Skip to main content


Showing posts from February, 2016

Life Afterlife

afterlife is a TV series about a woman called Alison who sees dead people and the reaction she gets from the outside world – news media, psychologists, ex wives, ex friends and anyone who is trying to cope with the demands made on them.
The ghosts appear as solid living people.They have strength and power and yet their existence is denied.Why? Who is it that keeps the ghosts alive? Mostly the deniers who want to impress their rationality on the world, who vehemently insist that ghosts do not exist because they can’t see them – therefore all mediums are frauds.
At one point the main character was institutionalized because of a mental illness which we don’t get to know  beyond the various standard labels fought over by the reigning experts.There Alison was tortured in the way patients are usually tortured by living in the sanitized ward where they are not entitled to own their knowledge. Alison is a victim, marginalized, unable to get on with creating peace in her life. Accosted by peo…

Review - Refugees Welcome: poems in a time of crisis

Refugees Welcome – poems in a time of crisis. Edited by Oliver Jones. Eyewear: 20/20 special edition (2015)

“We like the idea of the South. / Until it knocks on our door.” (Rishi Dastidar) This is the first stanza of the first poem in this small and powerful anthology.

Poems take risks, make generalizations, in order to get to the defining element of psycho/social reality. Politics assumes it speaks on behalf of the nation it claims to serve. But who does it really serve? That is the question for the poem.

Who is served when we take in refugees or immigrants? While we tend to think of them as the other, the other knows we are the privileged, who can, in the comfort of our living rooms or office debate the issue as though it is an abstract, rather than life or death.

Thomas McColl imagines the dreams of those who have nothing else to claim … “eyelids turned into wings … above and across the barbed wire”. The vulnerability of life without walls and insurance poli…

Rape Culture

With the current focus on the Ghomeshi trial and the way victims are being branded through the courts, it would be logical to believe that choking and penetrating someone is far more violent, far more guilty than smiling and being nice.  But in rape culture the purpose of everything is to normalize rape as a way of being. To make every living entity a victim or a conqueror. In rape culture it's far more shameful to be a victim.

We are sent to the forum as gladiators whether we want to be or not. We learn that in order to win, somebody must lose. Everything on the earth is here for the purpose of being conquered by the glorious conqueror.

It's not that we are inherently evil or good.  It is that we have been, through the experiences of our ancestors, traumatized.  We have learned how to hide who we are in order to survive.  We have learned how to entertain ourselves with games that we might win so we don't address the depth and breadth of this oppression.

So it comes down …

Why Are We So Angry?

Here are some answers to that question.

The breakdown in civil society means we must make personal decisions in public when we are not sure what is right, or what seems right is more dangerous than is apparent at the moment.

Driving on a two lane country road that is narrow and curved, a driver ahead of me had stopped for a few seconds. I just waited. After a few seconds the driver moved forward and stopped again. Because of the curve I couldn't safely overtake them so I waited, congratulating myself on being patient. Then the driver started backing up quite fast, so I backed up, then they made a left turn down a narrow road.

Afterward I was impressed with the sense of entitlement shown by this driver for not indicating via lights or signals what they needed to do, or for doing the safe thing and driving forward until the next turn off where they could have turned back in the right lane to make the turn they missed. The driver appeared to expect or hope that I would accommodate t…


After reading The Preludes to Assaults by Jane Eaton Hamilton I was compelled to post this poem on here.
Forget history, culture and knowledge. Break free of your hoarding of facts, dates. Forget right and wrong. Nothing means what it intends. The opposite is true until we recognize it and then it becomes a lie.
The ideologue is the great virus, scourge of this planet. He climbed down from his tree and turned it into toilet paper. He tore open his mother’s flesh to mine for gold.
Hated his kind, moulded it into a sword made of his mother’s blood and slew his brother. Sold his children into slavery and called himself Ruler. Warrior. God.
Gaia is a whore and man is her pimp. Our laws, our art, our songs, can’t rid her of this storm, this swarm, this pandemic this era of man who descended
from the awe and beauty bestowed upon him by a power he could never deconstruct this creation larger than his knowing the stars he couldn’t reach, so instead
he sought revenge and created the or…