It's April. The last couple of days have been hovering around 10degrees celcius and the snow banks that last week were blocking the sun from my window have dripped and slithered down into pools of parking lot detritus. The window needs cleaning. The kitchen floor needs cleaning. My mind needs cleaning.

I want to tout and shill the following : www.skeptic.com. That's all. See, I was never allowed to ask questions in Religious Instruction class in the private priesty-school when I was a pubescent nipper. Questions are the breath of Life; I want to breathe.

I bought a new roasted chicken on Friday afternoon saying to myself that it'd make nice sandwiches for a few days. Well, it did and now there's only the carcass sitting on the plate on the counter beside the bread bin and it's only Sunday afternoon.... and I haven't smoked any tobacco of any kind in 72 days. As my niece used to say when she was a 5 year old " Amn't I good?"

I'm very conscious today of the misery of cycling rapidly (day to day, even within three hour periods) in mood. The result is a failure to communicate with ease and calm, restlessness, inability to relax, to read, to watch TV since everything looks even trashier than usual. Food is tasteless, lonliness is rampant and there's that benign 'fear' hovering at the back of my cortex... fear of nothing in particular, more a generalized anxiety... Depression is a gigantic pain in the ass....

My wife - Part I

My wife is a very fine wife. She brings tears to my eyes when she's upset and scared. She's beautiful and sexy and about 4 inches taller than me which means that I get to talk to her breasts when I have a crick in my neck. She makes people around her happy and she makes them jewellery from beads and stones and she loves playing with crystals and evoking their power. I still think that they make great ballast.
She is intelligent and works at being happy. She has bunions on her two feet that I'd like to smooth away with magic because they look sore all the time.
When she comes to Canada she's going to miss her family and her Afrikaans culture and that worries me a bit... I can't think of better times I've ever had at a restaurant table than those times I been tete-a-tete with her for hours and hours of talk...

Whining

I've got to lose 50 lbs (22.68 kgs) for my health (diabetes, arthritis...) and I will be giving up all the satisfying, crappy foods I love. My unconscious eating patterns have now become addiction-driven since I gave up (quit) ciggies on the 18th January this year. My taste buds met their Second Coming and sang out like the Schiller chorus from Beethoven's 9th. And what did they demand? Shrimp ($6 for 904 grams) poutine (greasy chips in gravy and melted curds - a Quebec specialty), pickled pork shins roasted and cold-sliced onto a wad of bread with Dijon, Diet (0 calories & fizzy) Lemonade and Cranberry and Grapefruit - only 28mgs of acesulfame-potassium per can) ... grilled 2 yr old Cheddar on wholegrain toast, roast chickens for sandwiches and then veggies once a week from the Chinese Buffet in town ($10). And Multi vitamins and B Complex.

Now I have to drop the bread and Mayo sandwiches and all the pizzas and crap and get back to buying veggies and salad materiel and boiled chicken and maybe a few eggs per week. One slice of multigrain bread per day and a bowl of some fibre-laden crap for breakfast.( No verb in that last sentence, see?, already I'm sickening myself...) More fruit by the chair for automatic-face-stuffing.... I like those Gala apples and I wish they'd import South African Granny Smiths into Canada which are sweeter than the ones from British Columbia...
I don't drink, I don't smoke, I don't do drugs and now I don't do food.

Where's the Glory?

The Enemy Within - The Willie Lynch Story

The Enemy Within - The Willie Lynch Story ( see Google pages): interesting article but much disputed as to veracity. Despite that, however, "Lynch"'s admonitions to the white slavers on keeping their black slaves in control rings true as a set of parameters for the way blacks are still treated today. Either way it's a wake-up call for the black community. ( See: "Animal" the movie....)

The last vestiges of superstition

I still remember the chills I got as a ten year old when a traveller woman cursed me for being mean with the cold boiled potatoes that I was instructed to hand out at the front door by dismissive Mother Llama. As she turned to go and was cursing me in a shower of foetid Guinness spray, I hastily reached into my blazer jacket for what was left of my Giftie bar and offered it to her. Just enough distraction was it to make her confound her step and have her fall arse first into the rhododendron bush and then mash it to bits trying to climb out... Mrs Llama came out to guard the door until the woman departed and declared afterwards to a mute dinner-eating family that in her opinion that "tinker was a gypsy and she with more rings on her fingers than Mr's O'Ryan in number 45...."

There are several lessons in the sociology of bigotry in that little drama. I had a youth full of such embeddings....

Nick Berg

I was dumb enough to conjure up the beheading 0f Nick Berg on annoy.com and I was apalled at the gross savagery of the act. This act of vileness has no basis in the Q'ran nor the unpoliced psychopathy of the street thugs who say they represent a front against Imperialism; these punks pour acid on the name of Islam in this act of purposeless bestiality. May Allah, bismillahi Rahman y Rahim, forgive you because there will be none here on Earth for you...

For Hermien

The cusp of home
The display head down
Warm and rich and inner down
Slippery oyster frills around
the twist now over the line
The post and
chequered flag signals home
in an ecstasy of welcome inderhof.

The tongue that kisses you and me
Moth-wica wusha
brush my unshaven cheek.

I rest there on the
tropic mound to feel
to steady-up, to smell
you here, to see and touch
your hara
Ab ovo synecdoche

Fenix Oxo

I

Mamachrist how is you?
Eye see man and woman
and still think I lion.
The fire come in fire
But you know I
Mamachrist
Fire not consume I.
But I rise I post haste
Depending on who and why
I in there and if she not
Intolerable with I and you.

Fenix come too
Out of that fire.
She haul him ashes
Anyway.

She spit on flame
And orate profit from
She lips. She side
To side I and up
And down, round
And round til I
Fire I. And then flame come again
In I but she burn I, Fenix, Mamachrist.

Sheets be clean and winding round I
And she.
She make him stomach bridge out
Fast like that and she fall I
Off she over I.

here is sum pottery what I wroteded

Seal me up in silken thighs
And murmur words
That rumble through the din
for just one hour.

I love the pillow planet rise
And No, I didn't smell
The cordite of your
Vaunted power.

Revelations 1

I will start my first blog post by stating that I am in love with my wife Hermien. I got lucky after a lifetime of drugs and booze and then, eventually, belatedly, cleaning up, I found this amazing woman and fell in love. I was 56.