Watching and Being Watched.

I was standing outside Sainsbury’s today, idly observing the flotsam drifting past on the way to the store. I saw a young couple, and the question presented itself as it has been doing since I was a teenager: what is a woman like that doing with a man like him? I’m quite good at understanding women, but their choice of partners has always been a mystery to me.

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But then a young woman of around twenty walked past – tall, slim, and a natural blonde. Natural blondes are relatively rare in the UK, and so I wondered whether she was a Nordic or even a Pleiadian. I’ve been taking an interest in extra-terrestrials lately, you see, and am beginning to learn a bit about the different species. These include the Pleiadians, the Greys, the Tall Whites, the Reptilians, and the Nordics (who I gather are thought to be descendants of earlier Pleiadians if my memory serves me right.)

According to those in the know, these extra-terrestrials have been living on earth since before modern homo sapiens colonised it. Some stay hidden, while others move freely among us using various disguises to remain hidden in plain sight. This doesn’t, however, apply to the Nordics who look so like the people of the Nordic countries that we can’t tell them apart. It’s why they’re called the Nordics.

So that was interesting, especially when it occurred to me that if these ETs have been around for as long as that, maybe they could make a case for calling us the aliens.

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Earlier today I was in a charity shop perusing the merchandise when I noticed a woman nearby, also perusing the merchandise, accompanied by a baby in a buggy who stared and stared and stared at me. It was a bit freaky being stared at by a baby. We don’t know what they’re thinking, do we? We don’t know to what extent they’re capable of rational, or even judgemental, thought. They might even be highly psychic at that age and be reading our thoughts, or watching a picture reel of our lives to date so they know all about us.

 

I tried a tentative wave but received no response. Freakier still.

Times and Places.

I read today of Trump’s ongoing attempt to militarise American society in furtherance of his personal agendas. It’s the turn of Portland, OR this time, and as usual is accompanied by the most hilarious tirade of patently absurd and transparent rhetoric from the would-be dictator and his entourage of simpering minions. I wonder whether anybody has yet warned Trump to beware the Ides of March. 

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A woman I encountered in the lane this morning told me that I shouldn’t be concerned about what is happening around the world because we live in a comfortable corner of the English countryside and the world’s troubles needn’t concern us. No world view there, then. I wonder whether she knows where Portland, OR is, and whether she realises that the state of American politics has tentacles capable of reaching even the most unlikely places around the globe.

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On a parochial and much friendlier note, I gather those in control of our little corner of England have decided to include a splashpool in Ashbourne town centre as part of the refurbishment work. (I assume a splashpool is what we called a paddling pool back in the day when life was simpler – a shallow water amenity where children can paddle and splash each other with much glee in warm summer weather.) The work is due to be finished in November. Good timing, eh?

Life and Death in Ashbourne.

The local council (or it might be the county council or possibly the Highways Agency) are being creative at the moment with the layout of roads and pavements in Ashbourne. Ever since March (I think) there has been a plethora of heavy plastic barriers re-directing both pedestrian and vehicular traffic in furtherance of street refurbishment work. It changes nearly every week and resembles Hampton Court maze, and is due to carry on until November. It keeps the mind occupied because nearly every week it’s necessary to find a new way to get from A to B. I suppose it’s good for those who like to have their mind occupied. Mine’s dangerously overflowing as it is.

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I was in a charity shop today and an attractive young blonde woman kept shooting meaningful glances in my direction. Since I could think of no credible reason why she would do that, I chose to presume it was because she was not wearing a bra and had very little fabric covering the essentials. I only glanced once, you see (and very briefly, honest) but maybe it was enough for her to express the slightest hint of triumphalism in her Gen Z eyes. Maybe boomers are fair game for zoomers now that there’s a prevailing sense that the world doesn’t have much longer to survive in its present form.

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The sad but interesting sight was that of a dead hen pheasant lying on a pavement adjacent to a piece of road which is now open to traffic. ‘Maybe she didn’t know that the road now carries traffic and got hit by a car,’ you might suggest. Well, she was unmarked but definitely dead, so she probably had been hit by a vehicle. But there’s still a mystery. I’ve been shopping in Ashbourne for twenty three years and I’ve never seen a pheasant there before. Towns don’t have pheasants. They have pigeons, sparrows, and a few ducks on the river. Pheasants are birds of the woods and fields because their very existence is largely dependant on serving the recreational needs of country gentlemen and ladies who like to shoot things. Maybe that’s precisely what this little lady was trying to escape, only to get despatched by a speeding Volvo instead. Life can be like that.

Dispirited and Disappointed.

The Autumnal equinox passed at 6.19pm this evening, which means that for the next six months we will have less daylight than we had today. I find that dispiriting, and yet still I wouldn’t want to live in Florida.

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I watched a video on YouTube last night – just for fun you understand – in which a nice young lady sought to encourage in me the belief that I’m not a normal human being at all, but a Pleiadian star seed. They’re really nice people, you know, the Pleiadians, full of love and light and taking human incarnation solely to help us raise our consciousness.

The problem is that the Pleiades form a small constellation up and to the right of Orion, and Orion’s belt points the way. When I was in the habit of taking night walks some years ago, it was Orion which most fascinated me and at which I spent most time staring. And yet I never looked up and to the right. You’d think I would, wouldn’t you, if my home planet was a mere flick of the eyes away. Besides, Pleiadians are supposed to be tall and blond, which I’m not, so I didn’t take it too seriously.

The Question of Hate and Criminality.

I had an email this morning from Avaaz, the campaigning organisation, asking me to sign a petition. It concerned an incident in Australia recently when a bunch of white men went to an aboriginal sacred area and beat local tribes people – including women – with iron bars while shouting ‘white power.’

Some of the perpetrators have, apparently, been identified and charged with assault, but Avaaz say this isn’t enough. They say that it should be treated as a hate crime, the implication being that a crime driven by hate carries – or at least permits – a stronger punishment than the same crime committed without such motivation. And so I considered the rationale of such a position.

Hate is an emotional feature residing in the mind, and I have to consider the logic of criminalising a mental faculty. It seems absurd to do so because we are surely all free to hate just as we are free to love, daydream, become excited, or whatever. Hate is, I concede, a negative emotion, but it’s still firmly settled in the human consciousness and is never likely to go away. To criminalise an action makes sense because actions have physical consequences, but to augment the action by reference to the motivation makes the motivation itself a crime, and that surely brings us into the area of thought policing.

There are politicians on this planet who I hate (even though the spiritual gurus tell me I shouldn’t), but as long as I commit no action such as hitting Mr Ben-Gvir with an iron bar, I have committed no crime. And it seems ironic that the Avaaz worker who wrote the email probably hates the yobs who committed that horrible crime, and probably also hates the concept of thought police.

An Old Trick.

I was reading today about the laws being enacted in California in response to Trump’s anti-immigration tactics. Foremost was the banning of law enforcement personnel and I.C.E. officials from wearing face masks – which they do, presumably, to hide their identity.

Remember the days of the old westerns when it was the bad guys who wore handkerchiefs over their faces? This isn’t making America great again; this is making American culture increasingly sinister. Surely there are enough intelligent Americans to see where this is taking them.

When I said in a post a long time ago that Trump might lead the way to a second American civil war, it was a tongue-in-cheek remark. Now I’m not so sure. And maybe Trump knows it, too. Maybe that’s why he’s pre-empting the situation by militarising the cities.

Over on this side of the pond, Starmer and his so-called Labour Party are now planning to make the carrying of identity cards obligatory for everybody. He says it will make life easier and safer.

Well of course he does. That’s what they always say when there’s a perceived need to make the populace acquiescent. True dictators only have to say the word to have their orders obeyed without question, but dear old Blighty still likes to think of itself as a free country. And so, if the government wants to erode liberties and send the sheep securely into the pen, it helps to persuade people that it’s for their benefit.

Fallen Seeds and Fake Stats.

One of the things which bother me at this time of year is the sight of hundreds of acorns lying idle and forlorn across the tarmac road surfaces. I love oak trees, you see. Their size and often-idiosyncratic shape make them probably the most characterful of all the native British trees, and their leaves are also particularly good looking. Seeing them scattered and crushed by the wheels of vehicles, never to grow into sturdy oaks, irritates me. 

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According to Blogger stats I reached a milestone this morning: the number of page views to this blog achieved the dizzying height of a million. I would consider this a notable achievement if I believed it, but since I don’t I won’t.

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And guess what I did this morning. I rescued an earthworm struggling across the road. If only the Lady B knew how hard old habits die. It was raining at the time but I still watched the worm for a long time to study how they move. It's nearly always the little things in this questionable thing we call existence which I find most fascinating.

Pitying America.

Trump has just concluded his state visit to the UK, and while he was here he recommended to Starmer, our Prime Minister, that he should use the military to stop the influx of migrants. Trump doesn’t get it, does he?

For something like 200 years there’s been an inviolate understanding in the UK that the military is there for one purpose only: to protect the country against an armed adversary. It has no role to play in social and civilian matters; that’s the job of the law enforcement agencies.

But Trump does so love the military. He used it in several major cities recently to address the problems of crime and – heaven help us – homelessness. This must have, and certainly should have, worried a lot of Americans because the free use of military power in civilian matters is a mark of the true dictator. And now he wants to refuse licences to media outlets which disagree with him. This is truly chilling because a man who relies on the military to enforce his will, and who openly silences his detractors, is the very embodiment of Orwell’s Big Brother.

When Trump won the 2024 election I said on this blog that the man who had been little more than a laughable buffoon the first time around would become bolder the second time. And so he has, and his boldness is increasing as he shows his true muddy colours. It seems abundantly clear that America needs to divest itself of Donald Trump, but how to do that without an election, because any means which are not clearly democratic would run counter to the reason for doing it? I don’t know the answer to that, and I certainly don’t envy those better Americans who have to live with the worry of having Trump remain in office.

And of course, the real uncertainty hinges on what will happen when the next election comes around. Can we reasonably expect Trump to accept the end of his tenure gracefully? It’s going to be interesting, and I do hope that Europe manages to distance itself from American influence in the meantime.

Connecting With the Energy.

I’ve mentioned a few times on this blog that there’s usually a day in September when I go for a walk and feel that there’s something missing. I’ve always suspected that I was sensing the earth energies – or whatever you want to call nature’s driving force – falling dormant, and that this is the true start of autumn. That day was yesterday.

This morning my walk took me to the top of the lane where I saw a large number of swallows three days ago, hunting in their inimitable fashion over a field at the side of the road. That’s where I mostly see them, but this morning there were none. I looked in all directions but failed to see a single bird, and I assumed that they’d left us and begun their long journey back to South Africa. It saddened me a little because the day was bright and calm and the warmest day for several weeks. And then I made the tentative connection:

Am I right when I seem to sense the fall in the earth energies, and do birds feel the same thing? Is that how the swallows know it’s time to start the return trip?

I can’t know for sure, of course, but it’s good to think that for all I’ve lost interest in what modern western culture has to offer with its gadgets and its choices and its multi-media entertainment, coming to feel a subtle, quiet sense from the heart of nature is a whole lot more valuable.

Blacker Than the Blackest Night.

There are several videos on YouTube claiming that we are going to experience three days of intense darkness on 22^nd, 23^rd, and 24^th of this month. The darkness is going to be so deep, apparently, that it will be impossible to see anything at all, and the only thing which will alleviate it will be blessed candles. They say it’s God’s punishment for not paying Him enough attention.

The people making these videos are so earnest that I’ll be very disappointed if it doesn’t happen. I mean, YouTube is usually so reliable, isn’t it?