In Care of a Mortal Thread

Hedd, Perfaith Hedd

This could be an extension to an earlier post about the frailness of life, and however much a heavy heart that is behind the force that wills me to write it, write I must.
Such dreadful news last week when we heard of the mini bus crash on the M62 near Pontefract which killed one girl and seriously injured a dozen others (indeed the bride to be may never walk again.) On their merry way to celebrate a hen party, about as far from the thoughts of death as you could ever hope to be, and in an instant their world is cruelly shattered forever. A sobering jerk back into dreadful reality.
What a foul blow! How mercilessly each and every one of us are shadowed by death; a fragile thread which anchors us to life but at any second could end with less force than a sparrows heartbeat. One breeze less than the flicker of a flame. Such gentle turbulence that carries mortals onward through collared mists, on roads, on seas and valleys of wild woods.
This should serve as a reminder that however bad life may seem, the clockwork of the heart must continue or else be doomed to an even earlier grave, where the cancer of misery cuts down human roots without pity or care. Death is not a solves solver of problems, it simply hides them better while sadness cuts to the quick.
Think on these tragic incidents when the smile fades.

RIP Bethany Jones, may the softest lullabies sing you to your rest.

Welcome to the (Death) Party

Cin Cin?

A wise poet once said, "do not dance on your enemies grave, for tomorrow your friend dies." The people planning on holding 'death parties' in celebration of Margaret Thatchers death would do well to heed these words. Its perfectly monstrous to think that human beings could stoop so low as to want to raise a glass to a fellow humans passing. How low can ye go? Baroness Thatcher might not have been everyones cup of tea (to say the least) but at the end of the day, this was a very ill 87 year lady who has left us and it is hardly time for celebration. Not if you fancy keeping a shred of humanity and dignity.
The time for cheering was when Lady T resigned. All the hatred aimed at her in life has no purpose now but to serve anger itself because she is in her eternal sleep of jewelled flowers and golden tea, where drafts of rage can no longer touch her. And considering how the Iron Lady would have swatted any petty criticism aside like a tiger toying with a shrew when she was alive, I cannot think how these foul sounding 'death parties' will be anything other than proof of how low man can sink. Only the most ignorant and stupid will gain a scrap of joy from popping a cork over a coffin.
And these are generally the liberal types who have the gall to call me barbaric for supporting the death penalty! Listen, the next time you fellows accuse me (and the Conservatives) of being uncaring, cruel and evil, Mr Jakes will remind them of this behaviour.

Houston, We Have A Problem

Whitney Houston is dead.
And Piers Morgan has said said "Bobby Brown is the man everybody wishes Whitney never met. Her life spiraled out of control when she did."

Thats right, blame someone else. Its eaier. But its utter nonsense. I know a fair bit about drugs as it happens and thats like saying Sid Vicious' life was wrecked by Nancy. (She introduced Sid to heroin). But here's the rub, he would have found heroin on his own with or without her. Houston would have to, believe me. I took hard drugs myself and it wasn't peer pressure, I wanted them. So did Sid, so did this Houston woman.
Piers obviously hasn't a clue as to what he's talking about. The simple fact of the matter is that Houston partied hard (as she loved doing) only this time she lost. Good game girl! I know my end will come much the same way, I expect it. And won't be the least bit sorry when it happens.
Those of us who love to indulge in the wilder side of life know the risks and a fair few are quite willing to pay the dear price.
But I understand the common man's wish to put the blame on somebody else, like I said, its easier.