Monthly Archives: February 2018

Of Sophists and Soporifics…


With the advent of the Peripatetic Philosophers and their schools,

where students could learn to aspire,

to all that is good in life,

and the roaring success of these ventures,

came, inevitably, another sort of instruction,

one based solely on false promises,

and flattery,

and mutual ‘appreciation’,

and favour.

In short, on rhetoric, or hot air…

very expensive hot air.


First, one yawns…

Then, one becomes drowsy…

And finally, one falls asleep.

Hypnotised chickens…

The Silent Eye

Nick's chick

Quite why I have to be up at ridiculous o’clock, I don’t know. Well, I probably do, but even for me it is a bit early in the day to start calling myself an idiot. I wouldn’t mind if I’d managed to get to bed before half past midnight, but after tossing and turning for a while, waking from a particularly unpleasant dream, I gave in and got up. Sleep was not happening.

The lurid and improbable story of the dream still lingers around the fringes of my mind in the same way as the events from whence it sprang hover at the edge of memory. It is not a time that I particularly wish to remember, nor indeed something I feel a need to forget. It was simply part of life, and therefore part of the inevitable learning curve of growing into today. I say inevitable, because in some…

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The puzzle of being

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

Image via pinterest

“I can usually work people out,” he mused. “What their underlying motives and reasons are, what is really behind how they are. Can’t do it with myself though. Doesn’t matter how much I look… I never know if I am operating from a need to do, or to justify, or to hide something from myself…” He continued exploring the various permutations of reasoning and instinct that lie behind all our choices and actions. I had to agree, it is far easier to feel we can get to the bottom of someone else’s behaviour than it is to be certain of the reasons behind our own.

We had been talking about the nature of reality to begin with; how we each create our own vision of the world and its denizens which, once fixed, is almost impossible to change. As far as people are concerned, we make judgements…

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Why Atheism?…


The ‘God Father’ is exposed.

He hears not.


Could he hear

He would

Know not

What to do…


He appears


of making himself



No one dreams

His dreams anymore…


The Bastions

Of European God-Head

Are in disarray…


Though, everywhere, the religious instinct

Sprouts and grows, vigorously…

It treats Theism

With profound distrust.


Pancake Ridge

Walking with a Smacked Pentax

The Pancake Stone lies on the edge of Ilkley moor, in Yorkshire. Visible from some distance, and covered in ‘cup stones‘, it is a large slab balanced on top of another large rock (similar to a pancake in a large pan), and is at the side of an ancient trackway, ‘Pancake Ridge’, along the side of the moors.

There is a lovely walk along the Ridge, with superb views over the Wharfe valley. This morning saw lots of mist in the distance, and the market town of Otley, 5 miles distant, was almost totally obscured, with just the peak of the 900 ft. Chevin poking through.

There are several prehistoric cairns, enclosures and rock art on the Ridge, and this morning I had a few hours pleasure exploring them, and seeking out new ones (I didn’t find any). I followed the Ridge for a few miles East towards…

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The Green Race…


Far superior in every way to their white, red, black and yellow brethren, when the green race returned to their home planet they were not best pleased with what they found.

Mankind, such as it was, was easily subdued and once the potentially disasterous propensity to self-destruct had been removed they were once again allowed to roam freely over the planet much as a domesticated animal might.

Foraging amongst the ruined churches and temples of yore, the Old Testament of Divine Justice and the New, of Divine Mercy, were re-discovered and married together.

Thus, the green race perceived what had gone wrong with their experiment…

Of One Mind?

The Silent Eye

Of One Mind fishesAA

To be of ‘one mind’: it’s an expression we don’t hear a lot of, nowadays, though it remains available to us in the language. Historically, it was used to describe an intensity of opinion, or – even stronger – belief, that something was so important that several key figures united in a single ‘front’ of solidarity behind whatever was being endorsed.

Perhaps our vision of truth has become dulled, and it is considered that there are few such ‘black and white’ moments… In line with the complexity of our world, it may be that nothing truly ‘is’ anymore, there are just shades of ‘isness’.

Over the ages, philosophers have ventured into the waters of the human psyche and grappled with the idea of single-mindedness. To be of ‘sound mind’ has always been important; and that implies being single in our interior nature. That unity expressed by a group of people…

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Honouring Sanctity…


And so, the mighty bend low before the Saint?

The misery of his meagre apparel, the antithesis of all they strive for.

And yet, is there not something of power in renunciation?

What is it that moves behind those placid eyes?

Something steely and beyond the merely material.

What secret whisperings are those ears privvy to?

What is it that needs not their trappings

And heeds not their vainglory?