Friday 22 December 2023

Winter 2023/24

Winter 2023/24

Winter is the season of dying. Cleansing the vermin of rats and fleas. This time last year I was ill. I had gotten a young puppy earlier in the year. His energy seemed insatiable. I'd take him for a walk and when we got back he would want my attention. Dropping his toys by my feet and chewing my socks. If I lay down and pretended to be asleep he would see past my fakery and jump up, landing on my stomach and groin with pinpoint feet. Some seven kilos by now it was not an insignificant weight. These play sessions would last for four hours or more until I gave in and took him out again.
And I felt aware of my mortality. As the winter cold saw clean through my pretence of layered winter clothing. I was, after all, just a naked man underneath.
One time last year I took my car in to the garage for some minor repair. I left work early and caught them as they were closing up. They handed me the keys and were gone by the time I was sat down ready to drive home. I turned the key and felt a ripple of panic as I heard a click and silence. The mechanic had left the radio on and run the battery flat. I heard the sound of rain hit the windscreen thrown by the wind. Perhaps there was someone I could ring to help me jump start the car. Thank god for mobile phones and their storage of collected numbers. I reached to my pocket and pulled out my phone, opening up the screen in habitual manner. The numb blur of messages met my eyes as I scrambled about for my glasses. Bollocks! I'd left them at work on my bench. Maybe I could walk to find someone with a car to help me. I began walking in the wind and rain in my old boots that soon began to squelch and rub blisters on my heels. But I couldn't think of anyone remotely close that I could ask for help. I stopped and reflected on my situation. I'm still just about able to walk the twelve or so miles home. I felt vulnerable. A weak old man. The winter will soon be too much for me. It will take me out and younger people will bury me. Cleaning up after the mess I have become.


Sent from my iPhone

Saturday 18 November 2023

Wall hung piece with no title

Oak antlers. Brown oak branches that had died and naturally seasoned at the top of an oak tree, climbed up and cut them down.
Ebony offcuts from a flute maker for the thorns. Arguably these pieces could have been used to make flute parts but I used them just the same. African black wood some call it.
Box made from oak. Textured using powerful alcaline chemicals normally used for cleaning drains. Wire brush scrubbed and bleached to create a sea washed look.
I think I might have called it overgrowth or something like that

Skree age 19

Sunday 5 November 2023

Chapter 4: mi5. 21century Witchfinders. The Royal Family. Free Masons…

Chapter 4: mi5. 21century Witchfinders. The Royal Family. Free Masons. High rank Police and the Hammer.

How many people a year die in police custody every year. It is easy to keep a person alive while they are in your care. Get them a drink, some food, a toilet, a sink and somewhere to sleep. Yet somehow 2000 people on average, a year die whilst in police custody. But perhaps we should not place all the blame on the men and women who have to do the dirty work. And why are certain individuals deemed so dangerous to the status quo that they must be eliminated. The last official Witchfynders were given their registration under king James and these were few. Times were changing and the enlightenment had seen reason and the scientific method find societal consensus begin to look upon Witchfynders as superstitious. The last witch to be officially burned to death was Janet Horne. Her daughter had misshapen feet used for riding towards the devil with. She bravely escaped but her mother was not so fortunate. The upstanding Christian townsfolk smeared her in tar, paraded her through the town on a barrel before burning her alive.
As times changed witchfynding as a practice grew more secretive and though Witchfynders found themselves becoming less overt their number never truly disappeared. Dwindled, yes and those remaining synthesised to a secretive body known of only by those who held the real power. Royalty knew. As did the spooks who today are known as MI5 and 6. The establishment has retained some two dozen Witchfynders led by the Witchfynder general. It's true there were no more public mass executions like those carried out by Edward Hopkins who hanged 19 witches in one session. Instead this secretive department of the state continued its business in disappearings where suspected witches simply disappeared. A recent case found a dog and a mobile phone on a bench by a small shallow river. Despite the river being searched in great detail no body was found. Two weeks later, in a spot numerous people had gone by a body was finally discovered. Little information came out on its condition nor any explanation as to why it had not been spotted by police or members of the public who had initiated mass searches. More simply the number of people who die in mysterious circumstances whilst in police custody rarely causes media outrage.
Science has moved on since the days of Edward Hopkins when a wider public awareness of witchcraft was about. Culture began to embrace a more scientific and logical understanding of humanity. The unexplained was soon assumed to be subject to natural law and ultimately all could be thought to one day submit to human understanding. Yet consciousness, the one singular thing we know to exist continues to baffle the neuroscientists whose scanners and tests have delivered virtually nothing as to how matter can think and feel. Despite this complete absence of any clue as to the essence of being a belief still remains, through our hubris, that one day we will crack the hard problem of consciousness.
Who really runs the country. Governments come and go like football players and managers but the clubs continue. The government are analogous to our politicians who rise in popularity and fall just so easily as the players and coaches the fans love and hate. But they could all be swept away and the country would continue to run. MI5, MI6, our national and international intelligence agencies. GCHQ in Cheltenham scanning all communications to protect the country. Most people are happy these are there to protect us from terrorists and to give them their credit they have been brilliantly successful in nipping terrorist activities in the bud. Also an aristocracy of land owners that finds its summit in the royal family has been in control since 1066. The fallings out and inter family politics has continued for close to a millennium but has remained largely private and unseen by the lower orders bar the odd passing scandal such as when the misguided matching of the future king to an outspoken girl. Divorce and a tv interview that opened up far too much to a changing public may have been allowed to take place. Martin Bashiers interview with Dianne Spencer opened the eyes of the public to a secretive world but her subsequent relationship with a non Christian from beyond the tight circle left little option for the royal family. Her execution was messy but perhaps appropriate for someone who spent much of her time courting and rejecting the press in equal measure. Her suspicions car crash in a tunnel in France whilst being followed by paparazzi and the failure to get her to a hospital for two hours left her dead and no longer a problem to the family with a long history of beheading any provocateurs who sought to reveal secrets to the greater public.
Moving on Charles married his childhood sweetheart and found happiness. His enthusiastic support of environmental causes gave him popularity in contemporary culture. His talking to plants, his writing curiosity in the supernatural was slowly played down as his mother aged. Following his coronation , unknown to the public, among his earliest moves was to gather together the country's few remaining Witchfynders. Rupert Bunsen had been a close friend as had a number of those who perished in the destruction of his spaceship that was called by Bunsen the Noah project. Indeed he had one of the highly sought after tickets and but for the timing of his mother's death and his ascension to the throne he would have been amongst those bodies that littered the sea following the destruction of Noah. News had soon spread that only witchcraft could have prevented Bunsens dream. Witchcraft was afoot once again. King Charles was soon in contact with MI5 and the Witchfynders were summoned.
Henry Bennett worked most of the time in finance. His frame, however was not what most would imagine an office worker to have. A keen runner and a daily user of the gym before work kept him strong. At six foot five he towered above the MI5 people who had called again for his services. Few knew that he was the Witchfynder General, the title Edward Hopkins had created all those years ago. Rather like Albert Pierrepoint, the chief and most skilled hangman who worked prior to the abolition of hanging in 1964. Pierrepoints father and uncle had done the same work before him though he fine tuned the long drop technique they had developed. Looking at the size and physical condition of the man or woman to be executed he knew the precise length of rope that would snap a person's neck and cause instant death. Prior to this there had been people survive the drop if the rope was too short and the condemned too strong. Others were decapitated if the rope too long. Following Pierrepoints executions the bodies were left to hang for an hour before being taken down, cleaned and prepared for burial. Working in a number of jobs before becoming the landlord of a pub he would be called when needed, travel to the prison the night before, peep through the cell hatch to assess the length of rope needed for the job. The following morning he would carry out his work treating the condemned with respect and have them taken from the cell to the platform, stand them on the hatch, tie their arms to their sides with a leather belt, hood them and pull the leaver in a matter of seconds. It is estimated he hanged between 420 and 600 people in his career including 200 nazi war criminals. Numerous miscarriages of justice took place and it was this that ultimately led campaigners in succeeding to have the death penalty repealed. However the practice continues to take place in certain less advanced in thinking countries like Saudi Arabia and North America. By Though keeping his work secret from most he felt compelled to write an autobiography following a series of misconceptions about his work in the press.
In 1974 he wrote that the death penalty had been a folly. He said that there had been murders from the beginning of time and no penalty had ever been able to stop heinous crimes. Henry Bennett was similar in that he kept his work secret from friends and family however he was deeply enthusiastic in his work. The testing of witches was a science to him. Stripping the accused naked to find the nipple from where the witch suckled their demonic familiar using metal tools handed down from Witchfynder to Witchfynder from Hopkins day till now. Probing the suspect until his skilled eye had located the evidence of witch hood. The dunking chair of old had been modernised to a tank but the principal was the same. And the burning was now largely carried out in furnaces which were heated slowly so the witch was able to renounce their commitment to Satan before they died.
Superstitious thinking hadn't changed. No understanding of witches had ever developed. Witches existed but these ideas of alliance with the devil and nipples for feeding familiars was ignorant idiocy. A Christian perception imbedded in establishment thinking. Nevertheless, unbeknownst to the public witches were still being executed by Witchfynders and often for no reason and frequently in more torturous ways. This evil and secret department of the state has been part of the establishment and the country's rulers for centuries. For a normal person to grasp the reason is all but impossible but it lies in a patriarchal society that has always been suspicious and afraid of the female. Indeed men had built the world we live in; its roads and buildings, provided shelter and protection. But wars are the work of men. Violent crime is the preserve of men bar the rare oddity. The terrible violence against women evident in the extreme cases like Peter Sutcliffe but common in the domestic environment throughout the country. Rape within marriage was until recently legal and still less than 1% of reported rapes lead to a conviction The protesters who came out following the murder of Sarah Everard by the police man Wayne Couzens were treated brutally by the police though some were disgusted by his crime. We can only hope that the jailhouse justice of righteous inmates in prison will ultimately find this evil individual.
The prime minister and a few close advisers stood fearful and crestfallen. A couple had been deemed worthy by Rupert Bunsen and had seats on Noah. The PM had hoped for a last minute cancellation but hadn't been party to the details of when the take off was to take place. Two high ranking MI5 officials stood slightly apart but all were silent and scoobied as to what to do now the mission had been destroyed by a ragged bunch of mysterious individuals who had gathered together. Two shamans had been found to be the ringleaders but druids and witches the establishment had no prior knowledge of were involved too. Each of these….these terrorists? No. Subversives yes. Murderers all, must be eliminated and 'interrogated' before their death.
Without a knock the door opened and a figure that seemed to fill its frame entered.
"I'm guessing that this summons is serious enough to drag me away from my work"
The PM felt that it was up to him to speak to the imposing figure. "Indeed it is. Were you aware of the Noah project."
"I'd heard talk and rumours. A crazy project to my mind but a tragedy that so many of the wealthy and world leaders should die from the miscalculations of its engineers."
PM "Well no! It was not in fact technical problems that caused its destruction. In truth it attacked and sabotaged by some strange people, people who had not known each other a few weeks before the disaster. It is beyond my field of understanding but our intelligence sources have suggested that they were druids, shamans and witches."
At this Bennett an inner rage saw his face redden, his shoulders enliven his posture and a piercing stare focused first on the prime minister before scanning each person there to measure their manner. "If this is true it is the most serious gathering of those who stand against god and our saviour Jesus Christ that has happened in a century. Me and my men have killed some but these worshippers of trees and the devil himself are thought to be pretty much driven to the tips of the island and incapable of causing any real harm."
PM "I'm afraid we don't have much to go on. They stole a boat from Porlock Weir. We know they had some lunatic who claimed to be Jesus Christ among their number. The rest is just snippets retrieved from mobile phones gathered by the few who filmed the disaster. One is quite clear. There are voices that say "come on Lipton and Skree" as they rescue the two men in the water. We have no other names. There's some rambling nonsense about Jesse Presley, the dead twin of Elvis Presley who was buried shortly after his birth. I'm sure you are familiar with the old wives tales of demon conger eel hybrid creatures created by witches centuries ago . Well some parts were found and captured that were severed by the broken glass. It appears the old wives were right. We've been able to put these broken parts, heads and tails that are still moving. In fact since we moved them in protective tanks away from the disaster area and into our laboratories they have grown stronger and our scientists are growing scared."
Bennett "I must see these abominations immediately and they must be destroyed swiftly. It's madness to think your scientists are able to cope with even fragments of demon."
pM "Of course general"
Bennett's demeanour had completely dominated the room. Those who spoke did so apologetically and called him sir.
Bennett "I have been aware of Skree and Lipton for some time but have never been able to completely work out if they are in league with satan or not. We have kept a watch but both have seemed to be on the poverty line, both have been sectioned at times under thee mental health act, this led me to think they were no threat."
PM "Well from what little we know they were the architects of this act of terrorism and whether they are mystics or satanist matters not. Kill them. There were some women, undoubtedly witches seen by the sole survivor. What she describes is beyond natural law. There were a few others too. These were casualties of their own hideous actions. We have the bodies but as yet we don't know who they are."
Bennett "I will take over now. My team of Witchfynders will track down and burn them alive for God and his glory. I will need everything you have. I must begin my work now."
PM "indeed sir. Anything at all you need just ask and it's yours. And purely out of interest could you forward me film of their executions. It's important I see the evil destroyed in the name of our good lord. Thank you."
With this the Witchfynder general turned and left. A lunatic who believes he is Christ! The deluded fool, he thought. When Christ returns he will be known across Christendom not hiding away, colluding with devil worshippers. And that Skree and his mate Lipton. Both homeless drug addicts most of the time with mental illnesses. How on earth could they have conducted an act of terror on a par with 9:11? For a fleeting second his mind made a link, 'didn't Christ hang out with the homeless'? But the thought was soon gone. His church was always full and attended by drivers of expensive modern cars. The homeless only had themselves to blame. And the female witches. He had always taken the greatest pleasure in stripping them and closely studying their bodies to find the teet the demons suckled from. And his manhood never failed to rise and point to the lord above as they burned. Indeed he had often stroked his shaft through the fold in his cassock, cradling his testicles, slowly opening the fold to show the witch how it pointed to heaven and as his self caress reached the holy level his seed would explode skyward and fall before the flames. This time he would have the witches kneel before him and bathe the sword of righteousness in the waters of their mouths and clutch their heads close as the righteous semen cleansed their insides before the burning.







Sent from my iPhone

Tuesday 31 October 2023

SLADE ~ READING FESTIVAL 1980 ~ remastered fm

https://youtu.be/edes7Lm3TB0?si=IFSO5YNogWhNIb4g

I was here. First festival I went to. Slade filled in for Ozzy who wasn't ready yet with his new band after leaving Sabbath. I was blessed to witness the return of the greatest live band of all time. Slade.
Sent from my iPhone

Monday 23 October 2023

Legal highs/Research Chemicals 2

Legal highs/Research Chemicals 2

Before the UK legislation of 2015 each drug or substance was treated separately using a questionable class system. Heroin, cocaine etc being class A, cannabis I believe was then class B and an incredibly dangerous drug, Valium was class C. And each substance had to be specified with the legal consequences for possession and supply. Yet for example with the benzodiazepine family, during their development, numerous other similar drugs were created and never put in to production. Consequently flourazepam, diclazepam and all the others that were chemically very close were in fact legal.
Further to these already synthesised compounds chemists were now making subtle chemical modifications to MDMA producing another family of chemicals that were targeted at and sold to those who enjoyed taking ecstasy. Another substance that found wide popularity, and the first to be banned was mephadrone. Here was a drug cheaper and given the poor quality cocaine at the time that became very popular. Once this became illegal chemists began changing molecules to create a whole plethora of cathenones of varying quality. This race between the law makers and the chemists created something of a race to the bottom as with the safer substances becoming unavailable, chemists created less tested and more dangerous stimulants. Another family of stimulants were the phenidates from the same family as Ritalin, methylphenidate. Ethylphenidate was legal and incredibly powerful yet highly corrosive. The rush from it intravenously trumped even meth amphetamine but burned the veins from the inside. Some lost limbs, some died. More concentrated even were the 4f methyl and ethylphenidates. Experimenters used to poor quality cocaine could trigger a heart attack with a similar sized line to that they may have chopped out on a weekend. These research chemicals were often of such high purity they were dangerous from that alone.
Fortunately for some researchers online forums sprung up where people could anonymously report and share advice. A surprising number had a good knowledge of chemistry and were able to advise on dose. Any sensible person would try small tests before taking it further. Online vendors would often offer samples of new products to trusted researchers who gave their reports back. These online communities tended to be intelligent people from academic backgrounds.
Another source of ideas came from Alexander Shulgins books. A happily married chemist who is something of a legend published two books listing the many psychoactive substances that he created. His reviews were often brief but provided enough for any entrepreneurial chemist so motivated to recreate. Living out in the sticks Shulgins name stands up in history alongside Hoffman, Huxley, Kesey and Leary etc. If you were able to make love on a new substance by his reckoning it was of value.
Ketamine had become a popular recreational drug in the noughts and slight adjustments in molecular detail opened up the possibility for other, legal dissociatives. Methoxphenidine and other darker variants became available.
All these drugs were legal and available to anyone with a computer and a bank card. Customers were asked for their age though no one ever checked if these purveyors of research chemicals gave their buyers great thought. As for the high street 'head' shops, the shops that sell pipes and bongs to cannabis users were beginning to find that the student psychonaut most imagined were their clientele were not the only ones that bought their products. Stocked with powerful stimulants and downers homeless addicts had taken advantage of cheaper, more powerful and what's more, legal alternatives to the crack and heroin that had previously been their drugs of choice. Shops often had cues waiting long before they opened desperate for drugs. This clearly wasn't going to escape the notice of the authorities. Having failed to keep up with the chemists who were one step ahead in producing new, usually more dangerous alternatives; criminalising individual compounds wasn't working. Soon the UK banned all substances that could alter a user's consciousness. Across the board from the academic explorers exchanging experiences online to the homeless addicts seeking cheap highs, all now found themselves unable to score. Many of the biggest purveyors moved their operations to Europe where each country had different laws. Over the next few years fewer countries were allowing this type of activity.
Perhaps the most interesting subset of the movement was the various new and rediscovered lysergamides that perhaps under no other circumstances would have ever become available to the psychonaut. Initially Al lad blotters of 150mc were popular. To my mind the greatest psychedelic of all time. A shorter trip of around five hours to acids seven or so. It has none of the dark corners LSD psylocibin has. Most who trip will know of an element of caution fearing that dreaded 'bad trips' tabloids might occur. With Al lad I never felt any need for caution. I'd say that of mushroom and acid trips only a dozen of well over 500 that I took over the years found me properly breaking through. The ego loss many speak of just isn't possible while holding on to the safety rails. To swim, to ice skate you need to throw caution to the wind and embrace the danger. Al lad allows this. I won't describe any trips here as it rarely conveys well or just doesn't translate into language. To make Al lad you must first make LSD and four fifths is lost in its creation. So who would throw away four fifths of their profit in changing a well known and popular drug into something few have heard of. Of the family there is also pro lad and eth lad to join Al lad and, what in these layman terms would be called meth lad.
In early 2015 prior to the Al lad ban there was a frenzy as those who treasured this marvellous creation tried to source and buy the diminishing stock. Lizard labs were the maker of this and numerous other psychedelics played a blinder. A day or two after the Al lad ban they unveiled a creation they'd secretly being working on. But for me its new 1pLSD was just like good acid. They moved into Europe where they developed several other new lysergamides. I've not tried them all but the ones I have tried, whilst being great quality lysergamides, don't match up to the greatest of all, Al lad. Back in the early 2010s they seemed a bit like the evangelical LSD chemists of 60s and 70s legend. Orange sunshine, Hoffmans pure Sandoz, pre Operation Julie acid; all made with a view to cause a revolutionary rise in human consciousness and not for profit.
Now, though they continue to create new exciting lysergamides and tryptamines along the lines of DMT, they also sell numerous benzodiazepines that can cause terrible harm in powerful and dangerous addiction.
I had long ago given up doing trips which I had done mainly in my teens. But one night I saw a documentary on the dangers of these new research chemicals or legal highs. It triggered a curiosity in me despite then being close to fifty years old. To be honest it really was a Wild West. For sure there were some real gems that under any other circumstances I would never have known. But there were some horrible and dangerous drugs that were easy to access and cheap. An online order like an Amazon one would see a discreet envelope or parcel arrive. There was a thrill to this alone. But what if a lax postman had put it through a door where children played. I also regained for a while a benzo addiction I'd not long got over. I spent a month in hallucinatory psychosis after overdosing on a strange dissociative. I must have done some damage to my heart and brain. I guess it needed to be brought under control. However it seems ironic that the only two drugs that have entered and remained in common circulation are arguably the two most dangerous. Spice has changed prison life being incredibly powerful, cheap and easy to smuggle in. The homeless scene has found that relatively steady heroin addicts have become spice zombies and many have died and all seem to agree that withdrawal is worse than heroin. And in Stoke, oddly, monkey dust, a smokable stimulant, like a cheaper crack with psychosis thrown in for good measure.
It is crucial that drug policy changes soon. Are prisons are bursting with addicts who otherwise would not be criminals. People are dying as gangsters are who decides what is there and at what price. Drug use has never been stopped by its criminalisation. Only by seeing it as the health issue it is and not the moral choice that 1950s middle class sensationalism deemed drug use will continue to ruin lives and cause untold crime and societal damage.


Sent from my iPhone

Legal highs/Research Chemicals 2

Legal highs/Research Chemicals 2

Before the UK legislation of 2015 each drug or substance was treated separately using a questionable class system. Heroin, cocaine etc being class A, cannabis I believe was then class B and an incredibly dangerous drug, Valium was class C. And each substance had to be specified with the legal consequences for possession and supply. Yet for example with the benzodiazepine family, during their development, numerous other similar drugs were created and never put in to production. Consequently flourazepam, diclazepam and all the others that were chemically very close were in fact legal.
Further to these already synthesised compounds chemists were now making subtle chemical modifications to MDMA producing another family of chemicals that were targeted at and sold to those who enjoyed taking ecstasy. Another substance that found wide popularity, and the first to be banned was mephadrone. Here was a drug cheaper and given the poor quality cocaine at the time that became very popular. Once this became illegal chemists began changing molecules to create a whole plethora of cathenones of varying quality. This race between the law makers and the chemists created something of a race to the bottom as with the safer substances becoming unavailable, chemists created less tested and more dangerous stimulants. Another family of stimulants were the phenidates from the same family as Ritalin, methylphenidate. Ethylphenidate was legal and incredibly powerful yet highly corrosive. The rush from it intravenously trumped even meth amphetamine but burned the veins from the inside. Some lost limbs, some died. More concentrated even were the 4f methyl and ethylphenidates. Experimenters used to poor quality cocaine could trigger a heart attack with a similar sized line to that they may have chopped out on a weekend. These research chemicals were often of such high purity they were dangerous from that alone.
Fortunately for some researchers online forums sprung up where people could anonymously report and share advice. A surprising number had a good knowledge of chemistry and were able to advise on dose. Any sensible person would try small tests before taking it further. Online vendors would often offer samples of new products to trusted researchers who gave their reports back. These online communities tended to be intelligent people from academic backgrounds.
Another source of ideas came from Alexander Shulgins books. A happily married chemist who is something of a legend published two books listing the many psychoactive substances that he created. His reviews were often brief but provided enough for any entrepreneurial chemist so motivated to recreate. Living out in the sticks Shulgins name stands up in history alongside Hoffman, Huxley, Kesey and Leary etc. If you were able to make love on a new substance by his reckoning it was of value.
Ketamine had become a popular recreational drug in the noughts and slight adjustments in molecular detail opened up the possibility for other, legal dissociatives. Methoxphenidine and other darker variants became available.
All these drugs were legal and available to anyone with a computer and a bank card. Customers were asked for their age though no one ever checked if these purveyors of research chemicals gave their buyers great thought. As for the high street 'head' shops, the shops that sell pipes and bongs to cannabis users were beginning to find that the student psychonaut most imagined were their clientele were not the only ones that bought their products. Stocked with powerful stimulants and downers homeless addicts had taken advantage of cheaper, more powerful and what's more, legal alternatives to the crack and heroin that had previously been their drugs of choice. Shops often had cues waiting long before they opened desperate for drugs. This clearly wasn't going to escape the notice of the authorities. Having failed to keep up with the chemists who were one step ahead in producing new, usually more dangerous alternatives; criminalising individual compounds wasn't working. Soon the UK banned all substances that could alter a user's consciousness. Across the board from the academic explorers exchanging experiences online to the homeless addicts seeking cheap highs, all now found themselves unable to score. Many of the biggest purveyors moved their operations to Europe where each country had different laws. Over the next few years fewer countries were allowing this type of activity.
Perhaps the most interesting subset of the movement was the various new and rediscovered lysergamides that perhaps under no other circumstances would have ever become available to the psychonaut. Initially Al lad blotters of 150mc were popular. To my mind the greatest psychedelic of all time. A shorter trip of around five hours to acids seven or so. It has none of the dark corners LSD psylocibin has. Most who trip will know of an element of caution fearing that dreaded 'bad trips' tabloids might occur. With Al lad I never felt any need for caution. I'd say that of mushroom and acid trips only a dozen of well over 500 that I took over the years found me properly breaking through. The ego loss many speak of just isn't possible while holding on to the safety rails. To swim, to ice skate you need to throw caution to the wind and embrace the danger. Al lad allows this. I won't describe any trips here as it rarely conveys well or just doesn't translate into language. To make Al lad you must first make LSD and four fifths is lost in its creation. So who would throw away four fifths of their profit in changing a well known and popular drug into something few have heard of. Of the family there is also pro lad and eth lad to join Al lad and, what in these layman terms would be called meth lad.
In early 2015 prior to the Al lad ban there was a frenzy as those who treasured this marvellous creation tried to source and buy the diminishing stock. Lizard labs were the maker of this and numerous other psychedelics played a blinder. A day or two after the Al lad ban they unveiled a creation they'd secretly being working on. But for me its new 1pLSD was just like good acid. They moved into Europe where they developed several other new lysergamides. I've not tried them all but the ones I have tried, whilst being great quality lysergamides, don't match up to the greatest of all, Al lad. Back in the early 2010s they seemed a bit like the evangelical LSD chemists of 60s and 70s legend. Orange sunshine, Hoffmans pure Sandoz, pre Operation Julie acid; all made with a view to cause a revolutionary rise in human consciousness and not for profit.
Now, though they continue to create new exciting lysergamides and tryptamines along the lines of DMT, they also sell numerous benzodiazepines that can cause terrible harm in powerful and dangerous addiction.
I had long ago given up doing trips which I had done mainly in my teens. But one night I saw a documentary on the dangers of these new research chemicals or legal highs. It triggered a curiosity in me despite then being close to fifty years old. To be honest it really was a Wild West. For sure there were some real gems that under any other circumstances I would never have known. But there were some horrible and dangerous drugs that were easy to access and cheap. An online order like an Amazon one would see a discreet envelope or parcel arrive. There was a thrill to this alone. But what if a lax postman had put it through a door where children played. I also regained for a while a benzo addiction I'd not long got over. I spent a month in hallucinatory psychosis after overdosing on a strange dissociative. I must have done some damage to my heart and brain. I guess it needed to be brought under control. However it seems ironic that the only two drugs that have entered and remained in common circulation are arguably the two most dangerous. Spice has changed prison life being incredibly powerful, cheap and easy to smuggle in. The homeless scene has found that relatively steady heroin addicts have become spice zombies and many have died and all seem to agree that withdrawal is worse than heroin. And in Stoke, oddly, monkey dust, a smokable stimulant, like a cheaper crack with psychosis thrown in for good measure.
It is crucial that drug policy changes soon. Are prisons are bursting with addicts who otherwise would not be criminals. People are dying as gangsters are who decides what is there and at what price. Drug use has never been stopped by its criminalisation. Only by seeing it as the health issue it is and not the moral choice that 1950s middle class sensationalism deemed drug use will continue to ruin lives and cause untold crime and societal damage.


Sent from my iPhone

Friday 20 October 2023

Legal Highs, Research Chemicals and Spice

 Sat here now in 2023 it seems virtually impossible to imagine that less than a decades ago there were shops on normal high streets throughout the country legally selling drugs over the counter, the equal of and in many cases more powerful than the recreational drugs people buy illegally today. Spice is now the umbrella term for synthetic cannabis compounds; probably the cheapest and most dangerous 'street' drug available. It is popular in some urban homeless communities and in prison as the chemical can be sprayed onto any herb or even sheets of paper upon which letters can be written and enter prison undetected. Despite being chemicals that act on cannabis receptors in the brain the drug is nothing like what your everyday weed and hash smoker would recognise. Vastly more powerful, able to render the user pretty much a zombie to the outside observer. Having never tried what  would now be recognised as Spice or Mamba as it often referred to in the West Midlands I am unqualified to describe the feelings and sensations the user experiences though I am informed that you lose touch with external reality and feel little from any cold or sharp corners. This is clearly why the homeless or imprisoned are attracted to it along with its cheap price. Back when the Research Chemical era was at its height I did once receive a small freeby from an internet supplier I was using at the time. I didnt 

Monday 16 October 2023

Chapter Three: Liptons First steps after being released from the mental…

Chapter Three: Liptons First steps after being released from the mental hospital

Freedom yes. But not a coin in his pocket. Lipton wasn't even sure who survived following the team's destruction of Rupert Bunsens attempt to leave the planet with the world's elite who had wrung out Gaia's beauty for personal gain. The thought of the moment they'd cracked the packed vehicles supposedly impregnable glass sides and the oceans pressure bursting through to drown the evil fuckers gave Lipton a proud smile. The sun bathed his face and all felt well with the world. Which of his crew had made it he had no clue. Knocked unconscious till the crew of a fishing boat dragged him aboard. Consciousness had returned in a bruised, dream like series of waves. He could see wreckage and the bodies of the dead once wealthy floating here and there. Fractured components of the craft struggled in the choppy sea, odd figures. Disheveled he saw them calling out for help but he couldn't tell who they were. All aboard the vessel he'd stolen from Porlock Weir had known that some, maybe all might not return. The Druid lads from Clun, the witches, Skree or Peter? Were they among those who survived? Jesus would undoubtedly have made it but his body could easily have been smashed and the debauched son of god could be anywhere reanimating. His next mission was to find out who lived. What exactly had happened. And this required he be the shaman he and Skree had both inadvertently become through their excessive use of psychedelics during their teens and early twenties. The human brain is not fully developed until it reaches roughly 25. Skree and Lipton had augmented the physical substance of their brains through firstly their discovery of magic mushrooms. The sacrament peculiar to and abundant in the British islands. Virtually invisible to most as they choose who they deem worthy of their use. Some seasons even the two shamans had failed to find many. But in the early years, from age 13 to 14 both spent mushroom season with wet knees and exploring dimensions most common men would never encounter. For sure, there were a few who tried them out and found the experience way too much. Some were even casualties, damaged for life; periodically sectioned by mental health professionals. But Lipton and Skree would both spend the autumn in deep engagement with the earth and it's gift that through history has held a knowledge for the few that each year were prepared to face the fears, stare clear and open eyed at the mirror to their souls. Nursery rhymes and fairy tales made sense. The patterns found on rare, pre Christian stone work. The standing stones that are still around. Many in the Orkneys, many in Yorkshire, Somerset and most counties have stone circles, groundwork's or other evidence that are understood to the open of mind under the influence of psylocibin. These islands are blessed with an abundance of the liberty cap and throughout history small numbers have been called to them and this gnosis has something that can be imagined as a beanstalk that stretches back through time. This Druidic knowledge stretches back to when man first arrived. Small branches of divergence have led off in exploration as small communities took journeys through the use of the sacrament. But its central core of knowledge, understanding and power has always been there. Mushrooms grow where people go and are only abundant where we tread. The liberty cap is the true sacrament of these islands. As foods that grow locally are nutritionally accurate for human survival in that place. Global trade has seen foods from all over the world available yet the correct diet is what we evolved alongside. Indeed we are part of the same thing. And the same applies to appropriate psychedelics.
However at around 16 years of age, when Skree and Lipton began to find themselves out of the family home and consequently finding their own money they both moved on to LSD. Unlike their peers who mostly fell to the side; scared of what these powerful compounds revealed. Few of us really want to know ourselves and would rather play out the acted character we create for our interactions with others. Unlike their peers they began to spend more time on what is commonly known as 'set and setting'. Preparing their minds over a period of days, eating the right diet, exercising to get their bodily systems ready. And to find the setting. A place and time were none of the grey and dull, the black and dark could intrude on the experience. Ensuring that they were in a place where they could completely let go of the side rails. So many trips are ruined by desperately resisting. The real journeys occur only when one throws themselves in, letting go of all security ties.
Further compounds were introduced. Advances in development of Albert Hoffmans gift to the world. Al lad, eth lad, pro lad, LSZ. Not to mention DMT, 5meoDMT, Ketamine and a whole plethora of new substances that became available during the period prior to 2015s ban on what had become a Wild West. A large part of the research chemicals were just weird. But amongst the crap there were diamonds.
Ultimately after a point the pair had rendered themselves shamans. But neither was of the kind to be a village doctor. Far from it. Their duty was to try cure humanity of a growing darkness that in all likelihood will see the destruction of the species. Lipton and Skree after meeting various entities, creatures, demons, angels and other forces whilst exploring different dimensions became appointed to fight the grey wherever they found it.
For many years shouldering this responsibility was too much. The sheer evil of what they had seen seemed beyond the scope of any man, shaman or not. They found themselves subject to heavy addiction to alcohol and drugs to desperately shut off what they had seen. Homeless at times both lived dangerously, taking anything to hide from their fear. They were regularly pestered and harassed by mental health professionals who were simply unaware of what inhabited different dimensions, some just a fine membrane away from bursting through. But ultimately they stepped up and shouldered their responsibilities. After all it was themselves who had got themselves here.
Lipton knew he must now find Skree, alive or dead. And this would take sacramental use of the right psychedelic. He set off walking, not looking back at the mental hospital he had been released from. The sun felt warm on his face and smiling he walked on toward this star that gave the planet life.


Sent from my iPhone

Saturday 14 October 2023

Death

Death

For sure, death is shit for anyone who wants to live. But even they won't know anything about it. As you get older life gets tiring; landlords endlessly pestering you for money, council tax twats taking you to court in your absence for not paying money for some shit ideas they've had, ok, rubbish collection is pretty cool but that shouldn't cost a lot. Debt agencies endlessly pestering you over services some cunt claims they provided.
And let's face it, after about 40, unless you're a completely gullible twat You go through the same thing you went through as a child over the Father Christmas lie; nothing we do has meaning. For sure I'm not a cunt and will always go to the aid of an old lady or anyone weaker than me to help in a practical way. Now as my joints start aching and the tablets the doctors have me on to contain, to imprison my sliding and warping perception of reality that they deem true, see me putting on weight. It's a genuine dilemma; would I rather be a loony or be a fat, sexless, agreeable piece of furniture.
I look forward to death. I fear painful dying. I've seen cancer kill and I don't want that. I've a couple of grams of top grade heroin put aside and a set of work's ready to take myself out when it gets too painful, too dull or just when I can't be arsed with it anymore.
This is not to say I don't marvel at the incomprehensibly beautiful moment of life in all its glory. Each day I meditate on the sheer unlikelihood of being one of the possibilities that could have been. Being is so fantastic. Let's just enjoy till the lights go out and we return to the nothingness from which we came.


Sent from my iPhone

Wednesday 11 October 2023

After the Death of Bunsen

After the Death of Bunsen

"So mr Lipton, you believe that you are not only a revered Shaman, a friend of witches and Druids but also an Archangel now. It seems that your talents have developed even further than last time you were here."
Lipton muttered a curse under his breath before swiftly retracting. His curses now weren't mere insults. A lazy comment could ruin lives.
"No doctor. I was under a number of illusions when I was sectioned. These hallucinations have now passed and I feel well enough to reintegrate into society."
The psychiatrist peered from behind his half lens glasses, scrutinising his patient, looking for honesty. Patients, particularly smart ones would often learn the right answers and project sincerity whilst still suffering from serious mental illness.
"You were quite insistent when you arrived mr Lipton that you were able to fly,"
His mocking tone irritated the Shaman and it took immense self control for his eyes not to dilate. Lipton had stopped arguing with the staff at the mental hospital weeks ago now.
Smiling in an affectation of humour in his condition on arrival, "Wow! I really was messed up back then. Imagine believing I could fly? The stupidity of it all is embarrassing now sir."
Of course he could fly. All angels, even humble beginners could.
"Indeed. And no more delusions of the financial elite boarding spacecraft."
Lipton summoned up a chuckle he half believed himself, "ridiculous, I know. And wasn't i babbling about sir Rupert Bunsen or something? I must have heard something on the radio about his tragic death. The sea has claimed many lives but few as noble as the great entrepreneur. I, of course, shoulder some blame for my bout of psychosis. Serves me right for experimenting with mind altering drugs. I'll not be doing that again."
Dressed in a white lab coat, as though he were a real scientist, worse still, talking as though his chosen field was as respectable as a surgeons. The incarcerated shaman could see the irony. The study into mental illness in 2023 was in a similar position of other medicine in medieval times. Before the discovery of bacteria the world beyond the reach of the human eye led to superstitions. Modern psychiatry, until an understanding of how meat can think and feel will remain subject to similar superstition. Yet psychiatry and its adherents would continue, oblivious to the comedic irony in claiming the same reverence that other fields of medicine enjoyed. This twisted notion is perhaps most obvious to any shaman than it is to anyone else.
"No doctor. I'm grounded back in reality. All thanks to you and your team too sir for which I shall remain eternally grateful."
Just for a second the psychiatrist wondered if he was being mocked though this second slipped like a drop in to the ocean of seconds that had gone before making up his morning before his self assurance reasserted itself and he returned to his pompous self regard.
"Well I've discussed it with the team and we're mostly in agreement that you are free to leave. I must insist on the importance of continuing with your medication. Any lapse in this could result in a return of your condition. I'll be seeing you on a weekly basis for a while until we're quite sure that you're okay. And remember should any symptoms, however small start to reemerge please call us here at the hospital."
Lipton stood up and smiled. He gave the idiot a firm handshake and looked him confidently in the eye.
"I'll not be back sir. And thanks again for all your support and understanding."
With this Lipton strode away, down six flights of stairs, along a strip light lit white corridor, past an elderly man mumbling about umbrellas, avoided a woman in her twenties crouched urinating choosing not to look at the widening yellow tinged puddle, "goodbye Jenifer," he bid her, took a right turn and found reception. Here the decor shifted to the feel of an infant school, brighter colours and a collage of paper animals made in the art therapy group with upholstered wooden furniture in small clusters where family visitors drank tea and coffee from the coin machine near the entrance. The look of municipality betrayed the fact that the doors were locked until a staff member was there to open them.
He gave his name to the receptionist who produced a file where various papers were pushed his way to sign and a Tesco bag for life containing the few belongings he had arrived with three months earlier. The receptionist smiled and said "goodbye mr Lipton. I'll click the door as you reach it." Seven more paces towards the thick sheets of glass before he heard the locks triggered. A further four and he could feel the wind on his face.
Lipton paused and breathed deeply. His first clean air; free from the scent of badly cooked food, piss and disinfectant since he had been dragged in here screaming by four burly nursing staff back in January. It felt cold to his skin, too long attuned to central heating. Spring was on its way and birdsong twinkled over the noise of traffic.
It felt good to be free.


Sent from my iPhone

Red Admiral

Tuesday 3 October 2023

Stairwell moths

Clifden Nonpareil. Moth of the season in my flat stairwell. Rare visitor. Once thought extinct in these islands but a few recent sightings suggest that this magnificent, big and beautiful moth is making a comeback. Check out the lunar underwing on one of photos. They're about 22mm big.

Monday 2 October 2023

The Return of Skreeworld

 Indeed it has been a long time since Skreeworld was running at full force. We brought you creative outlooks on the reality we operate in. We brought you photography of the surrounding world. We brought you a detailed breakdown of our breakdown and our journeys in and out of psychosis. we brought you two novels the second of which became so complex and sprawling we were unable to complete. This was due to our serious mental illness and the sectioning under the mental health act of the main protagonist, Skree often referred to as Peter. We brought you so much.

But then silence. Pedriodical photographs were posted. Unable to communicate we began an ongoing project to study the moths that were spotted in and around the stairwell of the flats where we live. 

I was able to submit photographs of these using  an iphone. But first my main computer was stolen by crackheads, then its replacement disappeared under similar circumstances. Then finally as my furniture business collapsed I dropped my camera and I was reduced to poor quality photographs from my phone. I returned to furniture making creating standard, arts and crafts style work for the wealthy rural market of farmhouses and suchlike but none that represented my own personal aesthetic vision. During this period my mental health was rarely stable and punctuated by periods of depression, extreme anxiety and occasional psychosis. But now it appears my doctors have finally got my medication right and I am once again able to continue.

Skreeworld blog has been an expansive description of my creative work, philosophical thinking, study of moths and all else that comprises my experiences as a human being. Now I am able to, once again, take you on my journey and the other collaborative Skreeworld project. So welcome back to any old followers and also to any newcomers to our work.

Skreeworld is a strange and exciting place. Fuck! Its good to be back. 

Monday 4 September 2023

Friday 11 August 2023

Friday 21 July 2023

Wednesday 19 July 2023

Sunday 2 July 2023

Claire, my partner, got her emphysema diagnosis about four years ago…

Claire, my partner, got her emphysema diagnosis about four years ago. We both know that this is a condition that does not go away. Like many of our generation she has COPD due to the smoking, homelessness, sitting round wood fires and other life style practices. In her case working in a dry cleaners didn't help either. If you google it you read that the average lifespan post diagnosis is five years. It has been hard for her not to succumb to the addictive behaviour that has been a constant problem throughout her life. About two years ago she was offered an operation to help her quality of life. A new treatment where the damaged areas of the lungs are snipped and sealed leaving the more healthy areas to work more freely. We were prepared for this. We knew it would be a difficult time for Claire and I would have to do a lot of caring for her as she recovered from the operation. But fate had other ideas in store. Over the last year Claire had lost about three stone in weight. She had found a lump in her throat. She had no energy. Stool tests revealed blood and blood tests are looking like something is seriously wrong with her. Her lifestyle hasn't changed making all this very worrying. We are currently awaiting the results from various tests but until she has these issues resolved and is strong again the Royal Brompton Hospital will not go ahead with her lung operation. She is terrified. All I can do is offer my support and promise to always be there. Two years back I had a cancer scare myself after some X-rays revealed sclerotic lesions. The doctors all looked flustered and fearful before I was passed as ok so I do know that the standard process is to let you get scared and then relieved. So nothing is known yet. However with the weight loss I think Claire may have cancer. I'm terrified myself so it's not a surprise she can't sleep. After three or four nights without sleep we all become paranoid but no tablets that we have are strong enough to knock her out. I love her very much and I'm not sure how I'd survive without her. But for now I must stay strong and reel off the usual philosophical inanities.



Sent from my iPhone

New Recording 11

The current situation

Saturday 1 July 2023

Lost

I met up with Fred and Lucy, two old and well loved friends on top of the hill fort where Westbury white horse is. I need to write more but I'm just about done at the moment.

Butterflies

Stairwell moths

Saturday 10 June 2023

Saturday 11th June

Saturday 11th June

The sun has been shining for a few weeks now and as Glastonbury festival gets closer I can't help but think that the skies will open on all the revellers. I'm usually there, working in some capacity as a way to get a free ticket. Not this year though. I've not been offered a job there and maybe it's for the best. Claire, my partner just wouldn't be up to it. Last year we were there saw our job requiring us to break a path through the intoxicated crowd for Norman cook, fat boy slim to make his exit in a large four wheeled vehicle with tinted glass hiding his identity. Claire managed but it tired her out. She pushed herself beyond what her body was capable of. I knew then if I were to work there I'd be on my own. Cook was a lovely guy as was his assistant who treated all as equal. I couldn't go without Claire so that's me done with the Pilton pop festival for a while.
Her spirit is up on the whole however she has moments of panic. We need to get through the tests before we know for sure. Due to her earlier life as a drug user she has no veins near her surface and the hospital had arranged for a cannula blood test prior to her X-ray, also due to being unable to have a colonoscopy due to sexual trauma she had endured in earlier life. This kindly arranged practice was missed as she got the appointment time wrong. Frustrating but we have to live with it. Hopefully we can rearrange without too much problem. This is all supposed to have taken place within two weeks of her initial doctors appointment that began the journey of her cancer.
Tonight I'm at mine again alone this time as Bentley wanted to stay with her. I had a few pipes earlier and a few goes on a DMT vapo. What a genius piece of technology. I've heard rumour there is an al lad vape. Imagine that, the greatest of all hallucinogens in a vape. Last week I enjoyed a great trip on what I was told was super fresh acid. It was powerful but controllable as I had to collect Claire after an aborted mission to stay at her parents. Once home again I was able to relax my mind and the might of LSD descended upon me.
There are a lot of unknowns ahead. All I know is we must enjoy every day as we don't know how many we have.


Sent from my iPhone

Friday 9 June 2023

Update

Update

I've not written anything for my blog for a few years now. Retreating into photography of the moths that appear in the stairwell of the flats where I live. My brother is an expert on moths and butterflies and works for Butterfly Conservation and helps me with identification when I can't find them in my books on the subject. I toyed with getting into trapping to see how many more I could find. But the original project was a tight brief. To understand properly the natural history of the stairwell of the flats. We face directly onto fields and woodland where an abundance of natural wildflower meadows allow for a great diversity and being social housing the lighting stays on most of the time. I'm blessed with a natural moth trap.
But lately changes in my life have brought a lot to try to negotiate. I'm not making furniture very much anymore. Instead caring for my partner.
Three years ago she was diagnosed with emphysema and it's very serious. She was told that she was chosen for a new treatment of lung reduction. A serious operation where the worst affected areas are snipped and sealed off. She had all the preliminary tests and was being lined up to have this operation which could have offered a real increase in her life expectancy.
Sadly in the last year or so she has lost three stone without any diet or exercise change. She has other symptoms such as a lump on her throat. Also a recent stool test revealed blood that can indicate bowel cancer. In fact all her symptoms suggest cancer. So the Royal Brompton hospital who are the lung specialists have put her lung treatment on hold until this cancer scare can be eliminated .
So until we know what is wrong with her she is so very scared. I'm terrified too. My mother died of cancer and it wasn't much fun at all.
So given her days are likely numbered I've chosen to put my furniture making to the side.
I love her very much. We are quite an insulator couple. She is fortunate to a number of old friends who don't judge her. I've always detested the idea that people are responsible for their illnesses. Yes she smoked as much of our generation did but never heavily. She is my life. I don't know what I'd do without her I'd like to go with her .
I will write more on this subject as things develop. It's going to be a strange journey.


Sent from my iPhone

Monday 29 May 2023

Stairwell moths

Treble Lines

Stairwell moths. Orange Swift

On drug and alcohol use

I have never been certain that I am an addict and only identify as one if I currently have a habit. The current orthodoxy on addiction bares little truth or accuracy to my own personal experience. I'm not sure that the opposite of addiction is sobriety any more than I think the opposite of sex addiction is celibacy. I have always loved drinking and taking drugs. A bit too much at times. Then I'll have to real it in for a while. It isn't an easy calling. Some bottle it first time they have a whitey. Others find that the diverse, infinite and interesting states of consciousness that are achievable are just too scary. Perhaps being already perched too close to madness, playing with the chemistry of the brain and subsequent expansions of the minds possibilities is just too dangerous for them. I respect that. I'm no athlete and steer clear of rock climbing as I wouldn't last long in that game. Sadly we are reaching a cultural stage where virtually all drug and alcohol use is being seen through the lens of addiction. The lowering of the bar in mental health has seen on one hand some superficial acceptance of people who twenty years ago would have been told to sort their shit out. Prince Harry came out confessing to mental health problems he suffered when his mother died. A category of experience we would once have seen as natural grief. Not a faulty human system but a human system operating exactly as would be expected following such a trauma. This down grading of mental health hasn't been met with government funding instead cuts have seen seriously mentally ill people lost to the system. Homeless as the Harry's of the world find therapy and counsel. From the age of 14 I took drugs recreationally. It wasn't until taking a job that I was wholly unsuited to in my early thirties that I drank in an unhealthy manner. And it wasn't until using heroin daily for a few months I understood what addiction was. These down sides are easily counterbalanced by the great and joyous times I have enjoyed. Years later I found myself in groups with compulsive cannabis smokers, far lesser smokers than I had been throughout university where I'd not considered it problematic, in discussion with myself and far worse druggies, grouped together as though we had something in common. This is not to dismiss their issues only that no amount of cannabis use can give a person any insight into heroin addiction. Later I came to learn that having experienced heroin addiction gives little insight into crack addiction, or gambling addiction for that matter. What I do believe is that a healthy human exposed to addictive drugs, if they have healthy minds and bodies, will become addicted. This isn't a flawed individual lacking moral fibre it is the predictable outcome. Perhaps this current fashion to group together often quite different behaviour patterns under the common umbrella of 'addiction' is misguided. I am in no way trying to underestimate the damage caused by habitual behaviours but I am saying that there are many different patterns. It is quite common to have a physiological dependence on a drug with no obsessive or self destructive aspect. For twenty years, having been prescribed bupronorphine I lived a healthy productive life. Never increasing my dose, never noticing that I had an addiction until I ran out. This is a far cry from the dehumanising ambivalent shifts that the crackhead or gambler endures. The swing from determination never to use or bet again to the polar opposite of determination to score at all costs. It is this condition, this devastating ambivalence that is the true destroyer of the person. I have known, still know drinkers and druggies that have never known this ambivalence. Happily hell bent on getting off their heads. And to be fair to them, if they have no dependents and seek no medical help and don't steal or fight or hurt anyone then surely that is their right. I can think of many more people driving cars, using up resources, engaged in business that is legal but causes only environmental and human damage yet maintain a smart appearance and don't enjoy a drink or a smoke that are considered upstanding citizens. These sober types, especially the ex addicts who garner applause for 20 years being straight headed, as though this peculiar choice was anything more than that. Just a slightly odd choice. Like celibacy. Not something to be scoffed at but neither something worthy of applause. Just a peculiarity. Like being a Stockport County fan. Or a train spotter. Of interest to them and them alone.



Sent from my iPhone

Thursday 18 May 2023

Stairwell moths

Pale Tussock and unsure exactly what Pug the other is

Friday 14 April 2023

Monday 3 April 2023

Wednesday 29 March 2023

Friday 17 March 2023

Stairwell moths

Pale brindled beauty

Stairwell moths

Pale Brindled Border

Thursday 16 February 2023

Thursday 2 February 2023

I have never been certain that I am an addict and only identify as…

I have never been certain that I am an addict and only identify as one if I currently have a habit. The current orthodoxy on addiction bares little truth or accuracy to my own personal experience. I'm not sure that the opposite of addiction is sobriety any more than I think the opposite of sex addiction is celibacy. I have always loved drinking and taking drugs. A bit too much at times. Then I'll have to real it in for a while. It isn't an easy calling. Some bottle it first time they have a whitey. Others find that the diverse, infinite and interesting states of consciousness that are achievable are just too scary. Perhaps being already perched too close to madness, playing with the chemistry of the brain and subsequent expansions of the minds possibilities is just too dangerous for them. I respect that. I'm no athlete and steer clear of rock climbing as I wouldn't last long in that game. Sadly we are reaching a cultural stage where virtually all drug and alcohol use is being seen through the lens of addiction. The lowering of the bar in mental health has seen on one hand some superficial acceptance of people who twenty years ago would have been told to sort their shit out. Prince Harry came out confessing to mental health problems he suffered when his mother died. A category of experience we would once have seen as natural grief. Not a faulty human system but a human system operating exactly as would be expected following such a trauma. This down grading of mental health hasn't been met with government funding instead cuts have seen seriously mentally ill people lost to the system. Homeless as the Harry's of the world find therapy and counsel. From the age of 14 I took drugs recreationally. It wasn't until taking a job that I was wholly unsuited to in my early thirties that I drank in an unhealthy manner. And it wasn't until using heroin daily for a few months I understood what addiction was. These down sides are easily counterbalanced by the great and joyous times I have enjoyed. Years later I found myself in groups with compulsive cannabis smokers, far lesser smokers than I had been throughout university where I'd not considered it problematic, in discussion with myself and far worse druggies, grouped together as though we had something in common. This is not to dismiss their issues only that no amount of cannabis use can give a person any insight into heroin addiction. Later I came to learn that having experienced heroin addiction gives little insight into crack addiction, or gambling addiction for that matter. What I do believe is that a healthy human exposed to addictive drugs, if they have healthy minds and bodies, will become addicted. This isn't a flawed individual lacking moral fibre it is the predictable outcome. Perhaps this current fashion to group together often quite different behaviour patterns under the common umbrella of 'addiction' is misguided. I am in no way trying to underestimate the damage caused by habitual behaviours but I am saying that there are many different patterns. It is quite common to have a physiological dependence on a drug with no obsessive or self destructive aspect. For twenty years, having been prescribed bupronorphine I lived a healthy productive life. Never increasing my dose, never noticing that I had an addiction until I ran out. This is a far cry from the dehumanising ambivalent shifts that the crackhead or gambler endures. The swing from determination never to use or bet again to the polar opposite of determination to score at all costs. It is this condition, this devastating ambivalence that is the true destroyer of the person. I have known, still know drinkers and druggies that have never known this ambivalence. Happily hell bent on getting off their heads. And to be fair to them, if they have no dependents and seek no medical help and don't steal or fight or hurt anyone then surely that is their right. I can think of many more people driving cars, using up resources, engaged in business that is legal but causes only environmental and human damage yet maintain a smart appearance and don't enjoy a drink or a smoke that are considered upstanding citizens. These sober types, especially the ex addicts who garner applause for 20 years being straight headed, as though this peculiar choice was anything more than that. Just a slightly odd choice. Like celibacy. Not something to be scoffed at but neither something worthy of applause. Just a peculiarity. Like being a Stockport County fan. Or a train spotter. Of interest to them and them alone.



Sent from my iPhone