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Alpine sorrows

And so in desperation - because it feels like the
last resort...in darkest deepest Peru or somewhere,
you phone The Samaritans.

Now, I'm not knocking the sterling,
(often thankless) service they provide all the time -
night into day, at the end of the line...there where
you get off, always on time...

but, you cant help thinking - it's the same ol' thing;
a bit like yodelling into a very deep well: all you
seem to get back is the echo of your own passive rant.

And I'll be honest, it feels like what they do as
they're there apparently listening and saying,
"ok...yes...right...uh ha...and how do you
feel about that? Are you sure you'll be ok?
Are you you quite sure? - blah, blah... black sheep.

Well, I can't help thinking that their, ever so
nearly disembodied voice at times, is explained by
the fact that at some point during the call,
they switch on a pre-recorded loop of gentle reassurances,

while they go off for three quarters of an hour or so,
and have a cup of tea and a chat with a colleage about
the problem with their car, and what the weather's
doing tomorrow...and how much they had to pay for a
medium latte and a flapjack at the airport the other day...

and then, when they've dumped their load and are feeling a
little more at ease, they come back on the line and say,
so how do you feel now?

And you say, "well, it's good that I can at least talk to
someone...it helps me to talk myself into some kind of
resolution." All of which, of course, is very true...

but at the back of your mind, coming to the front, you can't
help thinking that - well, there's nobody really there...
and that you're leaning over that well and just hearing
your own Alpine sorrows coming back...

three quarters of an hour later.

Posted by Colin Hambrook, 12 September 2011

Last modified by Colin Hambrook, 12 October 2011

The bearer of good fortune

I am Tawny Nine-hoots, the owl in the old beech tree.

You have not been watching out for me, as I have for you; observing most keenly everything all around, from my high vantage.

Few among you know how sharp my vision is; seeing even those things which move inside you.

But do not be alarmed - you are not my prey. Besides, I have no appetite. My hunger is for looking; my desire is to show you what I see.

Posted by Colin Hambrook, 26 July 2011

Last modified by Colin Hambrook, 12 October 2011

A Fistful of Doughnuts starring Flint Feastgood

And out of the town of horses rode another:

A hero on a sturdy mare (neither black nor white,
nor grey) weilding his sword of truth with words.

And he wore a coat from a not-to-distant
time and space.

Like a comet from a paralell world he rained...
and he came in the name of peace;
as a cosmic emissary, imparting all he knew of
the new time, soon to come.

And With its promise of better things for all,
his t-shirt proclaimed:

I
work for
The Architect
of the Stars. I come 
to dismantle your world with my
words; and with my words to rebuild it. 

Posted by Colin Hambrook, 20 April 2011

Last modified by Colin Hambrook, 12 October 2011

The Mouth of Open Doors opens his mouth to speak about fixed (inflexible) beliefs and horizons of the unfixed eye

It is essential that everybody acquires some fixed/set beliefs through childhood into adult life. As individuals and in society our survival depends on it.

Without absorbing common truths and facts, even basic functioning would be impossible, as would shared tasks.

However, the downside of becoming too reliant on fixed/set beliefs in order to navigate and progress through life is that all too easily we find ourselves substantiating/justifying things which are far from concrete and certainly not wholly reliable.

At a later date I shall speak about the treason of reason: the ways in which our imperfect minds invariably and constantly distort things.

But for now, Just take a look around the room you presently occupy. How many of the objects or things you can see are set in position so that it could be said they will never move? The answer is of course none. Even the walls move a little, because if they didn't then cracks would not appear in the plaster.

Surely it is better to live and work with life's flux of uncertainty, than to cause ourselves stress and frustration (as well as becoming vexed) through our obsession with pinning everything down.

To become too fixed/over-focused on the vain pursuit of establishing concrete things as a means of assurance, only leaves us anchored too tightly and retricted in our freedom.

This leads to internal conflict (within our minds) which in turn (and in a terrible loop) invariably finds expression as external conflict (amongst ourselves, both close to home, as well as out across the world).

The fact that we box ourselves in, making many things in life seem (as well as actually become) fixed/ inflexible when they are not/ ought not to be so, demonstrates how focused and over-dependent we've become on pinning everything down, which is contrary to natures flexibility and its expliotation of flux.

Naturally we should be certain of a great deal. For example; that hot things can burn or scald us; that lions can be very dangerous, or that we must eat and drink to sustain ourselves. But we don't have to stray too far from such common knowledge before some significant and telling grey areas start to open up.

As I have illustrated, the downside of our obsession with pinning everything down, is that we're pinned down with it. To much of this is unhealthy, as well as unwise, because it makes us vulnerable/ ill-prepared in a world where the natural state of things is one of dynamic fortuitousness and flux.

And the more we link and tie everything up,the more we frustrate our unset natural directive, which leads us. as I say, into both internal conflict (within our minds) and generates, as well as perpetuates, external conflict also.

We've always known that some of the happiest people lead the simplest lives. They stick to basics and fix on these while remaining flexible, and without overcomplicating life for themselves. for them, having a flexible/unset objective comes naturally because it is the way of nature. And we should remember that in the battle for man made order over nature's, the latter always wins. 

Posted by Colin Hambrook, 14 April 2011

Last modified by Colin Hambrook, 28 May 2011

Jolly Captain Seamus O'Nemesis: Starfleet Commander USS Altercourse; star date 6561

Few people stop to think why it might be that humour is such a boost/lift for ones spirits.

It's really simple. The answer lies in the fact that humour (often precipitating laughter - even tears!) is our higher dimensional spirit's antedote/relief from what is the Godforsaken lower spirit/mortal being's knotty terrestrial realm.

The trouble is that our higher (or cosmic spirit/being) really doesn't appreciate the constraints of its lower Earthly counterpart's mortal spoil.

Basically, Our cosmic spirit (being a very free spirit, and beyond all limits) loathes the fact that our need for so much (all too sobering - even suffocating) order and wholesale pinning down of things - the umpteen ways in which we fix/set our beliefs, codes,systems,infrastructues etc - to attain some necessary points of reference and to (supposedly) ease our navigation upon the sea of life) invaribly leads to our being overly constrained/boxed in; as well as frustrated and often vexed too!

So our cosmic spirit eases these woes through its humour pick me up, as it affords us the means by which we can achieve a lift and thereby raise/boost our deminished spirit levels.

By means of this priceless gift, what it basically does (when you've stopped pulling your hair out, and take the time to ponder it over) is it provides some way of unfixing, subverting and also shaking/mixing up all this clunky order and boxiness, which has our boats anchored on too short a chain.

So now when somebody says, "you're in high spirits today!" You can say, "yes - I've weighed anchor for now and set sail on the free and beautiful briny sea!"

Sliver me Finbarrs, me tarties!

Posted by Colin Hambrook, 7 April 2011

Last modified by Colin Hambrook, 26 April 2011

Professor Stephen Strangely chats about the impending spacetime tsunami, over a pot of tea...

Image - Neal_Pearce_Stephen_Strangely_chats.jpg

Hopefully it's all just a storm in a tea cup;
but apparently something's been going on...
a little hiccup, you might say.

It started at the furthest reaches of the
ever expanding universe (it needs some sort of
gastric band if you ask me) roughly around
supper time a Graham's number of years ago.

What happened was, for some (unsurprisingly)
unearthly reason the hyperspacial vortices
caused the universe to have something of a
micro peristaltic spasm; which meant that
for a nanosecond it contracted and set in
motion a backwards ripple effect...

and now, I don't want to alarm anybody,
but basically we've got this sort of spacetime
tsunami gaining pace and it's headed our way -
should hit us around teatime next Wednesday
by my calculations.

It's difficult to say what this will bring
- not because I'm choked up about it,
you understand, but simply because this sort
of thing has never happened (at least not on
this scale) before.

Anyway, we've all got ringside seats for
this one. So all I can really say is, best
of luck and don't panic...

it's a wasted effort. All you can do is sit
tight...and don't let it prey on your minds.
 

Posted by Colin Hambrook, 28 March 2011

Last modified by Colin Hambrook, 26 April 2011

The Mouth of open doors (one man) speaks

"I will have this to say when they descend on me in their hacking, vulture-like hoards...

"You will hear much said about me, I'm sure; some of it no doubt uncomplimentary.

"What can I say except: hey, I'm only human too! And don't forget, any tree (great or small) dirties its roots in the rich and gritty clod of the earth.

"So I ask you not to crowd, rush or crush me... I do not have all the answers, but I do have an impressive set of keys (or rather one rather special skeleton key) at mine and your disposal...

"for I can tell you, my Opus (Infinite) Codex is something of a Swiss Army knife, whose great and many uses even I cannot comprehend.

"But, for now, there's a long road to travel, and we all need to buck up our ideas - to get out of second gear because there isn't too much time.

"And this is very much a call for calm at a time set for action. We cannot give up our self interests - our rock of survival, nor hope to flip our act overnight.

"For if we were to try, then this long- running show with its good and bad acts would fold and run down its curtain. And the beast within each would be sprung; and we'd be as dogs in the streets - each for his own and damn the rest.

"And I will ask this of my would be attackers, whether verbal or physical: are you quite sure of what you deem to do? And are you wearing Kevlar, as I am?...

"And is yout conscience similarly protected? Because mine is. And only a coward would come gunning for a selfless hero (one who raises everyone's hopes to the sky).

Only a coward would shoot him down and see him drain of blood and die.

"No snake would find honour there... only a dirty hole to eke out his days, to the hastened close of play."

Posted by Colin Hambrook, 10 March 2011

Last modified by Colin Hambrook, 10 March 2011

That ol' chestnut, by doctor and sexologist Rodger Sucksmutt-frottage DP, SnM

Image - Neal_Pearce.jpg

It may come as no surprise to you, to learn that the spectrum of sexuality is as broad as it is Rubenesque... and too, surprisingly blurred...or is it just my glasses?

Unfortunately in the pursuit of clarity and classification, we rather clunkily (albeit out of necessity) have, for practical reasons, divided sexuality into tit-bit sized categories I shall detail Presbyterally... So, (without wishing to upset anyone) I've set them in no special order, as follows:

heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, asexual, transsexual, pansexual (pipes,drums - the whole orchestra really!) and bestiality (one way/asexual shenanigans on the farm).

But please, do forgive me if you're out there and I've missed off your 'niche' from this list. I'm afraid I don't know (nor do I wish to know... no slur intended!) everything.

But, having said that, I may well be the bearer of some particularly reassuring news for a great many people.

Because I do know of another, recently coined catagory (thus far, the apricot preserve of women) which, when it eventually bridges the River Severn gender gap, will no doubt ease the minds and conscience of great number of folk.

As far as I can see...in these glasses, it seems to be a sort of slip road off of, and onto, bisexuality (though not really headed for the same guesthouse in The Rumpy-pumpy Hills...easy!)

They've called it flexisexuality (for reasons which I think you may have already guest..house in Frinton).

You see, it's been known for a long while that our sexuality is not entirely fixed - not necessarily set from the begining, nor remaining rigid (...easy!) throughout our lives.

We all know, for instance, that in certain same sex environments, an individuals default sexual orientation may often be over-riden in the interests of satisfying his or her erotic beads...sssorry, I mean needs! And too, if you've ever got really drunk (or perhaps you were sober!) at that party in Climping, say... and shortly afterwards you've become aware that people are tittering (...oooow no missus!) well, you know exactly where I'm coming from...time to time on a Thursday.

On a more serious boat; if flexisexuality were acknowledged as a pangender phenomenon, then this would reveal (as I feel it surely does) the real raisin skulking behind all this homophobia.

But all of this is, of course, completely natural and healthy - all just a part of life's rich frappistry; certainly no cause for shame!

But, as you might imagine, this is in itself too clunky and limited an explanation to fully cover (or uncover!) flexisexuality in all its glory (...steady!)

And now, I'm sorry to have to break it to you, just when I've got your juices flowing (...stop it!) but I'm going to have to leave you in the ol' cliched suspenders...

I have a close and pressing appointment you see.

Posted by Colin Hambrook, 10 March 2011

Last modified by Colin Hambrook, 27 April 2011

Neal Pearce: The man with no lame horse

And out of the town of horses rode another: 
a hero on a sturdy mare (neither black nor white,
nor grey) wielding his sword of truth with words.

And he wore a coat from a not-too-distant
time and place.

Like a comet from a parallel world he rained...
and he came in the name of peace;
as a cosmic emissary, imparting all he knew of
the new time, soon to come.

And With its promise of better things for all,
his t-shirt proclaimed:

                   I
               work for
            The Architect
         of the Stars. I come
    to dismantle your world with my
 words; and with my words to rebuild it.

Posted by Colin Hambrook, 2 March 2011

Last modified by Colin Hambrook, 7 March 2011

Wise words from Ozymandias Wizard (little big man in the shoes of Shelley)

picture of an old key, a gold cross and and white crystal against a red backgorund

The First address
This is Neal Pearce (rearrange the letters) cosmic emissary/mouth of open doors/universal locksmith etc,etc.
Having spent nearly 44 long hard years of quiet, patient observation, it's now time I spoke.

I'll be honest, all of this has made me a little cross - yes! the one you can see in the photo... sorry, I couldn't resist the pun!)

But seriously...It's 11.30 on Wednesday the 9th of February 2011 and I have a brief, but important message for you (the first of many). Deny the existence of your dark side (for you most surely have one, just as night is contrasted with day)...yes, that little devil within you! Deny it at your peril.

Suppress him and he'll grow steadily and stealthily behind your eyes into a force that may consume you. But See him in your mirror. Let him play a little, and he'll not lead you astray. And do not be fooled by the treason of reason: those constant mis-perceivings we all blindly fall into (by way of the glitches in our all too Earth-wound minds and beings.

For the world as perceived, and the world as it is, are, very often, quite different things. And We should always take heed of this before jumping in with both feet, and with words or weapons of wrath.

We should instead seek the calmer voice and climbs of our own higher spirtual dimension, or cosmic spirit/being, before siding and sliding with our long-time tainted terrestrial spirit/being; bound and wound, around and around our mortal selves.

It's that simple! This is Neal Pearce (learn peace) signing off for now.

Posted by Colin Hambrook, 10 February 2011

Last modified by Colin Hambrook, 10 February 2011

The Sea of Time Prophecies of Catesby, stills and Nash

Picture this: it's an ordinary Monday afternoon; the time could be 16:05,and I could be John Johnson
(aka Guy Fawkes) undiscovered.

But don't be mistaken - I'm no terrorist bent on murder and mayhem.
Mine is a kind bomb; more 37 chapters than barrels (one for luck you see!) Each strategically
positioned right under all those bloody stupid things you
believe and are anchored to - you masturbankers!

I'm sorry, but you need to be told. It's just that a storm comes this way - a very omenous storm, black-bearding the horizon.

We really must take heed and make haste:
it's time to weigh anchor, or your ships will surely be
dashed on this pretty reef, and be sunk without trace.

I must warn you most urgently to stop resting on your laurels.
For you should know that there's been a conspiritor in our midst for an ocean of time. He/she has been plotting against us; not lurking in our cellars, but in our top storeys.

So we need to wake up and get our ships in shape - sniff this out - unmask and bring to trial the treason of reason within...
wither me shimbers, me tarties! 

Captain Capstan Kiddgloves

Part 2

Many people claim to be clever and adventurous. But, instead of charting new territory as you'd expect, they navigate their lives using hand-me-down or outdated maps.

Scared to set sail for the edge of the world, they often discover, too late, that always knowing where you are going is worse than being lost...

Quiver me Finnbars, me smarties!

Sir Pritchard Drawstrings.

Posted by Colin Hambrook, 31 January 2011

Last modified by Colin Hambrook, 31 January 2011

Professor Stephen Strangely chats about the impending space-time tsunami, over a pot of tea...

Image - Neal_Pearce_stephen_strangely.jpg

Hopefully it's all just a storm in a tea cup; but apparently something's been going on... a little hiccup, you might say.

It started at the furthest reaches of the ever expanding universe (it needs some sort of gastric band if you ask me) roughly around supper time a Graham's number of years ago.

What happened was, for some (unsurprisingly) unearthly reason the hyperspacial vortices caused the universe to have something of a micro peristaltic spasm; which meant that for a nanosecond it contracted and set in motion a backwards ripple effect...

and now, I don't want to alarm anybody, but basically we've got this sort of spacetime tsunami gaining pace and it's headed our way - should hit us around teatime next Wednesday by my calculations.

It's difficult to say what this will bring - not because I'm choked up about it, you understand, but simply because this sort of thing has never happened (at least not on this scale) before.

Anyway, we've all got ringside seats for this one. So all I can really say is, best of luck and don't panic...

it's a wasted effort. All you can do is sit tight...and don't let it prey on your minds.

Posted by Colin Hambrook, 30 January 2011

Last modified by Colin Hambrook, 30 January 2011

Dark Lord Darth Sarsen catches up with his spleen in this latest offering from the ramblers club

My Morbid Spleen

The stars looked beautiful tonight;
but for some strange reason the dead man
at the bus stop came to mind again

I keep seeing myself giving him a gentle nudge;
but the lemons in his fruit machine had
stuck just out of sight.

And the woman next to me screamed like an
ambulance up my arse;
while the girl (so strangely green) to
one side muttered "cool" and snapped a
picture on her phone.

I heard the coroner had said his wife hadn't
long been taken by her maker,
and they'd buried her in the silks of
self pity befitting her latter years.

My neighbour's dad had a
blood slug go from his leg to
his lung, you know.

He went sat in his favourite armchair,
clutching his favourite knife and a
runner bean he'd been topping and tailing;
until he was topped and tailed,
and wedged in a long case, like the
fish on the wall of The Frog and Nightgown.

But I'm not sure why I'm wending down the
darkly road -

guess it's my morbid spleen that's
seen me plummet from the starry night to
that Darth Vader death rattle,
waiting for the 23 to Cheam. 

Posted by Colin Hambrook, 26 January 2011

Last modified by Colin Hambrook, 26 January 2011

Fred Schnitzel ponders the expansion of the universe in his new DAO blog

Today my uncle (whose recently been tinkling around with reverse engineering) told me that he'd sooped up his vacuum cleaner to such a degree that he was concerned he might be held accountable for throwing the expansion of the universe into reverse.

I tactfully put it to him that he was off on another grandiose guilt trip, and that he ought to channel his creativity through a practical accelerator and invent something so useful that its usefulness may forever remain elusive, just as I was doing.

He went a bit feint on the phone again, but after he'd picked himself up he thanked me a second time for the executive cyber-sumo toy, and, just before going, told me that his neighbour had been round again concerned that he'd drowned his goldfish.

A little later I went to the pictures and found the one of my brother with his collection of collecting books. By this time all the mental in-exertion had worn me out, so I drove myself to a deserted philosophical car park and chewed the cud for a bit.

Tomorrow's another day I reasoned, and looking at it from today's standpoint, yesterday was another day too - the day before yesterday, that is.

At the end of the day, under an anglepoise lamp it's as broad as it is round, I thought. And for certain, so long as the quantum mechanic does his job, any time after midnight tonight should slide neatly into the frame of the day to follow.

I was fine with that, just as I was fine with the universal certainty that I booked in for a blood test at 11.50am an eye test at 2.45pm; getting a new exhaust fitted somewhere in between, and having my testicles revarnished at 4.20pm.

Posted by Colin Hambrook, 23 January 2011

Last modified by Colin Hambrook, 24 January 2011