I am, therefore I think.

   

Subject: I am, therefore I think.

It is suggested that consciousness is nothing more than a "peripheral sensation" amidst the whirring of the synapses within the brain. That our consciousness is the last to know what we are going to do. We are in a sense,  dummies trying to keep up with events outside our control.
How did consciousness come into being. It is suggested through language and the need to think outside our own box as it were. This realisation that there was life outside our own box led us to evolve ways of thinking about peripheral things which as time went by became more and more complex. This led us into the world of supposition, a grey world of artificiality where fact and fiction mix. That there can be reasons without reasoners, designs without designers and competence without comprehension.
"I think therefore I am" famously described an assumption but if our minds are simply a jumble of thoughts and the "I" is nothing more than a 'centre of "narrative" gravity', a sort of story we tell ourselves to make sense of the jumbled narrative created within our minds, then to be conscious of who we are is a fake.
It is all rather devastating to imagine we are based on so much 'quick sand' with few or any foundations.
Our reasoning subjects us to believe "we", as represented by our mind, centred within our body, is for real and therefore this reality, as an individual, demands respect. But what if the real reality is that we are a composite of chance happenings, fired off within the mind with no coherence other than the false image we put in place to come to terms with not actually knowing who we are.

Its only indigestion

Subject: It's only indigestion

"Ignorance is bliss" of course and there is no truer truth than when one closes ones eyes, head on the pillow and a twinge of pain catches your attention. Dr Goggle is consulted and any one of a number of reasons, from the acute to the benign causes one to pause and think.
'In the past' without any self knowledge a pain was par for the course, nothing to worry about, if it gets worse place it in the doctors hands. Life was, in some ways, not so precious.
Two horrendous world wars had made a mockery of the sanctity of life and some how we were content with 55 to 65 years as a good innings. I was walking through a grave yard the other day and noticed that 50 years was the average at the turn of the 20th contrary and these were substantial memorials to the dead and must have represented the better off who would be expected to live longer.
Today we are searching for immortality by postponing death to await improvements in medical science so our bodies can be repaired. The technical apparatus handy to the medic today encourage him or her to use what's in the toolbox irrespective of the quality of life since we have been directed into 'specialities'. The lung man, the heart woman, the brain team, each speciality outbidding  the other for funds to promote what they do.
Look how good I am cry's  the abdomen guy, little realising that his success has huge implications up and down the food chain. The saving of life is not just the impact of a replacement but the overall effect that that replacement brings to the body corporate.
Life is finite, death is forever and no matter how we wish to doge the issue, we do ourselves a dis-service if we don't prepare for the inevitable.
How we do that is different for each one of us. Faith plays a great part for the many who believe we are part of something greater than the sub total of our being. People without faith must rely on being pragmatic and wish the end to come without pain, reconciling the inevitability with thoughts of having hopefully lived a good and full life.
And so the pain we feel tonight is only an example of the complexity of a function which has carried on for 70 or more years. Enclosed in a body which has been misused and ill-treating itself for decades and whose elasticity of purpose is fast running out.
Luckily there are pain killers in the cupboard and anyway, it's only indigestion !!!

Democracy

Subject: Democracy

With Teresa May calling a General Election in June, it seems to me that rather than an election about party priorities it will be an opportunity to return a vote as to whether we should leave Europe on what ever terms are offered or if the terms are so bad perhaps we should reconsider.                                                                                               Voting in Scotland has become simply a nationalistic call for ridding themselves of the chains of Westminster and much less than on bread and butter issues.                        Tim Farron of the Liberals sees it as I do an opportunity to send another message to the political elite in Westminster about staying in the EU, he of course has raged at the referendum result since it was announced and one could expect the "Remains" to lend him their vote. With 49% of the electorate recently coalescing around remaining in the EU one would have thought his singular political party opposition to leaving would draw a huge following since, as I say this election following a divisive Referendum will be seen by many as a one issue vote.

Sadly the Labour Party have been all over the place with so many of their core voters wishing to leave the EU and many wishing to stay.  It meant that Jeremy Corbyn had to relinquish his own preferred opposition to Europe and its cartels and try the difficult balancing act of re-establish a middle position on the matter. Of course in politics this is seen as fence sitting and there is nothing worse for someone who proclaims he has leadership potential.
If people who had voted against Brexit reduces significantly the Conservative vote can they continue to proceed with the Referendum vote. Would it mean, cap in hand, to ask for our letter back. The Europeans would probably welcome us back as a wounded force, put in our place as it were and something of a laughing stock.
The doom sayers would heave a sigh of relief, especially the financial markets who see untold problems in our leaving since we learn more and more, how tight the is knot which ties all national economies these days, Not as it was 10 to 15 years ago when individual nations counted in the general scheme of things.
National agendas have been overtaken by Global agendas. Economic Groups such as the Europeans, China, America and to a lesser extent Russia, India and the Brick nations have a collective strength which far outweighs a single country the size of ours and so, as welcome as it is to cast our minds back to Empire, I think we have missed that boat.
That's not to say that we are in a canoe without a paddle only that we might consider  downsizing our self esteem and begin to think, like many smaller nations, about our own society and how we can revive it, instead of worrying about other societies far away on the other side of the world. I believe that we, like them have rights. Although I hate the term rights we should not be afraid to cherish the institutions which give us our special kite mark. The NHS, unarmed police, a respect for not only the laws but the systems which bring those laws into being, an ability to largely get on with all the people who come to live here, a deep accommodation without sacrificing norms for those who proclaim they are different to us in what ever way, a respect of the sick and elderly, an admiration for the youth who cleave out new ways to get to where they want to be, and so much more. This is the mark of a mature society, a society who should not be told what to think but should be admired for the instinctive way it ploughs its their own furrow without disturbing the neighbours.

Where do you get your information

Subject: Where do you get your information.

The man in the "Dog and Gun" has opinions obtained from aspects of his daily life and rightly bases much of his decision making on what he learns. Obviously his expertise is limited to where he/she sources the information and the creditability of that source.
One of the complaints people made leading up to the Brexit vote was the limited and very poor information on offer leading up to the vote and the use of political chicanery to try and persuade the voter one way or the other.
The BBC spend, a considerable amount of money broadcasting what goes on in Parliament. The discussions in the various committees which invite the people deeply involved in the issues to come in and be questioned on their specific expertise.

Today the Group Chairman of HSCB, the Chief Executive of the London Stock Exchange and the Vice Chair of Allianz Global Exchange were sitting and answering questions in one of the committees. Their knowledge and expertise on the financial ramifications of coming out was of the highest quality. The opinions and reasoned argument were edge of the chair stuff and I wish more people would watch and listen to these broadcasts rather than taking their position from the Daily Mail or the Guardian.Yes it's heady stuff.

Xavier Rolet the top man in the Stock Exchange was explaining how since the banking crash in 2007 the system was changed and rather than allow banks to clear their positions themselves in direct contact with who ever was the counter party, the system now is handled centrally in a 600 trillion dollar clearing house where all the deals are brought together and compressed into a multi currency settlement process. There are two centres London and New York which cover the world trade.
Douglas Flint the big boss of HSCB and Elizabeth Corley, a very articulate and savvy Vice President of Allianz added their wealth of experience to answer the often sceptical MPs about any specific downside to Brexit.
Another session had the boss of Air Bus and alongside him, the the leader of the Motor Vehicle Manufacturing Association.
These are not the sort of people you are likely to meet in the "Dog and Gun" and if you were willing to stick the course, you learn from the horses mouth, what actually we can expect depending what agreement is reached and what opportunities, if any, arise.
It should be compulsory on schools to feed this sort of discussion forum into their 6th form at the very least since they are going to be the ones having to deal with the Brave New World post exit.

Its not for life

   

Subject: It's not for life.

The Erdogan Referendum on whether to consolidate the position and the powers of the Turkish President with those powers held by the Prime Minister has revealed what a divisive  system Referendum can be when the voting is close. 

Brexit had a similar close result and given the importance Referendum questions have on a country it seems a binary vote, "yes or no" always gives an incomplete answer. 

All voting system leave winners and losers and if in the round the outcome is divisive  usually there is hope for the losers that in time they can have their say and reverse it.

Referendum unfortunately seem to be a totally different political device since the outcome is deemed irreversible. Can an outcome, which is irreversible be judged by a single vote on the bases of a single question on the ballot paper.

Given that the question on the ballot paper matters to people and given that 51% vote 'yes' and 49% vote 'no' how can any sort of consensus be reached between winners and losers. 

Instead of winning the issue by repeated debate and compromise it provides a stark contrast and inevitable conflict within the society, a conflict which simmers with resentment, rather than coming to terms and acquiescing. These acute differences can, in volatile societies become the seed for civil war and even in our own mature society the result of the Brexit vote will not begin to be revealed until the end of the two year negotiation and the position we are in is revealed.

Little has happened since the vote other than we have learnt more about the negative implications of our voting to get out of the EU. This learning curve has taken place after the vote when common sense tells us, it should have taken place before. 

As the implications come out in a drip feed of debate, we become in a better position to make a valued decision and at least having evaluated the consequences, we can't cry when things go belly up.

Referendum then are a rough tool to gauge a populations wishes. It simply polarises people into camps which re-entrench a position, since regardless of any new facts, to protect the reasons you voted the way you did you hunker down and cover your ears. The implications of what you have done reinforce your blind spots since to admit you were wrong on such an important question as to your future and more important, your children's future, would be too difficult to bear.

Few things have a right or wrong component since what ever is one persons right is another persons wrong and "rightly" so. 

Our democratic system of balloting every 5 years is itself full of contradictions but at least it's not for life.

Distilled in a blog

   

Subject: Distilled in a blog.

One of the most disturbing things about growing old is that as I look at the four hundred or so books I have lining my bedroom (the rafters just about bear the load)  they are becoming a blank canvas in that I can't remember much if any of the detail or what they are about.
It suggests that if I didn't buy another book, I would actually have something to read until I die without having to buy another and more to the point it suggests that all the stories and information I gathered reading them has disappeared like the rabbit down its hole. This has a disturbing effect since I have prided myself for making the effort to read and find out only to discover it was all a waste of time as I approach a blank slate once again.
Is this the sum total of our endeavours, the result of being inquisitive and instructive. Have all those hours reading been a mistake, a waste of good drinking time !!
It highlights the fact that not only are we finite but also frail. Frail in that area we most prided ourselves, that of having a memory which enabled us to draw conclusions.
Without conclusions what are we but a kaleidoscope of unrelated images, moments of recognition without cognisant awareness. All those years of tinkering around the edge of knowledge, of putting some semblance of order into the world we observe and making our home comfortable within that recognition.
Shall I start again on the top shelf. John le Carre sitting next to Huxley, Alan Clarks Diaries nestling up to D H Lawrence, Walter Greenwoods "Love on the Dole" competing with Philip Roth's  "American Pastoral. "Berlin" by Antony Beevor side by side with Churchill's War and Hiscocks "Cruising under Sail".  Solzhenitsyn to Arnold Bennett Orwell, to J B Priestly, Gunter Grass to Voltaire. All with a tale to tell, never mind the books written on the causes of the Financial Collapse or Black Holes in the Universe, it was all pertinent once and still is in a funny sort of way but our specific take on what we read will die with us, as if "we" had never existed.

That cultivated personality which defines us, so relevant to our effort to understand, has but a few years to live and yet it was so personal. All our journeys are different each unique in that our exposure to things is different and the formulation of our intellect is also so different. If we could bottle our composite experience and hand it down it wouldn't be so bad but to lose it all in a heartbeat, 'or rather the absence of one', seems more than a pity. 

It used to be thought that your children were the depositories of your learning but with a fast moving world the children find little relevance in your knowledge, still less in the factors which made you what you are. 

Cryogenics might be one solution. We could all become a bottle on a shelf, to be sampled when appropriate, like a dusty book in the depths of a reference library.

The super sensitive, emotional, task specific human has no or little value in this world of bits and bytes, other than we might find storage in "the cloud" but only if you have taken the time to distil who you are and what you care about in the digital format of a - blog perhaps !!!

Lapping up the adulation

Subject: Lapping up the adulation.

 

 

I'm sitting in 'Uplands' a suburb of Swansea having a lunchtime beer. The sun is shining and the streets are begging to come awake as people drag themselves from the bed where they had crashed following their usual Friday night shenanigans.
My head is clear, it's a while since I have been 'out late' and I was looking forward to a visit to the Swansea waterfront and the bistro lifestyle which has sprung up there.
'Uplands' to those who don't know it is a quasi bohemian place, the Main Street, full of quirky cafes serving cuisine from across the world. It's a place full of lovely old houses clinging to the hillside on which the suburb is built, a jangle of twisty streets and difficult parking. It has a flavour of a more affluent time when money built homes to take advantage of the view.
Now it's full of a Sushi Bars and the Vietnamese restaurants intermingle with the KFC to bring a cosmopolitan clientèle onto the streets, each contesting the available space with the ubiquitous motor car. At night the pub I am seated outside is heaving with eager testosterone fuelled youth, mixed up with old, "seen it all before" locals who refuse to get old, but now it is the quiet before the storm.
The Welsh, as their accent denotes are a sing song community somewhat displaced from the business hubbub which is increasingly centred on London but they flourish on what ever they can get since the cost of living here is so much cheaper and as long as the pound in their pocket stretches to cover the 'basics', the weekend pub culture and its music scene thrives on what's left.
The guitarists, piano players, base players and drummers, all well past their Prime but still a delight to listen to. Each night they relive their youth somewhere, playing those musical cords that come as natural as using a knife and fork, cords learnt as teenagers in their bedrooms and to this day, just as vibrant. The time warp is that of nostalgia for the music which drove their generation and their following, the lads and lasses who used to listen back then and still do.
Society hasn't changed much in Wales. They have an inherent optimism, their Celtic blood, ties them tight as a community and through it comes their strength. There is a deep consensus of their rights as a nation and if the deceit practised in Westminster doesn't fulfil "promises made", then they will quietly wait.
Where ever you go Wales, Ireland, Scotland the North of England its the same message, "perfidious Westminster". The House of Commons  a building where words are spoken which have little sincerity, where deals are struck within the cartel, between the Government and those who benefit from the gravy train of ex-civil service work now spooned out to G4S and their cronies. It could resemble something akin to the Russian oligarch but we give it a cover of genteel spin and call it The Market economy.
This time of day, midday, is a man's world, the girls are still putting on their make up, repairing the ravages of last night. The pub itself a dark cavernous place with a dungeon like interior is empty and we sit outside in the sunshine. Men with white hair, or no hair (me on both counts). Men heavily tattooed, proudly display their art in the sunshine, (not me). One wonders what on Earth encouraged them to become a walking canvas for Doris and her python. The maritime mermaid entwined around the anchor on the forearm is long gone, now-a-days the adornment is total, not an inch escapes the needle. Like an Axminster carpet, the patterns are intricate and full and one has to wonder why they chose to display such a disregard for mothers skin. It's not so much a reflection of class, as of the past but something else. One often also finds beautiful young women disregarding and degrading their bodies, covering  themselves in designs more appropriate to a Chinese Dragon Show.
Am I wrong to feel prim and proper as I sit amongst them, not a jolly jack anchor in sight on my white, slowly shrivelling torso, with no wish to embroider my skin in this way. Fashion I know is in the eye of the designer and women become part of an industry which says the moment you've bought it it's out of fashion and you must buy something new to display yourself to others. With the tattoo it's the polar opposite, once you try it on your stuck with it for life. Since life psychological journey is varied and changes with age, surely the thrill of Doris and her python will have worn off by the time you reach 40 and still more so by 60. Showering once or twice a day, there she is reminding you of that moment of madness, egged on by your mates you hadn't the common sense to say no.
Anyway it's bistro time and I'm now down at the Waterfront listening to a trio of fantastic musicians "leading me on" with their Django  Reinhardt toe tapping rhythm. Music to die for as I sip my Courvoisier and marvel at the riffs. Oh to be young again, to pick up that instrument of torture which only need the time and perseverance and then I too could be on stage lapping up the adulation.