Goodbye 2020

2020 has been a wretched year. Apart from the political tragedy that is America, Covid 19 has destroyed economies the world over and here in Australia, bushfires, in America tornadoes and floods, the death of so many icons, Sean Connery, Chadwick Boseman, Kobe Bryant and so many, so much more, makes this the most depressing year I have ever known. If a year was going to flush me out of hiding then it is indeed 2020.

So here I am and of course I'm wondering if anyone even remembers me. It has been at least 6 or 7 years since I last picked up my pen here.  So what happened in those 'wilderness' years? Well I'm going through a divorce, I survived pancreatic cancer but I'm having trouble adjusting to having large sections of my abdomen missing, I became a Director of a charity trying desperately to feed the homeless and hungry here in Brisbane. I live alone and have been focusing on my music and photography as a way to get me through the very, very, very painful and difficult days due to the cancer. My music is now available worldwide on Spotify, Itunes, Apple music etc and I'm proud to say it was achieved when the cancer was at its most diabolical. I'm still recovering from surgery the scars of which are so right angled I can't even tell my grandkids tales of fighting off sharks, unless there's something like 'geometric' sharks out there.

I hope during my absence that life has been kinder to you all than it has been to me. I look forward to reconnecting with some very amazing people here. Y'all take care and yes I will be posting regularly again. I wish you all a blessed 2021.

Rory D Grant

I've Got A Woman...No, seriously.

I'm still in 'Country denial'. I don't do country (unless there's a substantial paycheque involved). Anyway, like I said in an earlier blogpost - When I've been well enough I've been sitting in my bedroom with a digital recording deck trying to write and record an album worth of songs. I have about 6 now and need 10 (minimum). This is one of them...as per the request from Delores. You tell me if this is Blues or Country lol?  There's nothing to see on the video - only hear, so you may as well carry on with other things if you are kind enough to listen. Thanks :)

Rory

I don't do Country....

I can't recall if I have said I'm a musician on this blog before. I probably have but when you get to my age memory gets messed up by years of alcohol abuse and record companies slamming the door on the back of your head. Some years ago due to the paralysis in my arm, I hung up my guitar, switched off the microphone and resolved to be content with my memories (however hazy they may be).

Enter stage left one seriously switched on guy. Personal development coach to some of the top exec's in the USA, he heard my music (live and recorded), realised I had movement back in my arm and dragged me kicking and screaming to a cafe in the West End of Brisbane.

"You can sing"

"Yeah..well....I guess."

"You can write songs"

"Yeah...well...I guess"

"You have a unique brand of Country"

Wait...I have what? My head rushed through all the years of recording and playing live to try and pinpoint the moment I did Country.

"I don't do Country. I hate Country." I protested. "I do light rock, the blues and occasionally stray into heavier rock but I don't do Country."

His laughter made me realise he was having none of it. He asked me there and then if I would write an album worth of songs in a year. Short of cash since the paralysis and short of facilities I told him they would have to be "Nebraska" type songs.

"What?"

"Springsteen locked himself in a bedroom and recorded the album "Nebraska" on a cassette tape as demos - the songs had such a unique melancholy sound they were released with little professional sound intervention. I have a little portable recording unit. I'll do demos on it in my bedroom, but I aint going to a studio until I have a whole album worth of songs."

I wrote the first about a year ago.  I played it to my closest friends and listened to my own brand of rock coming out of the speakers at me. The first friend piped up "Good Country song mate. You could do something with that."

"Good what? COUNTRY song?"

A second friend confirmed the opinion of the first.

I grabbed an old CD of mine with 4 tracks on it released as an extended single in Britain (and died a sudden death) and pushed it into the player. "What kind of music would you describe this as?"

They listened patiently.

"Country" They both agreed.

I wrote a second song and gave it a progression and tempo which were unmistakably 'Blues'.
I touted it around before getting an e-mail from an intermediary.

"Hey Rory, great song, heaps of potential. It's being looked at right now by **** ****** as a possible single"

I hadn't heard of  him before so reached for Wikipedia - My heart sank 'A top Australian Country music artist'

"I don't do Country." I thought to myself. I looked at his profile again on Wikipedia and realised just how much money this guy must make. I fired off an email to the intermediary "Thanks John, let him know I've always loved Country and happy to write Country any day of the week. I have an extensive back catalogue of country songs if he wants to listen. He just needs to ask."

Vive La France!

Hide your face in shame book

I love Social Media.

"Sometime between 7am and 3pm, Saturday 20th" they said.

Our internet connection has been dreadful of late and the multi national involved had responded to my wife's Facebook plea for a better connection - they were coming to replace external cabling leading to the house.

Yesterday we waited, and we waited. Nothing happened.

For Rory D Grant, 'the hour of social media' had arrived. I would shame Telstra into action. I took to their Facebook page and unleashed my displeasure, I ranted, I raved, I demanded and disparaged in equal measure.  Bloodied and beaten they responded timidly, cowed, beaten. There it was on Facebook for all to see - a groveling apology was offered and the contacts proffered to rectify what was in their own words a 'let down'. Would I forgive them though?

Pleased at what I had achieved using social media I triumphantly looked across the sitting room at my wife. "I did it darlin', the bastards are sorry they ever let us down, they've grovelled and will re-arrange for their engineers to come out. I love how they respond so quickly when you hang out their dirty laundry in public. Rory D Grant 1 Telstra 0 ."
"Telstra?" My wife piped up.
"Yeah Telstra."
My wife shook her head, "We're not waiting on Telstra Rory, we're waiting on Energex...."

I hate social media.


Rory.

What's up in Wisconsin?

I have so much catching up to do. Had to start somewhere so I thought I'd have a look at which blog posts have been popular in my absence. Some of you know that I have two blogs - this one and 'If the Truth Be Told'. So I thought I'd look at the viewing figures for both, and I looked again...and again. Was this right? Could what I was seeing possibly be right? The smallest post entry I have ever made had not 100 views (which would have been good), not 500 (which would have been awesome) but....are you ready for this? Just short of a quarter of a million views...Yes 236,064 to be precise...did someone highlight it on TV or radio in Wisconsin? Where is Wisconsin lol?

What have I done? Why Wisconsin? So many questions, so few answers. Does this mean I could have been a billionaire if I'd only signed up for ads? Hell I didn't even do much - just threw up a Youtube video and a small piece of text.... The Blog Post in Question

Rory

Just the usual kind of morning....

Just the usual kind of morning today, got up at 5am, went to the shops for milk, said 'Good morning" to a few faces I recognise daily, found a dead body in the bushes, came home, had a shower then coffee....Oh yeah, 'found a dead body in the bushes' that's a bit unusual I guess. He looked dead, felt dead, poor fella - but when the ambulance guys tended to him they assured me there was life in there somewhere. Anyway, whoever he was, I hope he makes it ok. Now that I'm blogging again I guess God has decided to give me something to talk about by way of a kick start.  I do so hope it's not going to be a blog littered with the dead and dying though - I want happy stuff!

Ok I'm making a promise to myself - my first ten blog posts will be uplifting....It's so hot here today though (I'm talking a million degrees), it's not really conducive to thinking and writing...

Unfortunately therefore, the most uplifting thing I can come up with today is this...

Rory.

I may have been in a coma....but then again...

Gently does it. I sat down and thought of all the weird, wonderful and simplistic things which could have prevented me from blogging for so long - coma, alien abduction, arctic expedition, none of them had the ring of truth I sought - because none of them would be true. Ill health does ring true. But ill health is complicated, 'wordy' and doesn't really convey the depth and nature of the issues bedeviling me for so long.  So there you have it, Rory's been ill, very ill. and that has to suffice for now. I'm better now, I know this because I can see, I can type (albeit painfully), I can walk, I can play guitar again - hell I can even hop skip and jump but I'm still working on the landings. I'm back blogging because I need to - I missed everyone here, even those with whom I might be at variance with their points of view. So why push it? Why turn up now? Well it seems to me there's a whole lot of hate and trouble going on out there (I'm pointing to the street from my window but 'street' = planet).

People who have genuine affection for one another and probably more importantly, genuine affection for those they don't even know, need to gather now. There's an urgency in the air. These are horrid times for so many. Let's see if we can write our way out of all that ails us as a species and a planet.

I cannot be held responsible for any posts made after 9pm however - I take my wonder drugs then. Jonathan Swift would be proud of me.  

To those of you who are still blogging after these years have elapsed - Good on ya :)

Missed you all.

Rory.
PS - Don't ya just hate trying to remember passwords after years of not signing in?

Les Miserables, and so this is Xmas....

A very merry Xmas to everyone. Yes I'm back and this time I'm back to stay. The last nine months have been a living hell and I thank everyone for hanging in there with me. I'm now able to write again. There's much to catch up on but for today my return to the internet coincides with witnessing movie history in the making.

My wife and I have just returned from watching Les Miserables at the local cinema. This version takes the musical film genre to new heights.. Russel Crowe (Javert) gets big billing for this one and whilst I have no criticisms of his performance I thought he did what he does best - he played Russell Crowe. The show stoppers however have to be Hugh Jackman (Jean Valjean) and Anne Hathaway (Fantine). Jackman powered through the movie displaying the full range of his acting talent as well as his singing, but for me, the moment celluloid history was made was when Hathaway sang 'I dreamed a dream' - go see it, crumple in your seat and wallow in tears. For the entire duration of the song the director never once moves the camera from her face and it's no wonder, her face keeps the rhythm while her eyes sing the melody. I have no idea what the record for the longest time spent on one person's face is in a movie - but this has to be a contender, it also has to be a contender for an oscar. It's probably the most powerful piece of cinematography I have ever seen. A marvellous piece of work by Hathaway that left me spellbound.

Over the next few weeks I'll bring you up to date with what's been happening to me including some pretty astounding neuropsychology findings. In the meantime however; it's good to be back and wishing everyone the fullest and safest Xmas and New Year.

A Horribly Busy Day...

My wife surprised me with some good news today. Remember when my lap top died and went to heaven and yet she somehow miraculously resurrected it? Well, unbeknown to me she took the longish book I had been writing for the last year out of it, edited it and published it on Amazon as a Kindle book (Just in case I died during surgery lol). I was pleasantly surprised to see it there when I scurried off to see if I had sold any of the 'Auld Lang Syne' books in the last month.

It's a niche market - not everyone's cup of tea - but at least it's now 'out there'.

So often is she 'writing' - and so often am I - that we communicate across the office using chat on the computers by sending each other links to interesting stuff on the internet, weird stories, novel ideas - it sounds dysfunctional but can be very humorous and every now and then we do talk to one another in real life. Today, when I thanked her for formatting it and publishing it for me - I asked her why she took it upon herself to do so...had to laugh at her mailed reply...

'Because I know you Rory - this would have been your response if I'd asked you to do it...'

Women, they know too much about us men.

Rory

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Rory D Grant - The Naked Truth

If this blog post 'joins up' at the end - then well and good. If not, it's because it's Sunday, sweltering heat first thing in the morning here in Brisbane, and with no kids here today I have wayyyyy too much time to think about fragmented, disjointed things - and yet my little brain tells me they are all connected. Oh and if nudity affronts you - look away now.

It all started with Cathy at Life on the Muskoka River who'd been taking pictures in her underwear (not of her underwear I hasten to add).

I then ran across a very brave Canadian Judge (Ontario Superior Court Judge Anne Malloy) who refused to sentence someone to the MANDATORY 3 year prison sentence demanded by law in the case of Leroy Smickle. His crime? He was posing in his underwear late at night, in his own apartment, for his own Facebook profile picture holding a gun. The cops bust in looking for his cousin (Leroy Smickle was wanted for nothing) - and arrest him instead for having a 'restricted loaded weapon' (which he had dropped along with his lap top at the shock of the door being kicked in). As Judge Malloy put it - sentencing him to what the law demands (3 years in prison) would be "unfair, outrageous, abhorrent and intolerable" - She sentenced him to a year of house arrest (which is still pretty crap given there really was no 'crime' or criminal intent).

Anyway, underwear was still on my mind as I was thinking of stripping down to mine in this heat - 'but what if the cops bust in looking for someone else? And the broken button on my boxer shorts gives too much away? Could I be charged with pointing a weapon at them? Even if it's a pretty harmless one?'

That got me to thinking about nipples. Not sure why but it did. And the crazy laws which pervade the USA about certain parts of the body. I remembered an ad I had seen being slated on the internet from Florida - Here it is -

Notice anything? All those big butch guys have no nipples. Seems it's against the law in Florida to display nipples in advertisments. From nipples it was only a small drop down to buttocks, and the lengths America goes to to keep them covered up...I remembered being outraged at the TV series NYPD Blue being fined $1.4 million dollars by the FCC for showing a 'buttock' on one of it's airings - a fine that took eight years to be overturned in a higher court. So what? The audience saw someone's ass (or at least half of it) - are we so ashamed of the human body that we pretend someone having a shower doesn't actually have an ass (as was the case in NYPD Blue)?

Then...I remembered...I don't talk much about 'private bits'...and on one occasion where I had to see a doctor to enquire about what I perceived as a problem with mine - I sat in the waiting room running through what the most 'user friendly' terminology to use would be - how do I tell the female Doc I want her to look at my.....'thing'? 

Do I say 'Penis'? Willie? Privates? John Thomas? It was perplexing me no end and when I finally reached her room and she asked in a mix of Indian/Scottish accent - 'What can I help you with Mr Grant?'

I kind of spluttered 'Well...it's my Birdie Doctor'

"Many happy returns." She said, and sat patiently waiting for what ailed me....

So I'm not the greatest conversationalist when it comes to 'bits' but I do have very strong opinions about them.

I'm no prude, I'm all for people getting naked though I don't do it myself....maybe when I was younger I would've been braver but in my entire life I have only posed naked for a picture with my instrument in full view once. And that was because my dear wife didn't think I would have the balls to do it. I'm a sucker for challenges.

It was so empowering I even thought of enrolling as a model for art students so they could master the art of drawing wrinkles accurately....

Hmmm - I don't think it did join up did it lol?

Let's blame the post op drugs :)

Rory

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The Deafening Silence....

'Knowledge is power'...or so the saying goes. One of the most liberating, uplifting aspects of modernity (or post modernity depending on your viewpoint) - is the way knowledge circulates, and of course the advent of the internet in its own way empowers us all. There are threats to the 'knowledge' available on the internet however and they have been well documented and raged against. President Obama doesn't just have his finger ever close to a 'red button of death' - it's only a reach away to the proposed internet 'kill switch'. To be honest, he doesn't need any new legislative power to kill the internet in the USA - it already exists. The Communications Act of 1934 gives him all the power he needs to stop you and I chatting should he get fed up with us;

“Upon proclamation by the President that there exists war or a threat of war, or a state of public peril or disaster or other national emergency, or in order to preserve the neutrality of the United States, the President, if he deems it necessary in the interest of national security or defense, may suspend or amend, for such time as he may see fit, the rules and regulations applicable to any or all stations or devices capable of emitting electromagnetic radiations within the jurisdiction of the United States”

But there's an even greater danger in my opinion. Our knowledge is fed to us via the media (and shaped by the media too) - but even they can only feed us media pies made from the 'raw meat' they source. Much of what we need to know to survive on this god-forsaken planet emanates from science and scientists. What if you could 'shut them down? Silence them?' What if that very 'meaty' finding a scientist wants to feed everyone is devoured by the Government without us ever even getting a whiff of it? In very large part it is already happening.

The Government of Canada has been quite intentionally suppressing scientists and the important findings they have come up with for years now. It's shocking, unacceptable. How on earth this piece of 'policy' slipped through the Canadian system I do not know as I have always found Canadians to be fiercely libertarian. We've been Muzzled  

Ok, so one country keeping their scientist's quiet doesn't quite warrant a 'the global sky is falling' conspiracy theory from me - but it's not just the Canadians. Only two years ago the British Government 'dismissed' neutral scientists from their drug advisory boards because they did not return findings which sat nicely with the Governments own 'policy' view on certain drugs (This in its own way also impacts upon research funding). So outraged were the scientists that their research was being ignored that mass resignations followed - did it matter to the British Government? Apart from some short term embarrassment, no, not really. It was business as usual. Of course there are deeper and murkier scientific tales of woe - The eminent British Biological Warfare Scientist Dr David Kelly dared to question Britain's dossier on Iraq's 'weapons of mass destruction' - then after 'going missing' for a while, turns up dead in a field by means of suicide - that's possibly understandable - the 'Public Inquiry' into his death will bring things to light we all thought - 'Oh yeah - in an unprecedented move the Government decided the 'Public Inquiry' findings were to remain secret for 70 years'. Fortunately, public outrage and pressure has finally had the findings released - and they raise more questions than they answer.

And today in steps the NSABB - The who? The US National Security Advisory Board for Biotechnology. So where do they fit in? Well, once again it seems, they want scientists and science to 'shut up'. They don't want anyone knowing about 'Bird Flu' - they don't want the finer details published by scientists, discussed publicly by scientists and God forbid that we, the great unwashed, should ever understand what the scientists are talking about - we might just engage in biological terrorism if we understood it all... It's just the flu

I sincerely hope David Shukman, the Science editor over at the BBC doesn't mind me quoting sections of what he had to say here - but I thought he summed it up succinctly...

These talks go to the heart of a fundamental debate over whether scientists should operate openly and publish all their findings - which is a basic principle of modern research - or whether some subjects are so sensitive that some key details should only be available to a carefully vetted audience.
The researchers passionately believe that the best way to tackle the threat of a pandemic is to understand how the virus can mutate, and that only by releasing their results in scientific journals will progress be made.
Ranged against them are experts in security who argue that too much information in the public domain will create another weapon for terrorists.
It's a highly sensitive dispute - the scientists fear that any kind of censorship will set a precedent of government control over their work.

You know, there was a time when any scientist who knew how to make a nuclear weapon would be shadowed by the Secret Service in whichever country they lived in. Now so many people know how to make a nuclear bomb it's impossible to devote that kind of manpower to protecting or watching them. But I can't for the life of me remember when the last 'rogue' nuclear device went off...let me think....oh yeah...never.

When the open dissemination of academic findings is stifled, stilted or silenced - then we have truly entered the era of fascism.

This isn't about protecting us from 'terrorism' or harm - it's more shots in the war for control of our minds and our view of reality.

(Tomorrow if I blog about what a great family game 'Twister' is, or that kittens are cuddly - you'll know they got to me.)

Rory

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Life is a Stage... well, Theatre at Least

First off, can I thank you all for your wonderful well wishes. Deeply and humbly appreciated.

So, are you ready for this?

I was nervous, apprehensive but delighted my surgery was going ahead. For all of about five minutes.
Upon admission the nurse looks at my notes and says "Okay, surgery to the right arm ..."
"No, left-arm." I pointed out.
She giggles and says  "Oh, sorry," and crosses something out on the  paperwork.
I'm then told my anaesthetist will be here to interview me in a minute. Enter stage left ' Dave  the anaesthetist.'
"Hi, I'm Dave, your anaesthetist today."
After running through what I had eaten in the last 24 hours Dave seemed happy and confirmed that he was conversant with my medical history and within a couple of hours my surgery would be underway. He assured me he'd have me asleep in less than 30 seconds.  He then tells me a surgeon will speak to me in a minute. Enter stage left a 7 foot tall surgeon (I kid you not - he was a giant).
"Hi there Mr Grant. So, we are operating on your right arm today." Says he looking at my notes.
"No, left arm."
"Ah okay." he says, crossing something out on the paperwork. "I just need to draw on your arm now to highlight where the incisions will take place." He then takes my left arm and using a marker pen draws a line from my elbow to my wrist where he draws an arrowhead and some letters. "There we are, we'll have that sorted for you in a few hours. We do a lot of carpal tunnel syndrome surgery here. We'll soon have you fixed up."
"I don't have carpal tunnel syndrome. I have cubital tunnel syndrome."
Surprised, he stares at me, the paperwork, then at his artwork on my arm. Reaching for a medicated swab he then erases it all and starts again, only this time the line goes from my wrist to my elbow with the Arrowhead and lettering being completed at my elbow. My wife looks at me and I look at her and clearly we are both thinking the same thing.
' Does anyone here know what they are doing? '
And so I'm sent off to get into the garb I'll be wearing in theatre before being called to go lie on a bed ready to be wheeled in. As I'm lying there a woman in theatre dress hovers over me, "Hello there Mr Grant, I'm Monica your anaesthetist for today."
"I already have one. Dave. I spoke to him earlier."
"No, you must be mistaken. I'm your anaesthetist for today. Just been reading your notes. Won't be long now."
With that said, theatre porters start pushing me along the corridor towards theatre.
"Why you stopping here?" Asks porter one.
"He's theatre five." says porter two.
"Nah, he's theatre seven." insists porter one.
"Well lets just put him in five, if it's wrong they can move him around."
But what if theatre five is a sex change operation or a limb removal? I think to myself, but I'm beyond protesting.

Nurses gather around, stick needles in me, hitch up drips and offer reassurance before wheeling me properly into theatre five. It's all systems go. A face appears above mine, she's holding in her hand a green face mask, "Hello, I'm Jasmine, your anaesthetist for today."
Before I could tell her about Dave and Monica, the mask was on and I was asleep.

My one and a half hour surgery became a four-hour surgery. Not sure why, but it panicked the life out of my poor wife who was given no information (maybe they were sticking my balls back on after realising their mistake?).

I woke up in recovery before being sent to a ward.
"Three days you'll be here Mr Grant." The nurse said , "Or at least until you can hold water down, food down, pee more than 20 mm and move your fingers."
I did all four in less than five hours and begged to go home.

I was aching, drugged up to the eyeballs and tired, but once home I had to telephone my dad who I knew would be worried. What on earth possessed me to do that?
"Hi dad, it's me."
"Who?"
"Rory, your son"
"Can't be, he's in the hospital."
"I'm out. I'm home."
"It sounds like you, did they cancel your operation again?"
"No, they did it."
"And they've kicked you out already? What kind of health service is that?"
"No, I asked to get out. Everything seems to have gone okay."
"So exactly what they did they do son?"
"They took the damaged nerves in my arm and relocated them elsewhere in the arm and now I can move my fingers, even if only slightly."
"Oh my God, that's incredible. They take the nerves out of one arm, put them in the other arm and yet they still work the fingers on the original arm. It's amazing what they can do these days son."
"Well no, they relocated them in the same arm dad."
"That's what I mean, don't you see how incredible that is? They bundle them all up in the one arm and yet they work both arms! Amazing!"
(Big sigh) "Yes dad, yes. All my nerves are now in my right arm but they operate the left. Next year, they're going to put my brain in my buttock to cure my sciatica."
"Ah now you're talking nonsense son, it must be the anaesthetic. I'd better let you get some sleep. Great to hear you're okay! I'll tell your sisters you're well and about that amazing surgery. Fantastic what they can do these days. Bye son!"

Thank you once again everyone :)

Rory

I'm alive...

I made it...

Will update when I can...

Thank you everyone xxx

Now you see it...

Quick post before I go to bed - I've been working like a trojan today. I spray blasted the pavers on the porch to rid it of weeds growing between the pavers themselves - took me hours but by God we've got the cleanest pavers in Australia now. As I had the spraying machine out I thought I'd clean the batshitmobile too - didn't occur to me that it might be a bit too powerful for the car - but my wife rarely looks at the paintwork so hopefully it'll be sometime before she realises half of it is missing (I can always blame it on acid in bat crap or something).
But, but, but, the whole point of this blog post is to yap on about my favourite hobby - Photography! It's not just the taking of pictures I love - I love Post Processing (see, I am weird).

All tonight (and it's after midnight now) - I've been working on a picture of my eldest stepdaughter. I tried to catch her just 'naturally smiling' when she was with the dog that day we were all out together. Unfortunately that means you gotta take whatever else is in the picture at the same time too...if you look at the original example on the left you'll see a maroon pole which I hated, also on the left you'll see an elbow sticking in, and the roof of the cabin behind her points into her head. But I wanted to save it, I think I did. I took the pole out, smudged out the elbow and made the roof of the cabin appear to be behind the tree to stop it from 'pointing' into her head. I love Photoshop...

Did it work?

Oh, and so you don't think we are constantly lovey dovey like the Ingles' in Little House on the Prairie or the Brady bunch - on that same day here's how one sister totally ruined another sister's 'nice shot'...

G'night everyone - Great to be back :)

Rory

If I had my life all over again...

I'd be a photographer. Yes I would. I love taking photographs. Today's blog is a happy one but nothing happy seems to happen these days without a dose of misery to kick it off - so let's get that bit out of the way first.
For a year now I've been writing various short stories and one work of non fiction, all of which disappeared when my lap top died (My wife has repeatedly told me - 'Once you're finished writing for the day, e-mail yourself what you have done and it means it will never be lost'.)

Of course stupid old 'My lap top will never break' me - has never e-mailed anything. Lap top died and all my work went with it. So the New Year was miserable - a year's work gone in a second.

My arm has become so bad that a solid plastic truss rod has been inserted down the length of my padded splint to stop me from bending the arm - my arm has to be outstretched at all times. You can't drink beer and eat a pepper steak pie at the same time like that - more misery.

Anyway - my three wonderful step daughters all happened to be in our house at the same time - (the eldest lives in her own place, the middle one is never here (always with friends) so to have all three here at the same time is really pretty rare). But I thought 'damn it to hell! Get yourself dressed up lassies and we'll go spend an hour taking pictures of you all together'
The wisest (the youngest), asked how I intended to hold a camera when I can't hold a beer and a steak pie?
"Coz I'm taking this damned truss rod out!"

And off we went to the bushland.

To be honest - I was delighted with the results...

And then Brenna decided to turn the camera on me lol - I had no idea how much this illness had aged me until I saw this - I was horrified, but what the hell - just wait and see the difference in two weeks time (oh and I hadn't shaved coz I can't use my other hand to pull my skin tight lol - not because I was just lazy)...

This is titled 'old tramp living in the woods...'

Thanks to my wife's genius with 'techy' things - I now have a working lap top again, my work has been rescued, I've e-mailed it all to myself, my surgery is 5 days away - things are getting better :)

Rory

This is Major Tom to Ground Control...

Don't ask - It's been terrible. Ok, ask. No, no need, I'll tell you.
Life has been ****.
I spend every day in a drug induced stupor, by night time I want to cry with the pain - and to cap it all my keyboard stopped working so I couldn't access my desktop because I can't enter anything in the password section to get into my lap top.
"Not to worry" thinks I. Once my surgery is over I can fix it all. Yeah right, what a stupid naive idiot I can be sometimes.

Thanks to my brainy wee wife she worked out that Windows 7 has an on screen keyboard which means I can sit here and 'click' - (the click button still works) - each and every letter I need to get on line and then try to access speech to text to get things moving again (Please note that on the blue password screen there's a white icon down bottom left which leads to an on-screen keyboard should you ever have a dead keyboard). So here I am, angry, frustrated, annoyed, stupefied and absolutely raging at our run of bad luck.

Last week I fasted before my surgery. I did everything I was supposed to do - had an iodine soaked shower the night before, looked out clean underwear, brushed my teeth and packed my wee bag ready to leave for my 6:45 am surgery. At midnight the hospital called me to cancel the surgery - the surgeon had taken ill.

It's now rescheduled for the 13th.

I still haven't got speech to text up and running properly (It keeps giving me my daughter's speech files and not my own as the files have been corrupted while I've been trying to fix the keyboard problem ) so this is a 'point and click' post which has taken me forever to make appear.

"Ground control to Major Tom your circuit's dead, there's something wrong..."
"So here...am I floating in my tin can, Far above the Moon,
Planet Earth is Blue and there's nothing I can do...."

Not in a good mood - and have been missing you all. No one to grump at but the kids. I sincerely hope everything is well with you all down there on the Blue planet.

Rory

Damn it to hell - I think I might be a Christian...

Very often I read that people have given up asking 'The big questions'. No one cares anymore - 'Why are we here? What's the purpose?' are questions suffocated beneath the oppression of a debt ridden, commodity filled life. I disagree.

If my life has been anything it has been a constant quest for truth, or knowledge which could at least point in a direction leading to truth. This will get heavy so bear with me please...

I like Dawna Lee over at Dawna Lee - Because it Matters because she makes me think, and think hard upon questions which I was comfortable in believing I had answers for. Until I try to articulate them then realise they fall apart - My wee comfort zone goes up in flames and I seek solace in reading more sociology texts. Marx has all the answers, until I spot a few holes in there and flames lick once more. That's ok, Weber or even Giddens will have the answers, maybe Durkheim or Kant or even Thomas Paine and the list goes on...and my answers fall through the holes reality tends to punch in theory.

I've read just about every Bible in existence, or every copy of every scroll which led to the Bible - I've read them in Hebrew, I've read them in Greek, I've read them in Aramaic, Latin, I've even tracked down fragments which are thought to be the earliest known copies of particular scripture, I've read every English translation I could lay my hands on and my budget would stretch to - and I haven't done so in search of some religious truth - I did so from the viewpoint of social and political history. The Bible (as we have it today) is a hate filled monstrosity filled with prejudice and violence. Yet it is presented as 'The unerring word of God' by many who fill our churches every Sunday. My Daughter was a bit on the wild side last week - Maybe I should have done as instructed in the Bible and just told her 'Sorry Brenna but I now have to take you to the outer walls of the city and have you stoned to death.' Deuteronomy 21:18-21

Of course it's monstrous, cruel and absurd - though some Christians will defend it by saying 'But in the context of the times it was God's will; though we no longer have to do such things thanks to Jesus'. They fail to see that even in the context of the times it was monstrous, cruel and absurd. There are any number of texts within the Bible which display such monstrous cruelty. That's when one realises that the Bible is not the infallible words of God - it is the fallible words of men. Each scripture was carefully selected and compiled to convey a construct which best suited the purpose of the men of the times - before those who sat at the council of Nicaea in 325 in particular, canonized those parts they deemed worthy. They threw out all scripture they disagreed with leaving us with the Bible as we know it today. Much of the nonsense which appears in the Bible is something a good historian can prove to be nonsense using no more than logic, alternative contemporary sources, forensic techniques and computer aided software (See Robin Lane Fox 'The Unauthorised Version' - Fact and fiction in the Bible). His book has nothing whatever to do with the spiritual messages contained in the Bible and everything to do with historical fact and fiction. But as he pulls at one thread, then almost inevitably another becomes loose before the entire garment threatens to fall apart.

So what to believe if looking for something to satisfy that burning question of 'Why are we here?' which resides inside us all. Well for years now I've been a 'Dawkins' man - There is no God, we were an accident waiting to happen...but please bear with me just a moment longer...

Some years ago I was invited to attend a seminar held by a South American Catholic Priest. So radical, so challenging was his view of Christianity that no less than the Secretary of State for Scotland attended along with all the highest representatives of every church in Scotland. The Priest stepped on stage and never have I seen such squirming and discomfort among dignitaries - He opened with "Listen carefully to what I have to say - I will not get the chance to come back and repeat it. Maybe a year, maybe two years from now, I will be dead. I will be murdered by my own Government or my own church - whichever I displease most, the quickest."

In less than a year he had been assassinated by the Government of Chile. I'm ashamed to say that as I write this I have forgotten his name - but his message lives on....

"You are important in Scotland yes?" He asked, pointing a finger at the Secretary of State. The packed audience laughed..."And you? And you? And you?" he continually asked working his way along the front row. "You guys are obviously important in the Church?" He laughed as he said it pointing to some in the front row who were clearly Cardinals or Archbishops dressed in their finery.
"Even without the fancy clothes I know this because you are in the front row. Most of you will have fine lives and few worries. As we move back through the theatre we'll find some kind of grading system in place - with poor students no doubt sitting up there in the back row, maybe there is a leper? Or a blind man? Is that what to be Christian means? To put the most important in society first and leave everyone else feeling second class? You dignitaries and important people are here today because you want to know about God, about Jesus and the message I am spreading in South America. But how can you hear it when your starting point is 'I'm more important than some others in society'. Being closer to the stage may make you hear better - being farther away makes you listen more."

I remember he pointed to a Cardinal or Archbishop and mocked him saying "Why are you wearing all these fancy clothes? Did Jesus have fancy clothes? Was Jesus adorned with gold round his neck and carry a Gold walking stick? You do it because you are saying to people "I am the Church and the Church is important therefore I am important - I say 'No' you're not any more important than the leper or the blind man if there is one in the back row. And it is your duty if you are called to God to ensure that he or she has everything you can give them to make their lives better. You won't do that by wearing gold around your neck or dressing in fancy clothes. Already you are saying to that person 'Look at me, I am important' when you should be saying 'My son or my daughter, where the church is concerned you are the important one here - now what can I do for you and how quickly do you need it done?' I am sure that if someone has a burning issue in their heart and telephone's your house of god you'll tell them 'I'm a busy man so I can't actually fit you in until next month' Is that what Jesus would do? Would he say 'Sorry Amigo but my diary is full of stuff which is more important than you?" He straightened up from his wandering around the stage before bellowing "NOTHING is more important than the poorest man or woman who comes to seek the aid of God. NOTHING! Not the church, not the Priest, not the time, not the place - NOTHING! In the parishes of the churches all over Scotland tonight there are women being beaten, there are men with no work and no hope, there are children who are starving and abused - HOW DARE YOU say to them - 'Oh I'll speak to you next week, or, I'll find a space in my diary' and HOW DARE YOU be so vain as to think that wearing fine robes and gold somehow makes their lives better - it makes YOUR life better, it makes you feel good, it makes you feel important in which case you'd be better employed at Exxon or any other multi national company."

I was totally enchanted by his views - not enough to become a Christian though because of the hatred and bile to be found in the Bible. Being cut off from the internet this last week was frustrating and it brought back so many memories I had forgotten about and also gave me some time to think on those 'big questions' again - when reconnected I went on a hunt around the internet for some political/religious/social/spiritual explanations for discrimination which Dawna Lee frequently asks questions about on her blog...My wife actually found this guy for me....A Clergyman with the balls to say 'The Bible and the Church is a vile piece of work - but there is an underlying goodness to be found there if you can just get rid of the crap.'

There is a brief few comments he makes - which just totally took me back to that lecture theatre - I might go looking for God again - Sorry Dawkins, you were good - but you never did quite answer everything...this guy might just have the edge...Short video to give you the flavour of the man - a longer video with one of the finest lectures I have heard in many, many years...If Dawna Lee has the stomach for the second video -for me it answers many of the questions you pose....

Hell as an Invention of the Church

The Burke Lecture

Is it Ok to scream now?

I had just written my last blog post - I'd fixed my splints in such a way that I could type again - life was good, I'd got a date for my surgery and it was full speed ahead.
My wife reluctantly applied the brakes.
"I'm glad you're sitting down honey" She said.
I smiled, "Why what's up?"
"I'm afraid I have some rather bad news"
My smile disappeared. 'No' I thought, 'Not my my surgery date being changed, please, please don't be anything as drastic as that. Please don't tell me the hospital called and said my arm couldn't be saved'
Sadly, it was worse than that.
"I don't quite know how to tell you darlin'..." she said solemnly, "But...well...the router is broken and there's no internet until we get it fixed or get a new one."

For over a week now I've been surrounded by real life, pushing in and oppressing me. I walked lonely and distraught around the garden vainly seeking YouTube, Facebook, the blogs of my friends, hell I would have happily read the home pages of the British Government but nature has yet to tune into the new reality. Curse you beauty and normality. I saw so much of my kids that I can name each one by sight now, I can even find my way to the bathroom without being given directions.

Last night the new router was set up - and tentatively I say (so as not to tempt fate) I'm back on line...

My life support has been switched on again :)

Rory

My Misery Is Complete - The Adventures of 'Daggy Man'

Like most folks, I scrub up quite well. Pass me in the street and yes, even though I say so myself, you would think 'Oh, he must be a Corporate Executive'. On the other hand however I do a good impression of a bum, a hobo, a derro, a dag - and far from saying the above you'd find yourself handing me a dollar to go feed myself or buy a cheap bottle of wine. Truth is, there is no in between  - I'm either highly polished or 'Daggy Man'.

Scrubbed up - this is me...

Without the polish this is me...

Actually the second picture is not really me - It's a bum of a character called 'Onslow' from a British TV series. But when my wife starts calling me 'Onslow' around the house, I know the slide has to stop...too often recently I've been Onslow.

Now what has this got to do with my Grandmother breaking wind I hear you ask? Or at least you should be, because that's where we're heading just shortly...first however...

You all know we have a Cat and four new kittens at home, you all know that my left arm is a useless, pain filled, Velcro covered mess. It's hard shaving with one hand, you can't pull facial skin tightly to get a good clean shave - and electric razors only serve to make my facial hair longer - they pull at the hair without actually cutting it - less frequent shaving these days - and so the 'Onslow Syndrome' sets in...

Anyway, the Cat and the Dog had their first real spat the other day - Cat went for Dog, Dog went for Cat and I got between them both - I wear my spectacles with a string around my neck - the Dog got a paw in one side of the string, the Cat a claw in the other and hey presto - they snapped the leg and frame of my specs and the lenses flew out.

They were irreparable, or so I thought, enter my daughter Brenna from stage left. 

"We've got white sticky tape somewhere. I can wind it round the frame and lenses. Then use a marker pen to colour it black".

I was right - they were irreparable.

And so I sit here today typing this with Joe90 specs on, only they look like a pair made by a kid in Kindergarten. Imagine the image below but made up of coloured-in, taped up specs, and you'll get the idea.

And so I find myself being unable to wear them in public without risking an outbreak of laughter as contagious as swine flu. My misery was complete - or so I thought.

I had to visit the pharmacy for more pills - Spectacles firmly in pocket I strode through the shopping precinct and to all intents and purposes looked like someone who could see where they were going - then it happened. The shame of it still haunts me as I write this. 

I involuntarily broke wind. 

Now this is something I never, ever, ever, ever do. I'm a Gentleman, I don't break wind in public places or in the company of others. I froze. Hesitantly, I took one more step forward and another ripper let loose. It was synchronized farting - timed perfectly to coincide with each step.  What could I do? 

That's when I remembered my dear departed Grandmother. She lived with us and had a dignity and elegance about her which not even breaking wind could dent. Whenever she rose from a chair the loudest, longest fart ever would ensue, the canary would be upturned in its cage, the Dog would have that 'Wasn't me' look on its face, and everyone would look up wondering when it would end. But she carried on with dignity and grace as though nothing had happened. I resolved to do likewise.

And so sounding like someone with squeaky shoes I strode up to the Pharmacy counter to pick up my pills. The girl who works there is a pretty young thing who knows me by name.

"Hi Rory."

"Hi there Elspeth" I said - a little more loudly than usual just to distract her from any other sounds in the vicinity.

Pointing to a fuzzy piece of paper on the desk she said, "All ready, you just have to sign here."

I'd forgotten about the 'signing'. Doing it with one hand was hard enough, doing it with no specs was impossible. I had no choice - I had to pull my specs from my pocket and quickly throw them on with my head tilted downward in the hope she couldn't see. 

Something was wrong. 

At first I thought maybe it was the sudden change from fuzziness to clarity which was playing havoc with my eyes. And so I looked up to focus on something else to 'correct' my vision. It was then I realised that with two rolls of sticky tape wrapped around my specs I was staring at Elspeth with a bus ticket, a peppermint and a little alien on a key ring all firmly stuck to my spectacles. I quickly signed, grabbed my pills and squeaked my way out the door.

My misery was complete.

I now respond to the name 'Onslow'.

PS - I see the anaesthetist on Tuesday for working out how to knock me out come surgery time - Thanks to my wife who did what I couldn't do -  She hassled the hospital into coming up with a date for my surgery - Jan 30th. It's not ideal but at least it is now a firm date!

Thanks to all who have been writing - will catch up with you today! A real heartfelt thanks as it's been a difficult period.

Rory