Trading Lies For Glory

Death is instrumental in everything we do. Silent and omnipresent. Never saying a word while keeping an eye on our every move.

I personify Death by calling it: Dark Sister. A woman who takes life instead of giving it. She introduced herself to me in my tender years as I watched my grandmother slip away with the agony of Cancer. The doctor had said three months, it took a year and I sat by her bedside watching her fade with each cough of blood.
In the evenings we would talk. My Gran believed there was a God, a Heaven and a Hell. So I questioned her about all of this. I wanted to know what meant what. I wanted to understand what was happening. Why was she in such pain? Had she done something wrong? Couldn't this God make her better? She answered all of my questions and I ruminated before telling her that I really didn't like her God much.
With her passing I felt true injustice. The woman who had once fed me, taught me manners and shared her talent as a pianist with me was gone. Nothing was going to change that. When people said she had gone to a better place it felt more like a knife than a comfort. I knew it was a lie. These people were absent during her sickness. Too weak to face reality or grant a dying woman time in their presence. They wanted what once was and concluded with what they would like to believe. They weren't there when it counted. Preferring to behave like rats fleeing a sinking ship.
I don't remember the last thing my Gran said to me before she died but I do remember her bed laying empty, my Grandfather crying and people streaming through the house to split the spoils.
Over time these people have created their stories to tell. The woe that they feel when they look at the objects that once belonged to my Gran. I don't have any of her belongings but I do have the memories, good and bad, of the last days we spent together. Something far more precious than any lie I could create to soothe my conscience.

Cold Turkey

The body pushes hormones to motivate our sex drive. The desire of flesh is only natural. We need to breed to survive and this cold fact shall remain until the discovery of immortality or a generalisation of test tube reproduction. For some this vital urge is a sin and its act should only to be practiced within a defined situation. For the more hedonistic it is a way of life. Either way it is omnipresent throughout our existence and we thrive for the satisfying sensation of endorphins. Our bodies give us opiates as a motivation to intercourse. A shot of fantasy to embellish the practicalities and ensure that we have the next generation on the way.

Yet hark! I hear a bible thump. What about those recreational druggies. The pheromone chasers just after a good self produced fix? Surely they must burn in hell for their misguided use of our animal impulses? Well, didn’t the young messiah JC cause quite a stir when he saved a hooker from a good stoning? If JC could live with it then I’m sure you can make the effort to. Besides practice makes perfect and anti sex doctrines where a form of birth control. Back in the day when we threw stones at each other.

The mind has evolved and has a better understanding of the human body and its functions. Making a villain of sexual urges is of the domain of ignorance.  Contraceptives are readily available as birth control and as a means to avoid the spreading of illness. They also help to insure that the missus doesn’t have the milkman’s baby or that hubby gets his secretary up the duff. We can maintain good healthy sex lives with the marvels of science. We have our urges and we have our safety nets the rest is personal choice.

Yet hark! I hear a hippie whinge. What about love man? Well, my unwashed friend, love is another chemical reaction. It is also a word that is bandied about far too much and grossly misunderstood. How many women hear the words: I love you so much, from a man who really should be saying: Damn your hot! I want in to your pants! Of course plenty of guys hear the same thing with the same intent.

If you switch on a radio 90 percent of what you hear is called a love song. Most films incorporate love scenes and/or love stories. The same goes for literature and when you see a painting you really like you don’t like it, you love it! It’s a buzz word and like all buzz words the more it is misused the less sense it makes.

The most common blunder is mixing love with sex. We don’t make love, we feel love and if we are lucky enough to have that special person in our lives then we can have sex with the person we love. Now I know for many this may seem like word splitting but let me put it this way: I love my cats but if they were to wander around the house in high heels and lace I would be very far from horny. It would be a good laugh though.

We love our brothers, sisters, children and friends without sex ever springing up. I don’t think it is difficult to understand that we love our partners whether sex is present or not.

Another common mistake is to say that we love someone or something that we desire. Love is passive and self sufficient. It takes the good with the bad and has no need for change. Desire by its very nature is missing something and pushes to change that. We are full of desires and sexual urges but love is a rarity. It is a precious moment in life that is constantly abused, plastered on billboards, badges and lots of places where another four letter word would be appropriate. If you look at love as being a chemical reaction. A naturally produced drug that our body injects in to our system. Then I think you can safely conclude that most of us are suffering from cold turkey.


In 1989 the Berlin wall came down and hopes were high across the globe for a newborn unity. Twenty years later the only things that have been born are new divisions. The world has less morals and more gangsters. The rich are richer and the poor are an ever expanding entity. Apathy mingles with a resurgence of religious doctrines and politicians have long since traded honour for Platinum card tax evasion with all the thrills.  The left wing makes the T shirts and the right wing markets them. Education levels drop to dumb down the nations  and thus it ticks until we hear an almighty crash. Then those with little have to give a little more while Swiss banks keep a select minority very solvable. Long gone are true notions of community spirit and making sure the next guy is alright.  Everything has to be filed and verified in a world where general distrust is a way of life. Nobody really knows who the enemy is anymore as all political ideals have betrayed those who once believed they would make the world a better place.  

The problem is the way money is viewed. It is viewed as an end rather than a means. It is, after all, a representation of labour and goods. We have it to facilitate trade yet our current societies place it as the be all and end all to life. We must distance ourselves from this notion. People are to be valued by their actions not their bank balance. All I can see are populations wanting mansions and fast cars without lifting a finger to actually bring something to the very real lives we lead. Being a millionaire cannot be justified for as long as others go hungry. A token charity ball or donation does nothing more than make you look good in the media. Keep what you really need and give the rest away because you really do not need it.

In short: children are starving while others wine and dine on caviar and champagne. How many more centuries will we live through this? If you want a balanced community, pull your finger out of your arse and do something for those around you regardless of pay. Stop buying in to celebrity culture and all the fringes that go with it. Do something that shows that humanity can be more than a cannibalistic parasite.

The Iris Gene

The beginning is chaos trying to organise. Beings in search of self definition and a meaning to life. With the foundations of opinion comes faith and war. A will to control and subjugate the other. It is through destruction that our true nature is revealed.

The End may go full circle. Lessons learned only to be forgotten. A few remaining souls at peace with their conscience. Nursing the maddened.

The folly in nature brought us this far and may just finish us. Is there really a care for change? Do we really want to erase the divide? Are we not at peace with ourselves when we can love those close and hate those who are not?

The outcome of our future lays in the coming decades. The end game is closer than ever as control steps towards worldly proportions. The bully does it’s master’s bidding. Under the illusion that it is it’s own master. Maybe we shall all perish for the desires of hiding rulers. Maybe their ignorance shall destroy life as we know it. Or maybe a stand can be taken. One that would at last bring equality beyond nations, creed or race. One that would bring an end to centuries of needless slaughter. One that would take the rich and the lazy and make them honest workers. Doing for all, for the good of all.

I doubt this stand will be taken but I would rather perish for it’s ideals than live any other way.