One Thousand Stories (So Far)

A couple of days ago, I completed my 1000th story. It’s a feeling impossible to describe exactly: a mix of wonder, disbelief, fierce pride, and an acknowledgement the universe still owes me nothing for my efforts. 🙂

Somebody observed I seem to be more concerned about the quantities involved rather than the actual stories and books. That’s not true. I love what I do, and only let out the stories that I’m happy with, pleased with, or that I love. However, soon after I started, I got into a serious argument with a couple of ex-friends over my ability to create anything of worth, the discipline to underpin that creating, and – to use a polite version – my reason to exist on this planet.

Over a decade has passed since that evening. Every book I publish adds to a number that a few people were sure I was incapable of achieving. (There’s the best revenge, right there: live well, doing what you want, and doing it as well as you can.)

I find myself wondering how I create like I do. When I read the writer community posts on Twitter and a few on Facebook, I can’t relate – except I remain in awe of those who raise families, have day jobs, and write. Apart from that, I simply don’t understand the questions about character motivations, details of their lives, plotting out entire books using the latest specialist software – it’s all alien to me.

I have something I call a ‘storymaking engine’ in my head. Most of the time, stories just tumble into the open document and I have no idea where they came from or where they’re going until I type it. Characters, lives, events. It all just appears. My job is to continuity check, tidy up, and let the better ones out into the world.

Because of that, I used to worry about what I do, or how I do it. But, in the end, it’s not invalid, it’s merely different: my way of creating. I’ll not attempt to mess with it – a decision that was a long time coming, while I learned a couple of personal rules the hard way: my gift will not write on demand, nor obey schedules, and acute money worries send it into hiding. But, if I keep myself tolerably funded and leave it be, I will create at a ridiculous rate. To the point where I have to consciously decide to stop writing.

Yes, I’d like to sell a few more books. But in these technological times, the ‘impoverished author’ remains a vocation with no guarantees of financial wellbeing. I’ve sold a few thousand books, and have had complete strangers compliment me on my work, which is astounding. It’s humbling, knowing people enjoy the words that tumble from my head.

I started out with the mantra ‘my books, my way’. Since then, I’ve added the six word creed that’s taken me from struggling with my first novel to forty published books and games, with half a dozen other books completed but unpublished, and over fifty more in progress.

Just write. Never stop. Have fun.

Stay with me for the next thousand stories. It’s going to be quite a ride.

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Posted by on August 29, 2021 in Life & Self


Straight Talking

We need proportional representation.
(Possibly in all things, but I’m typing specifically about politics in the [not so] United Kingdom.)

However, before that, we need a credible alternative to the motherfuckers who run this country for the benefit of themselves and their cronies.

Then we need to address this society’s desperate preferences for comfortable lies instead of the truth.

Until those things happen, the UK will remain a decaying society dressed in propaganda, delusion, and denial.

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Posted by on May 10, 2021 in Uncategorized


The Boy Stood On the Windy Deck…

…and watched another helicopter lift from the pad outside the premier suites.

Curious, he ran to the observation point and looked down at the sea. It was now up to the second row of portholes, even pouring in through a couple that had been left open.

Occasionally, the ship would shudder or tilt and he’d see the crew in the bridge – on the deck below the suites – work frantically to keep the ship steady.

He looked at all the people sitting about, playing games or just strolling, occasionally pointing out the distant shores of foreign countries. Deprecating laughter usually followed that.

Puzzled, he ran to his father.

“Daddy, the ship is still sinking.”

“I told you before: no, it’s not. The going’s a little heavy at the moment – that’s why we’ve slowed down – but it’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“Come and look over the side! The lower decks are underwater!”

“That’s just a problem with being poor, son. Sometimes you don’t get to see the sun from wherever you are.”

“But, daddy…”

“Now, son. That’s enough of your nonsense. We’ll be fine, the director of the shipping line is on board with us, and he says there’s nothing to worry about.”

Another helicopter lifts off.

The boy points at it.

“Then why are they all leaving?”

“They’re important people, son. They’ve got important things to do. Can’t always make money while cruising about on a luxury liner drinking champagne and eating canapés.”

The boy turns to look at his mother. She’s chatting about celebrity fashion with the woman sat at the next table.

“Don’t think about disturbing you mother, either. She’s busy.”

The boy wanders off. Another helicopter lifts. He walks along the deck until he finds a stairway. Going up that, he walks back until he’s standing outside the bridge.

As he waits for the door to open, another helicopter flies away.

The door opens. He quickly darts inside. Walking up to a man in an impressive hat, he taps the man’s arm.

“Excuse me. Is the ship sinking?”

The man jumps, then looks down.

“Well hello, young man. Did your father send you?”

“No. I came on my own because my daddy says there’s nothing wrong, but I can see the ship is sinking if I go and look.”

“Now why would you want to worry yourself like that? We’ll keep the ship stable for a while yet.”

“But it is sinking?”

A man wearing an impressive and imposing hat comes over.

“Yes. Been doing it for a long time, but now it’s getting quicker.”

“So why aren’t we all abandoning ship? Getting into lifeboats, rafts…” the boy stops – he can’t recall seeing any lifeboats, or even lifebuoys, now he thinks about it.

“Well, now. That would be a bit hasty, wouldn’t it? All that shouting and panicking would disturb the premier members who are queueing to leave. Can’t have that.”

“What happens after they’ve gone?”

The man in the impressive and imposing hat beams at the man in the impressive hat, who smiles.

“Why, we can get on with sinking properly, of course. The officers will arrange for their bridge duties to be covered, then leave on the staff helicopter. After that, the crew will help the passengers run about aimlessly, thinking they’re going to be saved, until the whole ship tips up and slides into the depths, taking all but a few of those aboard down with it.”

The man in the impressive hat takes it off, then leans over to whisper to the other man.

“The staff helicopter isn’t there. They needed the space for an emergency champagne reserve and some vaccine refrigerators.”

The man in the impressive and imposing hat nods and smiles.

“We’ll be going down with the ship, then.”

The boy looks back and forth between the men, his expression one of disbelief.

“Why don’t you go and take one of those helicopters on the premier deck?”

“Can’t do that, young man. They’re very important people. They’ve got important things to do. Can’t waste their time drowning.”

He puts his impressive hat back on and smiles at the one in the impressive and imposing hat.

“Stewards say that salmon is off the menu as the freezer section is a bit submerged. We could serve the prawn cocktail on a plate and add it to the menu as ‘Poor Man’s Buffet Salad’?”

“Excellent idea! Also, I think we should double the complementary champagne allocation for each table, add a gratis bottle of spirits to each breakfast bar, and make the all the TV channels free for the day – it looks like tomorrow will be choppy. People will need a distraction: these vessels handle like drunkards put outside at closing time when they’re half full of water.”

The boy raises a hand.

“You’ve been on a ship like this before?”

“Yes. All the big ships are owned by Capitalism or one of it’s subsidiaries. Sinking is part of the long-term strategy. After all, nobody important ever goes down with th-“

The two men look at each other.

The boy leaves to find his sister, remembering the steak knives he saw by the stacked plates on the hostess trolley. They’re getting on a fucking helicopter, even if he has to stab and bite every bastard who gets in their way.

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Posted by on January 24, 2021 in Uncategorized


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Tiers of a Clown

When political expediency takes precedence over science, people die.

At least the core messages of the anti-COVID-19/anti-vax mobs are consistent (no, I don’t agree with most of them). The only things our government does with any consistency are lie and blame anyone except themselves.

Look at the state we’re in: at a time when honesty, clarity, and simplicity are essential, they have used vague guidance and contradiction to manoeuvre the population of the UK into blaming each other instead of the government’s colossal mismanagement.

Even though l disagree with many of the political decisions and a lot of the alt-science regarding COVID-19, I do believe it is deadly if you get the wrong strain – a fact true from the outset, not because of the ‘new’ propagandised variants being used as lockdown excuses to cover political failures.

I’m not going to argue with you about this. All of the main viewpoints have assumed religious levels of self-defending: facts are increasingly irrelevant because belief has come to the fore. (Note I used ‘believe’ in the previous paragraph. I’m not a scientist. I just have an opinion.) Everyone has informed themselves as best they want, and drawn their conclusions from there. Fear and anger predominate and, to an extent, guide reactions to anything that challenges those conclusions.

So, keep you safe, and try very hard to protect yourself and those you care for from mental harm – without withdrawing completely unless absolutely essential – while taking informed, sensible precautions against COVID-19.

Never take the piss out of someone else’s precautions. You have no idea what they’re dealing with and who they’re trying to protect. Likewise, if someone is doing something you find questionable, avoid them – or limit your time in their vicinity as best you can. Confrontation is a really, really stupid idea at the moment. Hair-trigger temperaments and stressful situations rarely result in useful outcomes.

This is meant to be a civilisation. So fucking act like it matters, because – trust me – if it all breaks down, it won’t matter which side you were screaming for or against: there will always be bigger, nastier threats coming to ruin your smug assurance that you’re ready. They won’t care if you’re ‘right’, either.

The urban areas of the western world have minimal resilience left. It won’t take much to escalate this into something awful. So let’s not do that.

Blessed Be.

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Posted by on December 23, 2020 in Uncategorized


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Never mistake keen observation for wisdom.

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Posted by on December 7, 2020 in My Father's Life Tips


So, Jae Decided to Build Another Titan

NB: This post will be a bit of a work in progress as I spot details that need to be clarified or receive queries.

Back in early 2019, I spent a while thoroughly enjoying building and storymaking around a Forgeworld Revenant Titan. I even blogged about it –
I enjoyed doing that so much, it gave me lots of project ideas as well as several story threads (which I will follow up on, one day). So, when an opportunity to pick up a battered but complete Phantom Titan came along, I jumped at the chance. I toyed with the idea of doing a Warlock conversion, but as well as being a crappy painter, I can’t scratchbuild well. Conversion and adaptation are my forte. A Warlock conversion required a specialised head that, after a lot of consideration, I had to admit there was nothing I could adapt one from.
Fast forward barely ten days and, by sheer chance, I acquired an original Merlyn Warlock Titan head, which had been made and released for the Armorcast Phantom Titan. Game on, I thought. (So blase… So clueless.)
When the Phantom turned up, I had a moment. You know, a full-on ‘what the f*ck have I gotten myself into?’ thing. I thought the Revenant had prepared me… There is no comparison. The Phantom Titan is ridiculously, laughably, gloriously, unrepentantly huge. And I had the temerity to think I could just casually modify it to take an old titan head that’s bigger than a Revenant Titan’s upper torso?
I took a day to consider. Either concede and sell the lot off, or get my arse in gear and have a go. In the end, I couldn’t resist. I had to try. I also decided to take a lot of photos, documenting the successes and failures. This is the story so far (I haven’t commented on every picture, it being a build process. I will highlight any details that may be of interest/use, though.)


The titan I got is a genuine Forgeworld item, but came with no instructions. I found a couple of pages on the net, and this imgur entry was also a significant help:

And away I went –
The classic Warlock build totes a psychic lance and power fist. While the lance wasn’t too much of a problem, getting a decent fist without hunting down and then mutilating an Armorcast original bothered me until I found a Dreamforge articulated claw.
The claw went well, and I started to get a grip on the base that this monster would require. I’d been intendeding to use a picture frame like for the Revenant base, but the Phantom is just too heavy. In the end, I found a chunk of oak that had been lying around from some abandoned project. That became the base.
My intention to have the titan standing with one foot on the Necron-style pyramid I’d found proved to be a non-starter. I just didn’t like the angles that it would place the feet/legs at without the pyramid being stove in, and I liked it too much to mess it up.
I picked up a couple of packets of HO-gauge railway diorama concrete roadway sections and spent a tedious evening designing, laying out, and then glueing crazy paving down.
I still wanted to have one of the feet raised. A chance eBay purchase of a Necron monolith gave me an idea. That Monolith spent a half-hour being carefully heat gunned into collapse. The footprint space was slowly pressed into the softened mass using the top of a claw hammer.
Having read about the problem people had with putting/keeping the nine-part feet together, I reverted to old school methods and used Araldite Rapid, turning each foot into a solid block after working out the position they needed to be in. I proved the fixing when I dropped one of them from a metre up onto tiles: it bounced and landed otherwise unharmed.
What with the drying times of greenstuff and purplestuff, I found myself able to run several build threads simultaneously, working on details while a major component cured.
Component-wise, I picked up half a dozen eBay bit boxes to provided detail pieces. The smaller soulstones and necron crystals are by Spellcrow, and the purple soulstones are repurposed acrylic craft jewellery.
Structural rods are 4mm brass, fixing rods are 3mm brass. Complex or loaded fixings use threaded 3mm rod for extra grip. All are locked in using Araldite Rapid. Structural joints will usually have a purplestuff liner in addition to rods.
The psychic lance tube is 2mm wall acryclic pipe.
Most of this build was done by eye. However, the last photo here shows what happens when the eye and the hand don’t synchronise. The rod through the pelvis emerged visibly. After a little consideration, I decided that re-drilling would weaken the critical part, so I decided to add an equivalent assembly on the other side rolled up out of greenstuff, so the twin rods would appear as just a part of this ancient titan.
Unbeknownst to me, the resin tiles I’d got to act as stacked spacers for the shoulders actually varied in thickness. This little detail became glaringly obvious when I first tried to align the holofin arrays. After a lot of swearing, I tore the duff spacers off, fetched a ruler, and spent a thrilling while sorting and measuring resin tiles. Then I carefully built new spacers.
Grinding down the bases of the holofins as the curvature no longer fitted the neck armour, I started off using thin greenstuff to create the side panels.
Which turned out to be a non-starter. The slightest knock and the little panels fell off! So I went back to old school methods again, using Araldite Rapid and layered paper.
I thought about what I was trying to portray and eventually decided that having everything lining up perfectly on the torso and shoulder joints didn’t reflect a gigantic titan on the move. So I let the pieces settle as they would, only re-doing if the piece drifted a long way past acceptable variance.
The Warlock Titan is even more of a top heavy beast than the Phantom. Given the needs of manoeuvrability, I decided it could do with an extra boost to provide dynamic balancing.
So I repurposed the jump jet pod from a Revenant, along with the ventral intakes.

And that’s where I paused the build, as the next phase requires taking the whole thing apart into major sections and detailing every piece (smaller soulstones on the powerfist, smoothing surplus epoxy, etc). The titan projects are to give me a couple of weeks off from writing. So far, this Warlock has taken me around four months.

Don’t get me wrong, I love it, but it’s meant to be a distraction, not a cause of it’s own. My non-writing hobbies are just that: things I do to stop myself writing. (I could write all the time, and the quality would gradually decline – even the ridiculously prolific storymaking engine in my head needs time to spin back up.)

On top of that, the consequences of working resin in a confined environment are not beneficial for me. So this titan build will resume in Summer 2021 when I can work in the kitchen with the back door open.

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Posted by on November 16, 2020 in Daybook


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Notes on Surviving Another Lockdown

I know I’m one of the few who finds lockdown only a minor change in tempo. This quick guide went down well on my social media, and someone suggested I make it a blog post. So, here’s a few pointers gleaned from avoiding society for years:
* Food, fuel and medicine will still be available. Ignore the panic buyers unless you need to get supplies, in which case buying small quantities from a couple of shops is easier. Be polite, ignore any hecklers. For consumables, aim for three days basic supplies at most. The panic will ease, just ride out the storm of stupidity.
* Look over your ‘non-essentials’ (as per government definitions). If you’ve been putting off getting an item, replacing something, etcetera, now’s the time to do it.
* While mail order will remain, delivery times will increase. Add an extra week for delivery to your calculations. (If the lockdown extends into December, start adding 10 days.)
* Get that spare standby battery for the smoke alarm. While you’re at it, get a reload for the remotes, too.
* What hit you hardest during the previous lockdown? Think about ways to reduce those impacts. Get that book, that game, that starter kit for a new hobby.
* Find out what the other people living with you loved and hated, too. Closed environments with multiple people are not places to be a loner in these times without first reassuring those about you.
* Get your furpeople some new toys, to be revealed on days when you need a boost.
* Physical exercise. Simple techniques using what you have, and an irregular routine is better than nothing at all.
* Understand that we’re all varying degrees of basket case telling lies on social media. Never judge or compare yourself to anyone, and never believe criticism from someone you wouldn’t go to for advice.
* Breathe slower. Drink more water. Sleep when you’re tired.
* Check in on your friends every week or two, depending on what they prefer.
* Do make that call/send that message you’ve been meaning to.
* We’re in this together. Don’t be tempted or lured into picking on others. Let it go.
* That’s key: ‘let it go’. You can’t fight this. All you can do is get by, and maybe discover new things about yourself in the process.

Two caveats:
1) If you’re poor, this shitshow will just be another month where it’ll at least be quieter.
2) If you’re intending to protest, this is the wrong guide for you.

Things to do post-lockdown.
Review what caught you out, the things you didn’t like, the things that helped, and the things you enjoyed. Then consider how to live with or around them, because there will be other lockdowns (regardless of their applicability or benefits).

Stay well, folks. Blessed Be.

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Posted by on November 2, 2020 in Uncategorized


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Until Our Fires Consume Us

Kintsugi is an art form whereby broken pottery is restored in a way that emphasises the repaired damage with a gold, silver or platinum finish applied to the sap adhesive used to fix and fill the cracks. The resulting piece is often considered to have been made more beautiful by this ancient art.

I wonder if there’s enough precious metal and resin in existence to repair the broken society revealed by SARS-CoV-2. (Then again, I had thought it beyond any hope of beautification, but seeing communities working together within themselves, rediscovering barter and communal support amongst many other things, forced me to reconsider that aspect.)

The monumental pause applied to the frantic pace of modern living has brought many to a crisis of truth – or denial. I have friends who have rediscovered baking, arts, crafts, and gardening. Several have realised improvements in their mental health just by having to slow down.

Others are becoming desperate as the hectic world that allowed them to avoid confronting the flaws in their lives has been placed on hold. This hiatus highlights where they settled for what they could get or made the easy choice, instead of undertaking the difficult journey to discover what they needed, then setting out to find that. In these suddenly quiet days, too many are coming to understand that ‘happy’ and ‘content’ are – sadly – not necessarily to be found at home.

Adding insult to injury, the barrage of dire headlines and the death-a-minute fascination of the media has frequently undone any good that might have been realised. Competing opinions, raw controversy, manufactured goads: it’s difficult to derive actual truths from the plethora of information that threatens to overwhelm everything we cherish, uncaring of whether it be truth or comforting delusion.

People I thought to be unshakable have been driven to take timeouts from social media or even media intake in general. People I thought decent have revealed how shallow they really are. I know of friends attacked as they try to do their job because of conspiracy theories spread by the ignorant and malicious on behalf of fanatical originators (with and without ulterior agenda).

Indeed, ‘fanaticism’ has become more prevalent. Desperate people, suddenly bereft of comfort, latching on to anything that gives a glimmer of hope – frequently being duped by the cheap tactic of being offered someone or something to blame for the lifestyle-swallowing instability that many have never encountered before. (The poorer amongst our societies have lived with facets of this gross instability for a long while. In this time of shortage and propaganda, even their resilience is being tested by the venal flailings of those possessed of wealth but mean of soul.)

Many years ago, I read an article that left a five-word truism with me: Nazism needs something to hate. A simple sentence that contains an observation that has haunted me ever since.

In times of trouble, having things to hate allows the ravages of fear to be alleviated by giving them a quantifiable manifestation. It makes people feel better having something to blame, and, by derivation, something to fight against, with the concomitant feeling that their fighting can make the scary thing go away.

Repressive regimes thrive on people’s need for purpose, for comfort. Once power is attained, they transition from being saviour to being a(nother) source of fear, while appearing to restore and maintain the status quo the people fought for (with a few limitations to ensure everybody’s safety and security, of course).

That need for comfort, for stability, for unchanging times of freedom from fears both small and large is graven into the inmates of this increasingly fractured civilisation like some self-repressive limiter. As long as we perceive ourselves as ‘alright’, or, at the least, are not forced to see/confront the crimes committed to maintain our idylls, we will tolerate all manner of charlatans who purport to have our best interests at heart. We will even defend those same fools with a fervour that goes beyond cognitive dissonance into outright mass delusion. When the liars have supportive media outlets, even our perceptions of what is ‘alright’ and what is unacceptable can be changed. The only variable is how long it takes.

I am, to some degree, a nihilist. I am also a believer in the incongruous beauty humans can manifest, even in the face of overwhelming horror. Even so, and striving for optimism, the best I can pick from recent events is this:

  For all our advances, we are still brutes huddled in tribal groups about the comforting fires of the subjective truths each tribe holds sacred. We are gazing out at the night beyond the fires – filled with all that we consider unknown, opposed, unknowable, or evil. We do so with varying degrees of abject terror, visible or otherwise, whether we admit to it or not, regardless of if we acknowledge or conceal it. We might even be able to see other fires, out there in the night, but only a few ever try to reach them. The stories they bring back we treat with suspicion, for who can trust someone who has willingly left our sacred fire?

  To keep the fires burning, we throw books into them. Books by those not of our tribe. Books that challenge our sacred views. Books we have been told are not to be read. Those books might contain the information we need, if we but read them; the methods to take our fires and turn them into torches to light our way to a better future.

  We will remain huddled about our fires until we admit that while others might hold views that differ from ours, we can still peacefully work with them to improve the lot of all.

Here, with more of less to go round and luxuries – like leisure time – only for the few, is where I expect we will stay until this civilisation withers and dies. The efforts of those who seek to unite will be outweighed by the fear of those who cling to comfort (except for a brief ineffective spasm, fuelled by desperation, when the end of us becomes too obvious to ignore – or offset).

What emerges from the true ‘dark age’ that approaches will hopefully, eventually, make art.

I think it is unlikely to be human as we reckon it.

And that is a good thing.

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Posted by on June 10, 2020 in Daybook


“How’re things going in England?”

Turning quietly fascist while the majority applaud before rushing to Macdonalds and IKEA.

Being allowed out to purchase lets them think they’re free. The comforting rush of acquisition allows them to ignore the broken, stratified society they refuse to admit is the source of the emptiness that amplifies their increasingly desperate cravings.

Because, as any addict knows, to admit to the problem is to acknowledge the delusions and crimes you have been complicit in. Which is something even cognizant addicts struggle to do.

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Posted by on June 2, 2020 in Daybook


Thoughts on Protest and Wasted Effort

A long while ago I had a chat with some people somewhat idealogically opposed to me. I made a few arguments that I thought I needed to do further thinking on, so I saved a transcript. While clearing out folders earlier today, I came across a partially edited version of that transcript, abandoned for over a decade for reasons unknown. As I read it, the events of the last few years impinged, prompting me to update and finish this.

Trapped in a system we try so hard to escape yet where, invariably, only a half to two-thirds of the population vote – at best. The opiates are quelling the masses and the stifling of activists by media blackouts prevents the hoi polloi being disturbed. Then again, they are more liable to change channel than watch serious news, fake or otherwise. While apathy is the prime motivator, the status quo remains.

Entrapped in the system is how society will stay until a viable alternative is proposed. But along with that, there has to be a way to get to the alternative from here. Noble aims are nothing but propaganda if you cannot find a way that would not cause more grief to the populace. Goals are laudable but, without method, they frequently remain ideals.

Naturally, those affected or motivated get angry. Often it’s ranting on social media. Sometimes actual protest. Sadly, in these times, shouting rarely does anything except irritate or induce fear because ranting rarely does anything to explain the causes – and even when it does, the message will often be lost because of the tone. People have a remarkable, sometimes verging on delusional, ability to ‘tune out’ things they decide are irrelevant – like when they decide you have nothing useful to say.

Take your anger and turn it into resolve. Form a network with other angry people. Draw from each of your skillsets and experience to chose an aspect of the problem to work on. Then dig into it with the fervour you dedicate to posting links by other disaffected people or highlighting crimes to the indifferent and the converted. Get to understand the problem deeply. Become experts on the things you perceive as ‘enemy’. Then, starting from the goals you have, see how you can gradually change this broken society to arrive there. Plan for small stages, small changes, because this is a monolithic, interdependent system and sudden major change will bring grief to those you are trying to save before affecting those things you need to modify, be they people or systems.

This implicit need for anger before action is a fundamental of change that has been dictated by the very systems so vehemently opposed. It is a delaying tactic that is divisive and that can be alienating. Thus, while the opposition argues over how to object, the plan in question continues.

There needs to be a serious reconsideration of the methods of dissention before even starting on the problems you oppose. Revolutionise the revolt before revolting against the system. Rebellion using ‘traditional’ methods can only cause traditionally acceptable change. Not good enough. Any revolution is flawed by its use of outdated concepts that have understood outcomes. Something new is required.

Protest within any framework dictated by those being protested against can achieve little. Those who wish to enact change in the 21st century must stop using unevolved 19th century methods – they will not achieve the fundamental changes that are needed.

I was damn sure that presenting a reasoned, viable solution is the only hope of getting the mass support needed to enact desperately needed change. Now, I am not sure even that will work, should the change be contrary to the dictates of those in control. It seems that solutions are irrelevant if you have a charismatic leader. (Yet again, history served a lesson that we ignored.)

No, I have no cohesive idea of a new way. I find myself a victim of my own restrictions. I believe in the adage “don’t bring me a problem, bring me a solution.” That is the only way, but in the current situation I feel a holistic understanding simply cannot be achieved in time to allow the necessary long series of small solutions to reach the defined remedy that averts a civilisation-changing catastrophe. That catastrophe will be prolonged, will end humanity as we know it, and will quite possibly render Homo sapiens extinct.

I believe that man’s venal nature will out, regardless. I hope to be proven wrong.




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Posted by on May 15, 2020 in Uncategorized

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