On the brink ?

Well now, I should be wittering on about the swelling mangoes, sweaty daturas and dangling bananas - or what. But ... Last week one of the dreams of my naive and impetuous youth almost came true. The great illusory edifice of finance and financial institutions was crumbling. The world's media were awash with photos of shocked and sobbing hedge-fund managers, sharedealers and their greedy and esoteric ilk. Today the media is awash, the tears are of joy as the stock markets rally around the world.

The great spectacle nearly exploded in our faces but it has been patched, reinflated and stuck back on its pedestal for the rest of us dumb jerks to adore.

Is it not perverse that we can spend billions to prop up an illusion - just as the vatican has been doing for the past 2000 years - but nothing to create better lives in a better world.

Could I do better ?

Well I know where I would prefer to 'inject' billions. Do you?

Half a bee ...

Half a bee according to the pythonesque school of thought, must, ipso facto, half not be. Therefore, a photo of a bee, being a two dimensional object, is not only a shadow of the reality of itself, which is in turn the shadow of a reality of an ideal, but it is half of what is had been. There is no behind of the photo and the bee lacks a dimension. I am not lacking in commas, but am lacking in a certain grounding of being which leads me to sympathise with the missing half a bee ...


A thorny problem if ever there was.


The last rays of summer sun have descended on the mountain and the butterfly yearns for immortality. It resembles more a well read book; spine broken and pages dog-eared. Yet, I have taken flight with this pathetic image and once more embarked on a migratory journey.

More bollicks tomorrow!

Noise and progress

Of course there is nothing in particular that I want to say. The tractors are out "tidying" up the hedgerows - but then I ranted about that last year.

98% of people believe in progress, the rest of us think it is just noise; and loud noise at that.


Blues is not noise, nor progress. It is sublime ...

Oh! If only I were more zen like ...

Money, money, monet, in a rich man's world

No, this isn't a Monet it is a reflection of the Loire. If it were a Monet I wouldn't be spending my time blathering on and drooling into my keyboard. I haven't written for a while for I have been contmplating my navel in the search for lost petroleum resources. They aren't really lost at all and we are all being stung by an economic system that relies on phantom crisis to provoke misery in the masses and to guild the fat butts of the few.

In France, which brings us back to Monet, things are not a lot different. Here the State adds to the misery by persecuting the masses whenever the coffers are a trifle low. If you are going to get fined here the chances are increased tenfold during a recession. Oh, sorry, it is not a recession it is just the evil manpulation of the markets by the spawn of Satan.


That should cheer you up. Besides, nobody believes in God, or Satan anymore. Oddly enough they still believe in capitalist economics. A science so abstract as to make the virgin birth seem plausible. There are no global shortages accept that of comon sense. The same common sense that tells me that Sarkozy is bringing back platforms, Obama is not black and McCain is a chip.


This brief post should confirm your suspicions that this blog is dull, I am a dullard and what goes around comes around. My horoscope for tomorrow states that I am to have some prophetic dreams, so this may be the last dull yet rational drivel for a long while...

Back to front and back to work ...

Meanwhile, back in the backwaters of Le Puy City. Spring is sort of on its way. Today is cold, yesterday was hot. This should be summer given the lack of rain but who is complaining?

Sunsetting beneath a stormy sky lends beauty and contrast to an end of winter scene, but do we ever look behind the scene. Images are flat two dimensional objects limited in space, and for that matter time. We supply the context and the window dressing. This should apply to anything whether it is a photo, a news item or merely an itch.

At last and forty years on the BBC has broadcast the My Lai tapes. It has taken forty years for us all collectively to stop and turn around, to look behind us not at another version of reality, but at the light that creates the shadows.

So, next time you care to glance at an image take a moment to ask what is behind it. I did ...


Back in the garden and the daffs are out, the birds are getting up early and the sap is rising. Just time to go for a walk in the heights ...

Between a rock and a wet place ...

The rock :


The wet place :

As tropical storms Fame and Gula fade out to the south one has time to reflect...

Upon what I have no idea whatsoever.

The beach is back.

...