Author: cherokoff

Looking back – not always a good idea – it seems that I have spend a large proportion of my maturing, mature and mouldering life on edge. Watching, saying it in my head before saying it out loud. Running a mental video preview of an actual action – before deciding whether to do it.

I don’t know whether this is normal, but it can be bloody tiring.

Assessing the past, there was an enormity of anxiety, fear, dread. So much time spent scared that the decision made, or not made, the word spoken, or unspoken, will lead to catastrophe, or inertia.

Still looking back, there were times, and people, places and periods of happiness, contentment, joy. I can select particular moments, with particular people, that still bring a warmth and a tear of joy.

There are also a good variety that still twist the stomach, shorten the breath, produce an involuntary mental wince. Sadness, stupidity, misinterpretation and misguided behaviour. Lesson learned.

And in between, vigilance, worry and concern.

Because those good moments, those times of joy, of safety, of warmth and comfort, those periods of up are transitory, or illusionary, or undeserved.

The sun is shining on my back at the moment. There are people in my life that make each second with them a blessing, and each new day of knowing them a life worth living. And with them, for a while, I can stop the surveillance, and trust to life, to instinct, to me.

But in between those seconds, there a periods of questions, the same questions that have always been there. And the most repeated – are you sure you deserve this?

In the balance of value, of worth, there is never the feeling of knowing where to fit, where to be.

And the happier the moments are, the more time feeling safe, and content, and surrounded by the best of people, the more the fear grows. That it will go, that it isn’t mine, that it’s the worst of jokes at my expense.

It’s not all about me, because I know others fear too. But this is my fear, and I wish it would fuck off!!

Hey thoughts, heart, soul. Can you hear me? Do me a favour. Give me a break and just be happy!!

I know that the basic principle behind a blog is that, even if the content makes no sense, it should at least be presented in as coherent a way as possible.

And most of the time I try to keep my rants understandable. Maybe off-kilter, maybe illogical, but at least in complete sentences.

But sometimes there aren’t the words to clearly enunciate the anger, and helplessness, and fury, and helplessness.

In so many ways my life is infinitely better than it has been, which doesn’t stop me being a miserable old pessimist. But every day I am grateful for what has emerged to lift my life from where it was to where it is, and where it has yet to go.

Which is why, when I see those who I hold dear, who have been intrinsic to lifting me, having to deal with load after load of shite, the anger, the rage, builds inside.

There definitively seems to be an imbalance in the universe where those that most deserve everything that is good, and shiny, and warm, and comforting; they are the ones that get a disproportionate amount of the stress, trials, and stumbles that arseholes seem never to receive.

I still await a justification for the punishment of the best in this world, a reason why those who bring joy into others lives have to get through so much that is hard and unnecessary.

There is no explanation, there is no fairness, there is just a cosmos with a Tory sense of fair play.

And I know it doesn’t help those that I want to help the most, and I know it will have no impact on any lives, at all. But sometimes I have to scream at the void, because the anger at the unfairness needs to be bellowed at until my voice is gone!

Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh!

No, I don’t mean the early morning quake on Teeside today.

I am referring to the speed bump in the road that was the passing of the European Union (Withdrawal Agreement) Bill yesterday. Boris has got his Brexit Bill through.

And good to know that they ignored all the amendments agreed in the House of Lords, including an imperative to negotiate the arrangements for uniting unaccompanied children with their families being replaced by a promise to make a statement to parliament about it – sometime, maybe, whenever.

Of all the petty, pernicious and puerile blather that has emanated from the Brexit camp over the years, I still await a clear, rational and above all empathetic reason why you would use children as any form of leverage in the upcoming process.

From everything that has gone before – all the lies, posturing and populist grandstanding – I had absolutely no confidence that if they achieved their goal, that somehow the rhetoric would revert to a more compassionate approach.

Mend fences, bridge divides – bullshit.

Ther overgrown, over-privileged and now over-powered egotists will now proceed with their games of ‘Let us see how far we can push before things go belly up’.

And the indications have been there for a long time. Negative statements regarding the judiciary and rule of law, the ‘sanctity’ of fixed term parliaments, will become the new reality.

The acceptance of fact and truth as a basis for public discussion and policy has long gone, and the structures that hold society as a supportive function are next on the list.

And, as in the US, for the moment the electorate seem content to follow a buffoon they are happy to acknowledge as a lier, misogynist and a coward. Or rather, the majority of a minority of the electorate.

I have never yearned for anarchy as much as I do now. There needs to be a flood of all the pent up anger and hurt of the dispossessed, the ignored, the disenfranchised.

Wash it away, clear the arena, and plant some positive, supportive and compassionate options.

But firstly, clear away the shite!

It’s not often that my mental meanderings have started with such an exciting statement. But it is true. The brightly coloured – that should have been a trigger – and very cheap – that should have been a trigger as well – ‘stick’ vacuum cleaner I bought 2½ years ago has decided to divide itself into more separate pieces than initially intended.

This is not getting better as a means of holding attention, is it?

I mention the vacuum cleaner – it was an unnecessarily bright purple by the way – because the mundane will always trip up the dramatic, the dull will distract from the near death disaster threats.

And that applies, even when all the elements are ‘dramatic’!

The world is in a permanent state of hell and handcarts, most of the ‘leaders’ seem determined to find a steep slope for the carts to stand precariously at the top of,  and the UK teeters on the brink of dismantling and disintegration and total despair.

So, let’s create the biggest storm in the hugest teacup about two people who want to look after themselves and their family in the face of the most offensive and unnecessary intrusion, antagonism, misogyny and racism.

Personally, I think it was a mistake to make a announcement in an interview. Especially before the court case has been decided. But that is their only mistake, and I can see why they did it.

What has struck me is how this ridiculous over-reaction is a continuum of the breakdown in how a society should function. A continuum that began with Margaret Thatcher’s ” There is no such thing as society”.

I am a republican, so I am not advocating the defence of royalty as head of state. What I am advocating is the defence of those forces that hold a fair society together.

Respect, understanding, empathy, compassion. Especially when 99.99% of those making such a raucous din will never be adversely affected, at all. Ever.

If I was a cynical soul, I would suspect that part of the hullabaloo was an orchestrated attempt to divert attention from the ‘actual’ dismantling of our rights within this society by the governing élite.

That is very real, and will adversely affect 99.99% of us.

But never mind that, let’s shout about a non-existent crisis.

And then I had to buy a new vacuum cleaner.

There is a reason – apart from expanding my knowledge base, or being amused, or being angered – that I listen to Radio 4 as much as I do. Wake up, radio on. Radio in every room. Sometimes more than one on at a time.

The reason is that the quiet is full of silent noise, very loud silent noise. And has been for years. This is also the reason that I have been discovered talking to myself – no radio in the woods.

However, there have been some non-radio moments lately when some clarity, self-awareness, even understanding, has emerged from the silent racket behind my eyes.

And I have started to understand why I, and others, do or have done what we do, or did. And all of my English teachers will hate me for that last sentence.

This ‘holiday period’, for the first time in a very long time, lit the Hanukkah candles. Not once, but every night – well almost. Christmas got in the way for a couple of days,but I caught up.

The Hanukkah cards I sent, especially to the Town Councillors, were intended to make a point – to some at least. Some of those sent to others also.

But the candles, that was for me. And also, because I am now in my home, my real home, for the first time in many years, it was also to welcome my mother in.

I remember standing in the shadow outside an open doorway, and watching my mother light candles on a Friday night. This was her own particular moment, her religion, her place in the world. I know I felt like I was intruding, and I hope she didn’t know that I was there, but it was also the most perfect, beautiful and peaceful moment I remember from my childhood.

And so the candles are an invitation, along with the Mezuzah by my front door, for her to join me in my home, and be at peace with me.

I have also realised something about my father. For much of my childhood, youth, actually till my thirties really, I didn’t know him. He was there in the background as I grew up, but never really had any impact or input.

When he and my mother separated, and divorced, even less so. It took the persuasion of my first wife to get me talking again, and then a gradual understanding and appreciation of who he was.

This was not always easy, as he was an intensely private person about personal things. But I do recall that he could be extremely sociable, and generous. And he always seemed to particularly enjoy the company of women. Never in a salacious way, but very definite.

Now i will never know for sure, because he is no longer here to ask, and he might not say even if he was, but I wonder if he feels the same as me.

i have always found the company of women to be more fulfilling, rewarding and enjoyable on so many levels. Partly I think because I never got a grip on the male interaction requirement to compete and boast.

But mainly because women are more interesting, and more honest about what matters. And they care about so much that isn’t themselves.

That may well be true of many men as well, but if it is, they definitely need to discover how to show it. Bravado is a pointless exercise, compassion is not.

So, I have decided that my father preferred the company of women because he enjoyed the company without the competition, and that helps make me missing him easier. And the Mezuzah by the door helps, because my mother is safe with me too.

That feels like a good start to a year.

Three days in, and the world is still here. Considering how hard it was to put a positive spin on the end of last year, I am looking on that as a win.

Now, if you were one for reading the signs, squeezing seaweed or throwing chicken bones, then the year has not started well.

Large swathes of Australia continue to burn, and look destined to be burning for a fair few months to come, whilst the prime minister – a strident supporter of the coal industry – has to be shamed back from holiday

Indonesia has been hit by devastating floods, with the heaviest rainfall since records began, with a cap[ital city sinking rapidly.

Donald Trump decided that the Middle East was a little too quiet, so authorised the execution of a leading Iranian military and political figure, a move obviously intended to retain calmness in the region.

And Turkey has decided it should help that peace process by signalling the iminent despatching of troops to Libya.

And with various levels of antagonistic statements emerging from North Korea, China, and just about every other ‘populist’ led country, there is one common element that emerges where human input is a catalyst.

The decisions, the statements, the pontification, obfuscation and downright crass stupidity comes from the top. And every single one of the ‘top’ people is male.

To at least 50% of the population, this will be no surprise. But to the remainder, it is time to grasp the simple concept of ‘other options’.

Aggression is not the only answer, especially to aggression. Extremism in response to extremism will inevitably, history shows us, breed extremism.

And yet the self-serving dick-swingers seem incapable of arriving at any other alternative.

There is a desperate need for radical change, in ‘democratic’ political structures, in the response to unacceptable actions, in the failure of ‘the market’ to solve and resolve blighted lives.

However, until the power to decide is moved from those with a vested interest in the status quo, the world will continue to burn, and drown, and mutually destroy itself to satisfy proxy bravado.

So, I have no predictions for this new year, or this new decade.

But I may have a solution. Give them 1 month to grow up, then castration.

No more dick-swinging, and maybe a melodious choir!

Any other suggestions?

I have tried, with some success till now, to avoid too much pontification on the year just past, and the actions – and inactions – that led to where we are now. And I will try not to add too many cries of angst, and anger, to what has already been said by worthier, and wordier, commentators.

What I have found worthy of note, however, is the realisation that the connections between us, the interlinked support lines that we hold on to, or throw to others, have expanded in number and strength.

There will always be negative as well as positive connections, and the mutually supportive links between any number of negative and regressive populists across the globe has cast large and disturbing shadows over the near and more distant future.

But there has also been an extraordinary connection of disparate people into a concentrated and concerted determination to improve the world, exemplified by a small spark ignited by a 16 year old in Sweden, that has created a blaze of activism, awareness and a desire to change.

On a national level, aided in no small part by a distorted, unrepresentative and undemocratic system, the worst of all possible outcomes from the most recent election has opened the door to self-serving power grabbing of the worst sort.

And yet, when an understandable reaction would be to retain and repeat the anger and  angst, the people’s response was to request reconciliation, and to organise support for those in most need.

The fact that this support is needed is a sad reflection on this country. The response to provide comfort and care is a sign of who we can be. And it expanded with such rapidity that it raises the hope for better times, when better people hold the reins.

Till then, the individuals will connect, and form strength in those links, and be who we should be.

On a personal level, I have witnessed over the last ten years the creation, retention, strengthening and expansion of an organic support net, whose growth has been based on mutual respect, understanding and the ability to take the hand that is offered.

Each time someone stumbled, or slumped, or swayed, there was a hand, an ear, an arm to lean on. A safe space to help clarity, an embrace to heal aches, a bad joke to provide perspective. But no judgement, just compassion. No criticism, just care.

And each internal link finds external connections that mirror and echo and expand the empathy that we need more than ever.

And each link brings a small glimmer of hope, magnified by ever increasing numbers.

There is hope, there must always be hope. Find it in and around you, and hold it tight, and share those connections.

Happy New Year!?!

As we begin the 8 days of Hannukah, and head towards that other minor festival, the name of which escapes me – but has something to do with reindeers and mince pies – I have a simple question for myself.

Why am I feeling so damned emotional? I mean, who cries almost all through the latest Star Wars film? Apart from me.

There will be some who know me well who maintain I have always been quick to the damp eye, and I cannot disagree. But it feels that I have become even more susceptible to the slightest tingle of emote lately.

The last few months have seen significant changes in my life, and more or less without exception, for the better.

And new connections, and re-connections, have added to the positive feelings that are flowing through me on a regular basis.

A new home, with the improved financial and security status it brings. Meeting an amazing young woman who exceeded her character build up. Watching an accomplished and inspirational woman achieve her target qualification, and open up the future.

Seeing two powerful, resourceful and determined women confront a diversity of challenges, crossing over the hurdles, and facing what follows. And another returning to the whole that she used to be.

And so many others who each embody the best of what life should be in who they are.

And a son who continues to inspire respect, and appreciation, and challenges the future.

And a four year old, who is the future, and seems sometimes to be there already!

And this should all add up to a feeling of joy, and happiness. And it does. And perhaps it is that which creates the excess of emotions.

And maybe it is the fear that the positivity is not deserved, or may fade away.

But, this New Year we need positivity more than ever, and so I will hang onto it tightly, and revel in everyone who adds a light, and a spark, and a bolt of lightning to my life.

And I will cry, because the inspiration I find in all those I hold dear is powerful, and requires an emotional response.

And my smile is just plain scary!!

I cannot remember an election, or referendum for that matter, where the thought of it, the slow release of results after 10.00 p.m., the final outcome: it raises that feeling in the pit of the stomach of hope lost.

Naturally, I hope that the result is a sharp turn away from the lemming – style dash for the cliff edge. And i know lemmings don’t actually do that, but the image still stands.

I silently implore enough people to realise that allowing the Tories to continue along their chosen path will lead to the disintegration of democracy, or at least what we claim democracy to be.

We are a long way from true democracy, but if the Tories are given free reign, then individual choice, freedom, security will become bargaining chips to be used across borders with similar self-obsessed, self-aggrandising sociopaths.

It gets harder to see what should be self-evident truth. Social media is easily distorted, print and broadcast media already is, and the misogynist buffoon gets away with it all.

The echoes of Trump supporters in total denial – or worse, acknowledgement and acceptance – is too stark.

And I tried for so long to not write off pro-leave voters. We were all lied to, they had been ignored for years, they wanted a chance to make a noise, have a voice. But there is a line. To continue to support the people who ignored you, who created your suffering, and who profited from it – it’s hard to retain respect.

To not listen to anything that may show you that you may have been wrong, that your argument isn’t with the Europeans who support your health service, your industries, your support services; or with the EU itself, which has defended so many of the rights you have now; to ignore everything else but the repeated meaningless phrases of those that will never suffer, that is pushing respect to breaking point.

Those that voted to leave from pure self interest, they are even harder to respect, especially if they do it again. Because their interests will implode as well. They are just as misled.

Self-inflicted harm rather than an admission of error is not a sensible, logical or sane approach to a decision that will cause untold damage to so many – except those persuading you to follow the folly.

I want to retain my humanity, and empathy, and generosity to those who I disagree with, but it is going to be hard, so hard.

In the meantime, that sick feeling persists, the arguments swirl endlessly round inside my head, but I am nor convinced enough people listen to them.

So, come Friday morning, the only certainty are those that I am certain of now, and that will keep me going.

And maybe we will all need to shout a bit louder from now on, and if feelings are hurt, then that may be the price to pay.

It is a strange phenomenon, but apparently the meaning of Peace, as a word, as a concept, depends entirely on which side of the political spectrum you favour.

Firstly however, we need to acknowledge that the claim built into the possession of nuclear weapons – that they have kept the peace since 1945 – is a total fantasy. War, death, destruction has been constant. And in so many instances has been proxy wars between the old adversaries.

New players on the world stage have also learnt from this, and have joined in the safety at home proxy approach. And, justifiably as far as their disregard for hypocrisy is concerned, our insistence on the non-proliferation of nuclear weapons is treated with contempt.

So, with that out of the way, it would appear that the retention of peace, from a right wing perspective, is to threaten, threaten, threaten, or incarcerate. And then threaten.

Jeremy Corbyn, one of the world’s many imperfect men, has been attacked continuously for talking to leading figures in a number of less than entirely savoury organisations. He has never, as far as I am aware, been accused of plotting with them to inflict harm on anyone. But he has talked to them.

And he has done it publicly, not hidden, not in secret. Because, strangely enough, he is aware of the fact that if you treat someone with respect, and have a discussion, then understanding can emerge. The removal of threats can produce a potential route forward. At the very least it can help prevent the slide back into violence.

And, with all the groups, and political factions that exist on the ‘wrong’ side of the western viewed divide between ‘right’ and ‘terror’, there is a root cause to their actions. The anger that drives people to participate in extreme actions arises from a disconnection from what they perceive as a place of safety.

And to resolve that feeling, you have a choice, threaten to reduce that safety even more, or talk, discuss, understand. Those talks may be hard, the content may be contorted and nuanced, but an understanding can be the first step to resolution.

But, as long as its another country’s population, chest beating bravado will always win with the world leaders we are blessed with today. Which means that, when the proxy wars spill over onto our own streets, the first response from the Tory ‘leader’ is to try and score cheap election points.

Until ‘leaders’ realise that the only solution to conflict is to stop the fighting and start the talking, to attempt to understand, to break the cycle, then the ripple effects of all the power posturing will continue.

Which gives them a campaign slogan, and a reason to persist. But the impact is felt by the innocent, and the dispossessed, and the disillusioned, and the disadvantaged.

And it also means that they continue to walk hand in hand with countries who treat their own people, and other nations, in ways we would find unacceptable, but ‘ignore’ because we can make a profit, or create an alliance, that keeps us in the gang with the big boys.

And it always seems to me that this time of year is the perfect example of the hypocrisy of the western powers – belligerent and bellicose pronouncements during the season of good will to all men.

Merry Humbug!