12.09.09
“Do you want to have longer sex?”
The radio add echo’s in my head whilst I am trying to push weights in the garage, ignoring the leaves and tricycles left in precarious places no doubt in order to test my ESP abilities.
“Do you want to have longer sex?”
This man is not married,
He does not have children.
Or what in this household we call Spawns of Hell; well that’s what I call them in any case. It may be a little unkind but when you link the distinctive Triple Sixes hidden on both of their blonde heads with their added ability to spin their heads like Linda Blair and project vomit at Clergy one has to make certain logical jumps. Heidi naturally refuses to see or accept any of this, that’s what religion does to you, blinds you from the Truth – proof of this of course being that she refuses to accept that I am God.
But anyway back to the add about ‘longer sex’.
When you have 2 little children being readied for Dissension into Dante’s various levels of Hell you do not have much time to have sex let alone have the libido ready for such an encounter and when the amazing confluence of time and libido come together you both look around to see what the Spawns are up to. Are they playing outside NICLEY? Are they watching a video? Do they like it? Is Hannah scared of any of it as she will run for Heidi? How long does the video have to run? Do we have condoms? (For obvious reasons)?
So no Mister Add person, we do not want longer sex. This would only lead to disruption by crying, running in the house, and yelling, screaming, holes in the walls and has Mr. Add Person ever looked up when you’re in a certain position to see a smiling little blond 4 year old asking why I am tickling Mummy?
I think not.
So I am happy with the special ability Heidi and I have to reach the Top of the Mountain and knock the Bastard off in record time. I do not care for the belief that I should be gesticulating for 5 hours, I do not want to, I do not want the pain nor the agony nor the knowledge that if I was able to go this long there would be 34 interruptions, which if I think about it IS the only way I would be able to last that long.
So keep your nasal spray and pills, keep your advertised women and men as I have reality to deal with and it is hard enough without being hard for as long as they assert I could be with their intervention.
The Grey Madness
11.09.09
11.09.09
Do you really think you can understand the slap on the face that is the truth?
You who are too used to trying to mitigate the pain of the initial insult to your essential truth.
Whoa be it that external reality could cause a disruption to the facts you covet and hold with arms closed tightly to your chest, to that chest which has already been caved in by the shock of non-adherence, to the sticky mess on your mind?
You'll never look underneath, past the charred radius and ulna to see the festering which was there is now gone and only the posthumously eaten remains sitting precariously waiting in their own turn to fall into a grave that may not be ready for them.
That was never made for them.
Such a tenuous hold onto a life that was never truly there and long since past,
yet ya'll know that should you ignore the instinct to look deeper you may be safe,
for a time,
for an infinitesimal period,
yet this is enough,
just as the straw a drowning man reaches for is enough for him as it is there and seen as opposed to the ungraspable opaque ocean.
Perspective kills when the frame of mind we operate from is occluded from the truth, when your frame of mind is so limited that you echo a Jewish haters sentiments
"You can have it what ever colour you like, as long as it's Black"
Funny coming from him and all.
A potential Grand Dragon,
not dressed in Red,
not hooded,
just leaping around in a smoky haze whilst the tyre circling his neck flames away.
Tell me now Bitch - is that a Goodyear?
The Grey Madness
Do you really think you can understand the slap on the face that is the truth?
You who are too used to trying to mitigate the pain of the initial insult to your essential truth.
Whoa be it that external reality could cause a disruption to the facts you covet and hold with arms closed tightly to your chest, to that chest which has already been caved in by the shock of non-adherence, to the sticky mess on your mind?
You'll never look underneath, past the charred radius and ulna to see the festering which was there is now gone and only the posthumously eaten remains sitting precariously waiting in their own turn to fall into a grave that may not be ready for them.
That was never made for them.
Such a tenuous hold onto a life that was never truly there and long since past,
yet ya'll know that should you ignore the instinct to look deeper you may be safe,
for a time,
for an infinitesimal period,
yet this is enough,
just as the straw a drowning man reaches for is enough for him as it is there and seen as opposed to the ungraspable opaque ocean.
Perspective kills when the frame of mind we operate from is occluded from the truth, when your frame of mind is so limited that you echo a Jewish haters sentiments
"You can have it what ever colour you like, as long as it's Black"
Funny coming from him and all.
A potential Grand Dragon,
not dressed in Red,
not hooded,
just leaping around in a smoky haze whilst the tyre circling his neck flames away.
Tell me now Bitch - is that a Goodyear?
The Grey Madness
Temporary disruption
I have heard it said that Great Birds, unlike others in their genus,
do not flock together.
They come along one at a time.
Like True Leaders.
I was not there at the nascent period of her arrival though when I turned up I was amazed at her ability, her innate presence that without effort took over the room and created an environment in that we all knew we were capable of being the best that we we could be and all due to this undefinable but undeniable essence.
And then in front of our eyes she grew from strength to strength and became more of a presence which we had already known for an age, even the new among us felt the non-exerted power that she had at her very finger tips, to watch her in action was to watch a study in perfection as well as a study of nature entering a system created by fallible men and women though she was able to transcend this and make the outcome for those that we care for both relevant and real.
Perhaps this is why she was earmarked for destruction.
A Leader does not hide from the truth nor hide the telling of it, a Leader does not fear others around them, a Leader helps those who want to aspire to the heights that the Leader has assailed without fear that they may be usurped.
A Leader is a rare thing, rare to be seen, rare to be privileged to be close to and rare to be acknowledged.
A Leader I guess is a threat to others who do not like the truth to be a free and accessible thing, to be offered up as the reality of a situation without a spin Doctor flailing away at in in the first instance. It's not that the Leader is a freedom fighter or rouge character, far from it - the Leader does not work within a construct of thought that needs reflection upon a company charter, the Leader is natural, without bias and without profit for themselves.
Perhaps this is why they are feared.Perhaps this is why she was feared.
Perhaps this is why she is no longer with us,
for now.
I have never to this day seen a person that epitomises Strength of Character without using energy to try and convince others, I have never seen a person that draws people to them without trying or buying them with false hope and false expectation for within her is the reality of truth and she has never blanched from this sense of herself, some would see this as a duty - not her as she is this, there is no debate or argument,
she is a Leader.
Someone we love, someone we trust on meeting her and someone that will come through adversity if not due to her innate self, due to the mass of energy she has created by being herself, by affecting us in the manner she has and why,
with reason we look towards the sky and know that injustice will not prevail.
I sit here typing in a futile attempt to capture her essence, her very being, though I am not unduly upset as those that truly know her already have read this script and have always known it. In all of our battles and all the time we stood side by side I never thought things would end up this way, probably due to the fact that we always acted with the best interests of those we looked after in mind, the best interest of the community and those we worked with.
Naturally.
This is a person that helped guide me through the depths of a psychotic break, a person who ensured my job was not at risk so I could return to that which I know well and am extremely good at.
This is an individual that without thought for herself helps family, workmates, friends and finds enough time to represent both her countries in international Sport.
This is a person that you are privileged to meet let alone know, this is a person who betters your life by association.
In this instance I am reminded of George Orwell's 1984 when the middle management played out the most important scenes and controlled the masses, though in this instance I believe that we will not allow the fake gin to flow and take away the thoughts of independence, this situation will highlight why we are here and remind us that she gave us a foundation and platform from which to work from, to live by and to be.
Orwell had another book that relates closely to this - Animal Farm.
One of the classic quotes is
"All animals are equal, it's just that some animals are more equal that others."
He was right in a manner of speaking, not in the way that teachers will have you believe, he had that the pigs were actually in control, the long striving and hard working horse died due to the part he had to play, the others suffered due to this though of course it was still a system of equality, no matter how many died due to deficiencies in the system,
And Communism folded into itself under the weight of it's own debauched ideology.
And this will continue to be the way, of cycles through out time that may have different garb though the underlying road map is no different to that of 6000 years ago.
And so apparently all Animals are Equal,
Yet Alone and waiting,
High on a warm zephyr and circling,
Awaiting the right time,
Is the Leader we love and know.
She will never lose.
It's only us that can do that,
Should we forget the truth.
She sits on high yet resides close to us,
No matter what,
She is and will always be there,
That's what she is and what she does.
A Leader in action,
Before the word was known,
Before the word was spelt,
Before those that feared the truth came to be.
And as She circles our needs,
The sun gives us a clue,
Through feathers filtered,
That she will never leave.
And never change.
A True Leader never does.
David Barnett
do not flock together.
They come along one at a time.
Like True Leaders.
I was not there at the nascent period of her arrival though when I turned up I was amazed at her ability, her innate presence that without effort took over the room and created an environment in that we all knew we were capable of being the best that we we could be and all due to this undefinable but undeniable essence.
And then in front of our eyes she grew from strength to strength and became more of a presence which we had already known for an age, even the new among us felt the non-exerted power that she had at her very finger tips, to watch her in action was to watch a study in perfection as well as a study of nature entering a system created by fallible men and women though she was able to transcend this and make the outcome for those that we care for both relevant and real.
Perhaps this is why she was earmarked for destruction.
A Leader does not hide from the truth nor hide the telling of it, a Leader does not fear others around them, a Leader helps those who want to aspire to the heights that the Leader has assailed without fear that they may be usurped.
A Leader is a rare thing, rare to be seen, rare to be privileged to be close to and rare to be acknowledged.
A Leader I guess is a threat to others who do not like the truth to be a free and accessible thing, to be offered up as the reality of a situation without a spin Doctor flailing away at in in the first instance. It's not that the Leader is a freedom fighter or rouge character, far from it - the Leader does not work within a construct of thought that needs reflection upon a company charter, the Leader is natural, without bias and without profit for themselves.
Perhaps this is why they are feared.Perhaps this is why she was feared.
Perhaps this is why she is no longer with us,
for now.
I have never to this day seen a person that epitomises Strength of Character without using energy to try and convince others, I have never seen a person that draws people to them without trying or buying them with false hope and false expectation for within her is the reality of truth and she has never blanched from this sense of herself, some would see this as a duty - not her as she is this, there is no debate or argument,
she is a Leader.
Someone we love, someone we trust on meeting her and someone that will come through adversity if not due to her innate self, due to the mass of energy she has created by being herself, by affecting us in the manner she has and why,
with reason we look towards the sky and know that injustice will not prevail.
I sit here typing in a futile attempt to capture her essence, her very being, though I am not unduly upset as those that truly know her already have read this script and have always known it. In all of our battles and all the time we stood side by side I never thought things would end up this way, probably due to the fact that we always acted with the best interests of those we looked after in mind, the best interest of the community and those we worked with.
Naturally.
This is a person that helped guide me through the depths of a psychotic break, a person who ensured my job was not at risk so I could return to that which I know well and am extremely good at.
This is an individual that without thought for herself helps family, workmates, friends and finds enough time to represent both her countries in international Sport.
This is a person that you are privileged to meet let alone know, this is a person who betters your life by association.
In this instance I am reminded of George Orwell's 1984 when the middle management played out the most important scenes and controlled the masses, though in this instance I believe that we will not allow the fake gin to flow and take away the thoughts of independence, this situation will highlight why we are here and remind us that she gave us a foundation and platform from which to work from, to live by and to be.
Orwell had another book that relates closely to this - Animal Farm.
One of the classic quotes is
"All animals are equal, it's just that some animals are more equal that others."
He was right in a manner of speaking, not in the way that teachers will have you believe, he had that the pigs were actually in control, the long striving and hard working horse died due to the part he had to play, the others suffered due to this though of course it was still a system of equality, no matter how many died due to deficiencies in the system,
And Communism folded into itself under the weight of it's own debauched ideology.
And this will continue to be the way, of cycles through out time that may have different garb though the underlying road map is no different to that of 6000 years ago.
And so apparently all Animals are Equal,
Yet Alone and waiting,
High on a warm zephyr and circling,
Awaiting the right time,
Is the Leader we love and know.
She will never lose.
It's only us that can do that,
Should we forget the truth.
She sits on high yet resides close to us,
No matter what,
She is and will always be there,
That's what she is and what she does.
A Leader in action,
Before the word was known,
Before the word was spelt,
Before those that feared the truth came to be.
And as She circles our needs,
The sun gives us a clue,
Through feathers filtered,
That she will never leave.
And never change.
A True Leader never does.
David Barnett
Musings of hatred
Do you really think you can understand the slap on the face that is the truth?
You who are too used to trying to mitigate the pain of the initial insult to your essential truth.
Whoa be it that external reality could cause a disruption to the facts you covet and hold with arms tight to your chest,
to that chest that has already been caved in by the shock of non-adherence to the sticky mess on your mind?
You'll never look underneath, past the charred radius and ulna to see that the festering which was there is now gone and only the posthumously eaten remains sitting precariously waiting in their own turn to fall into a grave that may not be ready for them.
Such a tenuous hold onto a life that was never truly there and long since past, yet ya'll know that should you ignore the instinct to look deeper you may be safe,
for a time,
for an infinitesimal period,
yet this is enough, just as the straw a drowning man reaches for is enough for him as it is there and seen as opposed to the ungraspable opaque ocean.
Perspective kills when the frame of mind we operate from is occluded from the truth, when your frame of mind is so limited that you echo a Jewish haters sentiments
"You can have it what ever colour you like, as long as it's Black"
Funny coming from him and all.
A potential Grand Dragon,
not dressed in Red,
not hooded,
just leaping around in a smokey haze whilst the tire circling his neck flames away.
Tell me now Bitch - is that a Goodyear?
The Grey Madness
You who are too used to trying to mitigate the pain of the initial insult to your essential truth.
Whoa be it that external reality could cause a disruption to the facts you covet and hold with arms tight to your chest,
to that chest that has already been caved in by the shock of non-adherence to the sticky mess on your mind?
You'll never look underneath, past the charred radius and ulna to see that the festering which was there is now gone and only the posthumously eaten remains sitting precariously waiting in their own turn to fall into a grave that may not be ready for them.
Such a tenuous hold onto a life that was never truly there and long since past, yet ya'll know that should you ignore the instinct to look deeper you may be safe,
for a time,
for an infinitesimal period,
yet this is enough, just as the straw a drowning man reaches for is enough for him as it is there and seen as opposed to the ungraspable opaque ocean.
Perspective kills when the frame of mind we operate from is occluded from the truth, when your frame of mind is so limited that you echo a Jewish haters sentiments
"You can have it what ever colour you like, as long as it's Black"
Funny coming from him and all.
A potential Grand Dragon,
not dressed in Red,
not hooded,
just leaping around in a smokey haze whilst the tire circling his neck flames away.
Tell me now Bitch - is that a Goodyear?
The Grey Madness
Dark Knights
Last week I spent 3 long days at training with other nurses from both ours and other prisons, we were learning about Pre-Hospital Emergency Care at St Johns Ambulance Headquarters, no doubt in order to make our emergency care more effective and efficacious for the patient/prisoner and of course to ensure prison nursing was up to community expectations - which as far as I'm concerned we already are, though of course training helps to ensure this continues.
Over the 3 days we were put through different scenarios - e.g. different medical and emergency presentations to assess, diagnose, treat and manage. We would be paired together - one being the patient/prisoner and the other the nurse. Many of these scenarios were had and assessed by our tutor, my poor head was full to over flowing by the end of the course.
So when on Friday (being back at prison, and at the end of the day) a young prisoner came into medical clutching the left side of his chest and complaining of tingling down his left arm naturally I looked around the room wondering where the tutor was hiding, not seeing her I then tried to find the camera and/or recording device as after 3 days of intensive training this seemed too simple and straight forward - this does not happen to me (I deal with the mentally unwell, personality disordered and at risk prisoners, so as a rule not the medical side of things) and for it to happen after 3 days of pre-hospital training when I was initially the only nurse in evidence seemed a little too contrived to me.
Not seeing the tutor or camera I did not discount the probability that this was still a test and so decided to play along and treat the presentation as real. I lay him down on one of our medical beds and took the history whilst Pam (a real nurse who turned up and was also in the class I had just completed) took the vital signs and we decided at this point an ambulance was required. We continued to take the history of presenting complaint, signs and symptoms, any allergies, medications he was on, pre-existing medical conditions, last food and fluid eaten, events leading up to the event, what was provoking the pain, quality of the pain, region or radiation of the pain, severity of pain, time of onset - etc, still believing that this was a test (Pam was of this thought too - I had an accomplice in the paranoid construct) though when the paramedics turned up and thought he needed to go to hospital I was less of the mind that this was part of an extended assessment; less of the mind though not entirely convinced as I know what extents the Government has gone to track and trace my movements since my teenage years, I must be a threat in some manner though I have not worked out what part I play in the script penned in 1984.
Next came the phone calls to Pam when she was in medical from hospital informing her that Dr's thought our patient/prisoner had indeed suffered a Transient Ischemic Attack (small resolvable stroke which can be a harbinger of further cerebral infarction) though the prisoner was refusing care and wanted to return to Prison - no discussion with him was able to have him remain in hospital and he returned to prison for us to look after him.
Due to the complexity of the presentation and the added complication of him refusing care again had my paranoia piqued though by that stage I had the hospital discharge letter in my hands and if this was indeed a test it was a bloody good one as most bases appeared to be covered. Even the discharge letter from the attending Dr indicated the seriousness of this presentation and the potential consequences of medical complication associated with refusal of care/medical intervention.
I thought the best way to ensure this prisoner was looked after was to place him in Special Needs Unit under 15 minute observations though as he knew this meant no TV in cell, no smoking and reduced freedom he became ++ agitated. Whilst I could have enforced my decision and course of action I considered that any potential therapeutic benefit would be heavily offset by the increase in his blood pressure alongside agitation which of course is something we never want in someone with a potential cerebral incident as another may be precipitated.
So I ended up placing him back in his cell with a cellmate he knows and who will also look out for any baseline changes and if needed press the alarm button in the cell.
Not ideal - though what in life these days is?
Funny (not really) how we have to go to the wall in order to be able to make decisions and plans in the absence of best therapeutic choice. In fact in life we, at times, have to make decisions in the absence of best option availability - this is the reality of risk assessment, in any field.
Those that make decisions in this environment are aware of the risk though also aware that should they abandon the need to make a call due to things not moving from a to b or 1 to 2 then there will be an even worse outcome.
In-decision I believe at times is worse than the wrong decision.
It's not about putting your balls on the line, it's how you handle them -its about leaning into the wind that discourages others and making a call that you are comfortable with, no matter what the outcome, because you have considered all sides - and it will be because of your decision that you own the outcome and move from that.
The Tiger knows how to attack and is fearsome, yet it is the Dragon that can both attack and defend in the same action, he knows both worlds and with fluid movement travels seamlessly through them both.
And so it is, knowing events and even being without power to change you still have variables to deal with and to manage - one just needs to know the players and the limits, we are not Gods, we should not live with the expectation exuded by those that look up at us with begging eyes.
So I left prison last Friday around 2300 hours wondering and hoping my previous charge would be OK, that he would not have a repeat medical emergency.
I spoke to one of the Undead who was shuffling in some sort of Michael Jackson homage on the road entrance to our prison on the way to my car, after giving him a run down of events he simply looked at me, his head still and focused whilst his body contorted in unnatural ways, and quipped
"You think too much, just let it be, nature always takes care of itself."
I countered with nurse role obligation and expectation from the Nursing Council but he was not moved and only retorted,
"Power is only gained by those who have been given it by others - have you learnt nothing from the Salem Trials?"
We sat and drank a mixture of Belladonna and Vodka, musing about the growing development of the new prison and wondering where we will sit once it is completed as the boulder we were reposed on will likely not remain. Again he reminded me that not all can see his kind as this requires a special sight, no doubt gently letting me know he would always be there for supervision in a way that supervision as a word was not created.
I like him and I like his advice, not that I understand all of it though it relaxed me as we sat on the railway tracks looking into the mist rolling around us, nearly 0000 hours and all life now made sense, well at least the small part I was privy too, but then again why should I look too far, I guess that was what he was telling me.
We sat and ruffled the thick neck fur of the Werebats who had found us philosophising and knew we were the right kind of Socratic thinkers to slide up next to, they must have felt the energy and wanted to be part of it, to be close if only for a while in order to say they had been there and felt it.
Indeed to be in the right place at the right time and to see the water hit the high mark, for it to remain there in order for those with sight to understand is an especial thing, before it dips again into the shared primordial soup,
Into the collective dull.
To be all that you can be depends on whether you understand and accept the sage inscription above the entrance to the Oracle -
Know thyself.
And don't discharge yourself against medical advice.
The Grey Madness
Over the 3 days we were put through different scenarios - e.g. different medical and emergency presentations to assess, diagnose, treat and manage. We would be paired together - one being the patient/prisoner and the other the nurse. Many of these scenarios were had and assessed by our tutor, my poor head was full to over flowing by the end of the course.
So when on Friday (being back at prison, and at the end of the day) a young prisoner came into medical clutching the left side of his chest and complaining of tingling down his left arm naturally I looked around the room wondering where the tutor was hiding, not seeing her I then tried to find the camera and/or recording device as after 3 days of intensive training this seemed too simple and straight forward - this does not happen to me (I deal with the mentally unwell, personality disordered and at risk prisoners, so as a rule not the medical side of things) and for it to happen after 3 days of pre-hospital training when I was initially the only nurse in evidence seemed a little too contrived to me.
Not seeing the tutor or camera I did not discount the probability that this was still a test and so decided to play along and treat the presentation as real. I lay him down on one of our medical beds and took the history whilst Pam (a real nurse who turned up and was also in the class I had just completed) took the vital signs and we decided at this point an ambulance was required. We continued to take the history of presenting complaint, signs and symptoms, any allergies, medications he was on, pre-existing medical conditions, last food and fluid eaten, events leading up to the event, what was provoking the pain, quality of the pain, region or radiation of the pain, severity of pain, time of onset - etc, still believing that this was a test (Pam was of this thought too - I had an accomplice in the paranoid construct) though when the paramedics turned up and thought he needed to go to hospital I was less of the mind that this was part of an extended assessment; less of the mind though not entirely convinced as I know what extents the Government has gone to track and trace my movements since my teenage years, I must be a threat in some manner though I have not worked out what part I play in the script penned in 1984.
Next came the phone calls to Pam when she was in medical from hospital informing her that Dr's thought our patient/prisoner had indeed suffered a Transient Ischemic Attack (small resolvable stroke which can be a harbinger of further cerebral infarction) though the prisoner was refusing care and wanted to return to Prison - no discussion with him was able to have him remain in hospital and he returned to prison for us to look after him.
Due to the complexity of the presentation and the added complication of him refusing care again had my paranoia piqued though by that stage I had the hospital discharge letter in my hands and if this was indeed a test it was a bloody good one as most bases appeared to be covered. Even the discharge letter from the attending Dr indicated the seriousness of this presentation and the potential consequences of medical complication associated with refusal of care/medical intervention.
I thought the best way to ensure this prisoner was looked after was to place him in Special Needs Unit under 15 minute observations though as he knew this meant no TV in cell, no smoking and reduced freedom he became ++ agitated. Whilst I could have enforced my decision and course of action I considered that any potential therapeutic benefit would be heavily offset by the increase in his blood pressure alongside agitation which of course is something we never want in someone with a potential cerebral incident as another may be precipitated.
So I ended up placing him back in his cell with a cellmate he knows and who will also look out for any baseline changes and if needed press the alarm button in the cell.
Not ideal - though what in life these days is?
Funny (not really) how we have to go to the wall in order to be able to make decisions and plans in the absence of best therapeutic choice. In fact in life we, at times, have to make decisions in the absence of best option availability - this is the reality of risk assessment, in any field.
Those that make decisions in this environment are aware of the risk though also aware that should they abandon the need to make a call due to things not moving from a to b or 1 to 2 then there will be an even worse outcome.
In-decision I believe at times is worse than the wrong decision.
It's not about putting your balls on the line, it's how you handle them -its about leaning into the wind that discourages others and making a call that you are comfortable with, no matter what the outcome, because you have considered all sides - and it will be because of your decision that you own the outcome and move from that.
The Tiger knows how to attack and is fearsome, yet it is the Dragon that can both attack and defend in the same action, he knows both worlds and with fluid movement travels seamlessly through them both.
And so it is, knowing events and even being without power to change you still have variables to deal with and to manage - one just needs to know the players and the limits, we are not Gods, we should not live with the expectation exuded by those that look up at us with begging eyes.
So I left prison last Friday around 2300 hours wondering and hoping my previous charge would be OK, that he would not have a repeat medical emergency.
I spoke to one of the Undead who was shuffling in some sort of Michael Jackson homage on the road entrance to our prison on the way to my car, after giving him a run down of events he simply looked at me, his head still and focused whilst his body contorted in unnatural ways, and quipped
"You think too much, just let it be, nature always takes care of itself."
I countered with nurse role obligation and expectation from the Nursing Council but he was not moved and only retorted,
"Power is only gained by those who have been given it by others - have you learnt nothing from the Salem Trials?"
We sat and drank a mixture of Belladonna and Vodka, musing about the growing development of the new prison and wondering where we will sit once it is completed as the boulder we were reposed on will likely not remain. Again he reminded me that not all can see his kind as this requires a special sight, no doubt gently letting me know he would always be there for supervision in a way that supervision as a word was not created.
I like him and I like his advice, not that I understand all of it though it relaxed me as we sat on the railway tracks looking into the mist rolling around us, nearly 0000 hours and all life now made sense, well at least the small part I was privy too, but then again why should I look too far, I guess that was what he was telling me.
We sat and ruffled the thick neck fur of the Werebats who had found us philosophising and knew we were the right kind of Socratic thinkers to slide up next to, they must have felt the energy and wanted to be part of it, to be close if only for a while in order to say they had been there and felt it.
Indeed to be in the right place at the right time and to see the water hit the high mark, for it to remain there in order for those with sight to understand is an especial thing, before it dips again into the shared primordial soup,
Into the collective dull.
To be all that you can be depends on whether you understand and accept the sage inscription above the entrance to the Oracle -
Know thyself.
And don't discharge yourself against medical advice.
The Grey Madness
05.07.09
Yep - another Bloody Sunday.
Not in the sense of U2's political song - even though they railed against it being a protest song what else can you have taken from it?
Being Irish and struggling appear to come hand in hand, though take away the potato famine and you are left with a native struggling against an invader, a story more common than is admitted in the world, a theme that appears reflective of a necessity to understand and forgive examples of apparent exploration and progress.
Here in New Zealand we have had a similar journey - stolen lands, forfeit of rights, not allowed to speak our native language, told to forget the oral history of our Fathers and of the Land.
For what ever reason these actions failed to exterminate the native Maori language and beliefs, now we are faced with a resurgence in the field of Maori knowledge and practice.
Why am I writing of this? I'm not entirely sure as I let the fingers hit the key board without limitation though now here we have to look at the evidence, look at the weight of history.
Like a mill stone around the collective neck, some are Strong and resist though now more than ever is the acknowledgement that things were were not right and now redress is asked for.
But what redress can one ask from the mistakes of the past? What good is an apology, what good is a reversed geared racist Governmental department? How can anyone expect to see a change for the positive inside the sterile shell of a legal document that knows nothing of the pain of so many years?
There is no quick answer for a chronic problem.
With Maori over represented in prisons and with New Zealand having one of the highest per capita imprisonment rates we appear to be doing only well for those that seemingly eventually will become the benefactors of the Private Prison System that appears to becoming a reality sooner rather than later.
Dostoevsky famously stated that to measure the degree of civilisation in a society one needs only to see how they treat their prisoners,
he said this after spending time in prison himself.
With this in mind I give us 10 years before the first NZ Supermax Prison Facility is a reality.
The Grey Madness
Not in the sense of U2's political song - even though they railed against it being a protest song what else can you have taken from it?
Being Irish and struggling appear to come hand in hand, though take away the potato famine and you are left with a native struggling against an invader, a story more common than is admitted in the world, a theme that appears reflective of a necessity to understand and forgive examples of apparent exploration and progress.
Here in New Zealand we have had a similar journey - stolen lands, forfeit of rights, not allowed to speak our native language, told to forget the oral history of our Fathers and of the Land.
For what ever reason these actions failed to exterminate the native Maori language and beliefs, now we are faced with a resurgence in the field of Maori knowledge and practice.
Why am I writing of this? I'm not entirely sure as I let the fingers hit the key board without limitation though now here we have to look at the evidence, look at the weight of history.
Like a mill stone around the collective neck, some are Strong and resist though now more than ever is the acknowledgement that things were were not right and now redress is asked for.
But what redress can one ask from the mistakes of the past? What good is an apology, what good is a reversed geared racist Governmental department? How can anyone expect to see a change for the positive inside the sterile shell of a legal document that knows nothing of the pain of so many years?
There is no quick answer for a chronic problem.
With Maori over represented in prisons and with New Zealand having one of the highest per capita imprisonment rates we appear to be doing only well for those that seemingly eventually will become the benefactors of the Private Prison System that appears to becoming a reality sooner rather than later.
Dostoevsky famously stated that to measure the degree of civilisation in a society one needs only to see how they treat their prisoners,
he said this after spending time in prison himself.
With this in mind I give us 10 years before the first NZ Supermax Prison Facility is a reality.
The Grey Madness
Beer
Not one of the more original titles of the artistic world though probably one of the only four letter words that is acceptable to most of those out there trying to find their way in and out of the traffic called life.
And why should we not return to basics, to the true form of life, the escape into bliss, away from what those in suits and government departments call reality.
Hell - we look at ancient Mesopotamia and wonder about the beginning of the fertile crescent, the fertilisation of life, we look at the then lightening progress forward towards civilization and forget that beer was originated in great supply due to the surplus of barley and wheat which allowed for craftsmen to develop the art of alcohol.
The rest of what we call civilization has only brought us war, famine and despair - in fact I have pretty strong evidence that The Four Horsemen came to be from the cauldron of so called development. If we had the smarts to leave the standard of progress at the door of Beer and associated alcohol things we would not be in the dire way we are now, and if we were I would prefer to fight to the death for beer than oil or land, in fact with beer as the staple in the diet fighting would be easier than usual and conscription would not be needed considering some of the side effects of alcohol - to those that point out my irony I would say that wars fought and fueled by alcohol do not last as long as conventional ones and the Seven Day war would be considered an epoch in relation to the time a beer war took to start and finish.
I guess we would have to thank the English for deriving aspirin from the Willow tree though, I guess in every positive is a negative, the Japanese balance thingy and all.
Which brings us to Sake, who the hell thought you could get this out of rice, lovely warm drink that slinks it's way into the system quickly and without effort, deceiving the mind with its ability to take over the decision making process, well possibly, most us are happy to leave the decisions to someone else, or something else.
So I have been back at prison for about 2 months full time and all is going well, no indicators that the bottom of the behavioural sink is coming up to grab at me again, no claw marks, no teeth marks though my throat remains sore, my left shoulder and side of neck are still out as well as my left hand remaining bruised and swollen.
One of my patients in the Special Needs Unit decided to attack me when I was administering medication to him in the Round Room - quite a strong bugga he was though I felt for him after the event. Naturally officers came to help the situation and of course my usual belligerence remained to ensure I would not back down or let him go and we managed to take him down and take back the control he had lost.
I don't know why these things do not bother me too much, why I have no bitter feelings towards the person who has attacked me (it has happened ++ before, a side effect of the job), and why I am easily able to engage them again in more therapeutic action. In this case I was able to ask the officers to leave the room and leave him with me to talk, he was obviously distressed and felt out of control, we talked and then I left him alone to have time out and to settle then saw him again after an hour. Together we developed a plan for his progress forward and I was looking forward to pursuing this with him though unfortunately he was classified too high for our prison and he was transferred the next day - unfortunately as I believe I could have helped him through the intrapsychic distress he was going through.
My job.
Risk assessment, management, treatment, mitigation.
Forensic psychiatry.
One title for what I do though what it essentially comes down to is being human, listening to the truth and depth that is often hidden by doors not erected by those in the the midst of the pain, pain that was not of their doing or asking and now I see them in front of me as confused and wondering how they got to this point and what in the hell they can do to escape the pain.
Perhaps a better title is Translator.
Things don't need to be complicated, neither do answers, but we make them this way in order to fool ourselves into believing we are evolved and different from other strains of the animal world though in reality is this the truth or another form of dressage?
Civilization?
Creep into the head of a mentally unwell prisoner and ask yourself if this word truly exists.
Civil indeed.
I would invite you back to the Fertile Crescent 5000 BC where beer was brewed and men gathered together though as yet government departments were not there to taint the reality of the day.
I have an animal skin for warmth, my house is of baked brick, my family is fed, my life is governed by seasons and the ebb and flow of the river,
I sit at a communal fire watching the movement of the stars, noting the coming time to sow or to harvest,
Innately I know fellowship.
A better word than civilization which was to stain the carpet of life and bring us to now, to the time where the very planet has no say over the future, only men with money who trust no one and know only stock values and the price of a barrel of oil.
Someone pass me a keg.
And why should we not return to basics, to the true form of life, the escape into bliss, away from what those in suits and government departments call reality.
Hell - we look at ancient Mesopotamia and wonder about the beginning of the fertile crescent, the fertilisation of life, we look at the then lightening progress forward towards civilization and forget that beer was originated in great supply due to the surplus of barley and wheat which allowed for craftsmen to develop the art of alcohol.
The rest of what we call civilization has only brought us war, famine and despair - in fact I have pretty strong evidence that The Four Horsemen came to be from the cauldron of so called development. If we had the smarts to leave the standard of progress at the door of Beer and associated alcohol things we would not be in the dire way we are now, and if we were I would prefer to fight to the death for beer than oil or land, in fact with beer as the staple in the diet fighting would be easier than usual and conscription would not be needed considering some of the side effects of alcohol - to those that point out my irony I would say that wars fought and fueled by alcohol do not last as long as conventional ones and the Seven Day war would be considered an epoch in relation to the time a beer war took to start and finish.
I guess we would have to thank the English for deriving aspirin from the Willow tree though, I guess in every positive is a negative, the Japanese balance thingy and all.
Which brings us to Sake, who the hell thought you could get this out of rice, lovely warm drink that slinks it's way into the system quickly and without effort, deceiving the mind with its ability to take over the decision making process, well possibly, most us are happy to leave the decisions to someone else, or something else.
So I have been back at prison for about 2 months full time and all is going well, no indicators that the bottom of the behavioural sink is coming up to grab at me again, no claw marks, no teeth marks though my throat remains sore, my left shoulder and side of neck are still out as well as my left hand remaining bruised and swollen.
One of my patients in the Special Needs Unit decided to attack me when I was administering medication to him in the Round Room - quite a strong bugga he was though I felt for him after the event. Naturally officers came to help the situation and of course my usual belligerence remained to ensure I would not back down or let him go and we managed to take him down and take back the control he had lost.
I don't know why these things do not bother me too much, why I have no bitter feelings towards the person who has attacked me (it has happened ++ before, a side effect of the job), and why I am easily able to engage them again in more therapeutic action. In this case I was able to ask the officers to leave the room and leave him with me to talk, he was obviously distressed and felt out of control, we talked and then I left him alone to have time out and to settle then saw him again after an hour. Together we developed a plan for his progress forward and I was looking forward to pursuing this with him though unfortunately he was classified too high for our prison and he was transferred the next day - unfortunately as I believe I could have helped him through the intrapsychic distress he was going through.
My job.
Risk assessment, management, treatment, mitigation.
Forensic psychiatry.
One title for what I do though what it essentially comes down to is being human, listening to the truth and depth that is often hidden by doors not erected by those in the the midst of the pain, pain that was not of their doing or asking and now I see them in front of me as confused and wondering how they got to this point and what in the hell they can do to escape the pain.
Perhaps a better title is Translator.
Things don't need to be complicated, neither do answers, but we make them this way in order to fool ourselves into believing we are evolved and different from other strains of the animal world though in reality is this the truth or another form of dressage?
Civilization?
Creep into the head of a mentally unwell prisoner and ask yourself if this word truly exists.
Civil indeed.
I would invite you back to the Fertile Crescent 5000 BC where beer was brewed and men gathered together though as yet government departments were not there to taint the reality of the day.
I have an animal skin for warmth, my house is of baked brick, my family is fed, my life is governed by seasons and the ebb and flow of the river,
I sit at a communal fire watching the movement of the stars, noting the coming time to sow or to harvest,
Innately I know fellowship.
A better word than civilization which was to stain the carpet of life and bring us to now, to the time where the very planet has no say over the future, only men with money who trust no one and know only stock values and the price of a barrel of oil.
Someone pass me a keg.
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