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.