Political Stagnation

And now a word or two from a purely fictional character by the name of Logan Roy, fae Dundee no less (as above). The sad truth is that nothing "official"can be done when we're up to our necks in political stagnation. It doesn't mean that we are a nation full of stags either, they've all either been culled, mounted on walls as trophies or been adopted by the kindly capitalist Spirits of Christmas. Maybe time for the souls of the anti-1707 zombies to rise and run free.

Relections

Reflections on the lost cause of Scottish Independence: We're in an abusive partnership, where the rules and the parameters change all the time. The Unionists are clever, they're in it for the long game, they know they have the power and the fear. They control the facts, they have all the muscle. If you think you might challenge the UK establishment then you're in for a one sided fight. Look at how Harry and Megan are being treated. I'm no fan of the royals but the methodology for maintaining their "order" in things is clear. People who refuse to do their duty simply wont be tolerated, that's the first rule. Then they excommunicate you in a lather of self preservation, because you really don't matter. Don't expect fair play, kind words or understanding. Don't expect anything to change because I doubt it ever will, in the near future anyway and some day there will need to be a fight, a proper fight.

Here's a piece called "Reflections":

Looking out on, frozen waters,

I was bound to share the shame,

Here I stand now, cross the border,

Will my times there, just fade away?

Angry silence, grasses blowing,

See the clouds run, heading on,

All this landscape, seeking order,

Tell their stories, nevermore,

Years' oppression, takes the soldiers,

Voices silenced, losing song,

Words and promises, just growing older,

Broken down now, to bring it home. 

Basics

A back to basics day today, avoiding the codswallop of before. A brief history of the spectacular. A dustbin full of bees. The correct temperature for boiling custard. It was dark, my headlights were on but my vision was somehow hampered. A raindrop touched my nose, cheeky. Phone batteries are better than ever but can be easily forgotten about with tragic results. I did not drop my keys down the drain. An email from my third cousin in Colorado? The lights were on and somebody was at home. I lost my torch at the baker's shop. Laundry done without a quandary. You can visit the charity shop without an appointment, that's really anytime you like. Petrol has gone up in price at the forecourts. I did not watch any Jethro Tull videos. 

These are things that I did not speak, utter or say out loud today at anytime at all. I wonder what I'll not say out loud tomorrow?

Land of Shadows

Brief encounters in the ever open, never closed, land of eternal shadows: Placing your mortal soul on the line is seldom easy, that is unless you have no actual soul. I'm ambivalent when it comes to the matter of souls and their existence, souls come and go, some troubled, some disagreeable, others are completely fine, probably the majority. Then again are they even there at all? 

The shadows are a different matter, they lurk, they distort, they hide and they cover. You see, people will talk, people will stare but few will bother to listen. They like to make it all about them, as if they had any substance. Well...

"Actually I feel quite at home here (or there) in that shadowy world. You see despite my best efforts to hide the fact, I really have no soul at all, not the tiniest bit, I'm all shadow." These are words I never did say. I wonder who did, but that's not an actual question. 

On reflection (tough to see in the shadows) perhaps there's just a bit of shadowy matter maybe, floating, with a tiny portion of diluted soul, disjointed. That's better.

Daily Image

Aldi cheese counter, visited and viewed whilst on acid.

Third day

Colours of January

I did some colouring in today, (that's the 2nd of January 2020 to be precise). Of course when I say "did" what I really mean is supervised and when I say "supervised" what I really mean is facilitated but when I say "facilitated" what I really mean is observed and when I say "observed" what I really mean is that I was, for a short period of time in the same room as where these various masterpieces were created. I can therefore claim no actual credit for these pieces and intend not to do so at any soon or into the distant future.

Bye bye 2019

Farewell 2019: Best TV of the year? Possibly Succession, maybe Chernobyl, not GoT but it was OK and I'm glad it's wrapped up now. Can't really remember much more. Funny how a TV series can grip you for a time then just evaporate away into the ether like it was never really there. Just don't give into the fear of missing out, you're probably not missing much. Cheap, digestible entertainment, plenty more to come in 2020 to keep us all from thinking too seriously about the real problems out there. As for the worst TV, I don't watch enough to really have a proper opinion but BBC News and election coverage must be in there somewhere. Night night.

Lucky Black Cat

A lucky black cat in a TK-Max bag.

A candle

The time of the season for candles...

When Christmas isn't white

No white Christmas here, just foggy sunshine beaming down to create the crisp and bright weather that was the order of the day. I also found myself in an unfamiliar part of the Lothians and managed to capture the Queensferry Crossing from a spot I've not used before (nor have many others I suspect). As a result I got some fairly satisfying shots as the mist rolled out across the river and the bridge structure emerged into sunlight.

Boxing Day

Christmas Day

Christmas Eve

I present a lovely and colourful Christmas tree I digitally knitted myself. Happy Christmas Eve and here's to fewer wordy word based things in 2020 (which is only a few days away and I'd like to think a reason to be cheerful).

Mealie Mince

Numerous possible spelling mistakes abound in the title but who cares? It's just a variation on an ongoing pie theme from the North where they know a thing or two.

Big headed cat

Another in  series of posts that contains a reasonable amount of the minimum of information: that's the minimum information in this minimalist statement.

Fruit based economy

Brexit etc.

Peat and Diesel

A Hebridean version of one of the most over exposed Christmas songs ever, a fact that's nobody's fault I suppose. Some babies grow up in peculiar ways. Anyway I cant dislike a band called Peat & Diesel despite their reliance on the awful tones of an accordion for the main part of their sound.

Daily flower photo