Tag Archives: intimidation

Worse Than Death?

Three men died that day they said,

The day they felled the tree.

They said it was an accident.

Because they did not see.

 

Hidden in that musty oak,

Lived a Spirit deep.

Full of kindness and respect,

Through centuries of sleep.

 

But time will pass and greed will grow,

When men desire more,

They do not see the beauty there,

And end up sparking war.

 

Jerked awake with a mighty roar,

Anger flared within.

She felt the saw dig mortally,

And knew she could not win.

 

So, she lashed with all her might,

With sadness and with hate.

All her powers focussed now,

Upon the humans’ fate.

 

Imprisoned in a block of wood,

The three men face forever.

Never learning over time,

That Nature is quite clever.

 

 

 

 

 

This poem was inspired by the attached photograph sent to me by Dan Antion over at nofacilities.com.

 

Thou Shall Not Kill

Now I bet you are wondering why I am stating the obvious. Sometimes the obvious needs to be pointed out again and again and again. Some people just don’t get it. In modern society we need rules, we need laws to convince people to behave appropriately. How sad is that?  Having laws means that we have a template to punish people when they circumvent what we consider to be correct behaviour. No, I am not going to regale you with a rant about how ridiculous some laws are. No, I’m just going to focus on one that I find perplexing.

Do not kill.

OK, that sounds easy enough, don’t kill.  Our laws in Canada do elucidate the word kill:  no killing of people.  But like every rule there are exceptions.  I once asked people if they had the courage to kill if it was warranted.  If it was to protect others, would you have the strength to take another life?  I don’t know that I do but I hope I could. I hope I would have the strength to protect another even with deadly force. I wouldn’t like it, hopefully. But if the moment ever came . . .

In my life I’ve probably killed thousands, tens of thousands. They just weren’t people. I’ve killed flies, spiders, microbes, bacteria. All these things were living and I ended them. Oh, but I have done so much more! I have killed the mood; I have killed a thought. With malice aforethought I have killed ideas. And I’m not the only one.

We seem to use that word indiscriminately. We have lessened its importance so that it is almost meaningless. We rant about somebody we dislike by saying that we could kill them. We don’t mean actually but are we so desensitized to the word that it is becoming dangerous.? We have video games, movies and even comic books that show various forms of killing and even encourages it. When it happens in real life, are we surprised? Should we be surprised? I don’t know. But I do find it frightening. When did the value of life become so insignificant?

I do not like to kill. Even buggy creatures. For years there has been a spiderweb in one corner of my balcony. As long as they stay in that corner, I will not disturb them. If there is a fly in my apartment I will try and coerce it to leave.  I do not like insects but I understand that they have a purpose in our world. They are part of the chain that makes up the whole.  But if you are a mosquito . . . you and your brethren, you will die. Bwaha ha ha!

 

 

I Did It!

I did it,

I killed him

I did wilfully commit homicide

I did with malice aforethought take the life of another and end it

I feel no remorse, no compassion.  I feel sated.

The long winter is over and now life can begin anew

He is dead

For a short time, I felt loved as a woman should be loved

And I returned the feelings tenfold.

When you love so deeply you can be hurt just as deeply.

I was lied to.  I was betrayed.

The scars run deep.

Perhaps too deep.

I did not feel his life ooze from between my hands as it left his body.

I did not feel his warm blood lessen the chill in the air

As it slowly covered the ground beneath him.

I did not mark him as he left his mark on me.

But he is dead and I am alive

I will continue to live.  He will not.

He will enrich the soil with his decaying bones

And life will blossom from his effluents.

I am alive.

He no longer holds sway over me.

It is over.

I killed him in my mind.

!Rage!

When I was a child, I had a temper. Think volcanic eruption level temper. I once broke my bedroom window from outside without touching the glass. I had skills. And it was just using my fist on the casing. Yep, I had a temper. What do you expect? I was a flaming redhead and there were expectations. My older brother is also a redhead. As my mother was a brunette and my father had dark brown hair, my brother’s parentage was actually questioned. What was even funnier was that the local fire hall had a redheaded fire captain. When I came along seven years later it was almost vindicated. My mother’s background is Northern Ireland and Scotland.

I was a passionate child, empathetic and volatile. As I grew older, I learn to temper my passion and my temper. One day as a young adult at university I was in the throes of a raging temper tantrum, when I happened to see my face in a mirror. To this day I remember that look. I was not impressed. I worked hard to harness and deflate that temper. I was tired of being a stereotype. And I succeeded. But I wonder if it was the right thing.

There was an episode on the original Star Trek called The Enemy Within.  It is about a transporter accident that splits Captain James T Kirk into two versions of himself: one is malevolent and the other is benevolent.  Aggressive and passive. What eventually transpires is that Kirk realizes that the two parts of him are what make him whole. He needs both. And I am starting to believe that rage is like that.

Properly harnessed rage can be used assertively. I no longer blow my stack so to speak. It is more insidious than that. Think of molten lava oozing beneath the surface instead of spewing forcefully from the top of a volcano. Now you don’t have to worry about me screaming, be afraid when I start to whisper.

I have used my harnessed rage when dealing with several major corporations, including government agencies, and I have been victorious. The fact that I was right might’ve been incidental. Hopefully I will never win a battle when I am wrong. I will not step down from conflict when I believe right and wrong is an issue but I will never actively seek it out. I don’t actually enjoy confrontation. But I’m still a redhead at heart . . . so beware . . .

Transparency

The catch word for today is ‘Transparency”. People think everything should be transparent, we should know it all. I am here to add my voice to that conversation and tell you… No thanks. I don’t want to know what goes into making my sausage that I am thoroughly enjoying. I don’t want to know the machinations that were used to get aid to those who require it. I just want to know that it has happened.

We live in a world where everyone seems to want to get ahead by stepping on other people. OK not everyone! But enough that we are concerned. We should be. And we want to know what’s going on to ensure that that doesn’t happen. I understand that. And I agree. But too much information simply muddies the water. I trust in the people we put in place to protect us. Call me naïve if you wish.  There’s enough going on in my life for me to worry about that it’s difficult to worry about, well, everybody else. And quite honestly some of it is none of my business.

I have used celebrities before as an example and unfortunately, they are the favourite punching bag. I don’t need to know everything about them. I don’t need to know their eating habits or their toiletry practices. IT IS NONE OF MY BUSINESS! It shouldn’t be anybody else’s either. I don’t want some stranger knowing what is in my medicine cabinet. So why does the gutter media think they have the right to snoop so intrusively? I don’t know. But I do know that there is a certain transparency that should not be exploited.

I once watched a YouTube bit about a transparent public toilet. (It’s in Japan) when no one is in the room it is transparent. When someone comes in and locks the door it turns opaque. It is done to dispel the concept of dirty, smelly bathrooms. With my luck I would be halfway through my use of it with my knickers around my ankles and it would turn transparent. Seriously. I don’t have that kind of courage. But it highlights the whole concept of transparency. Sometimes it is a good thing. But not always.

It is not transparency we require; it is accountability. We need to know that what is important will be taken care of and what is not important will be dismissed. The trick is knowing the difference. There are things that once seen can never be unseen. Things once said that can never be unsaid. We need to be careful and we need to be accountable. If we take responsibility for things that we have done or said then we have a much better chance of being accepted for who we are and what we believe. At least that is what I believe.

To Plan or Not To Plan

This is a Blast from my Past. I still think it holds true even today. I hope you enjoy it. Previously posted on March 11, 2018.

A friend of mine made a comment the other day that I have been pondering ever since I heard it. He said that ‘a bad plan was better than no plan’.  Now he is a military man so perhaps in that context it might be true.   An intelligent person can always modify a plan on the fly. Thereby changing a bad plan into a good plan.  But using the same rationale: couldn’t one create a plan, on the move, to suit the circumstances of the moment?

My first reaction was that I don’t have a plan. Or rather I make things up as I go along. I like spontaneity and the titillation of not knowing what’s coming next. But then isn’t that idea just a very loose plan?  I’ve been talking myself in circles. On one hand having no plan can leave one floundering with no idea, no concept of how to move forward. On the other hand having no plan could mean that you’re open to create the circumstances you wish while not being constrained by any artificial restraints of your ‘plan’.  Are you confused yet? I am.

Some people enjoy the regimentation of everything being planned to the minutia. Others, myself included, love the instability and challenges that can creep up when you’re not too tightly organized. When I was traveling I made sure I had a plan for getting to my destination and I was aware of my options once I was there but I liked to make any decisions when I opened my eyes in the morning. I liked to be able to change my plans at a second’s notice. I liked the challenge of not knowing what’s around the corner and then reacting to it.

Now isn’t that what life is all about? I am sure my parents had plans for me as a child and worked towards my being a competent adult. I think they did their job well. I of course may be biased in that! But I am a thinking adult. I make my own decisions and I’m capable of reacting to the world around me. I enjoy that aspect. Someone once said that everyone should do one thing a day that terrifies them. I like that idea. I might not do it everyday but I do not shy away from that which frightens me. Except for snakes. Oh my good heavens I am so shying away!!!

Whatever kind of person you are, planner, non-planner or a combination of the two, I think we all have the same goal:  to enjoy life, you’ve only got one!

 

Who Shall I Kill Next?

 

Betty sipped her coffee hot

And watched the scene below

It was a busy market day

And the crowd was all aglow.

 

Children were laughing and running

Between the shopping stalls.

Mothers with prams were trying

To manoeuvre makeshift walls.

 

Nearby long-suffering fathers

Trying to look so cool.

Or at the very least

Not appear the fool.

 

Betty could see the thieves

Trying to work the crowd

They tried to be unnoticed

Their work was not allowed.

 

Then the Workers of the Night

Came looking for a score.

It looked like easy pickings

As they peaked around a door.

 

Now Betty had a code

That she followed to a T

She could not bring herself

To hurt a child you see.

 

So she would stay away

From the mothers that were there

The fathers on the other hand

Who said life was fair?

 

Though it might be easy

But it really was a thought

Men could be the target

She wondered if she ought.

 

She was getting bored.

Somebody had to die.

Should they be deserving

Or one who caught her eye?

 

The sun was setting for the night

Soon the light would dim

Work was needed to be done

It’s not a silly whim.

 

She heaved a sigh, and flexed her arms

And prepared to take a life.

Perhaps she’d use some poison

Or perhaps just with a knife . . .

 

 

Chapter One . . .

Lip Service

Now for those of you who know me, this is a warning. I guess basically it’s a warning for everybody. I’m about to have a little rant. Something has recently been brought to my attention again and I wish to vent. You have been warned.

I live my life from the seat of wheelchair. Again, to those of you who follow me you know this. It does not affect the person I am but it can have a great effect on my surroundings. I’m occasionally hampered by steps, by doors and by people. The steps and doors, I just look for another way or sometimes don’t do what I wanted to do. The people, that’s where life gets interesting.

As a child I was painfully shy. I didn’t speak up in class, I wouldn’t look anyone in the eye and I lived my life terrified that someone would speak to me. Obviously, I survived. In High School I joined the drama club by accident and I was given tools to help me deal with my insecurities. I grew to love inhabiting someone else’s psyche. And then this happened.

In my middle 20s I developed multiple sclerosis. As diseases go it really isn’t that awful. I was able to hide it for many years. But eventually it became obvious. The wheelchair is a dead giveaway. With assistance I am still able to continue to have a fulfilling life.  Our government is wonderful at mandating that society assist with disabilities. And for the most part they do comply beautifully. But then there are the other ones.

I went to see a movie a little while ago in a very big, well known Cinema. They said they were wheelchair accessible and technically they are. And here is something I don’t think most people understand. You can be technically correct and still be oh so very wrong. My wheelchair accessed the cinema perfectly but the only spot available to park said wheelchair was so close to the screen that I couldn’t take in the whole image without moving my head. There was no one sitting anywhere near me because no one wants to sit that close to the screen.

Think of sitting in front of your TV. Now think of sitting 3 inches from the screen of your TV.  Are you comfortable? When I mentioned to the manager that this was a problem and asked if there were there any other places for wheelchairs to sit, I was greeted with a shrug. You know the shrug, that raising of the shoulders to the ears that signifies “I don’t give a rat’s ass”. But because no words are exchanged it can be denied.

I did try to watch it. It was a good movie and I really wanted to see it.  I had to wait for it to be on TV where I could actually see the whole screen.

I tried to call the head office (this is a really big organization) and had a hell of a time. No one was terribly interested in what I had to say. It was brought to my attention, quite forcefully, that they had passed all the laws to be fully wheelchair accessible. I asked them if they knew what it meant to be wheelchair friendly. I swear to you, I heard their shoulders go up.

I know that things are significantly better than they used to be for people with disabilities. It will never be perfect. There’ll always be someone that is unsatisfied. I am thankful that I am welcomed in so many places. But sometimes I just want to watch a bloody movie. And in some places that is too much to ask.

There is a movie house I do frequent that goes above and beyond for wheelchairs. It is privately owned by someone who cares.

This is something these big corporations don’t seem to understand: if something benefits me and my wheelchair it also benefits many others. People with canes, walkers, baby carriages. I want to live in a world that is completely inclusive. Perhaps that is only something that is possible when individuals are involved. Corporations spent too much time looking at their  bottom line.

 

Rant completed. Thank you for your attention.

 

Troll Bridge

We watched them kids patrolling above
In particular acts of wanton love.
Their giggles and laughter is noise to the ears
But sadly no sign of horror and fears.

It seems that perhaps a memory is lost
The Trolls of Troll Bridge would be the cost.
The whimsy in turn is somewhat remiss
No fantasy here, no magical bliss.

The children forget and the adults do too
Of the creatures that lurk so close to you.
So now out of sight has meaning galore
and out of mind, the creatures no more.

If strolling the bridge in the warmth of the night
Don’t look around or you will take fright.
Under the bridge or behind the next post
Is a world yet alive but closed to most.