Is Britain Getting Better or Worse for Women and Children?

Modern life is a minefield, but I guess it always was. There’s always a greenYgrey struggle between freedom and responsibility, danger and safety. To feel really alive means stimulating the brain somehow, taking it out of the norm, and that is usually when you put yourself most at risk, like an animal leaving its burrow to find food, or just play.

My Thoughts, Life and Living

Throughout my books over the last decade I’ve tried to warn of life’s dangers, as I left youthful adulthood and crossed into middle-aged adulthood. My first memoir warned of the dangers I encountered hitch-hiking and sleeping rough around Europe. My poetry collections and fantasy travel books have criticised the establishment’s treatment of children, from transporting them to abuse in the commonwealth or at home in children’s homes (often run by religions), to ignoring the modern grooming epidemic.

However, it seems so embedded, and now being strengthened by patriarchal multiculturalism, and modern technology, that things seem to be getting worse. A newspaper report into sexism in the police force reminded me of my last university department; while reports of bullying and harassment, including sexual favours bribes at Sports Direct reminded me of the day job. Keith Vaz’s exposure didn’t seem that shocking to most, or his wife staying with him!

So the hierarchy having their own way with the poor, like in Victorian times, and many cultures around the world that are now rising in Britain, seems the future!

Anyway, I’m still going to wait for the right woman, so if all the other women want to prefer the men who shower them with cheesy compliments and buying-a-piece-of-meat money, please feel free to do so… but don’t blame me if you end up being used or ‘imprisoned’!

I want everybody to have a good a life as possible, achieving their ambitions, and pushing themselves to their limits. I don’t want to hold you back, or stop you enjoying your life. I’m just warning about some of the dangers I’ve encountered.

It hasn’t stopped me risking myself, so I don’t really expect it to have much influence on you!

Looking at it self-critically, albeit giving ammunition to my critics who can’t think green or grey let alone greenYgrey, maybe it’s just me needing to write something, in my PinkyOrangePop (POP) twilight years, to make it seem as if my life has been worthwhile!!

The first half of the next episode of XaW Files: Beyond Humanity contemplates some of the above issues, after setting the scene, before lightening the mood by continuing to travel through Hungary with some comedy wordplay.

Chapter 4 Episode 3

Soaring in the Skies
laptop controls on thighs
listening to A+N Everyday
viewing birds celebrate play.

Mary’s Mind Mined

If people have the choice between those who say they don’t love them and those who say they do is it any surprise that they choose the latter even if they know they are simply suspending reality for however short a time to believe the illusion.

1980s rock audiences wanted to hear they were the best metal crowd ever, and believe the bands were godlike, even when they knew it was partly theatrical and part of a stage show, repeated each night of the tour. I did anyway.

I might think it was because I was young then, and it was all new, but it was the time too, before grunge shook up the system in the 1990s, as punk did with classic rock and pomp in the 1970s.

Do I regret those times of innocence, paying money for illusions? No. Do I think less of those rock musicians, now the illusion has faded. No.

Thinking more about it, maybe each new night did feel like it was the best to them, as they were living in the present, rather than the past or future. So it could have been half truth and half storytelling, greenYgreying style, rather than totally truth or lie. It was only rock n’ roll theatre anyway.

So why should I feel the need to warn the younger generation of image and untruths. Not for the innocent illusions and theatrics, just the religious and politically manipulative and media cultish.

Do You Mind?

After the long time spent in Gyöngyös, and philosophical introduction from our new arrival on this ramble, who just happens to be our philosophy correspondent, I thought this episode only needed to undertake the relatively short journey from Gyöngyös to Budapest to keep you happy… and me… for if I think you’re happy then that makes me happy… for I write this not for those who don’t read it… to this writing, they don’t exist… but, yes, you’re probably right, I do write it for myself too… but would I write it if I wasn’t thinking of you, and making you happy… I don’t think so… not now anyway, not any more… There was a time… I started out keeping a diary just for me… but those days now seem an eternity… away… good job that I do think that then… that’s if there’s anybody who’s going to enjoy reading it… you see, that’s how the greenYgrey mind works… without certainty… a world of doubt… without answers… always more questions… always moving forward… but with time spent looking back in reflection… as in 242 Mirror Poems and Reflections!

Ready to Ramble

‘Are you ready to ramble?’ Love asked. ‘You look lost in thought. Not that I can see into your mind or anything. I unfortunately didn’t get any extra special powers when my sight returned.’

‘Sorry Love,’ I replied. ‘It’s just that Mary’s philosophy got me thinking. You know, I think philosophical thought inspires more philosophical thought. It does for me anyway, like a domino effect; if I hear or read something that stimulates my noggin’s neurons it can lead to a whole succession of thoughts and theories, flowing like a waterfall, until the storm water eventually subsides. Anyway, returning to reality, yes, I’m most certainly ready to ramble…’

Gyöngyös to Budapest

We decided to walk while hitch-hiking, after seeing on Google Maps that it was less than an hour’s journey by car.

‘We’d better watch out for the trolls!’ warned Love.

Mary looked closer at the map, before correcting Love, ‘That says tolls Love. They can be a pain, but do not pose the potential threat of trolls.’

‘That’s okay then,’ said Love. ‘It’s a relief to hear there’s no trolls, and that my eyesight is back to its normal greenYgrey state of muddlement!’

Love started to enjoy itself once we had a lift from Hatvan with a van delivering hats. The driver was a gran called Fran.


There was a Time is a GnR song.

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