Month: February 2016

A little fiction.

I assume many of you know that I am the author of a novel entitled ‘MetaMagik’. If you haven’t heard of this, but would like to check it out, you can find it as an ebook here;
The reason I’m telling you about my writing, however, is not to try to sell you copies of my past work. During the worst of my recent morphine miasma, I found it very difficult to write at all, but now that my mind is clearing, I have been thinking about writing again, and reviewing some of my unpublished work.
I found a file of what is called ‘Flash Fiction’, containing very short stories. These were experimental stories I wrote under very strict, self imposed, conditions. Every story is exactly 250 words long (excluding the title), not 249, nor 251. This sort of restrictive writing helps concentrate the mind, as you may well imagine, and produced from me a series of somewhat whimsical phantasmagoria, that very few people have ever read.
As I am feeling brave today, I have decided to publish one of my ‘250 Word Wonders’ for the first time, on this blog. I’m not looking for flattery, but if enough of you like my flash fiction, I have others that I can show you over time. For now, please read what is written below.
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Tales of Times Gone Bye and Lands Unknown
There is an old man who has lived in my memory since childhood, although his body is lost in some forgotten grave. This white haired and withered old sea-dog, silent and secretive, sometimes let strong liquor encourage fantastical stories to slip his lips.
As a young man of vigour and daring he sailed the wide ocean, crossing deep and dangerous waters in search of sights unknown; coming at last to the shores of a land lost to civilisation. A place of mystery to history, and neglected by modern man.
In that far forgotten country there were to be found, great cities that would wander the land. Without people to occupy them the buildings had gone wild. Skyscrapers and bus shelters, schools and hospitals, the houses of the rich and poor, would travel in herds, leaving wide roads of trampled wilderness in their path.
What purpose these cities possessed without a population, the old man could not fathom. He was the last human to see the cities, but what he saw was very little. Fear had kept him from exploring the secrets of their streets. He had only ever spied them as they stumbled over the distant horizon.
No one ventures any more, to the land of the roaming cities, but I assume they abide there still. The cities live while the old man, last human witness to their existence, has left this world for good. What other wonders did he witness, but fail to leave for future generations to remember?

Why “Zero Tolerance Zone”

After the excitement and activity of automaton construction, today I find myself laid up in bed, resting while the pain goes down. Times like this are not a total waste, as I find, like Descartes before me, I do some of my best philosophical thinking whilst lying in bed.
The thought occurred to me that you might be interested in why I chose to call this blog, “Zero Tolerance Zone”. The simple answer is, that it is another example of a running joke within my community. For a few years now, when I attend a big party, or am somehow involved in a public event, we make the joke that it is a ‘zero tolerance event’, in other words if (I) Zero, tolerates it, you can do it. The joke, of course, comes from the well known fact that I am very tolerant of a wide range of behaviour and beliefs, many of which are not officially sanctioned by the powers that be. In fact, my idea of zero tolerance is the antithesis of what the government and police mean when they use the phrase.
Now that you are in on the joke, I ask for your forbearance while I explain why I believe I have such a large zone of tolerance, and why I think that more tolerance in general would make the world a better place (before I start preaching, please remember, although a friend or two may call me guru as a term of endearment, I don’t believe anyone should follow my philosophy of life blindly; after all, I am as flawed and imperfect as anyone else. All I ask is that you listen to what I say with a critical mind, and then think and act in the way you find appropriate; or, as the Big Monkey Cult saying goes, “Think for yourself, stupid!”)
After reflecting on where my strong inclination to tolerance comes from, at its core I believe is my study of the philosophy of the mind. I have been studying philosophy for over thirty years, both mainstream and fringe thought, from the ancient Greeks, to (thanks to that wonderful institution, the Open University) the most up to date thinking on the nature of human consciousness. My study of consciousness has also had a profound impact on my view of the nature of reality itself. The scope of my tolerance, I believe, is a natural result of my philosophical thinking.
It is a common belief, that the modern human is a rational being, whose actions are in their own self interest, based upon knowledge learned from past experience. The (mythical) average person, if they reflect on it at all, believe that they are in charge of their own actions, that their memories are facts, and that they share an objective world with everybody else. Philosophy, neuroscience, and physics tell us that this view is simply not true.
Philosophical thinking about consciousness, informed by facts gleaned from science, have taught me that processes in my brain can make me take physical action (to stand up and walk, for example) long before I am conscious of the decision to act. More precisely, my brain may decide to act in a certain way, and then make up a reason for that action, creating the illusion that I am always consciously in charge of what I do.
Memories are also infamously inaccurate. Not only do they change over time, it has recently been proved that it is so easy to implant false memories in the mind, that no one can be sure, based on their own recollection alone, that even major events in their lives ever happened. A freaky thought, is it not?
Finally I learned that the idea that there is an objective reality, experienced directly and by everyone, is false. As you may have heard me say repeatedly in person, when we refer to the world at large, all we can describe is the model of the world we hold in our mind. Everyone’s model is different, and no one’s model reflects the whole of reality.
The human condition is one where, against our own intuition, we act before rational thought, our memories are unreliable, and the world we think we know is not outside, but within our own minds. All of us think some things are true that are actually false, and believe some things impossible, when in fact they are real.
As I learned that I, just like everybody around me, was fallible at such a basic level, I became more forgiving, more tolerant. I realised that many things people argue and even fight about, from who is the best pop star, to who has the biggest god, are meaningless. When you refer to the best or worst anything, you are only referring to your model of the world; there is no objective way to judge such things. The only possible things you can say for certain, are those things that occur in your own mind, and even then your mind might be playing tricks on you.
The more I learned and thought about these subjects, the bigger my tolerance zone became, however, I am not so tolerant that I think everything should be permitted (there is an in joke in that sentence, for those who can see it). With no external guide as to what should and should not be tolerated, I realised that I had to decide these things for myself, and only for myself, as I can’t impose my own morality on anybody else.
There have been many great philosophers before us who have tackled these questions of morality. Although I’m not a christian I have no problem with the injunction to, “love thy neighbour”, or “do unto others as you would have them do unto you”. Kant said something similar, which I try always to keep in mind, “treat people as an end in themselves, not a means to an end”. I’m sure you can see how following these tips for living could lead to a better world for all of us.
I truly believe that, if you want to make the world a better place, you must act like it is already. The only behaviour and point of view you can change directly is your own. If you think people should help each other, you need to make the unilateral decision to do so. If I see someone in distress in the street, I believe as a fellow creature, it is my duty to to try to help them. This makes me sound like a saint, but let me assure you that I am not, I fail by my own standards regularly, but that doesn’t stop me trying.
That is an important point, if we are all fallible, we have to be as tolerant of our own failings as we are of others. We are never going to get everything right all the time, but if we are going to survive and prosper as a species, very time we fail, we should start again trying to be good.
All the above is a simple outline of my thoughts on a complex subject, and I don’t expect you to blindly agree with me (in fact I would be disappointed if you do). I would be very interested to hear what you think, and you know that I will be open minded, and tolerant, of your point of view.

Automata…my latest obsession.

Welcome back to my blog about the rambling thoughts and activities that are products of my slightly deranged mind.

Having recovered my senses after the morphine withdrawal, and got my wingeing about the government’s ‘War on Cripples’ out of the way, I’ve decided to share something more positive and creative with you.

I have always been interested in automaton, those, often whimsical, moving sculptures that have been with us since Greek antiquity. Apparently in recent years, automation have been making a bit of a comeback, so I thought I would jump on the bandwagon, and make a few myself.

After a couple of experiments using cardboard, I decided that Valentine’s Day was the perfect excuse to produce something more polished and substantial, as a gift for my wife. With my beloved Zooty as inspiration, I spent the best part of a week to produce this…

Yes, when I think of Zooty, my heart takes flight. You may also notice the mini-me cranking the gears (thanks go to my grandson Jake, for taking the video). Suffice to say, Zooty loved her Valentine’s present, and I had such a good time making it, that I’m eager to produce more automata. If you like what you see, be sure to keep checking this blog to view more of my creations.

Love & peace,

Zero

My heads back in the room

I have returned from the weird world of opiate withdrawal, and as promised, I am ready to expound to you all, on the meanderings of my mind.
First I have to admit that Zooty was right (as if anyone doubted), there is a readership for this blog out there, with hundreds of views from ten different countries (U.K, Ireland, Australia, U.S.A, Bolivia, Thailand, Belgium, Italy, Sri Lanka, and Switzerland). That’s a lot of nations united by reading my blog, I thank you all, and hope I can think of enough things to write about to maintain your interest.
I’ve spent the last week lying on my bed, an activity that has become increasingly common in the last few years. In keeping with medical advice for cripples in my condition, I try not to stand when I can sit, and don’t sit when I can lie down. If you have only seen me somewhere ’round the world in some desolate, isolated, desert, then you can be forgiven for not realising that I have spent the majority of the last decade virtually bed-bound.
Things, however, are changing, thanks in part to a new pain specialist, new analgesia, and a realisation that if I have to wait for medical science to find a cure for my condition, I could find myself waiting a life time. That is why, somewhat over a year ago, I decided to ignore the pain (something I’ve had some practice doing) and start to exercise, and rebuild my atrophied muscles.
At first I joined a Tai Chi class, but had to give that up, as I was slowing the class down (not entirely a joke). Now I try to exercise at home, which is beginning to have an effect. These days, although I have a wonderful wheelchair that my friends conspired to get me (my friends seem to be making a habit of buying me wheeled vehicles), I am attempting to walk more, albeit slowly, and with style, using a walking stick. Walking may, however, get me in trouble with the government.
I said I would be telling you something about living as a disabled person (I prefer the term ‘cripple’) under this hostile and abusive British Government (how abusive, so much so that the U.N are investigating this government for Human Rights abuses against it’s sick and disabled population, the first country in history to be investigated for this. It’s weird how you don’t hear much about this in the mainstream media, don’t you think? You can check it out here;
and in many other sources).
Here’s the problem with me walking to get fit. When you fill in the forty plus pages of the disability benefit form, they ask you very strict questions about, how far you can walk, how much pain you feel, and how you go to the toilet (I’m not kidding about the toilet question). These are deliberately not open questions, they don’t want you to explain your situation clearly. I have to repeatedly write that I am always in pain, that I walk with the aid of a stick, and that with every step the pain increases. If you have met me, you probably have noticed this, my doctor and specialist certainly have, but the government refuses to take guidance from doctors (what do they know, after all).
A few years ago this led the Department of Work and Pensions (DPW) to conclude that, according to their letter to me, “I could walk as well as anyone, I just had to take my time and use a stick”, which is why they were stopping the money I used to lease a car. I had to appeal to get the money back. It took the appeal board a massive three minutes of deliberation to reinstate my benefit, but you may remember I was without a car for over a year.
This is my dilemma when I exercise and walk; the government interprets exercising as being fit and healthy and ready for work, they don’t acknowledge that after years of inactivity, it is going to take a lot of time and effort before I’ll be anywhere near normal (what ever that is). My next reassessment for benefit is due to start in September (the DPW loves to spend its resources reassessing people, to see if your circumstances have changed. They even regularly reassess people with multiple amputations, perhaps they think limbs grow back), and I have reason to worry that they will casually cut of my income, while I am in no fit state to earn my own money. If you think this won’t happen, I’m afraid you haven’t been paying attention.
A good friend asked me recently, if the demonisation of the disabled made me angry. I told her that what upsets me most, is the prevailing idea (a result, I believe, of government propaganda) that disability is a ‘lifestyle choice’ (a junior Tory minister actually said this), and that some how I want to waste the majority of my forties in bed, in pain, and in poverty (let’s be very un-british for a moment, and talk about money. As a general guide to how much disability pays, the government says no household should get more than £23,000 per year in benefit. Zooty and I get by on a little over half this). Do they not understand that, regardless of wanting to be healthy and pain free for its own sake, I have dreams and ambitions, things I desperately want to be fit enough to do. When, not if, I finally improve enough, I already have some secret plans (a secret known to quite a few, and one the rest of you will learn if you keep reading this blog) for how I would happily earn my own living.
I think that’s enough ranting for one blog. Over the last week I have found myself cogitating on this subject, and I thank you for allowing me to get it off my chest. Morphine withdrawal gives you a lot of time to think, unfortunately, not all those thoughts are beneficial. If any of you have ever wondered what opiate withdrawal is like, bye the way, let me assure you, it is not as glamorous as in the movies. Think of having the very worst man-flu, whilst being away with the fairies. Mentally, in fact, it feel like a practice run for alzheimer’s; not a pretty thought.
That was last week, now my heads back in the room, and my mind is improving day by day, I will think of a jollier subject to blog about next time. Even with all that is wrong with the world, I still look for the positive, and when I find it, I will be sure to share it with you.
Love & peace,
Zero