Cold Break before Disney

"Kittens' skulls cracked open and electrodes inserted into their brains in shocking series of experiments at 9 UK universities including Cambridge"

Its certainly not headline to win friends, and positively horrifies a wildlife lover like me (as a boy growing up in a wild, green corner of Wales, I adored animals and even attempted to save newts when winter froze our ponds over). I am not exactly thrilled with animal experiments and would, like most caring human beings, prefer living in a world where such barbarism is not necessary but the cold fact is we don't.
Strip away the Disney blinkers and fluffy hearts and the world reveals its naked colour: life is hard, often cruel and extremely unforgiving. This isn't a place of abundant mercy or good deeds. Sure kindness exists but by and large in order to survive a lifetime on planet Earth, you need to be hard or risk being crushed like a toy soldier. (Im really selling this planet to any alien that might read blogs huh?)
Oh we try our damndest to dull the pain, using reality television, videogames, movies and social media in a vain attempt to ignore the raw knocks but it remains in place no matter what. Life is hard, nobody ever said it would be fair. Bogeymen exist at every turn in the form of cancer, dementia, etc and if experiments on animals lead to a breakthrough cure then I'll roll with it regardless of the genuine pity I feel. I dont wish to sound "combatative" here but I take it those against experiments wouldn't accept breakthrough treatment?
Its so easy using mere words, and ive heard some folks claim that they would prefer to suffer before an innocent creature, which is all very admirable but im afraid I cannot believe it. Like I said, words are easy with no threat of danger but if faced with a very real and very lethal terminal illness I wonder if opinions would change? I'd wager good money on it being so.
Death has ruined many a brave souls intention when faced with the final chapter of their lives because you know...death is DEATH and nobody in receipt of a clean bill of health wants to die. I don't care how many dogs or animal charities they help. And take it from someone who has come close to breathing their last: its frightening (to say the least) and most folks would give a barrel load of kittens in order to extend their mortality. Even by just a day.
Add in the fact that 21st century morals are pretty screwed when you consider how much meat most people eat while they condemn things like hunting, and things look even more grim for those purty looking cats. Nobody likes the idea of scientists sticking needles into animals in the name of medicine but if the endgame is triumph over cancer then its worth it no? I realise this subject is like a cold, hard slap in the chops that sobers us up from our coffee laced, fluffy fairytale and the hangover is one we would rather not face but still it remains.

Last Of The Dark

The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living ~ Cicero

Death has never been a solemn subject to me, it is has never been taboo. It is fact that I have attended more funerals than weddings but not once have I shed a single tear (and these were close family members). Now before I am accused of being "unfeeling", allow me to explain. I have such a strong belief of a sweet Afterlife, I believe we ALL go there, good or bad, that whenever I find myself standing graveside I am so convinced the departed have "ascended to a better place" (to be glib about it) that no sadness will emerge. Not even by force. No amount of pleasant memories, or clenching fists or straining veins will tempt sorrow from its den.
At times I have wondered if I was simply cold or indifferent toward death but as the years turn into sheaths of grey, I realise my emotions are in check, their pulse alive and screaming. I believe. That is as simple as it gets.
Indeed if I was stood before a Judge about to sentence me to death, or a doctor about to deliver my cancer act in deadly script, I would more than likely grin in reply. (Of course I don't know 100% for sure of that smirking reply but I could lay my heart on it being 95% certain). Naturally I am wary of DYING but the actual DEATH part? Im no more afraid of it than razor steel is to flesh. Or a crocodile to butterfly (but I am being blown off course now).
For me, death has no end and therefore no sorrow. My bones might miss the company and mortal flashes of the deceased but I know, nay feel, that as the coffin is being lowered into its earthly haven or obliterated by flame, that the soul of Man is rising like a stunned eagle into realms where even the finest pearls would look as lowly as paupers rags. Shrugging off mortality and disease as it lifts unto the sanctity of unknown. And these brief shards of endless joy penetrate my mind so deeply, embedding themselves like euphoric clots, that sadness is obliterated, unable to bring me to my knees.
I have my humanity, feelings, and good many things will reduce me to tears but weeping for the dead is beyond my hearts grasp. I think too much, believe I even know too much and doubt can never get over the threshold of my imagination/beliefs to even begin to try and shatter these ideas. Of course every man will have weak moments, and being a man prone to sometimes rampant, wild emotion there are often times when all I am able to imagine after my pulse is done is a wall of black, blinding in its finality.

Not often I am happy to report. Often a good dose of Welsh coastal air or the sight of a buzzard hunting for its supper will remedy that.

No Sickness Please, We're British

I could have used the title of Metallica's debut album for this post, "Kill 'Em All", it would certainly be accurate. Why? Because its about ATOS, the wretched private firm that carries out our Government's work capability assessments. Today we hear the news about 49 year old Linda Wootton, a double heart and lung transplant patient who passed away NINE DAYS after her disability benefits were stopped and shockingly was told to go back to work.
This was a lady who was taking ten prescription drugs a day and suffered from renal failure, high blood pressure and blackouts. Sound fit to you? The wretched ATOS thought so because after an interviewed with them, they ruled against her and she was ordered to find a job. And this isn't the first time this has happened, Google 'Atos fit for work deaths' and you will be faced with multiple tragic stories. Tragedies that could well have been avoided if our Government hadn't decided to unleash a monster on the disabled. These words might sound harsh to some but they are forged out of anger and sadness at seeing my fellow man suffer even more than they already do.
Ladies and Gentlemen of Great Britain, the evidence is crystal clear. Both the wretched ATOS and the Department for Work and Pensions are utterly heartless and only pretend to be sympathetic to their victims. Don't believe it! And whoever makes these decisions for terminally sick people to find work should be put on trial for manslaughter.