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
.... yes, that's really all there is.... even if 'tneeds to be wordpicked
apart
in thisterdawn's merguls (that was Suzi's word - never rit online i looked,
fair dinkum even if... god only knows
but then i did see her mum's 'baby book' rit theretoo.....)
Mine - the one who i adopted, and adopted me, was a true Gabriel.... Oak... of a man, of the land. It's impossible to be more "feet grounded right innit"
The ultimate yokel, peasant, even if fifty years on i still often wonder where his beret came from.
But yes a sprog of geologist, or biologist, even if secondodary next phyla down from us - Ralph and I, all day all weathers out on it
often up to or wellie ankles innit
finger tips frozen half the winter digging postholes innit
exactly. dad... or stand in
engaged in this planet the one we wander meander even attempt to understand with science and speculations
As me and mine did all day long with our banter between this post and the next
We are simply of the several real dimensions
The rest especially them, engaged in or even "interested" in the design of their three artificial show-off dimensions
...well... now i know why his 'activism' always grated, fake, elevated
problem is now that the official top-brain spokesperson has turned off the tap with his " ehh only a very small percentage have real pukka 'autism' [ errata it may be adhd i turned off my label-memory when i met her older lass up on the hill - age 10, and when she came to play with my ferrits her incredible maturity and bright eyed confidence ... only lamented at 'her neurodiversity' ... even i would have been jea;ous at one with THAT emotional intelligence peeing out from her metaphorical hard hat mum demanded! - as essential trench
dug around her battleground mind not her fault of course.... the swirly ever pervading, always, mustard gasses of the South EAst are always fatal as one sees in their Swest..] ... what is my magnificently good fun disorder, or how to create order... out of a battlefield of even her, a mental corpse...
i mean yestereve the one i wished to reencounter - the brighteyes.... there she is...
splendid!
perhaps there are however two word pictures one can sum them all up with:
1. you TELL them you were a mountain goat as a child.... and young man - how many variants of ' i was actually a pukka real shepherd on 'ills like them up there a bit more whelming as it 'appens... 10% population densty indeed nearer 1%, the amount of playground visitors i now realise... if you break your ankle up there ALONE pre helicopter times.... basically nobody .. if one were disabled due ones own fault at not having the deftest footwork you would maybe even really die of Moth Winn's dehydration.... ' and you come up to a 15cm deep bit of river with two rocks in it spaced out an ideal 80 odd cm between them as quite satisfactory stepping stones even for someone bought up in a suburb.... and its no longer wellie season and my god they get all " gosh drama.... you wont get through here take my hand drama drama.."
and 2. aside a quiet byway finishing off a slightly satisfactory meander-chat as SO many times before this utterly fake 'caring' - its always the same look of near horror that a vehicle coming up will certainly flatten you, enjoying rare conversation, with them... not one can listen " luv, a. ..i heard it from 100m back my ears work....and i assessed theres plenty of space for THEM to go around me out i speied long ago out of the corner of my eye fixed on your fine face... and b the fucking law is its MY fucking right of way... i own the space i am stood on even if i havent got on a compulsory flourescent girly jacket... it is MY right to stand here still as long as theres space for them to crawl past aside us they do not exist to me i have rural zen.... as i told you.... and if they dont know that they should fuck back off to where they have nice painted zebras to sort out who owns what bit of the land..."
So yes disorder... problem is it does or did kind of 'work' to ponder life as even the useless bard managed to Nobel speechify hiding behind some device, " its all a Homeric Odd Essay"
Seeing or even to a small extent -merely in ones head, approaching it as if its a ten year long bicycle journey around potholes and the odd Siren...
and knowing which sports field i want to die on.... high up in her mountains
thing is... it's such a successful 'mode' to endure or rather persist
even 15 ish years of maybe Hemlock
when should it really end...?
And i certainly don't want to in any way define my life or even fabulous Odesseyitis by him..
but i did meet her
on his birth
and deathday
Forget them, its just such fun, being in one .....
Anyway back to business a real insight i never knew why he - number one fizzy 'activist'
was so utterly disatrous
I always pondered maybe it was the Surrey germline which had infected his brain with rugby balls, and one of the worst cases of fabnulism ever
And then, just thisterdawn, i saw what
he had studied
...and... well if there were one other excuse for her rather falsely 3d mind
{{{{{{Knowing that, all the rest merely 'divided' over which SHAPED, stupid little leather slippery thing they scrummidged over
Never mind that the fine Serbian "warriors" likely played upon their actual playin' Fields with real children's heads...
that small leather menboy artifice proxy for what?
well... the girls (old leathery bags) can't ever say, for all their 'etrodox
someone should indeed 'dox' em, merely [self confessed] property whores like almost every other so called modern non0human :
"luvs..... youse defunct, dead end of your germ line, last stop on the tube you were too cowardly custard to put to use as your fey god intended; but its not about any line, it's only ever about one thing no English flavoured lollypop
[wow thats good LOLLY POP!!! exactly he always needed a name i never liked his birth one after all 'devils' aint born, and it's an insult to the interestingly redbrested so often come and accompany as I'm on the JOB in the land ..]
.... the definition of narcissism - the wrong word for just opening your gob to say any old rubbish, rather than live between the lacunas crowding up the platform aSIDE THE LAST TUBE YOU MAY EVER SEE WHEN YOU GET BORED BEYOND DEATH OF YOUR OWN NOWT TO SAY ever [oops not my shoutin accidental cap and with the greatest methodical organisin' the worlds ever known only fifty percent battery left no time to uncap...] .... chuck yourself from that 'platform'! as effete of no use to humanity... defined by being unable to appreciate the fairly standard common as muck cause and effect, being if you are childLESS and havent had sixteen years of Hemlock overgrowin' the back of your mind, always...and once again.... .... .....of course you have time to write truly shit books and sit up all night saying drivel whether live-mic or not no one cares..
that's nothing to do with actual reality I'm quite sure even stoneage BArb,
who ACTUALLY always makes me larrfff even today as she was great culture and knew that if i can take my sunglasses off for just a minute and look that manky old gorilla in the next frame
in HIS eyes....
and explain
'my doll's bust! and ..ok fairdiinkum....you have at least some use to me beyond my sung - lasses, allowance.... '
and if you really IS a man below all that ranty bluster,
you will get out the stormsure and put aside his so called 'tools' of cooking
or war, or beating up some poor bloke cos he's got an oblong leather one rather than a round one
and fix my broken Barb...NOW!...or the fuckelse!
whether or NOT you be-seeded me, as maybe daddy or not..'
its your JOB to put my needs first...be they a broken bit o plastic here and now or figure how there'll be a little less of this campfire posturin and...make friends! team up and make safer [sam harrises] 'tools' '
as had, you, for fancy 'personal' reasons yea or neigh
ACTUALLY bred, you may have learned at least the modern version
way over the heads of your latterday perversion...
I'm sure even in fine old once peace-broker Serbia
[rather than Gweek arms broker to the rest of the so called world]
had some kind of parable
he, man, who has child....
is a prat before he has child, fact;
wastes time playing scrummages
sometimes thinking he may get a few yards advantage
sticking one up the bum of the feyboy infront.
then later on with child
as 80 odd percent may manage
he thinks more of how to have peace, and infact even avoid all those silly scrummages, with any fey boy girl, or whomsoever... on behalf of his child"
you barrenesses
could never know as its called a Black Swan - it actually changes you, and often makes you adult, no matter what crap books you write monetising even some poor dead Kevin
never mind even if Lionel is quite right with her lasteryear ' compulsory niceness is the enemy of mankind.. '
and just copying a few of us who worked that out a decade back, as having a child makes your brain work better, quicker as it's actually important what happens for the rest of humanity as you only care about the next generation no matter what...
ergo, is defined by, if all the childless and sexually confused almost by default have the 'voice' well of course none ever use it to explain simple little things like well those ragheads... 'stereotyped' - soon to be illegal, as... hmm what, when surely their one most stereo fundamental fundamentalism that actually makes a real difference...is generalising - yes we know illegal among the Narniacs of Narnia twinned with Dumbosville, the one styereotype that matters even if a few others went and a bit backwards back into caelands, is the grape really really does a LOT of damage and collaterally can ripple for generations, arguably even moreso that the dynamite ... so....
rather than talk 'immo'
maybe a character should be ehhhh...
a useful seed for change..?
a useful influence
someone to learn from, positivley....
rather a lot of 'them' grape free "
oops lost track at least paid homme..age-too, [thats said...arrge..] was going to be in there somewhere dont matter the pixie-goddesses know what fun i always have every single now dawn no matter what...merely pondering awaiting what never comes until i just start to vomit what needed to be said always in there as quite simply, us whom have a germline we love and have been close to, are different... real fully human humans no matter what }}}}
back to imagined sunnier shores, betented, handwritten note: " ehh up gdday fair dinkum.... my male chaperone here will speak for me now ... see there's a football in the baggage as evidence... i was wrong I'm only 1%, and really do know at last why i need to claim asylum...."
well i've had a most unexpectedly enjoyable charging season sometimes tourguiding....
"i'm not a cynic.... i think it's a wonderful story and the nice ones say he got her by accident, when he was aiming for him..."
and the moral of the story is what a great book it ended up in even if one tragedy stolen and repurposed for good purpose.I know there are few books quite as fine never mind that 76 BBC 'daptation... very true to it
Last night near her 'ghost' god i wish there was a useful one or as i ask all the conwomen 'tawlways is, everywhere, selling this stuff,
(cant be bothered endless photographic studies of witching paraphernalia)
" got the phone number of one who's witchy magic actually is for real
Anyway... all that matters, i had NO idea!
Not that anyone ever gives you a hand when it's their bleedin culture
" is this true to... the original..?... [ as a Toksvig can't be promoted - if you saw the way she would flounce around HAy for days and days every year with nothing to say, ever in a flouncy shrill voice, and as sons of famous folk are almost always sicker and crapper thus it MUST be a copy... verbatim] ... as it made me weep its so goddam beautiful so artful in a way no fake SWesterner artiste could even know exists as its got at least three dimensions of subtlety and nuance........ i have to say i may have to revise my opinion of.... youessay please i aint got a library card.. theyre so anti-tramp here youve got to have at least a bijou dogkennel to pretend you are in control, of anything."
cunt NONinternationalist little homoprick laden BBC dont like foreigners any more so VPN required
bet even NPR havent gone that self righteous lanyardite Orwellian smug and " we are enhancing your experience, and adding in all sorts of safety features for your health and endless wellbeing.......by blocking the whole fucking rest of the world" from one of the top 5 greatest radio plays..
talk to the dog giving it controlly orders great they dont talk back
the point, when nobody knows what to say to a real human
About real humans we really are rather responsible, for...
the definition of: effete, decadent AND acedia all in one
Iran and Middle East UK should tell all them Hegsethy Rednecks to grow up and take responsibility..of what we are really responsible for. Once and For all.
bugger thats what really having zen is not caring if ones PAperchasey presentation is dire when you dont have enough time til now to realise THAT 'link' button gives a nice clean one rather than the other one i pressed in the past that gave a raggety messy longer links ...proving Yanks can never do less-ismore
why have two buttons both with 'link' or 'copy' link when only one works!
Those Europeans seem to far less likely or maybe its not 'them' to play games with their own history - meaning their actual family stories, or core identity.
Nothing to do with some notional 3% don't 'identify'...
And i am sure i have some disorder whereby i find it more than foreign, but sick
And i have no idea if my quarter Yank are like that too - i guess when 15 thousand get murdered every year (fairdinkum way down but its unlikely to be Russel's Brand or maybe i am wrong), many stick their heads in the ground when it comes to actual truths that some wish to hide.
But Britain, and there may well have been a day when a modern avant garde postmodern approach to culture was taking it a bit forward but when that results in Channel 4's number one saviour cash cow to quote their boss a few years ago the most absurd nonsense ever called Gogglebox... nobody should ever give any Brit the benefit of the doubt.
After all spin was kind of invented here and i wonder if mixed in with the sugar disorder the standard setting became to bullshit for kicks, and never actually seek any real value in anything - it often seems so ...
All i know is that some tuneful demigods who seemed to spend much of their lives spinning the opposite of who THEY were deep down really did create so much harm as when one is faced with unrealistic notions and especially when one knows the more realistic truths
just dull ordinary bit plastic not trendy and certainly not 'approved'
The ONLY 'divide' being 99%, and 100% of 'working class' or Teapot Party, must have a certain look, decorative regime, bodily and the front room, all of it merely shabby bourgeois " Nige we want more MONEY! for our ever more fancy teapots to keep up with them Joneses..."
nobody told them, as their teachers became only ever the 99% too... "some good books - actually even some quite bob along novels, actually take you on the adventure of it all being just cant and vanity and your haircut or tattoo really doesnt ever matter...all just a nervous twitch oops your mum brainwashed to think she can get benefit cash from every single one of themtoo... "
which is why of course one cannot even have a fairly sane balanced grown up conversation with even a working class person - they let themselves become only ever distracted, and blame someone else for ittoo
BUt i have far deeper dives into the tea, soon...already made but pleasant diversions of late
* i have photos from only 6 mths ago of the Palace of walkingwear i never knew!
just how expensive their compulsory kit is even i was shocked...
And only Herbert latterly found it with his magnificent Spella Ho...
a subltle wistful dreamy expose of reality: they all flounce and perform and it never ends well, and they do so easily just end up forgotten
shame nobody told Virginia to write REAL books about the wistful sardonic dont ever take it to heart just see them for what they are lost and a bit loon.... grow up and out of em they just leave dusty old houses behind wasting bedrooms tramps could use...
Even if in this land as soon as you even speak of reading a real book,
Harry and his silly fantasy kingdoms
Never mind talk about a load of millions spent on nothing, except a fine cinematic exposé of whom, especially my own one, was under her fake Laura Ashley hems
I bet more Britolite mums than history ever will relate weretoo..
so says Suzitoo!
Anyway no point even attempting to say to some bloke who is patinated in Eau de Led Zeppelin roadie, " i am actually LOWER class than you matey i was kicked out of extremely [lovely]peasant-school, school, no qualifications, sixteen ... no uni... NO influences nobody reading me bedtime books.... no dinnertime discussions of culture or anything as i never went to family dinners or rarely between nuclear wars ...
Nobody educated me ... except a real education began with old peasant Ralph then a few wonderful real-thing hippy types...but nobody ever told me to read some good books and i had nothing to prove as you survive that bleak orphanage theres only oneself to solve.. then approve of.... and your silly festivals never taught much except to value St Joan de Armourplating as equally as Sir Bob... and that come the 80s some tart with a Biba habit started to profit from what we used to call lovely vegibrgers same price as the beefy ones but nope gotta be some effnic pretend superfood burger even then at double what theyw ere cost of living crisis to pay for more of their Biba or urban guerrila outfits...all festivals became a con especially anywhere near Hay .."
So due the inate prejudice of some stupid 'class' compliant warrior so so so much more bourgeois than i have ever been in any way whatsoever
soon we get to ...it
BUt you cannot even begin tyo understand it without the pure genius (if there was proof of faeries, how on EARTH did he come up with this aged just that)
ohh yes first step your fetid swamp well i meet occasional so special ones...
" chuck away Barnes, Faulks, self indulgent McKewan and ranty performative Amis... they tell you NOTHINg especially of How To Live, merely their dull old man neuroses... WHAT!!!!! they STILL dont teach Bernhard on an Oxford Uni lit course ....sue the buggers for pretending to be in any way modern!!!"
As only Bernhard maybe did inherit the boy geniuses wonderful insouciance - pure ironic nuanced gentle exasperation, with the greatest ever not-taking-it-to-heart...
perhaps the greatest book of my ohh my they dont all just ponce around with nothing but a ton of cant and vanity between them...
and i am a pacifist
I dont like soldierly stuff but of course his hero was a 'vehicle' for ALL you ever needed to know
and how on earth did he know what he knew, that young, then
I dare not even posit an answer as it may have to include the supernatural
insouciance personified
the good side
But no stupid British inverse snob with a less one-side accent could ever understand, there are no sides and no divides
only in one simplest aspect do you need bling to be something
or are you something adequate to yourself no bling ever
i know she is
As of course her Camus asked the only question, part 2, having discovered its cant and vanity
do you bother living on, yes; or self-sufficiently-actualising-a-plastic-bag-that-fits-your-head, no...?
Now... all i know is that as a 100% yeoman peasant and lifetime loving every second of it, indeed i am the lucky one - entirely chucking out all the fey everything, nevertheless there have been moments that explain who we really are, and i know its far more universal than all the so called post modernist nonces justify their jobsworth
when its worth nothing unless one knows reasonable real history, which thank god for ONE great filmmaker Mister Roeg https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nicolas_Roeg was captured honestly.
Even if typical British sugar addicted inhuman person incapable of maintaing VALUES consistently in that how can one make a beautiful truly universal human film about prejudice and damage to the soul of the vicim of it, never mind body, such as Walkabout and then also accept a CBE from the rather damaging regime...
(has anyone told this generation of maybethoughtfuls, most of the goodies would reject their offered gong even as late as the 90s ?)
Anyway talk about being conned though inadvertently when i had at last my time and space and an internet connection - only 7 ish years ago rural broadband never worked until about then...
Wistfully wondering what 'happened'?
Now even if late 70s and no sane person would ever go to Disney-in-the-mud just a few times io was lucky enough to go and sample the real oldschool alternative culture - or counter culture.
And know exactly what the rules were - 100% respect no matter what, and no staring!!
But bugger me first time i saw her... stumbling across
even though taken off The Tube still just about findable
: "wow if that aint the absolutely perfect pukka gorgeous understated no need for silly tie dye or stupid bangles.... pure perfect hippy woman... god i am so lucky a knew just a few of them.... wow i wonder who she was!? .. i love every awkward nuance about her her completely non-person whole vibe... true humility....
..... as our teen tribal elder Dianna kindof used to be but more real.... ideal.. wow i wish she could be found what was she? who .... probably from some still-slum maybe in some old port-town ... . i can smell the eau de working class chipfat competing with petunia oil in her rarely washed jumper... even now"
years of sometimes dialing in back to the ultimate ideal one
and then one day i had a look at the comments and bugger me
The same woman a year earlier.
250 quid!! what a ...rewriting of history
In that Arabella Churchill did sort of become the better version and remain so.
None of my bis.
Britain even weird in the 70s.
Almost as interesting now her buddy it was also said was Richard Ingrams became pretty good 'anti-establishment' writer
or not really...?
As i am sure they mocked Pilger behind his back, which is the only reason the dynamite continued...
But i am not sure even if i have zero interest in history seems the dates arent right
And anyway they were all irrelevant as there was a time when in fact when as Roeg captured so damn well, a jolly good mix of performative old bags in silly pinstripes and even real British dancers before it went all stupidly tango-looks-better
But then above all.... your vile so called 'divided' can rant all they want but I'm sure not one person ever pondered skin colour when two of the greatest soul singers ever... meet in only perfect 1+1=3
or 5 when Mister Miles is always theretoo
but even more important - the tiktoc version being 'censored'
THE whole point of this one scene that every single schoolchild needs to be MADE to see..infact porn addiction reprogramming ehh what do they call the gay thing i forget ..
NO BODY EVER EVEN NOTICED
nor would one stare at
one of the most cinematically fabulous pair of jugs doin' what nature intended them to do
bounce
potholes
ruts
or whatever
not one even sideways glance or cheeky peek
pure modernity
even if personally i hate boys toys motorbikes
Glastonbury Fayre - Terry Reid feat. Alan White, 1971
Terry Reid
Alan White drums
David Lindley slide
Lee Miles bass
Linda Lewis vocal
all nicely saved by fine Rumanians the yanks banning it - not surprising theyre all so damn touchy ... the land where they never really accepted unpornographic natural naked bodies just as they are
the uncensored unredacted actual bloody history - i saw just a few times too - real history...
i bet this wont last long when the AIs get all neurotic as they pervy crawl around the greatest real culture mistaking it for smut all our kids will ever know at this rate
despite my most ' role model' in-person person on the planet in a huff
rather distracting of late but
two JOBs over a few months 2024 my my say all you need to know about the legacy
of the myth, especially her [landowner] 'Glastonbury'
fantasy theme park of really fucked up baby pixies who think they still are youthfully pixie age middling and it all spreading
But then when a man a real lifelong working salt of the earthy man man can't even keep his toolsheds in failrly ok nick it becomes only an installation work of art (all in my can but my can takes time to reopen ) and it all goes rather earth to earth and dust to dust..
despite plenty of dosh and so so many great 'mates' of his all around
that's your real land
rotten even into the dna of the mould lurking the glossy white paint of that picket fence
FULL Turner worthy real arty farty intallations soon, or one day... but a bloke has NO voice in YUK
