Indecently Funny Black Humour

  I recently dug a copy of 'Indecent Exposure' out of the loft and read it for the first time in years.  It's the second book about the Kommandant of a ludicrously incompetant South African police station in the time of Apartheid.  The things they get up to will either have you laughing uncontrollablly, or shocked (its not for the politically correct).

For much of the week I was reading it I was either in tears or breathless with laughter.   I last read it back in the late 80's and had forgotten just how funny the author 'Tom Sharpe' can be.

You need a broad mind for this one, but I can highly recommend both this and its predecessor 'Rightous Assembly'.

The Power of Music

I heard a rendition of an old Glam Rock record on 'Glee' recently and had a new lease of life, dancing around my living room like a teenager.  I decided to have a nosey on Amazon and when it wasn't there, on the internet in general to see if could find it.

I found it, and a whole lot more.  I also dug out some CDs that I have not played in ages and have been dancing around the house full of vim and vigour.  The effect music can have on both mind and body is really quite stunning isn't it?

I also stumbled across and old record that a friend had played at a recent birthday party.  Now when I went looking for that record, I just could not find it - but found it by accident when I was looking for something else entirely!  Why does the Interent love to play tricks on us all in that way?  It's called "Never Let her Slip her away".  It struck a particular chord at the time because I was in a long distance relationship at the time and begins reference to talking on the telephone.  That song is now inextricably linked with memories of her.

The power of music to make your feet want to move, your heart to soar, or long lost memories to be as vivid as if they happened yesterday it really something quite magical, almost divine isn't it?

Thoughts on God

I recently got back into contact with somebody whom I loved very deeply.  My conversations with her brought back a whole load of memories I had lost when I suffered amensia as a result of illness ten years ago.  A whole load of memories, both from the time she and were sweethearts and from way back in my child hood, came rushing back in a thrilling avalanche of lost memories. She hails from the Bible Belt and was very disturbed when I remarked, during a conversation last November, that I was not sure whether I believed in God or not.   She did however inspire me to become curious about about religion and about God again.  She is a generally inspirational kinda lady.

Over the course of the next few months I remembered more vividly than ever before that I had died on an operating table when a child for a whole five minutes, during that time I floated out of my own body, saw myself on the table, a discarded scalpel many feet up on top of a lighting unit, and then a strange and disturbing 'flight' into heaven.  I was greeted by a group of family members who had passed away, and a group of seven or more people I did not recognise.  Then a grandfather figure walked through the crowd and told me 'you cannot stay, it is not your time, and I have work for you to do'.  I felt very calm around him, like that sensation when you feel you have known somebody all your life, but much much stronger.  Somebody from the crowd walked over to me, and said 'I need to take you back now' - never a kid to take instruction from stangers I protested that I did not want to go (it was heaven after all) and demanded to know who the Grandad figure was - "you just need to know he is the man in charge up here".  When I asked "who are you" the figure answered cryptically "we are the apostles" rather than giving his name.  I was the kinda kid that insisted on asnwers to questions, curious as hell, so this answer infuriated me.  It was only when the surgeon told me he had found that old scalpel 7ft in the air that I became quite certain this was much more than a dream.  He on the other hand was dumbfounded.

In part due to early part of my childhood being kinda rough, in part due to my horror at the Northern Ireland conflict being fought in the name or religion - I slowly had more and more doubts about religion that turned into doubts about God himself.  There was a time I was conviced he could not exist.  Given that I had met the Guy, it was kinda silly.  I guess it took a lot of years and this special lady to make me realise again that believing in God, or even having a connection to him is a very different thing from having faith in any particular religion.  Thinking about it though, I know he exists, so its something more than belief isn't it?

Go on stroke me if you Dare!

For me a connecton to God is less about going to church, or even reading the bible he's more that voice in your head that lets you know people are right for you, or wrong for you despite all logic.  He's the instinct that makes you want to go half way around the world to meet a true friend.  He's that little voice in your head that makes you want to treat your new girlfreind's daughter as though she were your own.  He's the magnetic force that causes normally ferocious tom cats to purr and rub up against those who have cool nerves and warm hearts because God is truly walking with them and within them.

Having refound my connection to God, I have a wonderful serenity about my mood and far broader shoulders that I have had in recent years.  It's a nice and strangely contented feeling.  I guess now I need only work out what his 'special purpose' for me was - now there's a question eh?