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And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths, Win us with honest trifles, to betray ’s In deepest consequence.                                                 Banquo. Act 1 Scene 3. Macbeth Stripped of  privacy. Stripped of  anonymity.  Led into their pre-meditated trap A stabbed identity Forced to hear their words.. of  Language. Logic. Truth. Do you need any financial help? What about your employment ? What about the future? What about our children?  They need their parents to provide  The best in life for them. Scholarships to Oxbridge Because we can! We want you to get away from us!  Away from our perfect destiny  Forced to hear her words  Their Privacy. Protection. Power  Privileged and unrivaled  of the most elite importance.  Th...

A private life. A public life. The unfinished Greek tragedy; hubris nemesis catharsis Enter stage left: The Believers, The Fools, The Hypocrites, The Sycophants Enter stage right: His Majesty, the King. The Protector, to royal fanfare. The celebrated performance speech of His Majesty, the annual address to banish the naysayers. "I am delighted and most proud to protect and defend our great realm. This sceptred isle. To protect you all, all my most dearest and loyal flock" An audience member arose, weak and timidly she spoke. Her voice trembled with fear. "Every person's unrivalled privacy protected ? For My most private Data exchanged had been deleted (as believed and trusted), but instead it was taken (purposely), encrypted (allegedly), stored (without my consent) and discovered (to my total detriment) and shared by and with others. All without my control or my consent. and then My Identity, of once great self worth, and dignity, revealed, given a...

By plucking her petals, you do not gather the beauty of the flower. ”  ―  Rabindranath Tagore ,  Stray Birds "They will watch you like a hawk"  I had warned, in a vain attempt to protect my Privacy, but would be ignored. My privacy was nothing. My identity was nothing. Cast out to devour. To crucify. Here where no Jesus hears and saves the wretched or puts things right. No deliverance from  salvation. No righteous path  to enlightenment. Only the  savage  desecration of the free mind dominates. The violated inner sanctum of human privacy.  Stripped of  privacy.  Anonymity laid  naked  for all to see. An Identity stabbed.  Here the perpetual cycle of openness of  raw hypocrisy and cold  fear holds dominion now. Proud Honorary fellowships to the great architects of our demise and the cruel consequences to suffer alone. "They want to help you" cries the voice. The tortured False words will ring out...

"Those aren't your memories. They're somebody else's" Blade Runner. 1982. The father held his young son's hand tightly, very tightly, as the train approached the opposite platform at Aldermaston station. Together they watched as the train finally ground to a halt. The father picked up his son, smiled at him and  motioned to him to wave at the passengers on the train opposite. The son, half perplexed, waved at the strangers on the train.  No one waved back. The father and son looked up and down all carriages of the train for a few minutes, waving, hoping.  No one waved back.  The son stopped waving. The father spotted a stranger in the last carriage. The stranger was waving. The father  pointed animatedly to the stranger. Motioning his son to look. His son looked up at the stranger. He did not know the stranger who had  waved back and smiled at him. He outstretched his small hand waved and smiled at the stranger.   The train pulled slowly away fr...

" We choose to go to the moon. We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard" - JF Kennedy President of America   I did not want to go there. But the new bus route home would take me there. Back there. Back through the streets I had once known so well. The gardens I had once run past in the darkness of the early mornings or the sunrises I had once been so privileged to witness. Back there. "I can drop you off at the top of the road" said the Bus driver.  He was a kind man. I could tell he was.  Perhaps he sensed my deep fear. "Thank you so much. It's such a hot day. Too hot for walking" I replied back  Too hot for running. I would never run again. I walked quickly. The sun beating down on my head of long black hair which absorbed  the incinerating heat of the day. I passed the place where I had once Fallen. Fallen into their trap. They had ...

"Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him! This was the most unkindest cut of all”  ―  William Shakespeare You trust me, I trust you. But tomorrow,  you will lead me With outstretched hand To those I have feared. Entrap, Force me, purposely To hear words. Their words! That will mortify, crucify and destroy All planned to perfection. Words that will forever reverberate They want to help you Privacy, Protection, Paranoia "Do you need any financial help?" "What about your career?" "What about the future?" "He is the love of my life!" Language. Logic. Truth. Brutal Actions  Pre-meditated, by choice which forever traumatize and torture. Oh Blessed are the Powerful Invincible are the Proud Fearless are the Privileged. For they shall never know The true identity of Fear The screams of the dead souls. Lord graciously Protect me. From the false guardians of our Privacy "Stab the body and it heals, but injure ...

“Your memory is a monster; you forget—it doesn't. It simply files things away. It keeps things for you, or hides things from you—and summons them to your recall with will of its own. You think you have a memory; but it has you!”  ―  John Irving ,  A Prayer for Owen Meany Spring has arrived. Usually a time of great joy, as we emerge out of a cold bleak winter. Look out across the shoreline across at a distant forest to a new beginning, a new chapter. But that didn't happen this year. I am reminded of the colour yellow, the sunflowers that Van Gogh painted for his friend Paul Gaugins visit.  Yellow - A colour of hope. But the visit went terribly wrong. Such an event would have a profound effect on Van Goghs life and work. Today we marvel and rejoice at  Van Gogh's great legacy. Van Gogh at the time at that precise moment never felt that way. A story of two opposite halves.  A world of total Joy. A world of total Sadness. Every so often in life we p...

"Glory is Fleeting. Obscurity is forever" - Napoleon  I watched the solar eclipse on Friday. I was lucky I suppose. Did I feel honoured or even special to have witnessed this spectacular event? For a moment. No not really.  But it was tinged heavily with sadness. Why sad ? because it was fleeting. For 5 minutes I had escaped -  mind, soul and spirit running free from harm and violation. I wished it had lasted. But that would be madness. It couldn't possibly last! Everything must be fleeting. We live in a 24 hour disposable society. Nothing is built to last forever now. Nothing private. Nothing sacrosanct. We may use anything or anyone we choose. Take the best pieces and dispose, shattering into a million useless pieces. Rip out the zest of life and function, leave the bitterness to aid  corrosion and self destruction.  Just like the pile of  used, unwanted broken microwave ovens I added to at the recycling centre over the weekend. No sanctuary of th...

"As I went down in the river to pray Studying about that good ol' way And who shall wear the robe and crown? Good Lord show me the way"                                   - Alison Krauss Yes. Exactly who are you? That's my question to you. Yes you. No not him, her or them. I am talking to you and only you. So its election time here in the UK. We have all manner of politicians and their elitist cronies now competing for my time. I will often attend all manner of conferences of the non political variety. Speak with all manner of people. Civil servants, advisors, and  wanabes.  Before me they sell, sell their bullet points, appeal to my inner soul.  But where is the authenticity, the integrity, and self appointed authority  by which they speak, from...

Yes those were our instructions. We heard them loud and clear. Nobody in carriage D of the 07.43 London bound train from Norwich was to utter a word about it. All of us had silently sworn ourselves to the secrecy. " Its just between me and you Pippa , do you understand ?" spoke the women sat across the isle from me into her mobile. Pippa must have been in absolute agreement for her reply was prompt "That's perfect, really perfect! Not a word now Pippa" The revealing pre-cursor conversation with Pippa had interestingly started just before we had approached Manningtree in Essex. A picturesque part of my journey to London; often I look up from my laptop and out onto the estuary. My eyes follow the inlet of the meandering River Stour, from the deep mudflat tributary swirls, out to the great expanse of the North Sea, as far as the eye can see. Here I always breathe in a calming breath, before the mad day mayhem takes its hold. But on this particul...

"Fear is only as deep as the mind allows"  - Japanese Proverb Had we lived many thousands of years ago, as cavemen and women walking the earth, our fears would have almost certainly been intrinsically linked to our survival. The instinctive "Fight or Flight" response would have automatically kicked  in when confronted  by any external force that did us harm, that threatened our very existence to propagate,  procreate and survive. Of course, nowadays there are no longer dinosaurs, lions, bears and tigers (oh my!) roaming free to frighten the living daylights out of us or threaten us. Instead our modern day fears manifest themselves in other forms: Fear of failure. Fear of rejection.  Fear of nonacceptance. The so called "mind fears". Do these mind fears hold us back? Stop us from achieving our full potential? From going it alone?  Is it all too easy to stay firmly routed in the ...