What ifs log • 2

In our world you cannot love

Without breaking someone’s heart

And someone cannot be fulfilled without breaking yours.

How we love our heartache is the way we are.

In our world it is impossible not to have seen, desired or craved,

Something that couldn't be yours that you loved and held dear,

Until that feeling was lost and rejection set in.

Desire and rejection both rule this world.

But rejection is overpowering all that we could've loved.

There may come a time too soon, when people would not die of disease but expire through the unbearable demise, disappointment and desperation of our half-elected leaders, that cancel day-by-day the word PEACE.

Investing in destruction, in the lives war defrauds for the sake of the 'war economy', could kill many with its burden, anguish, destitution and forceful giving up on a peaceful life that is demolished and turned into rubble and waste.

You cannot rule the world and then pretend, where your humanity is concerned you cannot do nothing about the consequences of the wars you wage.

You cannot rule the world and then pretend, the gap between the wars and that of PEACE is not growing there, unless you cancelled peace, before your war began.

Wars are many, PEACE is only ONE for all – the very neutering and dissolution of the divide, suppress and conquer rule.

We find pain in pleasure, too often than not,

And then, we take pleasure in pain.

As agency we can be sure of,

In the nature of the Darwinism we have bought.

A sickness, that aims, to surround us, all.

How many of us can say we live in A world we want to live in, at least half the time?

As long as such figure remains in the womb unknown

life feels and looks more and more like an open-ended compromise

where we have to abort or kill our innocence

in a world we do not believe in, or trust nor are happy to join or be part of...

This is the main achievement of a new millennium

of mass compromise, liberal servitude and high-stakes genocide and crime.

Some people create Hell for others on Earth yet they expect Heaven for themselves...

The only privilege famous people don’t have today or can’t indulge is not to be corrupted, corrupting or having to corrupt.

That’s where the pretend facade breaks and fakery begins with the insatiable traffic of influence and greed.

Some people are too famous for the greater good of humanity where so many are getting poorer and too many remain anonymously poor and unseen.

Where the famous can’t indulge any humanity, only more recognition, more money, more wealth, more show and the corruption that is on parade as entitlement of their greed. So 'the famous' would be swapped with 'the rich'.

To the naked eye today most of the history of American cinema and TV is about telling a story about something and then about something else, while deflecting the story should be about something other at best we get a glimpse of on our screens.

That’s what they call entertainment and why the genres of escapist cinema share the rigid rule to be obeyed: to tell stories about something and something else than about something other that is close. 

We are starved to watch something other that is not something else on our silver screens, where Hollywood actors fail to be the other that is close and do not stop pretending they are more something else.

Take 'Oppenheimer' a movie more about something that is something else that is American than a story to be told about something other than the bomb was a necessary achievement of great minds. That other in the light of its use, that has followed us up to today. Or, the very opposite of something other that is 'Sound of Freedom'.

Now that we know truth has always been relative as the philosophers told us, we’re forced to ignore IT and live or die by the good versus evil dichotomy of state oppression.

This comicstrip mindset reasons, being killed in France by the police is not the same with with being killed in Iran by the police. One only happens in a democracy because you are bad, the other in a dictatorship because where you are good and unlucky to live there.

In the good versus evil comicstrip world, if you are unlucky to be killed by the police means you were bad for democracy, or too good for dictatorship.

The relative truth in that is, the send-off in both is, and should be, with a bigger bang!

What's not said by those who speak in times of war,

it's more important than what's said.

It's not about reading between the lines of war,

but realising what's 'not used', 'ignored' or 'killed'!

Then grasping why they didn't say it?

Message to a fb migrant - 

You clearly suffer of the syndrome know as 'the grass is greener on the other side’. You don't see the grass that grows under you feet. In your current country you have a more relaxed attitude to life. Sun, warm weather, friendly people, a sea that you can swim in, good food - things that actually mean a lot for a healthy life, including that the music is not Adele at the pub.

To some extent you still can own a place under that sun such as a home, a flat or a space, something almost impossible in England currently as migrant or native. You also get better value for the same money that is why there are so many expats there.

What you interprete as 'freedom to be cool' in Britain comes from indifference not tolerance to who you are unless you are with the in-crowd that monopolises the English mindset. To that length, the freedom to be cool doesn't translate into character - it is just a facade, a dress or a cover, a way to pretend, a ploy to get something or someone on your side, by means of snobbish hypocrisy not honesty. 

People with purple hair in TODAY’s Britain do not have purple ideas. They have the same old ideas like English managers do: to use you as much as they can for as little benefit to you as possible. This indifference usually translates into something worse in the long run when you learn how many older people are alone, sick and lost in England.

The Brits care more about their pets than all the migrants drowned in the channel – and that has been going on for years. Nothing positive is done but you can always be sure someone would say something racist about the recent 'batch of people’ that drowned and no one will mind, because they don't really mind.

That says almost everything about how port-Brexit Britain tastes and feels like, it feels like a big swindle. Yet I still have to mention the war mongering that goes on abroad, the police being institutionally racist and on steroids or the nostalgia over the great buried-but-not-dead empire that is up 2000 fold.

The only advantage there seem to be is that once you have lived with the British indifference towards anything remotely cool or political – excluding football, pets or telly – and once you've been preached for a few years that the 'sun never sets' on English virtues and/or duty, you can for sure live almost anywhere in the world.

Some can cynically say here is resilience, but I know there is a lot more left unreconciled and forced on the migrant. You are compelled to 'not mind' that your neighbours are probably racist, that their kids are very likely bullies, to accept them as tolerant at heart although they voted Brexit gladly while they may charge you an extortionate rent and not allow you to have pets while they enjoy at least two of them. 

I suppose we can go on forever. Me saying this you saying that... ultimately it is what you prefer or are forced to accept, like the bed you’ve made. No sun, no beach, no swimming until late, no partying in exchange for a bit more money in your pocket, slightly better social security and some free healthcare, and... the feeling that this society uses people with impunity until they are completely exhausted and powerless and then spits them out like discarded packaging. 

You seem to be nostalgic for the green grass mowed down a long long time ago that doesn't grow in England anymore. Since Tatcher and then Blair all they care about is charging the poor rent and the price of daily wine with a few jokes thrown in on the telly to console you. Just the opposite if you are in a country where you can afford to go to the beach, buy some fresh fish on the way home and cook something nice.

For most migrant now, the grass CAN ONLY be greener on the other side, never where we are… until we finally learn how old this Britain or Europe is in its mentalities, and what can and does happen here.

What if all happiness in the 'for-profit' world, is the result of others' misery, pain or betrayal!

The unhappiness of many others seem to be the happiness of the few with the power to pretend not to see it, or know it is key.

Whether you are suffering or ecstatic or both you know where you are on the spiral of happiness...at the end of days, where you feel like a god or you are gliding in between. 

Gorby, turned out to be the man who sold the world, our world, to the other side. We were all ecstatic with anticipation in 1989 because it meant we would see, get to know and enjoy the other side.

That in the name of peace, prosperity and brotherhood of men that proved like most things Western to be one sided and made of nothing too robust but silicone and TV. 

Like any man who sold the world he lived long enough to see the deal fail... his own people hurt...the future plundered, distorted, uncertain. Such is the destiny of man, that of Gorby as humanist political dreamer.

That's probably why the West produces bland politicians that best lie, brag and destroy.. On aggregate they are more effective  and atuned to consumerism to win the day any day than the dreamers that have to be put down when they may inherit the world.

Ghislaine Maxwell: The Making of a Monster suggest a 'documentary' that was put through the self-censorship strainer, and ALL that was immorally fluid, debatable and tied to a complex reality felt drained on purpose. Three-parters used to leave no 'iceberg' unturned below the mainstream floating line.

Visible similarities with other known 'sexual predators' of our time, like Harvey Weinstein, were clearly off-limits, as if they abused their privileges on different planets, not the same country, the same period and for about the same length of time, not to mention the unmentionable. This doc only peeks into the boxes we all know, to piece the convenient narrative together that makes Ghislaine monstrously devoted to a sexual beast but not to prince Andrew. The general feel is, this documentary maker is as lazy and corrupted as the lifestyle journalists, and we shouldn't demand more than some light preaching from the height of a morally damaged media soapbox, overloaded for this or that occasion with the floated facts, replayed on a loop. 

Documentaries on tv have become over the past 20 years more and more a celebration of self-censorship that is as old as the BBC – very close to 100.  What better way to show support for this concoction of the Western 'public service commissioner'  than to synch with Orwell's 'ministry of love newspeak’ and turn it into an unwritten, half-ethical law in the workplace, not to be left out of a job. Let's just recall the Guardian Club in Soho where so many were shocked a few years back when Assange was speaking of things they wouldn't dare think of, write about, or investigate - where are they now and where is Assange now?

The argument being, as long as they are rewarded with a good job, most documentary makers embrace self-censorship and support it freely, and as good hypocrites do call it by a different name of necessity. Having a family and a mortgage, probably is not something they would mention but, sticking to the frigid facts and floating Ghislaine as a monster in the sky, since all the men in her life got away – is something they would think and do nicely. 

Let's agree to disagree then that every British documentary maker should be ethically obliged to tell us in the end titles how much they value their own job title over work if not how high a mortgage they’ve got. That at least would make self-censorship partly excusable and in turn would cover for the investigation they are not prepared to do and the risks they would not take for the love of something or other similar.

The sexual prerogatives that endowed Bond movies in the 60s and 70s are replayed today in a cinematic ritual akin to narcissistic masturbation. Bond the actor performs the same ritual on Bond, oblivious he’s re-enacting a narcissistic phantasy where the main paradigm shift are the upgraded sex toys and soundbites and the new additions to his harem of women. Any new or old Bond movie won’t take exception to that for the reason that’s all Bond knows and he’s been doing for 60 years. Read more...