I have begun to believe my mind is full of tiny little topics that act like pimples.

No one can predict the order they start to fester in, or when they’ll get ripe and burst.

Showing posts with label classic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label classic. Show all posts

Friday, 27 February 2015

How Our Society Is Totally Backwards



How Our Society Is Totally Backwards – The Paradox Of Our Age

The following is an excerpt of  “The Paradox of Our Age,” from Words Aptly Spoken, by Bob Moorehead.  It perfectly sums up everything that is backwards about our culture. 



We have taller buildings but shorter tempers; wider freeways but narrower viewpoints; we spend more but have less; we buy more but enjoy it less; we have bigger houses and smaller families; more conveniences, yet less time; we have more degrees but less sense; more knowledge but less judgement; more experts, yet more problems; we have more gadgets but less satisfaction; more medicine, yet less wellness; we take more vitamins but see fewer results.
We drink too much; smoke too much; spend too recklessly; laugh too little; drive too fast; get too angry quickly; stay up too late; get up too tired; read too seldom; watch TV too much and pray too seldom.
We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values; we fly in faster planes to arrive there quicker, to do less and return sooner; we sign more contracts only to realize fewer profits; we talk too much; love too seldom and lie too often. We’ve learned how to make a living, but not a life; we’ve added years to life, not life to years.
We’ve been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet the new neighbor. We’ve conquered outer space, but not inner space; we’ve done larger things, but not better things; we’ve cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul; we’ve split the atom, but not our prejudice.
We write more, but learn less; plan more, but accomplish less; we make faster planes, but longer lines; we learned to rush, but not to wait; we have more weapons, but less peace; higher incomes, but lower morals; more parties, but less fun; more food, but less appeasement; more acquaintances, but fewer friends; more effort, but less success.
We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but have less communication; drive smaller cars that have bigger problems; build larger factories that produce less. We’ve become long on quantity, but short on quality.

We have confused price with value



These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion; tall men, but short character; steep in profits, but shallow relationships. These are times of world peace, but domestic warfare; more leisure and less fun; higher postage, but slower mail; more kinds of food, but less nutrition. These are days of two incomes, but more divorces; these are times of fancier houses, but broken homes.
These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, cartridge living, throw-away morality, one-night stands, overweight bodies and pills that do everything from cheer, to prevent, quiet or kill. It is a time when there is much in the show window and nothing in the stock room. Indeed, these are the times!

Why do we choose to live this way?




Change starts with each person being individually responsible for their actions and behaviour.  What kind of world are we voting for with the way we choose to live our lives?


Share and Enjoy

I did

Blaine Barrett

TheSmeeGoanGuy


-        

Monday, 20 October 2014

Seamus and the Leprechauns



 

 

SEAMUS AND THE LEPRECHAUNS

Once upon a time I wrote a joke I am proud of: this is it.
I wrote it as a teenager a half century ago and I haven’t told it in at least 30 years because society and the times have changed. I come from a family of Irish story tellers and the story is to be told to a captive crowd of listeners preferably around a campfire with the accompaniment of the sound of flames, the clink of beer bottles and Teddy Berg’s farts. It’s a long yarn so settle in and get ready for the hook at the end: it’s worth the wait and I’m going to get you with an amazing solution to a very serious problem with a religious sexual bent. Read on:

 

It was a cold blustery, rain threatening morning when Seamus Donnelly rose from his bed and looked gloomily out his one little kitchen window at all the work that wasn’t going to be done today. Great dark boils of black clouds rolled over the Ulster horizon and the sky was a leaden grey with sudden gusts of wind and occasional lashing rain. His little farm lay before him waiting for his attention and his horse drawn plough to sow the seed that would hopefully yield a crop that would allow him to eke out another year of his pitiful existence.

God, it was cold in here! He pulled on some clothes and quickly and efficiently built a fire in the kitchen stove that slowly but surely warmed the room. He quickly made his customary breakfast of porridge and whatever left-overs he could find and the sat at his little table to consider his dire situation.

He was poor. The little land and small two story cottage he had inherited from his mother just could not produce enough surplus for him to ever better his condition and it was in the depths of despair that he finally decided that he would go fishing. He grabbed his line and baits, pulled on his big heavy boots, threw his cape around him and stormed out the door into the dull grey day.

He decided he would go and fish in a nice pool he hadn't visited in a long time and he hoped he remembered his way as he trod along the narrow path that followed the line of the creek. As he walked, the more he thought about his sorry life the angrier he got, and he finally worked himself into a complete state of frustration that had to be released.
 



Suddenly, just there, back of those trees, appeared a perfect target for his rage. An ancient mushroom or toadstool stood alone in a small clearing. It was huge, at least four feet across, useless because it was way too big to eat, and Seamus vented his rage with a great kick from his boot that spun the cap upside down across the clearing.

As soon as the great lid flew off Seamus found himself staring down into a deep cave, all fitted out better than his cottage and face to face with three very surprised leprechauns who as soon as they sighted him grabbed up their shillelaghs? and launched an attack upon him.

One of them jammed his stick between his ankles and felled him to the ground, where the other two joined in beating him to a pulp. He was struck on his back, his head, his knees, his arms and all the while the oldest of these furious little creatures ranted

“Who do you think you are you big dumb lummox? You come stomping into our yard with your great big clodhoppers and kick off the roof to our house that has taken two hundred years to grow.

Seamus succumbed to the seemingly endless punishment and grovelled before the old leprechaun covered his head with his hands and pled

“Please sirs, cease and desist. I meant you no harm. It is all a terrible mistake. Please, I would make amends, please!!”

The blows stopped at a command from the elder and after a lengthy persuasive argument Seamus convinced them to let him try and rectify the damage he had caused.

He dragged the cap which remarkably had survived in one piece and got it roughly braced in position with supports cut from the willows with his jackknife. He went and gathered long grass and using his fishing line created a thatched roof for the cap and he sealed all the cracks with wattle he made from straw and mud from the creek.

Finally he finished and anxiously waited while the three little men inspected his work
.
When they were done the old man came and stood in front of Seamus and looked him sternly in the eye and said

“I am named ConĂ¡n Cedric which in the Old Tongue means Wise Chieftain and I am. I make the decisions here.

This is my son named
Chad which means Defender and he ensures my decisions are enforced and that our Homeland is protected by his son Aidan which means the fiery one.

I have inspected what you have done and it is good therefore I have decided that you may go but if you come this way again it is at great peril.

Seamus limped home. He was bruised all over his body and he built up a fire and patched himself up as best he could, and he made some supper and then he settled back in his chair by the fire to just sit and heal for the evening. It had been a horrible day!
Thank the Lord it was over.

Just after dark there was a loud knock at the door and when he opened it he found himself face to face with the Elder Conan who stood awkwardly twisting his hat in his hands and who asked if he would please grant him a moment of his time as he was here to see Seamus on a matter of great importance.

Somewhat fearfully Seamus welcomed the old leprechaun into his cottage, but being a good host as all Irishmen are, he settled the old man comfortably at the table, made a pot of tea, and when it was ready poured each of them a half cup of tea then filled each cup with a large shot from the jug of poteen he had been dosing his aches with.

The old man looked Seamus straight in the eye and said "My clan and myself have been considering the events of this day, and we have decided that we have done you a great injustice. Unlike most of your ilk you did not try to capture and hold one of us until we surrendered our gold to you, nor did you make the sign of the Evil Eye when you saw us. We can see you had no intent to harm and you have tried to make amends.

To rectify that injustice done you, we have decided to use the powers given to us and grant you a wish and I am here to find out what that wish would be?"

Seamus refilled their cups and asked the elder if he would mind if Seamus took a few minutes to consider the matter and the old man told him he could take until
midnight if necessary, but then added the stipulation

"But be ye so forewarned that whatever is granted to you will be granted your neighbour in double measure."

Now this required some consideration and it took a while

Seamus was a Protestant and while he really wasn't a churchgoer he had his own little prejudices when it came to Catholics. Now Joe Reilly his neighbour was a Catholic but he seemed a nice enough fellow and they'd always got along when it came to mending fences and cutting peat and such.

Seamus decided that what he needed was farm equipment so he could increase his efficiency and cost. As far as his neighbour went, Well, you can only drive one machine at a time so a double supply would give Reilly no advantage and in fact given the size of his farm would simply be in his way. Bonus.

It took Seamus several poteen refills to clarify his thinking to come up with his wish and he told the old man:

"It was because of my poverty and my inability to get this land to yield a comfortable living that caused me to be in such a foul and angry mood when I assaulted your home. I never want to be like that again and I think that if I had sufficient farm equipment I could have a much better future."

"So be it" said the elder, and putting his right index finger beside his nose muttered strange words in the Old Tongue, strained, farted and then beamed at Seamus and said "Granted".

So to celebrate the deal Seamus proceeded to refill his poteen jug from his secret stash and by
midnight the poor little leprechaun was so pissed he could not navigate. Seamus picked up his now snoring guest and carried him the two miles to his mushroom hut where he delivered his burden to the old fellow’s kin, and then made his way back to home and finally his bed.

The next morning he woke to a cold cottage again but when he looked out the window the rain was gone. It was a beautiful day for working the field and there all along his left fence was every conceivable type of farm machine a man could desire One huge and one small tractor, John Deere no less, McCormick plows, harrows, and seeders, a Massey Ferguson combine and a threshing machine, why there even was a potato picker to gather his poteen ingredients.

Just on the other side of the fence was a duplicate line of farm equipment that matched his to the smallest detail. There sure was a lot of it but Seamus didn't begrudge Reilly his good fortune because they were still even. He spent the rest of his day accomplishing what had previously taken him a week. It was a wonderful day and he finished it off with another atrocious porridge and gruel meal, and then settled himself for a well earned rest beside the fire. Once again there was a knock on the door just as night fell.

There stood
Chad the Defender smiling benignly and asking for audience as his father had. Seamus could not refuse after the good fortune that had been bestowed, so he once again made his guest comfortable at the table and produced another supply of tea and poteen adequate for an evening, and once again settled himself to hear what was coming?

"Sir, you were a real gentleman, a good and generous host, and a good guardian for me Da after he drank himself into the shameful state you brought him home with, and we surely appreciated your leaving some of that excellent poteen that you make just so he could relieve the hangover we expected him to have this morning. I am pleased to report that he is feeling much better; in fact, we all are, since what you left was enough for me and the boy to warm the cockles of our hearts.

In appreciation of your courtesy and care I too have the power to grant a wish and it was decided in conference that another be fulfilled. What will it be? but once again

"Be ye so forewarned that whatsoever is granted to you will be granted your neighbour in double measure."

Again this required a great deal of thought, but then Seamus remembered that the worst point of this day had been waking up in this cold, damp, cottage and that damned slop he ate for breakfast.

He imagined himself waking up when the stove had warmed the room, smelling the smell and hearing the crackle of bacon cooking and why not a nice female voice calling him to a breakfast fit for a king. With his new equipment he could afford it so why not a wife?

He thought about what this double benefit would mean for his neighbour and he began to find merit in the idea that even made him chuckle, why the man had double housekeepers but that meant he in fact had to work harder to feed another mouth, and from what his mother had taught him about two women under the same roof and the disastrous consequences then he was doing the man no favour by ruining his home life and for a brief moment he almost felt sorry for his neighbour. He had gained a real advantage in the competition to succeed.

He refilled the poteen jug and the told
Chad his wish for a wife and laid down a lengthy list of requirements during the following evening. Before Chad left with his gift of a jug of poteen for their house, he faced Seamus looked him straight in the eye,
"So be it" said the Chad and putting his right index finger beside his nose muttered strange words in the Old Tongue, strained, farted and then beamed at Seamus and said "Granted".

The next morning Seamus rose to a warm house just as he had imagined and he soon heard a soft female voice call

"Breakfast is ready, Seamus, my dear!"

So he ventured downstairs and she was everything that he had expected. She was pretty with red curls that peeped from under a lace cap and shy blue eyes that looked at him adoringly. She wore a long full skirt but showed small feet and dainty ankles, and the straining against the front of her blouse gave great promise of secrets yet to be revealed.

She fed him a breakfast fit for a king, spicy sausages and Colcannon just dripping with butter and she sent him out the door to work with a kiss on the cheek and a look that promised adventure when he returned.

He was in high spirits thinking about that return home and what might occur, until he got up on the top of his tractor and a
high point of land that overlooked his neighbour’s farm. There was one blond girl with long hair beating out a rug on a clothesline. That was alright and there was O'Reilly ploughing his back field, but what the devil, there was the second wife, a stunning brunette, on the second big tractor harrowing away in another field. This was not good.

He had lost his competitive edge in his imaginary contest with his neighbour and had just doubled the mans production force.

He brooded all day and came to the realization that things were actually worse than that. He remembered the promising look he had received from his new wife and what he had imagined was going to happen on his return home. He could just imagine what his neighbour was coming home to. Those were two good looking young women he had waiting for him.

Even after supper, when his wife had retired upstairs, Seamus sat and considered a very black future. The future survival of the Donnelly clan was at stake. His children would be in competition for survival with that Papist bastards offspring and not like it or not the prick had a real advantage now. Everybody knew those Catholic bastards didn't practice any form of birth control. That asshole, from what Seamus had heard from the village gossips, was in dire deep shit with the local priest for his frequent inclusion in the confessions of wild sexually explicit act involving one Mary Maguire, widow. That randy bastard was going to breed the Donnelly’s out of existence and there wasn't much he could do about it

Suddenly there was a loud knocking on the door and he opened it to find young Aidan the fiery, on his door step and there was a replay of the previous night’s poteen provision as a pain killer and pacifier before he was once again seated across from a wee leprechaun with something to say:

“Me Granda and Da and I checked out the repairs you made to our house and we have found that it is much better than before. There are no drafts to bother Granda and he’s warmer, and the chimney you put in works a charm and Da’s eyes are almost back to white because all the smoke can get out, and my cough’s much improved and Granda has decided that this deserves a thank you for a job well done. I have been sent here to grant to you the last of our wishes, mine own and thank you very much kind sir, would you care to tell me your wish?
But

"Be ye so forewarned that whatsoever is granted to you will be granted your neighbour in double measure."

Again the evening was lost in copious consumption of medicinal alcohol to keep his thinking clear, and contemplating the outrageous sexual improprieties being performed next door while his wife was plaintively calling him to bed. The hour approached
midnight and young Aidan pressed him for an answer.

Seamus slowly raised his glass of poteen and sighted across its levelled rim right directly into the young leprechauns eyes an quietly asked

“Now tell me truly young feller,
Would you be hurting me too much
if I asked you to remove

One!,


mind you


One only!


of me testicles?”

Wednesday, 4 June 2014

Rational Suicide- Part 3



Rational Suicide- Part 3

A Consideration of End-Of-Life Concerns



We Are All Going To Die

“How” Should Be Our Choice



The Last Six Stages to Death

Ageing= Love, independence, Pain, Dignity, DNR, Faith


The Canadian Medical Association has finally begun to realize that they are going to be hit with an overload of Dying Old Farts in the near future. They have been engaged in a series of Town Hall Forums across Canada in partnership with MACLEANS magazine to gather and assess the facts about End-Of-Life treatment in order to handle and devise a plan to deal with the problem. Unfortunately only the readers of MACLEANS were aware that they were all televised and could have been watched online. To this point there have been 4 meetings and MACLEANS fortunately has recorded all of them and they can be seen at the link referenced at the conclusion of this post.

1.    Feb 20-      St.John’s, NL
2.    March 24-  Vancouver, BC
3.    April 16-     Whitehorse, YT
4.    May 7-        Regina, SK

They present a stellar group of expert caretakers that have been gathered from nearly all aspects of Terminal Patient Care: Physicians, Nurses, Social workers, Hospital staff, Hospice manager, Nursing home and assisted living volunteers and others.

They are missing the fact it is doubtful the resources they are counting on will be available in time to handle the problem. In my opinion it didn’t matter which profession addressed the panel none of them mentioned the possibility that the growth of resources could not match the need for end-of life-care that will develop in the next thirty years because of the Bloomer Blooming that is now underway. There is no consideration in their planning for any of the threats faced by global warming reducing resources essential to support the demands of the global population. They all blithely assume that when the need arises all the facilities needed to care for our seniors will be available and paid for by somebody else. That quite simply is not going to happen.

With the current availability of resources; the growth of services required will never be met! They are too many. The cost of servicing them to support an aging population of the size anticipated is going to increase exponentially because aging requires changing residences to accommodate the differing stages we encounter with aging.

Simple examples are moving to a planned retirement home and then losing your ability to maintain the place and moving to an assisted living facility. Then you lose your mobility and here comes the wheelchair crowd at the old fogy’s joint and then inability to care for your personal needs and then back to the hospital and the doctors who will make your exit in a cloud of pain killers to handle surgery, radiation, and the horrible agony of chemotherapy side effects.

There are all kinds of needs and endings but the two most horrible in my mind are losing myself to Alzheimer’s, or worst of all; losing my ability to communicate and control my care then be confined to a hospital bed for as long as my personal service immigrant minimum wage girl can keep me alive. Isolation inside your own head, three tasteless feedings of hospital crap that you can then shit out and lie in until girlie comes to wipe your arse does not qualify as a “dignified death”.

Rational suicide is simply the right to get a “dignified death”, when I want one but that is another fight.

Getting back to the CMA, listen carefully to the hair splitting they do when they consider all the ways that ending a life can be done but do not qualify as “Physician Assisted”  suicide.

If you watch one of these m,ake sure you watch the opening of the series at St. Johns Fe 2, 2014. That is ½ hour and effectively is the first half hour of the following three.

I will end this post now and ask you to watch some of the middle and end discussions in the series and make up your own mind whether they are just navel gazing and ignoring external reality re resources availability.
Please check this link out and I will be back with a following post to justify the inclusion of Rational Suicide as an alternative in the End-of-Life discussion.





Until later
Blaine Barrett

Tuesday, 20 May 2014

Rational Suicide- Part 2



"Rational Suicide(2)"

Retirement

It’s Something to Consider Seriously!

The Times They Are a’ Changing!

Part 2 of ?






The Last Six Stages to Death

Ageing= Love, independence, Pain, Dignity, DNR, Faith


The Aging Process

At the conclusion of Part 1 I left you considering the future that you are now entering and asked you to think about money so let’s start there.

If you are over or nearing the age of 60 if you haven’t already planned on applying for your early Canada Pension Plan do so. Simple monetary fact: you pay a penalty but it is money to be saved but if you manage to last to the target age of 70 you wind up money ahead of the game. Check it out: when I did it took one month of unemployment to qualify for the early pension. That can be obtained with an unpaid leave of employment that most employers will be happy to grant.

The other thing I left you with was a comment about your social circle starting to shrink and that really accelerates on your retirement. If you are the man of the house be prepared to lose most if not all your friends at work. Simple fact is you aren’t there to witness the daily business transactions and relationships and that is what you talk about with your home boys.. You’re out of the loop and contacts are lost. The other thing you must be aware of is that your daily work location is going to move into your wife’s work location and conflict of schedules is almost inevitable. On the assumption that you do have a wife:

Some tips to take seriously

Tip #1:
The first thing to do is sit down and as best you can, estimate what your combined income will be when you retire. You calculate what your fixed income is going to be from all pension plans and hopefully a cash flow from your investments. When you are done take a good hard look at your monthly income because that is what you must survive on until you reach 90. Hopefully your investments are large enough to permit cash withdrawals on an occasional basis because sooner or later you are going to need all you can get to cover your care.

Tip #2:
If it is at all feasible get yourself a debit and credit card and switch to a plastic economy. If you pay on time it costs nothing and the statements provide a complete track of your spending. You can actually create a budget hopefully with a surplus amount to save or handle crises when they arrive. Unfortunately you can count on nasty surprises and unexpected expense. Shit happens!

Tip #3:
Don’t expect your sex drive or sex life to last forever. If you are lucky menopause didn’t cancel your wife’s desire out and she still wants some lovy-dovy.
Even if your partner in bed is willing, sooner or later almost every man will watch Big Red turn into Pinky Dinky and point at the ground. Use it or lose it holds true! That is one of the more nasty surprises you will encounter.

Tip #4:
Expect your memory to start screwing up and you start mistrusting your self about little details. Your car keys and wallet are always where they are supposed to be but when you leave the house you have sudden panic attacks and slap your pockets silly to find and reassure yourself you have keys and cash. You spend half an hour looking for your glasses and discover you’ve got them on, names get hard to remember and if things are not important we’ll just forget them and not bother remembering details.

I’m going to leave you here until the next post to just think about the sequence of events and the repercussions you can foresee from just leaving work, the reduction in income and coming home to roost under one roof. Talk it over with your partner because she’s going to share the same future with you. If you both can foresee problems in your future relationship, adjustments can be made to avoid conflict and keep caring for each other. That is of primary importance.

Having reached awareness of those problems in the first five years, my next post will deal with the physical deteriorations that seem to start at age seventy of even sooner and how to approach and handle them.

Until then
To be continued as
Rational Suicide (3)
Slowly Falling Apart

As soon as I get it written.

Blaine Barrett

Saturday, 17 May 2014

"Rational Suicide"



"Rational Suicide"

It’s Something to Consider Seriously!

The Times They Are a’ Changing!

Part 1 of ?



The Last Six Stages to Death

Ageing= Love, independence, Pain, Dignity, DNR, Faith

May 05, 2014: CBC News published an article on a controversial topic

“John Alan Lee pushes limits of Canada's assisted suicide debate”

Why Controversial?
Because it exceeds the limits of Euthanasia advocacy!
How so?
Lee’s death was not precipitated by a terminal illness or extreme suffering. Instead, it stemmed from Lee’s belief that he’d simply had "enough." He made a well thought out rational decision.
"It’s the Goldilocks problem," Lee said. "Not too soon, but if you wait too long and you end up in care, they won’t let you make that choice anymore. If I ended up in hospital or even a nursing care home, I would be prevented from making that choice and I know people for whom that happened. And they are cautionary tales for me."
They are cautionary tales for all of us and if you are reading this pay very close attention because it is talking about a future that everyone is going to share and you’re included.

Why are you included?

Because you will probably exceed a “natural” life span”
                            
                             What the hell is that?

70!

I base that statement on one made over two thousand years ago. It is based on historical observation of life until then by some very astute men who define the course of a natural life span as follows:

Psalm 90:10 :-: King James Version (KJV)

10 The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away.”
This is not a religious statement but a statement of fact that held true for all of history until the turn of the last century when some major developments began to change both society and the physical world.
1.     The world population has reached the point of exhausting the resources necessary for its sustainability as Malthus predicted in the1840’s and is still ignored.
2.    This has been exacerbated by the blooming of Medical Science and its incorporation that began with urbanization at the turn of the last century. That changed the profession into a commercialized industry whose major profits are from life extension.
3.    Pollution from human activity reached a point where global Warming and climate change now threaten the future of the environment.
4.    The monetary system on which the world’s population depends to pay for their daily survival has been co-opted by the Bilderberg Billionaires to the point where 1% of the population controls 99% of the money and a dollar is worth less every year
So Where Does That Leave Us?
Shit Outta Luck
at the mercy of a future we can all see coming but try to ignore.
In the course of the next 50 years the combined negative effects of the four listed Global challenges are going to come to fruition and it’s not going to be pretty. You can foresee shortages in almost near everything needed for survival in a time of impending environmental disasters of ever increasing severity. Sometime and place in that soup of disasters we are all going to die
With the arrival of the Baby Boomer Generation to near retirement age the competition for resources is going to explode and there is no way to predict how or when you will die but one thing is certain is that you are going to keep getting older and you are going to die. The unfortunate fact is that if you last long enough you wind up in total isolation and alone in the care of strangers. Not a nice place to be.
Unfortunately if you are 60 you are not going to put up with the crap ahead for just the next ten years until you reach your natural life span. Thanks to doctors and religion you can look ahead to an additional 20 years in the disaster zone. What I want to convey to all of you is the things that are unpleasant but almost inevitable that can happen on you on your way through the Six Stages To Death.

For simplicity in presentation following is what the aging process can and will probably present to you in the next thirty years of your life- If you last that long. You simply don’t know what or when it will hit you, but you will begin to lose:
1.    Love
2.    independence
3.    Pain
4.    Dignity
5.    DNR
6.    Faith
If you’ve reached the age of sixty you already have noticed your social circle begin to shrink. People start dying: the tempo increases through the first decade or so then it fizzles when the supply starts to dry up. Live long enough, it will and loneliness sucks.
Retirement is a big adjustment and you better get ready because you need a bankroll and if you don’t have a big one, the going can get tough. .
I am going to end here because I am running too long and I want to give anyone who has managed to follow me this far time to think about what is coming ahead. I am following this with a second post devoted to what can be involved in simply going through the process of aging.
It will walk you through what you will encounter with problems mental, physical, societal and fiscal as you continue to wake up each morning and face the coming day!
To be continued as fast as I can write it
Blaine Barrett

Wednesday, 18 December 2013

A Christmas to Remember





A Christmas to Remember




In the fall of 1982, my wife Patti and I left Cincinnati and headed for Florida. Over the summer I had rebuilt a 1950 Howard English Caravan Travel Trailer we bought for $350 and pulled out of a hillside. One day we climbed into our monster gas guzzling 1972 Cadillac Sedan de Ville, hooked up to the Blue Goose as we had named her and headed out into the wild blue yonder.

 We stopped overnight in Newport, Kentucky because of a blown tire on the Goose and then in the morning we stocked up. Hey! It’s Kentucky: Cheapest cigarettes and booze in the nation. We stuck 35 cartons of cigs and 30 six packs of beer under the bed and took off again and finally landed in St. Petersburg, Fla.  where we took up residence in the Holiday Trailer Park. We got lucky and landed a spot right next to the Community Hall with access to wash rooms and settled in for the winter.

Things got rough: no work!  The job I had been offered disappeared with a drop in the phosphate market. Florida is a right to work state (no unions) and competition is terrible for what is available given the number of snowbirds that hit every September. This creates a situation where before you can even be considered for a good permanent job by any employer you are required to have one year of residency, a Florida Drivers License and a phone number. Things were really desperate by the end of November but Patti got lucky and found us both a job at Orange Blossom Groves. It was hard manual work packing citrus fruit. Christmas presents to the North by the tourists but it saved our bacon. 21 days straight of 12-14 hour days, minimum wage but overtime no problem and the owners and management treated us well.

Shortly after we arrived, we had renewed an acquaintance with Tara, the daughter of John, our drunken neighbour from next door in Cincinnati. She was living in Clearwater with her Kentucky hillbilly boyfriend, Jim Bob, and they undertook the task of showing us the local amusements that could be afforded by poor white trash. There wasn't much, but there was salt-water fishing and no license was required. One night in late October we arranged to go fishing off the pier at Clearwater. This juts out a couple of hundred feet into the Inland Waterway off Clearwater beach and the water at most might be 15-20' deep. Patti and I both had fishing rods, and guided by Tara and Jim Bob's supposed expertise on what we should use for bait, we bought a bucket of shrimp and went down to the end of the pier with them one night just after dark at high tide. Tara, Patti and I baited up our hooks and waited for Jim Bob to appear with his gear.

He was a long time coming but eventually he showed up with a short fishing rod about 5' long and 1/2" in diameter with a huge reel on it loaded with what seemed to be about 80 or 100 pound test line. He proceeded to string on about a 6 foot stainless steel leader, a huge hook, and baited it with a half a chicken, and fired it out about 50' and sat down to wait for a nibble. Given the fishing expertise he professed to have this aroused my curiosity and I asked him " What the hell are you going to catch with that rig, Jim Bob?" and he calmly replied, "Well I'm fed up tryin' to ketch those little buggers so I'm goin' to catch me a shark!". Things went downhill from there.

We stayed at Holiday Campground until the end of December. We had planned on staying the whole winter but a combination of hillbilly temper and old family rivalry upset these plans and we got our asses tossed out of the park. The day before Christmas, we invited Tara and Jim Bob over to our place for a Christmas dinner. They arrived accompanied by Jim Bob's younger brother, Don, his girl friend, and an adequate supply of beer and smokin' dope. The day was a beautiful 85 degrees and we spent the whole afternoon getting progressively more and more stoned and in general having a real good time while the bird cooked.

After supper we sat outside in the gathering dust, full bellied and content, and watched the faithful old fogeys in the park slowly file into the Community Hall across the way for vespers on Christmas evening. Somehow Jim Bob and I got into a wrestling match on the front lawn to determine who was the better at the game. It took me a while to pin him and we made a fair bit of noise that aroused the further attention of the Peaceable Kingdom crew at their church service.

After I managed to subdue Jim Bob, we relaxed with a few more beer, until suddenly Jim Bob's brother insisted that he have a match to see who was the better man in the family. This turned out to be a fairly even match and it went on for some time. As it progressed it got more and more violent and noisy and near it's conclusion Don was shouting "Mom always did like you better than me!!" and the fight was on in earnest. Punches, kicks, and a whole lot of very loud profanity followed and once again drew the attention of the churchgoers across the street, and they sent Art, the geriatric campground watchdog over to investigate and restore quiet so they could continue their service.

Just as Jim Bob finally won the bout and stood over his brother in the encroaching darkness, Art, the ancient caretaker for the park, arrived on the scene. He noticed Jim Bob had dropped his wallet during the fight, picked it up, and approached Jim Bob from behind. As Jim Bob turned towards him, Art tapped him on the shoulder and thrust his wallet out in front of him directly into Jim Bob's face. On instinct Jim Bob parried the blow he thought was coming and retaliated by throwing a super right cross that caught Art right in the eye and sent him over backwards onto his ass. The shit hit the fan.

Art was helped away by a couple of his fellow churchgoers, and our company, deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, piled into their pickup truck and roared out of the park. Unfortunately Jim Bob let Tara drive, and before they got off the property, she managed to knock down a telephone pole that carried power for half of the park. By midnight, the action was all over. We had been visited by the park manager, hollered and chewed out, our tenancy voided, and we had been asked to leave. It surely was an evening to remember.
One of the most fun ever: shit disturbing the neighbours!
What a night!

Tuesday, 17 September 2013

A Welcome Change in My Advocacy


An Overdue Shift in Direction


Loose the Hounds!!

When I began to advocate for Dr. Rob Kamermans back in January, 2012 it soon became apparent that I had three main problems to deal with. In order of priority:
1.    The vindictive persecution of Rob and Mary Kamermans,
2.    The Invasion of Privacy re 4100 Patient Medical files, and
3.    The Criminal Negligence of the OPP for refusing to return them.
For the past twenty months I have concentrated almost exclusively on Number One: Dr. Kamermans, defended him and promoted his best interests to the best of my ability. It was not an easy task and I have had a fantastic education in a very short time. It’s like a bloody disease. More snooping and investigating, analyzing the results, what’s it all mean? Rip it apart, something smells here and now there’s a new cemetery loaded with rotten crap to start digging in and it goes on and on.It has not been wasted time. 

I am pleased to report that I have finally reached a point where I can safely leave Rob and Mary in the trusted hands of others and get on with Problems 2 and 3 foregoing.
What happened?

Two things happened almost simultaneously. I have been gifted with finding you lot! A whole crew of decent motivated honorable people that I never knew existed until I started the blog and got involved on Facebook. I won’t name any names because there are too many and the people, to whom I am directing this, already know their self worth and they are not doing their thing for adulation and recognition. Thank you for your help.
Suddenly a new Group page named “Dr Kamermans Support“ opened up and the Good Doctor’s pretrial hearing was kicked into next spring. Bonus to both but for me my work for Rob is suddenly redundant. 

Check out the new page at 

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Dr-Kamermans-Support/641665675844206


So where do I go from here with my advocacy?

THE WARPATH! THAT’S WHERE!
AGAINST  WHO?
HYPOCRITS IN OTTAWA
THE WHOLE DAMNED BUNCH
We’ve Got:
1.     A Leader who Emulates Hitler
2.     A Police Force of Common Criminals, and a
3.     Canadian Medical Association Advocating Patient Harm.
WHY?
BECAUSE THEY OWE US!

THIS IS TO EVERY ONE OF 4100 KAMERMANS PATIENTS
LISTEN UP! THIS CONCERNS YOU!

If you are one of the 4100 patients of Dr. K. who had your file seized and held: you have been victimized intentionally by your Government and by the Ontario Provincial Police.

You have had your Medically Confidential Patient file invaded by the Ontario Provincial Police. All your personal private medical and personal information is open to examination by Pigs. That was not the objective of the seizure: the objective was the information in your Medical Marihuana Access Application contained in your file. Health Canada rightfully told the Gestapo to “F@ck Off” when they requested access to their Top Secret files but some higher power in the Harper Autocracy simply provided the Pigs with the 4100 names in Dr. Kamermans files.

The policy of both the Canadian Medical Association and the College of Physicians and Surgeons of Ontario demands each of those file required a separate warrant before the contents could be accessed by a non-medical third party.

Who’s going to complain? This is the OPP breaking the Law! If anyone does complain the Office of the Independent Police Review Director will cover our ass. That is simple fact 

“Cops are not Criminals”!
Ask any one of us!

I am not going into detail here about the specific damage this has caused all you victims. That is for later but compensation is due for the enormous cumulative damages yet to be determined.

That’s not all that sucks big-time about how you have been victimized. The invasion of those file was compounded by one asshole arrogant son-of-a-bitch Sergeant Mark Duval, who with the consent of his superiors in the Ontario Provincial Police intentionally has refused to return your file to you, its rightful owner to this day. 

They have my file. I complained to the Director of the Office of the Independent Police Review and he covered their ass as expected and denied the complaint on the grounds the crime was over six months old. Even when reminded that it was still in progress shithead simply told me to piss off. 
Unfortunately under Ontario law my complaint that the OPP were guilty of Criminal Negligence under section 219 of the Criminal Code was denied by an arrogant asshole bureaucrat and there is no appeal to his decision. To hell with 4100 victims: the matter is not worthy of investigation, much less punishment of his poor confused Brotherhood of the Beast.

That is where it is at right now. Every one of us victims is completely powerless to get Compensation for Invasion of Our Privacy. There is no way to punish the Cops who intentionally broke the law in order to persecute and cause problems for every one of us.

I want every one of you fellow victims to go to the mirror and ask yourself if you liked being spat on. That is what they have done and you probably resented it and got mad at the time. Since then you sort of wrote it off as hopeless and just bitch about it When it happened you got mad and screamed and nothing happened.  You were ignored and by and large the majority of you wrote it off as a lost cause and just became an apathetic observer.

Getting mad is old hat
Don’t Get Mad! Get Even

If you are a victim I don’t care how mad you are, as an individual acting alone you’re like a powerless fart in a hurricane. Get involved! It will require no effort and only requires you agree to participate and wait for two very important possible results.

I want to get a Class Action Suit started because once initiated it can’t be stopped. I also want the Cops who intentionally committed Criminal Negligence to be brought to account.

I will follow this post shortly with another outlining each of my proposals and how they could and should proceed with your help.

Stay tuned. Simply recognize that together, 4100 powerless farts can make one hell of a stink!! 
LOL
More to follow
Blaine Barrett