Last Friday for the first time this year I cycled on my old training route of some 54miles in the South Cheshire countryside - rolling hills around Alderley Edge, Goostrey ('Goostrey remember me') and Wilmslow.
It got quiet hot and I drank 2 bottles of water - not quite up to my 6 bottles in the August heat of my LEJOG ride nearly 2 years ago. I completed the trip in 6.5 hours making a good 8 miles per hour. This was almost as fast as I got before starting my LEJOG so I am well pleased to be still so fit and not that sore the next day, if a little tired.
I have been suffering what I think is a stress related tense stomach intermittently for some weeks now. It disappeared during the cycle ride and only reappeared some 48 hours later. I can't obviously stay permanently on the bike but it does say something.
On the ride itself the time past quickly. I dwelled inside and quietly turned a few things over in my mind, nothing startling emerged but I have missed this time just to reflect and be me during the busy-ness of my life in recent weeks. And the countryside was glorious to travel through.
Best to all Bill very much back on bike
Monday, 29 June 2009
Thursday, 25 June 2009
The Manchester riots
[more creative writing stuff]
Although the Manchester riots were clearly a consequence of the brutal i-snatch squad attacks on the pandemonia or Pet-in established following the Pet Shop Boys concert at the iRena in December i2020 no-one could really blame the riots on the pandemonia or heaven forbid blame the Pets although some attempts were made by gov-e-media outlets. Neil and Chris of the Pets and their manager went into hiding as result which was unfortunate as their concert was their first public outing in 5 years.
No the riots were a dis-aster waiting to happen, indeed according to the Synchronisers they were caused by the phenomena of mass dis-aster, namely that some much of the population was in a disconnect with energies of the cosmos. But they would say that wouldn't they?
Also the fact that the Gay, Pol*, Chinese and Italian quarters of the city were all involved in the riots suggests that a simple 'this was gay or pol bashing' view of the riots was just that: simplistic. This is not to deny the the brutality shown by the snatch squads when operating in the Gay or Pol quarter of the city. Indeed in any overly 'civilised' society a public inquiry of some sort would have happened.
The Manchester riots lasted 5 days and over 1,000 Snatchies were deployed. 100 people were alleged to have died in the riots although due to extensive fire damage the true figure will never be known. Certainly 60 bodies were recovered and 451 people were hospitalised with fire, gunshot and tazer injuries. Things were so bad at one point that the city and surrounding region was declared a Grade P disaster zone. This needs to be set in the context that the hunger riots in Glasburgh only resulted in a Grade M disaster declaration.
*Pol(s) slang term for for polyamorists who openly have more than one loving intimate relationship at any one time. As a group they seemed to have emerged around 1972 ( in the old PPM calendar)
Although the Manchester riots were clearly a consequence of the brutal i-snatch squad attacks on the pandemonia or Pet-in established following the Pet Shop Boys concert at the iRena in December i2020 no-one could really blame the riots on the pandemonia or heaven forbid blame the Pets although some attempts were made by gov-e-media outlets. Neil and Chris of the Pets and their manager went into hiding as result which was unfortunate as their concert was their first public outing in 5 years.
No the riots were a dis-aster waiting to happen, indeed according to the Synchronisers they were caused by the phenomena of mass dis-aster, namely that some much of the population was in a disconnect with energies of the cosmos. But they would say that wouldn't they?
Also the fact that the Gay, Pol*, Chinese and Italian quarters of the city were all involved in the riots suggests that a simple 'this was gay or pol bashing' view of the riots was just that: simplistic. This is not to deny the the brutality shown by the snatch squads when operating in the Gay or Pol quarter of the city. Indeed in any overly 'civilised' society a public inquiry of some sort would have happened.
The Manchester riots lasted 5 days and over 1,000 Snatchies were deployed. 100 people were alleged to have died in the riots although due to extensive fire damage the true figure will never be known. Certainly 60 bodies were recovered and 451 people were hospitalised with fire, gunshot and tazer injuries. Things were so bad at one point that the city and surrounding region was declared a Grade P disaster zone. This needs to be set in the context that the hunger riots in Glasburgh only resulted in a Grade M disaster declaration.
*Pol(s) slang term for for polyamorists who openly have more than one loving intimate relationship at any one time. As a group they seemed to have emerged around 1972 ( in the old PPM calendar)
Wednesday, 24 June 2009
Next meeting with Xavier
[More creative writing stuff]
My next meeting with Xavier was different. He seemed to have lost something, some of his edge, some of his vitality. It was as if he was truly becoming the down and out that I didn't believe he really was. Was this change in him a consequence of his contact with the Naylorites - a contact I had facilitated? Or was it something different?
I soon found out. We met in the back terrace garden of a local i-cafe-bar Tring. Xavier was more or less hidden behind a pillar and as he told me 'the owner is an old Buddhist friend of mine'. Xavier had a haunted look to him.
'How goes?' I asked conversationally.
'Not well Biblbo' I was startled once again by his use of my old nickname. I looked inquiringly at him.
'They are after me' Paranoia or what?
'Who?'
'I'm not sure. Could be your lot, the Dark Cyclists-'
'No,' I shook my head, 'not my lot and don't spread such rumours'
'OK'' he replied in a skeptical voice.
'Not my lot!' I said more emphatically.
'OK. OK but someone is... I got beaten up yesterday.'
'Oh.... sorry to hear that but isn't that an occupational hazard?'
'Yes but they were professionals, I could feel the difference.'
'But why?'
'To warn me off.'
'Off what?'
'Off... the Naylorites I think.... Unless they did it'
'Not likely they are ex Quakers and so are pacifists.'
'Oh yeah, there's a tale or two I could tell you about them.'
'Another time' the last thing I wanted to hear was Xavier slagging off the Naylorites.
'Is there somewhere you can go?'
'I rather hoped you would know a place.'
'Hmm'
It happened so suddenly. A shadow loomed over our table and a hand seized Xavier and another hand firmly pressed me in the chest back into my seat. It was an i-snatch squad*, no use resisting them otherwise we would both be 'tazed, dazed and fazed'.
They took Xavier away but left me - why? - luck on my part or were they already watching me and waiting? Almost certainly but what use was I to them - obviously more than I realised. Surely the groups of 19 were not that strong, not that much of a threat? After all we were only trying like a number of groups in our own confused chaotic way to co-ordinate the administration of things including the supply of food and other services rather than the government of people which was now way beyond a joke.
*I-snatch squad - semi autonomous squads but government resourced at a distance, independent of the police and the armed forces. Set up in i2018 or thereabouts. Formed largely from ex service men and women. Famous for not even bothering to wear any identification but always dressed in dark blue designer shell suits well tooled up with the latest tazers and communication equipment including i-blockers. Infamous for their break up of the Pets Pandemonia live-in in Manchester which resulted in the Manchester riots of i2020.
My next meeting with Xavier was different. He seemed to have lost something, some of his edge, some of his vitality. It was as if he was truly becoming the down and out that I didn't believe he really was. Was this change in him a consequence of his contact with the Naylorites - a contact I had facilitated? Or was it something different?
I soon found out. We met in the back terrace garden of a local i-cafe-bar Tring. Xavier was more or less hidden behind a pillar and as he told me 'the owner is an old Buddhist friend of mine'. Xavier had a haunted look to him.
'How goes?' I asked conversationally.
'Not well Biblbo' I was startled once again by his use of my old nickname. I looked inquiringly at him.
'They are after me' Paranoia or what?
'Who?'
'I'm not sure. Could be your lot, the Dark Cyclists-'
'No,' I shook my head, 'not my lot and don't spread such rumours'
'OK'' he replied in a skeptical voice.
'Not my lot!' I said more emphatically.
'OK. OK but someone is... I got beaten up yesterday.'
'Oh.... sorry to hear that but isn't that an occupational hazard?'
'Yes but they were professionals, I could feel the difference.'
'But why?'
'To warn me off.'
'Off what?'
'Off... the Naylorites I think.... Unless they did it'
'Not likely they are ex Quakers and so are pacifists.'
'Oh yeah, there's a tale or two I could tell you about them.'
'Another time' the last thing I wanted to hear was Xavier slagging off the Naylorites.
'Is there somewhere you can go?'
'I rather hoped you would know a place.'
'Hmm'
It happened so suddenly. A shadow loomed over our table and a hand seized Xavier and another hand firmly pressed me in the chest back into my seat. It was an i-snatch squad*, no use resisting them otherwise we would both be 'tazed, dazed and fazed'.
They took Xavier away but left me - why? - luck on my part or were they already watching me and waiting? Almost certainly but what use was I to them - obviously more than I realised. Surely the groups of 19 were not that strong, not that much of a threat? After all we were only trying like a number of groups in our own confused chaotic way to co-ordinate the administration of things including the supply of food and other services rather than the government of people which was now way beyond a joke.
*I-snatch squad - semi autonomous squads but government resourced at a distance, independent of the police and the armed forces. Set up in i2018 or thereabouts. Formed largely from ex service men and women. Famous for not even bothering to wear any identification but always dressed in dark blue designer shell suits well tooled up with the latest tazers and communication equipment including i-blockers. Infamous for their break up of the Pets Pandemonia live-in in Manchester which resulted in the Manchester riots of i2020.
Tuesday, 23 June 2009
Challenging dragons
Cool cloudy day with very little breeze but if feels like it will soon get warmer. Feels like a great potential cycling day but I have meetings most of the day but I am promising myself a bike day on Friday, if the weather holds good. I haven't had a bike day for ages, not this year indeed so I am probably a bit rusty even if my bike isn't. There's a bike route that goes the length of Wales (challenging the dragon!)and I want to do it soon but it may have to be next year.
I feel I have been rather caught up in work matters. It's felt full on since September and the block put on developing my Kenyan work and the turning down of my application for promotion has rather knocked the stuffing out of me. But there is more to it. I feel this urge to offer something a bit different, something from my maturity and I don't seem to be able to have a sensible conversation with anyone in my institution about this.
So who knows how this will play out? Meanwhile to paraphrase Cromwell I will trust in the Lord but keep my powder dry. And also meanwhile I have some speaking gigs coming up (no academic ones not poetic ones yet!) Cirencester next week then Bristol in mid July and then Reading in mid September. Such exotic places! But actually a chance to connect with differing audiences around my passion of spirituality. So maybe this an expression of offering something else!
As ever watch this space, send me an email!
best to all,
Bill-on-bike.
PS Sheila and Grace are at Wimbledon for the tennis having queued up overnight for tickets on the Sunday. Very British do with tents and toilets. They were number 850 in the queue! Yesterday they were sat behind the umpire and so I got a fleeting glimpse of Grace last night on channel 301.
I feel I have been rather caught up in work matters. It's felt full on since September and the block put on developing my Kenyan work and the turning down of my application for promotion has rather knocked the stuffing out of me. But there is more to it. I feel this urge to offer something a bit different, something from my maturity and I don't seem to be able to have a sensible conversation with anyone in my institution about this.
So who knows how this will play out? Meanwhile to paraphrase Cromwell I will trust in the Lord but keep my powder dry. And also meanwhile I have some speaking gigs coming up (no academic ones not poetic ones yet!) Cirencester next week then Bristol in mid July and then Reading in mid September. Such exotic places! But actually a chance to connect with differing audiences around my passion of spirituality. So maybe this an expression of offering something else!
As ever watch this space, send me an email!
best to all,
Bill-on-bike.
PS Sheila and Grace are at Wimbledon for the tennis having queued up overnight for tickets on the Sunday. Very British do with tents and toilets. They were number 850 in the queue! Yesterday they were sat behind the umpire and so I got a fleeting glimpse of Grace last night on channel 301.
Sunday, 21 June 2009
Xavier
When I met Xavier again he had fallen on hard times. In fact he looked what he had become - a down-and-out as we used to call them. That was a less pejorative term than 'dosser' 'alcky' or 'bum' or the More post modern term of abuse 'wireless' IE unable to link up up to the net - unplugged and unpluggable.
I don't know if Xavier was his real name. I just knew him as that from our software days at i-in the publicprivate puter company big in the i1990s. In those days he was a neo Buddhist and wore those Eastern influenced print clothes that were briefly fashionable in the late i1980s.
Xavier used to have that strange shaved head look as a Buddhist long before it became a fashionable (old)company man statement and a rather straggly moustache. But the Xavier who blocked my way that morning had long greasy grey hair and a beard to match. He was thinner than I remember him - no trace of the buddhabelly we used to tease him about. Unfortunately he was so close to me that I was are that he stank.
'Billbo, ' he said.
'Er', I was puzzled to be so addressed. Billbo was a nickname that no one had used in over 20 years.
'It's me Xavier.'
'Whaaat... no, no' I couldn't process the idea that this wreck of a person was my old friend Xavier.
'Yes, yes it's me.'
'Bloody hell'
He just looked at me with a sad smile. I held out my hand. He shook it slowly and firmly and said,'now any chance you could buy me a breakfast?'
'Of course... veggie I suppose?'
'And GM free if possible, I've still got some standards.'
'Yes'
'We found a nearby Cyber-Cafe-Bar with some outside tables and chairs. He ordered a full veggie with a cappuccino and I had my usual - Teckie special with an e-power drink.
'There's More of us 'on the road' these days.'
'I hadn't really noticed.'
'Well you wouldn't, would you. You never were that aware of the outside world.'
'Perhaps not... but what happened to you?'
'It doesn't matter.'
'No?'
'No. What matters is what happens next.'
'Sure.'
'We are one of the 19.'
'Oh,' I was gobsmacked.
'Close your mouth, it's unbecoming and your breathe smells.'
'But'
'But what?'
'You're on the streets.'
'Yes, so?'
'But'
'It's the best place to be right now. N o one takes any notice of us. We are able to listen in, plug into the networks on the quiet and then move on.'
'Oh.'
'Close your mouth again. The thing is we need your help in contacting the Naylorites.'
'Er, why?'
'None of your business why. The less you know'
'The safer I will be. I know everyone keeps telling me that.'
'Well its true'...'Thank you sire, thank you so much' Xavier said and awkwardly stood up.
Frankie and Stacey was approaching our table. Xavier winked at me and melted away.
'Who was that? demanded Stacey?
'Oh just some wireless.'
'I hope you didn't give him any money or e-credit?'
'Naw.'
'So what are you guys up to?'
Stacey and Frankie needed little excuse or invitation to tell me in great detail about the e-party they went to the night before, who was there ('Anybody who was anybody, but where were you?' demanded Frankie)who said what or rather who texted what to whom and so on. After a while I made my excuses and left.
I don't know if Xavier was his real name. I just knew him as that from our software days at i-in the publicprivate puter company big in the i1990s. In those days he was a neo Buddhist and wore those Eastern influenced print clothes that were briefly fashionable in the late i1980s.
Xavier used to have that strange shaved head look as a Buddhist long before it became a fashionable (old)company man statement and a rather straggly moustache. But the Xavier who blocked my way that morning had long greasy grey hair and a beard to match. He was thinner than I remember him - no trace of the buddhabelly we used to tease him about. Unfortunately he was so close to me that I was are that he stank.
'Billbo, ' he said.
'Er', I was puzzled to be so addressed. Billbo was a nickname that no one had used in over 20 years.
'It's me Xavier.'
'Whaaat... no, no' I couldn't process the idea that this wreck of a person was my old friend Xavier.
'Yes, yes it's me.'
'Bloody hell'
He just looked at me with a sad smile. I held out my hand. He shook it slowly and firmly and said,'now any chance you could buy me a breakfast?'
'Of course... veggie I suppose?'
'And GM free if possible, I've still got some standards.'
'Yes'
'We found a nearby Cyber-Cafe-Bar with some outside tables and chairs. He ordered a full veggie with a cappuccino and I had my usual - Teckie special with an e-power drink.
'There's More of us 'on the road' these days.'
'I hadn't really noticed.'
'Well you wouldn't, would you. You never were that aware of the outside world.'
'Perhaps not... but what happened to you?'
'It doesn't matter.'
'No?'
'No. What matters is what happens next.'
'Sure.'
'We are one of the 19.'
'Oh,' I was gobsmacked.
'Close your mouth, it's unbecoming and your breathe smells.'
'But'
'But what?'
'You're on the streets.'
'Yes, so?'
'But'
'It's the best place to be right now. N o one takes any notice of us. We are able to listen in, plug into the networks on the quiet and then move on.'
'Oh.'
'Close your mouth again. The thing is we need your help in contacting the Naylorites.'
'Er, why?'
'None of your business why. The less you know'
'The safer I will be. I know everyone keeps telling me that.'
'Well its true'...'Thank you sire, thank you so much' Xavier said and awkwardly stood up.
Frankie and Stacey was approaching our table. Xavier winked at me and melted away.
'Who was that? demanded Stacey?
'Oh just some wireless.'
'I hope you didn't give him any money or e-credit?'
'Naw.'
'So what are you guys up to?'
Stacey and Frankie needed little excuse or invitation to tell me in great detail about the e-party they went to the night before, who was there ('Anybody who was anybody, but where were you?' demanded Frankie)who said what or rather who texted what to whom and so on. After a while I made my excuses and left.
Friday, 19 June 2009
What's the score
Well, I was disappointed not to make the final 12 of the Poetic Republic competition, though I enjoyed acting as a judge like every other participant. However I have just found out that I made the second stage indeed my poem was 33rd out of 310.
I can live with that. Here's the poem again
On meeting Pam again after 30 years
I was ill
Sitting at a table
In the Art Gallery
Awaiting a friendly bowl of soup
"Is it Bill?" a voice said
And I looked up
And saw
a grey haired woman
With a somewhat familiar face
"It's Pam" you said
"Of course, I replied
Time travelling
back and forth
Over 30 years
From the blond haired young woman
Of spirit
- who I loved
To this defeated short grey haired mature woman
Were you time travelling too?
But at least you had the advantage on me
Of seeing me at a distance before coming over
I told you of the recent deaths
Of Mole and Woody
You had not heard
You'd been mad on a psychie ward
You told me you were here with your OT
And not to let on I knew you
Oh my God paranoia on your part
Or playing safe self care
You left me
With a whiff of our shared and separate histories
of sadness, of time passing
Of my survival and flourishing
Of your survival by your fingertips
Isn't life strange?
I can live with that. Here's the poem again
On meeting Pam again after 30 years
I was ill
Sitting at a table
In the Art Gallery
Awaiting a friendly bowl of soup
"Is it Bill?" a voice said
And I looked up
And saw
a grey haired woman
With a somewhat familiar face
"It's Pam" you said
"Of course, I replied
Time travelling
back and forth
Over 30 years
From the blond haired young woman
Of spirit
- who I loved
To this defeated short grey haired mature woman
Were you time travelling too?
But at least you had the advantage on me
Of seeing me at a distance before coming over
I told you of the recent deaths
Of Mole and Woody
You had not heard
You'd been mad on a psychie ward
You told me you were here with your OT
And not to let on I knew you
Oh my God paranoia on your part
Or playing safe self care
You left me
With a whiff of our shared and separate histories
of sadness, of time passing
Of my survival and flourishing
Of your survival by your fingertips
Isn't life strange?
Thursday, 18 June 2009
Musing on music
So on Tuesday at my piano lesson doing a bit of voice work my range developed from only being one octave to adding on 3 extra notes taking me just about to Middle C which according to Rebbecca my music teacher was good for a Bass. That aside I was also hitting the notes more clearly. Rebbecca plays a note on the piano and then I copy it. It was that bit easier to go down the scale than usual and I was able to move between singing two notes that were 2 noted apart up and then down. To those who understand this stuff it is no big deal. To me at 59 years old never being able to do this stuff and never even having any encouragement or support this is a minor miracle. What if, as a child someone had sat me down with a piano or thrust a wind instrument into my arms and said 'Try this?'
Anyway I am being shown how amazing learning is at any age. I thought I was too old that this stuff was like a lot of language stuff and had to be learnt young. Rebbecca says no and its true. I feel sorry for her some times stuck with such a basic learner as me and I am not as fast or as promising as some of the younger ones BUT I don't lack motivation or lack enjoyment in what I can do. My maternal grandmother used to say 'Count your blessings' I am with regard to music.
One of my dreams is to be able to play the piano and sing my old time favourite Pets song 'Red Letter Day'. This is going to take some time. Firstly because the musical score is actually quite complex for me. Secondly singing and playing at the same time is beyond me at present. Getting my two hands to work together well enough is still challenging let alone singing as well. Thirdly Red Letter Day is pitched at the start 2 octaves above my range. When I shared this with Grace she transposed it down 2 octaves. Fine at the start by then Neil suddenly drops two octaves and that was too low for me. So if I am ever going to sing Red Letter Day I need to extend my range by at least an octave! Well 2 or 3 notes last Tuesday was a start.
Watch this space and who knows I'll Youtube myself someday. I am on Youtube somewhere talking about Friends but that's another story and I've lost the link!
Best to all,
Bill-on-bike
Anyway I am being shown how amazing learning is at any age. I thought I was too old that this stuff was like a lot of language stuff and had to be learnt young. Rebbecca says no and its true. I feel sorry for her some times stuck with such a basic learner as me and I am not as fast or as promising as some of the younger ones BUT I don't lack motivation or lack enjoyment in what I can do. My maternal grandmother used to say 'Count your blessings' I am with regard to music.
One of my dreams is to be able to play the piano and sing my old time favourite Pets song 'Red Letter Day'. This is going to take some time. Firstly because the musical score is actually quite complex for me. Secondly singing and playing at the same time is beyond me at present. Getting my two hands to work together well enough is still challenging let alone singing as well. Thirdly Red Letter Day is pitched at the start 2 octaves above my range. When I shared this with Grace she transposed it down 2 octaves. Fine at the start by then Neil suddenly drops two octaves and that was too low for me. So if I am ever going to sing Red Letter Day I need to extend my range by at least an octave! Well 2 or 3 notes last Tuesday was a start.
Watch this space and who knows I'll Youtube myself someday. I am on Youtube somewhere talking about Friends but that's another story and I've lost the link!
Best to all,
Bill-on-bike
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