cherokoffdotcom

By you I mean me, of course. And to be honest I am not entirely sure what the answer is. I know I have been, because I can remember the groan each morning when I get out of bed, the groan each time I stand, and the slumphing sigh when I lie back down at night. Aging bones, what a joy!

And I know that events have occurred, momentous, minor, joyous, vexatious. I have added people, lost people. I have said yes to options, I have decided against others.

I know I have been through deep thoughts, pointless and flighty nonsense, and it is all filed away somewhere for future reference or quite musing and amusement.

I have been places, seen places. I have eaten well and disappointingly, and drunk well and smugly never to embarrassing excess.

I have smiled and laughed. I have growled and shouted. I have cried. Sometimes in close sequence.

And the world has changed, for better and for worse. And my world has changed, for significantly better, and a little bit worse.

And I am losing my grip on grammatically correct English. But then the English are losing their grip on a whole lot more!

And there it is. I wondered where you had been. And there you are! The anger, the fury at the flagrant dishonesty and self-interest, at the short-sighted scapegoating, at the disconnected attack o the wrong target.

Around me, the bubble that is my impact world is a rosier place, a cheerier place, with more potential and a future.

But the bubble is permeable, and the rest of the world gets in, and with it the ever more extreme violations of basic humanity.

If this is where evolution has reached, then maybe its time something else replaced the human race, because there are larger and larger swathes of it that deserve their place at the top of the pecking order less and less.

And the vast majority of those swathes are male, and that just about says it all.

All you egocentric, ego-maniacal  buffoons, just stop. Or nature will stop you.

 

You start with eyes wide open, the whole vista in front of you. Horizon to zenith, east to west, taking it all in.

And so, so much to take in.

Wherever you look there are pompous, pretentious, prattling pseudo-leaders, gesticulating at an engineered foe, stirring sound bites into nationalism and hatred of ‘the other’.

Whatever generates the spotlight moment, whatever the lie, half-truth, distortion, just as long as they are at the front of the public awareness.

And the memory is short, or uncaring, and the shoulders shrug at regular and repeated outrages against honesty, truth, fairness, justice, everything that makes us humanitarians.

So you narrow the focus, down to just our shores, but the picture gets no better.

The xenophobia is rife, the separation between groups, and from the truth, widens and deepens, and personal agenda rules over the needs of the vast majority.

There is no-one left to raise a calming hand and call for a pause, a breath, a moment of reflection. The rush is on to win the race, any race, as long as the instigators of chaos win.

And so I narrow my focus even further, and look at those around me, in the small circle that holds those I care about.

And, at last, I can see what is missing from the wide vistas.

I see astonishing people doing astonishing things. Adjusting their bases to include wider geographical options; rationalising a short-term separation against the long-term advantages it will bring; absorbing the awesome of far-flung places and returning the same – thankfully – but enriched; terrifying with an astute intelligence at less than 3; and emerging from consecutive and concurrent trials, and recovering and reinventing and reinventing a world that will work for them – and for those that occupy or enter the circle.

There are so many more, each with a light, and each as astonishing as the others.

And I retain my focus there, because that is where reality is, and where the resolutions will emerge.

In time.

Naiveté alert.

Watching the comings and goings of the last few months, the seemingly endless country dancing patterns of negotiation, accusation, pacification, appeasement, negotiation that is the standard fayre of international relations, I wonder whether we will ever get to a situation when enough is enough.

No country is perfect. They all have shadows on their histories. And present generations shouldn’t be held accountable for the atrocities of their forebears.

But, when it comes to current behaviour, present crimes against humanity, accepted morality, common decency, where is the line drawn?

The UK at the moment is in a tailspin, trying to grab any half-extended hand of friendship to save us from the free-fall of Brexit. And that includes potential trade deals with countries with less than glowing records of good behaviour.

So, if a country acts in an immoral way, do you disconnect as a statement of non-acceptance? Or do you stay linked, in the hope that relational osmosis will somehow bring them to the light.

I suppose the latter has happened in the past, but do you put a time limit on it? or do we separate morality from trade?

No country is inherently immoral, even if their leaders may be. So, do we punish the whole to attempt to change the few?

These are not new questions, and they still do not easy answers. The collapse of apartheid in South Africa was helped by international boycotts. Russia, or Putin, at the moment, is getting stronger from the same approach. And international inconsistency.

We supply the means of population destruction to Saudi Arabia, reeking havoc in Yemen. We need the money as a country, but at the price of thousands of lives destroyed or damaged forever. And the support of an extremely unequal society.

Israel has disenfranchised a large section of its population, but nothing is said. And Jaffa oranges are everywhere.

Trump plays fast and loose with structures that have maintained stability and mutual respect for years, and we chase the dollar and ignore the rest. After all, what is a few hundred dead students, African-Americans. And the steady removal of hard-won rights any rational person would take as the minimum.

I am more than aware that we do not live in a binary world, but when will we be able to pass the next generation a world without having to wipe the blood from our hands first?

As someone who has the radio on when I wake in the morning, and, in one way or another, has news media as a background buzz throughout the day, this may seem like a drastic move, but bear with me.

Let us review a few of the catastrophic errors we, as a country, have made recently.

The EU Referendum. Instigated by the Tories, and a panicking Cameron, because his party was being split apart by UKIP. And what turned UKIP from the lunatic fringe to centre stage? The news media.

And once the decision had been made – one that was and is non-binding by the way, just saying – who do we have leading the charge?

Boris Johnson, a calculating, power-hungry misogynist, made stronger because of his ability to present the harmless clown persona thanks to blanket coverage.

Jacob Rees Mogg, an even more calculating, anti-just-about-any-personal-freedom-unless-you-are-very-rich throwback to pre-Victorian divisions; powered by an easy identification requirement in the media.

And the rest of the motley crew, all sketched quickly because the news cannot stand still for too long to examine anything in detail. And even when it does get the occasional morsel to chew over, the temptation to move to the new is too strong.

And so all the misleading, misguiding, misinformation; oh bollocks, all the lying disappears from the current discourse, to be replaced by the next photo-op, or obviously planned manoeuver to achieve the publicity high ground.

No content, no depth, just attention, and the power that goes with it.

Meanwhile, the reality get subsumed by the plots and power grabs, and the rest of us will suffer.

And the UK is not alone. Across the ocean, the US electorate, a minority of them but why should maths get in the way of a despot, fell for the biggest media con of all.

And each day, screen time is the most valuable commodity. Not truth. Just time. And the fact that Trump is still there, and Johnson, and Rees Mogg, still get their time on the stage proves that truth is no longer the priority.

So, turn it all off. Take away their air. They are only doing it to be at the front.

So, cut the lights, stop the recording, and their power disappears.

And in the silence perhaps some compassion, some reality can emerge.

 

Aren’t principles wonderful things?

They are, we are told, what forms the bedrock of the societal structures we hold dear. They are what we base our assertions of rightness on, in the face of everything that is unfair, unequal, unacceptable to our evolved, advanced and open-hearted democratic souls.

But these principles were not there, fully formed, from day one – whenever that was. They have developed over many, many years. Through much pain, anger, hate, death and destruction.

But, each time that a section of humanity is plunged into the depths of suffering by another, when the dust settles we hope that the principles that emerge will move us forward. Preserve life rather than destroy. Prevent the repetition of past iniquities.

And that should be one of our guiding principles. That we learn from history. That we see what led to the wrongs, and prevent their return.

And, as has been proved since history began – whenever that was – we singularly, and in some instances spectacularly, fail to do so.

And not always from a want of trying. So many people have tried so hard to demonstrate that the constant repetition of the same mistakes has only one result. Repetition.

And some repetitions could not be more timely in their crass stupidity.

The Israeli government has just put into law that only Jews have the right to self-determination in Israel. And, as a secondary step, they have downgraded Arabic to a ‘special status’ level.

I find it almost impossible to believe that those in power in Israel, who have pushed this through against significant opposition, cannot see the hypocritical lunacy that this is. In the country that was established as a direct result of the disenfranchising of a religion, the process is being repeated.

And done in the name of not only those in Israel, but every Jew throughout the world. In my name you have scarred me with the sign of the despot.

For anyone to claim that this move will do anything but antagonise and exacerbate is, at the very best, and absurd fool.

But, when an American buffoon gives further legitimacy to an already extremist government, what other outcome could there be.

And, although history screams NO, the arrogance of those in power grows beyond understanding.

If there was ever a moment to clarify the difference between anti-Semitism and anti-Israeli government, that moment is now.

I am angry. And sad, and heart-broken. And very, very scared for what will follow.

Those countries who claim their foundations on principles of fairness, justice and equality must stand up now and declare that the line has been crossed. Killing demonstrators at a fence hasn’t accomplished that yet. Maybe this will.

Or the next line to be crossed will be the borders of Israel. And arrogant stupidity will look to finish what was started in the 1930’s.

Some drop a pebble a pond, and the ripples move outward, but only as far as the pond’s edge. And then they are gone.

Some drop a pebble in the sea, and the ripples move outward, and they can move further,  but they must compete with all the waves, and so will lose their energy before they reach an edge. And then they are gone.

Once in a while, few and far between, there comes someone who drops a pebble with a different force behind it.

It falls into the ocean, and the ripples move outwards, and they are met with cross-waves, and they may even disappear for a time, but they are there, and they emerge, and carry on.

And the ripples reach many shores. And are felt by many. And seen by many. And they rebound from each shore and continue their journeys. And touch more shores, and more souls.

And the ripples meet each other, and merge, and grow stronger, and, under or over, surpass the waves that may try to slow and diminish them.

And that few and far between pebble, although dropped once, continues to send out more ripples, to touch those ripples from before, and those shores from before, and new shores, and old souls, and new souls.

And they all feel the different force.

And they drop their own pebbles.

That is a statement that I never thought I would write – or even say. Ever.

But look at the rest of it. Look at the egocentric, vacuous, dishonest, uncaring bollocks that is the output of our esteemed leaders.

Trump seems convinced that, with enough bluster and bluff he can get away with just about anything. And, as the  consistent lying, and even more consistent lack of repercussions seems to prove, he may be right. Never mind history. Never mind the lives of millions of people. He is on TV, all else is just blue-screen fill-in.

Closer to home, or what is left of it, we have Boris and the buffoons playing poker with the country’s future. With half the pack missing, all the good cards already gone, and no idea of the rules. But never mind history. Never mind why we have the EU. Never mind the lives of millions of people. You have the headlines. You have centre stage. All else is just background noise.

How dare you, any of you, place your personal arrogance and ambition ahead of what is actually best for this country, or any country, or the world.

The past two years has seen the unfolding of a feeble attempt by the Tories to shore up their party. That worked well.

The past year has seen Trump trying to dismantle the fundamentals of democracy and accountability in the name of ‘the forgotten people’. That is, unfortunately, working a little too well.

And in between, and underneath, the people. Those without the voice, or the money, or the connections, or the influence. And they suffer, and they will continue to suffer, because our esteemed leaders don’t give a rat’s arse.

Because, no matter what the outcome, and how much shite clogs the fan, they will be comfy and cosy and not to held accountable. Because the shit-storm will be the EU’s fault, or NATO’s fault, or our fault.

Well, the last one is true, for some of us. Because some of us put them there. And there were plenty of warnings.

So, the football.

A decent, honourable man leading a group, a team, not a bunch of egos. And if they go no further they have proved that there is another way to approach the future.

So, I am grateful to the England squad, for being who they are.

And joining those who have decided that enough is enough, and raised their voices above the hum. It may not make a difference. It may not last.

But lights in the darkness are always welcome.

Sorry. if you were hoping for an insight into the more intimate recesses of my nocturnal activities, you will be severely disappointed. Those are only available in the Remainders bins in not very good book shops.

No. This is a sort of sequel to the previous mind-dump, from the advantage of a view from a place of light and shade, tones and incremental shadow. Rather than the dark hole that emerged before.

Oddly enough, the silent shouting is still there, but for the most part it’s a slightly irritating thrum somewhere behind me. Crowd control by the application of my rear view.

But what I have now are, I think, the standard variegations of light and shade that make up ‘normal’ life.

And there are many shades. It may seem odd to state something that will be obvious to you, but when I emerged, again, from the singular tone of the last slump, it is always a slight surprise, and a joy, to realise there is, still, variation.

This will always be helped by the people who are closest to me, physically and spiritually. The variations within them start the spread of the rainbow, and begin the re-decoration of the world.

And if they have moments of dark, or anger, or calm, or wisdom – very interesting colour that one –  these add shades and tones.

And the sky is still there – and strangely still blue and bright – and the trees, and the small interlinked elements that bind nature to the earth, or are supported by it.

And the outside world is back in focus, with every mixed blessing that brings. And life, and time, continues. There is only one direction for that at least.

And I absorb, and acknowledge, and add to the memories, and enjoy the simplicity of loving and being loved.

And the mono-shade of before is put back where it belongs.

But I am also vigilant, and aware. And will keep watch for the next one. And this time I will be more prepared. Or at least I will try to be.

And it will come. And it will go. And the variations will return. And not just grey. There is a rainbow out there!

That was – is – a strange one. This week has proved at least one thing to me, that I should pay attention.

I have had, over the last few years, been blessed with a closeness with an exceptional woman. And because I care, when she has tough stuff, I feel the echoes.  And when she has good stuff, I revel in those ripples too.

So things have been a bit rollercoaster, but she was still there on Wednesday to provide a huge moral prop when my high ground was shat on from a great height.

And today, after an extended demonstration of strength, determination, wit, intelligence and all round wonderfulness, things seem to be coming up with a gentle glow.

And all the echoes and ripples have washed over me, and this should be, and is an up.

So where did that hole come from?

Where there should have been happiness – well there was – but behind it was an endless silent shout. No words, just an urgent silence that grew louder.

And trying to work through the afternoon, the wall of silence rose, and there seemed no-where to go.

The hay fever made the tears almost acceptable, although not driving through a drizzle inside my glasses. And to bed, to try and shut the deafening silence out.

Long time since I cried myself to sleep. But hey, whatever works.

After a couple of hours, into the shower, clear the face, quieten the shouts, and relax the shoulders.

The hole is only a foot or so deep now, and shrinking.

But where did it come from?

The truth. I think it is always there. As it is for many.

For much of the time life, other lives, cover it over, or stop you slipping into it. But blink and its there again. Up front and up loud.

And this is not a cry for sympathy. Although maybe a sorry for being absent for an hour or three.

This is to say that there are millions who suffer, and survive. And some that don’t.

And they should be seen. And acknowledged. And when people say things are tough and they are not sure why, then that’s okay.

Tomorrow will be fine, or fine enough. And I love people, which is always the best therapy.

I have spent a significant part of my life honing my misery skills. I cam look, and act, and sound, like the most cantankerous whinger this side of …. anywhere.

And certainly, the past months have certainly helped in fine-tuning the skill set.

With Trump redefining international buffoonery to a life threatening level on the global stage, and demonstrating a disregard for the most basic of humanitarian concerns in a way that put ‘callous’ in the shade.

With both sides of the Brexit divide behaving like there is not a reality outside their ‘playground’, with the only sane-ish voice coming from – I am going to say it – a Tory.

With the stubbornness of wildly contorted tribal grudges being used by external powers to play their proxy death games.

And the usual round-up of outdated but stubborn yearnings for yesteryear.

It all gets so easy to be miserable, and angry, and so it goes.

A glimmer in Ireland shaved some of the grump, but there is still plenty to feed the beast.

But I am struggling to retain the mood. To remain at the bottom of the pit.

And the reason  is down to an individual who defies every cliff she stands at the bottom of, or pauses half way up for a breather. She keeps on climbing.

Faced with ongoing, new, established, unexpected, and definitely unwarranted challenges, she continues to confound my negativity.

In the last week, and the last two days, she has forced me to smile, and laugh, and cry, and again be in awe of her strength.

You would think, as a friend, she would appreciate the effort that goes into being as miserable as I can be from time to time.

But no. No conscience at all.

And so I am forced to smile. And find nuggets of happiness in a world of cheating alchemists.

Life can be tough!!