context, for subversite, fun...
i have something to say on this little bit of actual culture, that i never in a 25 thousands failed years may i have imagined they ever could have...
soon.
So yes it is hard, not " ohh woe is me" hard just in fact, with all the twenty years (plus) of time wasters, but twebnty years ago to the week i had space at last to ponder only why they waste it
And it's interesting - far more so than some towny yank being able to empathise properly with the woman who every guy in every bar and mall immediately would have one thought only in his mine, upon seeing her cleavage...
And what a wonderful book bringing her to life.
I knew one of them once, well, and i always did only empathise and see it from her perspective, the stares...
(made in the county of stares)
And then at last..... one who doesn't live in fear. A virgin... pukka first time errr.... born n bred virgintoo
" your peeps... well i think its because they really don't have anything else to spend their mind on, other than being little Thatcherites, whilst pretending otherwise... I've never known such sour starers... "
And a true woman of nomadic first timeing, does in fact know the truth...
why she is running from, them.
Now all i know, is that to be unable to say or write anything gracefully, every photon of energy mattered, always; even midsummer a warming up of the laptop BEFORE turning it on may give just a minute more...
Which is all a well understood absurdist enterprise, for free, in that a letter like that... I had no idea i still had in me. But it's only because of the stingy hundreds or thousands who peer in here, why i have no idea nor do i ever google anyone, especially onesself, nor will i ever as i know whats what from living in the light, and being always INSTRUCTIONAL to a willing virgin....
But the last laugh is on you, as a lack of buying me a coffees when the ultimate van bimbo who was always a fake (my mutual subversite would laugh too) .. gets big tips..
based only on her hair regime tips..
As she hyrocarbonates all over Europe, it turns out just looking for some man to give her a free pad to do up...
In the ultimate of tourist destinations with free running water paid for by tourist bucks, when even the tourists have to pay a levy to the 'town'.... for their water in a place there really isn't much left
But then her generation even if they did have the opportunity to learn to think being only a decade younger than me..
had so little chance really when onslaughted with the worst kind of propaganda in history...
I love collecting
Not that any one of them would be able to see the other dimension of how all the words were turned on them....
Making them feel them needs something they never imagine they can do without...as the words tell them they're better people by following all their words...
(she'll never have me back despite her wildflower habit)
" moan moan moan.... midday, no hat, and only one cup of water in my bot
to save weight
I tried to die...... only want to but didnt have heat stroke, nor any other of your afflictions....."
And more important than anything else,
there isn't any 'key' to the rusty padlock
NOR do you oil it, so as to unlock .... any of them
Long ago i discovered that losing is the natural state
How.....ever .. the matter that is anti matter,
to all that ever mattered, even if lost.
Is collecting up all the swarf (mixture of ground off metal and grindstone dust - the side effect)
from below the grindstone
which will grind you down as there are a far few bastards around
And anyway blessem they need to win, poor things
And deftly shoving all that swarf into the rusty lock mechanism
That frees it. At least in my sane dimension.
It's the exact opposite of what they say the lock will need
And only that engineering process may just, in time, free up all of it.
And in fact even if my rusty hole is long ago filled up with that aqua vitae, gunky swarf...
And i knew it worked....
Well ok it needed one smallest catalyst.
Exactly! there was no catty list
Head aside - that 'look', i must still describe
when one began the perfect conversation.
All three.
Anyway if i forget and die before i do
List. Almost by some miracle, that little American book -novel,
well hot damn! ... I raised myself on Edith and even Mister Cheever so as to know what booze does, to all and sundry.
And have to admit Mister Fitzgerald could be truly beautiful. Though pretty much only interested in pretty City boys one assumes. And being no cynic i agree that even if it's taking rather a long time, it was a start!
Had the French Revolution not happened, leading to Mister Paine to wish to do a bigger better Disney version his side of the pond...
Well not 'his' technically...
Having failed the civilised side and nowhere else to go
Nevertheless so many 'universal human rights' projects all over the world were inspired, by the copycat one...
Anyway hot damn i thought she was black...
But at least she was obviously propperly daddied and also secure in knowing he was doing the right thing....
Before A. C. Lee became a title lawyer, he once defended two black men accused of murdering a white storekeeper. Both clients, a father and son, were hanged
Yea yea even if such a completely different part dinosaur part mad Utopian kindergarten American literature was certainly inspired too by them Frogs....whom inspired those big fat statue chisellers...
But i have never found a TRULY modern one..
I mean one that kicks into touch all the old stuff, all the stupid god fearing bullshit...
(except for Edith i guess)
One that also tells a woman's real life story in real life, as it is now like it lump it or get over it...(inadequate statement there, needs refinement) . so superbly.....
It was impossible to find this...
Mister Cheever's really rather ennui laden modern man and his alcoholic doll (always makes me think of THE great British writer who wrote me a letter in my mid 20s that was unlike anything anyone else had ever written.... and then she became a lush....and is teaching your children....)
And then in an act of never despairing kindof boredom i picked up this strange thing..
written late 60s
NO stupid Hate Ashbury or whatever showoff fake hippie stuff, even if set up the road...
That book should not exist!
And being an antiYank (as we knew to be
from the splendid Tariq Ali
racistly i always forget to be first equal atop the podium, with Pilger
even if neither had the balls to say what they meant - Britain maybe just a tad more concentration, camp CIA
as the pomp and performance so brilliantly PR developed so as to con the whole rest of the world
of course not here...)
voodoo hocus pocus to continue, soon....
In fact really, as we meandered the hills me shoving swarf - years and years of it collected, almost up their noses...
And them not even irritated....
Indeed nosebags were invented for those immune to sneezing
That won't be understood in a land where EVERYone is performatively 'allergic' to something....
(the actual data stating actual official rashes you come out in pretty much constant; rate of reportage of something bringing you out in a rash.. double if not treble.... the way you all went just so
wonky
should be a comedy, it makes me snigger so
as nothing could, them... as they know like me its serious, and laugh out loud at it all for that very reason)
So...in five dull years, off on one's whoop whoop "I'm free! .." vanlife....
A word i decry almost as much as radical shamaniac mindful on nothing at all about anyone else except the 'self' and what supplements or detoxes might keep it supposedly tuned up and even functional - which is as boring as it gets.
Five years ago, up permanently into the hills, at first; and then the knowings, that it's all hopeless up here...
And in five years I've only hear one interesting line that may indeed have been hopeful... " I don't need you to fix it..... if I have a bag of the right tools I can learn to do it myself..."
Which even if a better line than anything that Minnie could have warbled at the top of hers.... is sort of sad in that THE one thing that being a rural person is, or was....in 'modernity' - which did begin some decades back even if it went into reverse.. along with the rotten hulls dragged out of the smelly creek, unloved and unfixed, in time, which is before the rot sets in...
Sad because woman and man toiling together under the drying sun is a splendid thing and the only actually mindful thing I have ever spied from a distance, and just occasionally managed to grab her by her hems...
even if real country lasses know that skirts are rather impractical... and we really should have evolved out of themtoo, by now...
free substack audio
even if it crosses free speech lines and would get me hunted down, if they actually ever did read or listen thoughtfully, without distraction, and heard
What killed off me, and the countryside, twenty years ago... and a little incongruity, neigh inconsistency...in your 'equality'
It's almost as if as was obvious twenty years ago, the side effects,
niegh
ricochet
leaden weight...
will have inadvertent consequences.
One cannot even explain to the latterday lumpen lot
Anyway even Albert's lass Catherine must have become a tad Marine, if she complains at the arab sisterhood being a bit "woke"
But... talk about timely. Even if I am a year late. That biggest of all questions.
"Est-ce que tu aimais ta mère ?" I wish someone would ask me as 'radical love' has other elements, too, such as is a concept good for the common good, too.
But in certain instances the judgement must include the future.
Despite their number one moron monetising the Now...
Anyway what is the perfect true zen state to ..Bea(tify)
Even if the grubby motor mecanic Pirsig couldnt see it in a month of sundays had he been meandering aimlessly on foot, slowly... for his whole lifetime.
And it certainly is holding no grudges at all in any way infact even if i have magnificent memoirs despite disliking that word immensely as it suggests some old wrinkly thing back bowed fuming away at his desk grumbling " his turn next...is he dead yet? cant afford the lawyers bills if he picks a fightback..?" and the best 'memoir' is hidden away in something else that is based only on energy and sunshine ..
And mad fantasy as of course this was just a film even if the only sex scene ever in cinema that is actually erotic...
and maybe the Londoner - and you can dress up in kilts and castles all you want and even con the world via your posthumous wikkipage, and pretend to be a Highlander ... all Lairdly, and mountainman, but if you are sent to some London private school, that's what you are...
lost to London.
... had he met an actual equal*
in his teenhood, and realised that there is nothing more desirable than indeed....
one who can fix stuff and even get in the bairn without any neopropene gloves to show off (photos to come one day), even... when she knows nobody is even looking...
He may have ...well...i wonder if it was her whom inspired the female part?....
sadly she was always hiding from me...
well, except once....
Where was I? ohh yes grudges and grinding axes
(I MUST remember the clogman scene from a decade ago - all that stuff you hear especially now, on " we want more bombs ehh how do we pay ohh yes all those dole scroungers..." well in fact this is proportionately not true..i did a 'data dive' and the comparisons across the EU are interesting...later and i know i don't have to hurry as there is one thiong for certain which is the ex private school boys/girls.. meedia ...basically the same thing, can never ever even manage one lateral thought regarding the bottom third... and ask one small question about the dole cash... " and how much goes on housing"
anyway councillor Clog... some years of Mexican standoff as anyone with a brain knew to avoid the fake cowboymen who invaded - first wave around 40 years ago - even if a dribble of sticky smelly resiny stuff... on the coattails of Zeppelin who only ever had a second home they only went to once in the wildlands... likely scared of spiders...
and yes the ones who are really thick played out Easy Rider or whatever other rare intelligent reflection upon reality America managed, unfortunately somewhere where most rednecks were unarmed and thus they chose the fantasy smiley version that all blokes on very noisy motorcycles are welcome to work on it all day at full throttle close to where their ex girlfriends lived...to piss her off, over a decade..
despite being councillor..
now, that's her fault for not dealing with him like an equal...
but when after some months of tolerating a local youf in a terrible pickle - thrown into the cave of benefits as all the social workers too cowardly to do their job....
" ... look Mister Counsellor, i hear him sometimes.... when walking by his open window left open for a reason...
" i mean its funny when he calls the ambuklance service on speakerphone and tghey refuse to come all 40km and pick him up as clever little drug addict he knows thats the only way he gets a free bag of chips from them waiting his turn in the traffic jam outside the hosp....
"having spent all his disability cash on skunky stuff...
" THATS clever!!! he's a genius! and what acting skills!....but seems they rumbled him i heard recently out of his window him screaming for emergency attendence...they figured at last that every time they come out to him theyre taking him back home ten hrs later without needing any actual treetment....
" anyway i heard him recently screaming at his dad of course he was never around even though living in tghe same small interbred dump... he was last resort screamto person...and i heard himn at a weak moment when clearly he had forgotten his window was open...
"screaming...
"well that kind of scream only comes from some kind of 'love' or feeling even if you all say he has none..
' dad... dad you GOT to help me im going mad staying in all day watching telly all these last five years of my whole adult life.... ...i NEED A....JOB!!
'get me a fucking job... i need to do SOMEthing...'
" now i dont really know anyone well round here as i live here for the only reason there is to live here the walking just up there you never see any of the local ill or anyone walking so that's my happy life....
" and i suggested to him a few days ago i would help him draft a cv if he wished and immediately came the accusations that i was a defo fan of young men for surreptitious reasons....
" and anyway i dont know all the local business you will, in your JOB.... in the smalltown as councillor.... so maybe you can see if someone around might give hima leg up..a start somewhere..its what HE wants i know as i heard iot with my own two ears.... from about 5km away in the hills..."
"[a look of amazed amazement anyone in our wonky hamlet would speak with him uninvited] .... ... you gotta be kiddin.. the little rat can rot in hell ..."
despite it being his job... councillors do get paid especially when she is their clerk and in charge of the expenses float..
As the public record doth state)
Anyway the ... second wave that arrived the Shaktis all of them of course not one would have ever understood what transparency and accountability meant as gradually they sought to cash in on the patronage purse..
Having slowly grabbed all the 'community capital' - fancy bigword for goodies only have so much time to spare...
Especially - i do mean especially, not incidentally, but BECAUSE
(last time i pinch an image from online but my my the time it saves! i do have hundreds of tghousands of photo realism snaps my own copyright i would never dream of stamping "MINE fuck off" but the time to get them out and reorganise them into decades ...i just cannot find, battery time i mean...
and these are the REALLY dangerous ones.... i wonder why... it seems to be the ultimate atomised creep statement whist pretending to be Jahhhh love..
Just ask my lass's first crush if he managed to survive his rastadad who came in....
with my friend - the ONLY one i always totally respected..the one who proves that she is bulletproof and constant...
(until... and that's the real story of 2020)
But it was him, back then.... a wonderful secure funny woman mum of his two nippers...
And there is not only nothing wrong with but my lass their lass ... mine would always share her ferrets.. with her friends - guide them guru them into how to deal with fierce country animals as country volk had done for ever...
That was the idea....
And it worked...
Except for him.... I mean the painted on smile that goes with the silly matted hair, is one thing but to see it dissolve as if dipped in pure meths and spat out in your face .... exactly the exact opposite of their aesthetic: stupid 'one love' parties, stupid fake van life...
was fascinating
even if sad too....
And of course i understand why the Shaktis (who did become MAJORITY as of around 2015 ish....) ... well....
to be cont
(and eating dogs is a bout generalisations from another note i forgot i had that really rather well sums up their Teletubbine fanatisism... i mean basically i guess the way it went, from 05ish and on...if you and your so called teachers TELL everyone they are lovely and innocent and so so unique... and my prob is i am no 'ist' and certainly no 'libertarian' as i aint stupid that ends up with fat yanks getting fatter as a word picture / parable /allegory, for all sorts of appetite that is bad for us... yes but all the clever dick 'psychologists who are starting to have a go at their sisterhood BIGtime.... [ at last the FULL pak is back! ..i shall put in refs later]..... it really is all just down to a whole thing of TELLING people how wonderful they are... especially at gatherings of the zombies like Glastonbury and in fact any 'festival' since about 1999... if that becomes your - YOUR, sales pitcch - to false compliment everyone around including the teens in your care...
i mean above all as HAidt is reified! tye stupid silly man didnt even notice it began some years before his 'social media' all his thick boyman skull could ever manage to ponder.... the scary thing - i mean REALLY scary...is that his flock have bought it hook line and....it will sink you....)
Anyway where was i i only have one smallest grudge and prejudice as having spent an evening in the company of the most horrid boozers ever who ruined my chances with the Nanas...
Never mind being responsible for so many dead flies - EVERY insect counts when the official data is something like 60% died this century after alighting on his ,makeup box left open in the sun him drunk in a bush next to it..
or in my plane
which was in fact THE Nanas...
Even if i wouldnt have touched one of them witha barge pole even in their prime as only fixing things is actually sexy....
Ideally in conjunction with real songs...
funny thing is it never occured to me what it was about...i mjust skip to the next one that isnt about horrid violent things being a shrinking violet all my life...until
bloody hell he needs cancelling!
* the bit about generalisation oops the sequence is an EQUAL first...
They The Thomasinas of course as soon as i said it their eyes lit up and true conversation began...
ugghhh.... i love my (non) Struggle to quote the entitled title, of the worst book - almost ever - of course the radio4babes love him the ultimate stroppy childman with nothing to say...as he looks nice...
all three thousand dilettante effete pages ever, i read em all....
bu8t i cant show it all there is so much more this is just tghe tip of the iceberg for five years...ten really
and the only iceberg who ever put in any coffee money poor thing so adrift at sea hasnt the first clue as to ...well, even grow up...
same age as me
I would have thought he may have a little solidarity in him...
He did know what a true most dangerous harridan his mum was..
And ...well even his father, if that's to be believed...
Though of late, errata i realise, i have been far far too nice..
loads of them this year especially as if one often takes ones afternoon nap in the hills on the grass, without any spray in sight....
(of course that was the first 'master slave' nonsense... bantering at the little ticky 'toolkit' they all think nowadays is the root saviour in everything...when actually it's merely laughing at them, all, always... that's the saviour of all, and leads to great sleep always )
so the trooffff.... is never one dimensional, but at least there is a hidden dimension in most matters that matter, in that when one has all ones time wasted never mind all ones life sucked out of one, vampirically, even from the other side of the world....
giving up, even if I always act as if the best thing mutually will come to pass... still, i.e. notionally, provisionally; well freedom from having to actually communicate ones care has at least left one a tad more energised.... or maybe just tennish remarkably good little books in a month in the hills... and a return to the first. Which i knew was cheesy a bit sillybilly....a bit showoff.... but it turned out i couldn't put all 500 closely printed pages down... and thus really did end up with a propper tick fest..
in tribute to him and his life and death trudging through swamps filled with all sorts of nasties... no choice, death, or life..
and before sunhats or waterbottles were invented
(i LOVE her she called me thisteraft an 'aboriginal'.... sweating in the sun at her weeds.... but i love her for far far more real reasons than cheeky banter... that only the Northerners know about ....i told her the story.... she told me their names)
Now...a long time ago in fact 2020 i invented a kind of new advertising, working title 'gonzo advertising' where not only do you NOT smile... you do have to tell your REAL story over a period (no 'celebrity' or even fake eco man such as packham i hear on the wireless, always, as if he's the only one, could ever do - it's not compatible, truth and being known UNLESS....you have watched Land of The Blind and took it in, right propper ) so that the punters know that not only can't you lie, but always expect the truth = the worst, and also having been a single parent one knows how around 20 years ago they all got so so crafty and engineered everything to look like it will last for some years, whilst indeed using raw materials even more cheap and flimsy than ever, and likely to not last even a week... even B+O .. even quite a few top brands....
In short real advertising that has your name and phone number with it so conned people can phone up and slag you off if your review or smile is false as they all became...
And when EVERY pound counts as mine have for decades i resent even spending one, even if that one i don't think i did....
But was a good investment even if i paid in blood and the even more valuable currency, so so much time...
a photo entitled 'man management'
In that a REAL woman of the hills not only doesn't nag she also knows how to make her manslave happy
As just cos they went and invented some so called Constitution to be all 'Enlightened' two and a half centuries back, all a slave really wants is a bit of decent nosh..
And....
though every art installation expert in the world could not manifest the most extraordinary five dimensionality in this picture.
So i better write that story one day...
But cannot yet! due there's no real free speech...
The first easy dimension " ehh up luv, bosslady.... ive fallen in love with you already.... itoo leave little hippy bits of wildflowers in their lawns in fact its my stamp...mine... all i care about even if often a battle ...but you have a whole lawn of hippy wildflowers gosh they are as lithe, alive and beautiful as you...and i'm not bantering now."
how....ever.....
The dimension you really do want to encounter
Is a most wise old bird, (ewwww him....god another reason to leave, Manchester always was full of Pandy Panted fakes...")
" ... we lived fifteen years out there.... I adored Nelson.... ok we lived in a gated community with real security guards and landmine topped walls.... but when i returned here..... gosh it had changed..... even up here in La La land ..... i feel LESS safe here than i did than even back there.....even in the times of delightful rather chubby Michelin Man style rubber necklaces, you knew where you were with the folk there...
"here.... i fear almost everyone .... and as for the tragedy of the young men... no they dont put that in the tourist guides... as you say i wouldnt drive on the roads after dusk either....ever... as three of them high on drugs proved recently...
" so beautiful they were too...."
"DYER KNOW WHAT you beautiful woman... ... you are the ONLY one this whole region, errata Englandborne, i know i can tell you one of several tragic real truths....
" my many year last hills.. you meander well i did all the mentally ill there dont ever get up anywhere and thats just the ones without an official diagnosis..
" but maybe once a month i may see someone up on the paths there ... and one was fully alive and honourable - as walkers always are or were, if our paths crossed, and we chatted true chats, and even bantered...
" i never truly hated being a man until i arrived in this region....
"any woman one spies out in the wilds, or even in a park....
" if one is even slightly on a collision course.... as a people watcher and noticer of all things outdoors i notice often from one hundred metres they tense up... their posture changes... and nobody knows me in this region.... i feel a frequency of vibrating hostility or fear or whatever it is but it is truly horrible.... i had no idea it was like this in Other Parts...
"its so sad... and there's no way back from it....do you know what i am speaking on?"
" yes....even i old and rinkled and ive lived my life.... and arent even afraid of lions in the jungle.... here, i walk only in ...fear.."
"leave radically beautiful one... you are not too old.... you really arent your posture is amazing, and your embodied flow superb.... as if you did do hot radical yoga every day all day instead of laugh at my jokes about it.....
"let me tell you about a place i didnt ever want to go...knew for a fact no doubt at all, immediately i would be stabbed the moment i got off the plane as Wikkipedia said it was the poorest place in South america.... and...."
To, NOW.... be continued, as there is only one energy...and it isn't anger.
It's just never being afraid of any truth. Even if i am a perv and it turns me on... all the true version of the horrors of all of it.
But that's not enough, you have to be able to weave it into something real and and bit animal spirit and parable polemic but in disguise such as the only time a child in literature has ever been used correctly...as Jerzy's 1965 vehicle
for grown up reality
and i do it all bloody day in my head, notepads, even sometimes in the occasional person-to-person communique...
But then nobody ever seems to value any word any more...
And mine are so valuable in that even a page or two uses up a whole days allowance of laptop..
to find something useful, and 'communal' in the so called (by themselves, even if they wouldn't be able to read the book from the great year, ninety eight, and realised Michel's magnum Les Particules élémentaires may be a parable about youtoo... and me, so be careful) ' tribes'.... invading even up in OUR hilltop jungle, My Family and Other Animals, paradise... of " i know who is the smelliest animal up on this hill, dad..."
In fact that sums it up, none of them could teach their children humour, means, always youtoo...
The invasion of the one dimensionalistas...
Now... twenny years... where'd they go....?
Well in fact into my rather good - errata, exactly average, mind...
That grew out of all substances, thirty eight back, and did some real 'learnings' on itself from twenny five ago,
" ok living up away from them all
[ ... ALL its about is competition for scant resources, from the one woman left who doesn't need a showoff bag just to go for a walk in the hills, or who can fix her own child's bicycle; as sure as ferrits are, your don't care for your oft stated cared for kid
if you don't train yerself FIRST to fix all their stuff, rather than leave it in a big pile as 'art' project by the back door ...not even under a tarp. too... just in case some fixin chap may meander by and stick around long enough to tolerate you and your endless " well i think you've got hasburgers..".. [ [their first sweet little diagnose-job used from twenny years ago to tell you how much better they are than you]]
while latterday, as soon as they had grabbed all the signal down in their Lowlands...
inside all night writing PR posts about how you so so ...care...about all muvva naycher's this and that.... ]
"to the rural trickle - drip drip drip...of hardly any internet signal....
" well all there is to it is to retrain onesself to always get up at 5 am ish if i care for my kid, as the only way i can make a bit of income to put on her plate AND be there super zenned for her plate of scrambled eggs [ cheating due time, fry ... and then mash up saves TIME, especially on pan cleaning, so one can save time to TEACH kids... especially in Wales where the 'education' was so officially awful they will entirely ruin your kids basic inner musical setting - as diagnosed by leading orchestral bloke German Order of Merit for services to yoof music, her so called almost godfather eventually deigned to diagnose... ..
and thus a real parent despite utterly decrying all musical creation, understanding of, wanting to know anything about how it works, ever.... has to even teach himself some basic recorder ....
...as lovely other household in this lovely land will even deliberately sabotage the child-stated wish to get good at her instrument....
four years plodding along ... learning together... going through the real Worst Journey in the world...
on behalf of another.... ]
breakfast on the table by eight and so full always engaged as is required for real childfarming, one is 'present' one hundred percent even one ear on the scales... mobile phone always off even if rare to even have a bit of signal wafting up... means retraining oneself to get up at 5ish if one actually does care to parent...."
yes scant resources.
Now, your average, incame the 'tribes'
Well in fact they weren't very, despite that being their, then-buzzword...
We met the first one day up in our hills.
In fact she was parked on the verge up from our extremely remote crows nest at 426.72 metres.
Shakti... who can be named as later on one would hear SO so many of her victims be rather frank about her....
And she ended up stealing a LOT of public money - which includes public internet 'love', they all learned to monetise from around 2010-15...
Obviously not her real name.
Anyway it was so lovely to have an interesting supposedly 'cosmopolitan' fine real women up there wandering the hills, with her little 4 year old...
(until of course a few months later having platonically taken them under our wing - a very isolated 4 year old lad..)
At least i knew one fact, that somehow her ('tribe's') plan to have the 2007 anniversary European Rainbow Gathering in the wilds of Craswall - about the remotest part of England one can find, our fuckin' territory! shakti was scouting on behalf of (so she said) "there will be thousands coming together in pure harmony and love"
Indeed how interesting Yugoslavia got them instead - that explains a lot! How i guess even they got infected by a pandemic of, nothing real...
The 2007 European gathering, the 25th recurrence of that annual event, took place in Bosnia-Herzegovina. The subsequent European Gatherings took place in Serbia (2008),
when even then, 2006, shakti's tribe was at very unpleasant nuclear war with another faction of the tie dyed and fake rasta hairjobs... so called 'Rainbow' tribes ...about who would get the glory. And they schismed...
anyway thats one rather long interesting story that's off piste as its the way that the slightly more 'middle class' of even The Marches adopted their whole fake gig thats SO interesting, when Shakkers was such a loony lost one that despite every word coming out of her gob around their tribal campfires about the young lads father being the embodiment and crystallisation of total universal energy of love...
the mad witch (errata thats an insult to the real ones on broomsticks i have a thing for) never let him near his son...
" ... ahh yes... well we found him like out of a PAulo Coehlo book there sitting by some lovely wild River Piedra weeping tears of pure joy and love......in the wild lands of Portugal...and knew then even if Corro wasn't born he was our twinflame [ errata i dont think they had invented that one yet] ... eternal whatever... and as we...journeyed..in love, i mean journeying carried forth by the love of the universe... there came a time that we must separate. and.... well even if his love is always here next to us even if he lives now in the Swest.... and i didnt run away here to avoid talking to him no the lay lines of here 'called'us and RAnbow inc are paying for my petrol.... but ...well..if i took him to father and left him for even an afternoon for him to walk in love with his starseed oneson.... well.. he's from Portugal where they eat meat and he may give him a sneaky hamburger.... and that would poison our divine son-soul .... so in fact we havent seen him IN PERSON for some years... but we see him every moment in love as he walks with us..."
Now.. this was a VERY very smart ex office worker from some suburban smalltown...down South...
A true genius....well for a few years until even her 'tribe' got fed up with the bills never getting paid...
their 'community' space phone bill.. etc cet...
And nowadays - well four years ago last i randomly encountered one of her victims - an older woman working in a cafe in Knighton, was told, runs an official "community" arts space on public cash...well not obviously..
Anyway that sound like i have an axe to grind...
Not in the slightest.
I speak propper 'hippy' as i was fortunate enough to 'run away with' the archetypes - a few of...
the younger brothers and sisters of the original first wave who were just about still clinging on to the rocks of high N wales - about ten in total spread throughout a very large territory...
And the propper pukka ones do properly look after their younger siblings, and educate them too... " no booze thats for the rednecks football hooligans, and moronic wifebeaters... .... a little LIGHT mellow weed maybe in lieu... "
and even.. the lost language, of true hippy, lost as of about twenty years ago, when
" i wouldnt DREAM of putting a generator on after maybe seven at night as it would disturb the sleep of the children ....and peace of all of us winding down into enjoying the evening campfire... and if i did have one i would try and site it as far away as we can from the living areas..."
could hardly any more be understood by the (newer monetising variant) children as mum and dad had forgotten their muvva tongue...
Even i had become fluent in long ago...
But then... apart from having a splendid in your face, re-introduction to what one saw beginning thirty years ago or even 1992 ...
and more importantly knowing that we two...alone
By being their real friend... 'welcoming' them into our hilltop world...
Of course she never returns to but we still run her around - the car having been pinched too as well as lovechild, in their Glasbury-on-Wye Lowlands 'campsite' just to enjoy some of her supposed 'liberal' speak...
as good example to child...
Learnings
softly softly ....one - well two, as even a 7 year old knew it was a bit weird and mentally post Houllebecquian that her new rather beloved little four year old yurt-dwelling friend under her wing...
may be a bit better off if he ever saw his dad again, and mum seemed to be rather fairy-prone.. off with them... word wise..
And that was the LEADER of a fairly extensive 'tribe' of ..they incame
Not a one off loon on the run - but the first of many of them,
that thencame (smelling the fools gold, mutton-dressed-as-rotting-lamb of Hay-on-Wye down below, from 200 or even 300km in an SE direction)
and she didnt even do their "shrooms" or weed ....
a real puritan, guzzling wise, only reason i let her anywhere near my puritan life... and the most perfect iteration of the brutal machine of me(her)... under the tie dye..
(As so many iterations of archetypal her, whom followed ...only more and more confirmed)
(...wow my first Job...in .... the eye of their storm)
Anyway..... having a minor gig as 'citizen revolutionary' from 2006, even if couldn't care less, as not one understood, how the law may come and bite their ass too so learn... develop.... one did care enough to occasionally try and guide a few
" here is a great movie.....if you can't be bothered to read a proper book, well this will save you time, make even your dreadlock clad fake of a boyfriend watch it at least now'n again........it's about ALL of ustoo, from so called tribal Rainbowites to the PAndies to come...
"it simply says that the confirmed 100% for certain goody, who is being treated very nastily by the confirmed very nasty baddies....
"when or if by some literal miracle eventually said goody crawls out from his decade long torture chamber... and bit by bit is miraculously seen as in fact the one that the baddie society worshipping their chief baddy... needs to lead them forward into 100% certain confirmed only-goodness.....
" and the goody gets power....
" s/he must check his arse for ticks every day, always... as its the nature of things that almost all goodies become blinkered fascist baddies... and someone gets hurt...
"...even if unintentionally by their best intention (nowadays 'intentional' the newbuzz) .. community...of fellow 'goodies' ....
"that means all of ustoo always forever.... pereceived goodiness ALWAYS goes to the head and clouds the actual bad acts..of the confirmed goody... so check daily always from all dimensions.... if you are still being universally 'good' to as many as possible.... utilitarian without the weird national socialism kinds of dead ends that can also lead to.... ..ustoo...always.... i do... i learned...."
The 'tribes' the tie dyed the running away from the (officially 'registered' someone told me 2008ish) 'goddesses' of Glastonbury who had stolen all their money on fake cures and therapies and healings...
Even after Shakti had ripped them off royally
Nobody could ever any more...listen.
To what even a thick Yank was able to communicate so splendidly
with a real performatively useful performance....
(not staged
but the key-to-life therapy of them all is merely in a toothbrush, being even the maddest Harridan of them all.... left one great piece of wisdom behind in her wake...
even if they only last a year.... every time i find a new half price one i smile.... and put the lid on my waterpan " you call yourself an environmentalist well matey you would use a third less gas if you always put the lid on your one pan fits all, when boling the water, FAKE!"
I listened...
And i have the best twenty year chronicles ever...
but they will unless theres a miracle die with me
Back to the point
Now...
when 'they' - as they are all archetype, poor Carl would never in a million dreams dreamed up (dream therapy the biggest con of all, i know i have two a year and the last two have been lovely perfect peaceful smiling laughing perfect conversations me and her ...and you certainly NEVER act on dream or even syncredent coincidence... ever! the fairies leave it up to US to deal with the dodgy choices of who..or whom..?. and how... )
so when the Shakti+plusses ... then started to arive.... ex office workers probably even from some Royal bureaus of bullshit fake 'environmentalism' as per thistermorn...
they would say things like " this venue must be made far more user friendly to the 'community'.... ..."
"[2015ish]ehh great... well i saw the 20 grand grant you got for new bogs you didnt really need... but anways theres NOwhere cultural for Lister's mum to take her three young kids to, even if your 'venue' is only worth about a ten minute meander but we do appreciate it and use it ...! even me couple times a year i cycle past put my nose in.... and its lovely to meet Lister there with his single parent mum who can only afford to go there as its ...free..... so, i do hope you maintain that aspect of your 'community' space..... rather than some space cadet version of... well we are getting rather tired of all this .... ohh you will keep it exactly as it is, new grant funded [and of course posh money venue funded 'by donation' tax free.... government double up.... ].... community space even for once better off Lister's mum and her three younguns who so love to meander your artsspace, even if not very good.... [many photos soon one day] ..."
of course Mister archetype ....
in his new community 'arts' job
(the last tribe of office workers hand in till off you go)
But this one is the real deal, credentials, in official lovey community far more professionally community rolling out to all the community
Quite unnecessarily as i knew what their 'books' said.
First thing he does
A fiver...for each of her three young kids
and hertoo..
Makes, a week's basics shopping money
and...
to be cont but each of my images and artefacts often has at least three stories behind it and its the only reason i have them out even with superb memory
(the Shaktis as soon as they hear of that of course their insides twist and turn the ground up glass of the mirror they long ago swallowed so as to never see any true reflection.... still in the colon some undigestable reality even they cant quite entirely shit out.... shat and gone.... starts to grate...)
and ever mention my long ago only enjoyed yogi teabag label (came to my household via the devil - and he not even a half fake hippy)
of course its only anathama
to archetype
as they all one and all always were
The annoying thing is i bet i shall outlive each and every one of them, despite never taking any 'cure' or 'medicine'
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