Fear is the key
It was a very good film, early 70´s I think (at a certain age time seems to do strange acrobatics; either it shrinks or it expands), and the best car chase I recall seeing on screen. The chase opened the film and there after fear gripped you where it hurt most until the doors of the auditorium opened to fresh air and the nearest pub looked far away.
The pharmaceuticals giants and their shareholders know no fear but they mastermind ours. Fear of bad health or terminal disease is as constant in most of us as ivy on an old brick wall. If you are on remission from cancer you never have a common headache. You think you have a brain tumour. A pain in the back after a gentle hour of gardening takes astronomical proportions. Panic attack sets in and to top it all the heart is beating a tattoo in rapid sequences. Breathing becomes erratic. You are in for it. The chemical super giants know too well that we are pounded daily with new anxieties and that eventually we succumb to the facility of taking that little pill that will make all the difference. In their pocket and out of ours. They must think that we are a couple of bricks short of the top of the wall. They are right. We are. Fear of ill health in all of us is the key for them to keep their coffers topped up and their shareholders happy.
I must admit that the alternative medicines, mostly made of unknown herbs growing on the yaks or camels infested slopes of some distant mountain, taste foul. During our last trip to Morocco we were herded into the most exotic pharmacy selling dried herbs, stored in beautiful antique jars, to cure anything possible under the sun. The constant fear in Morocco is to be taken for a ride. That is totally founded. Every corner, every alleyway is a snare for the unwary and the wary alike and the escape is to buy. I bought some magic herbs (not mushrooms) at the pharmacy where I was assured by white coated assistants that if made like tea (itself a vile brew) this herb will stop my anxiety attacks. Back home I put the kettle on and nearly fell flat on my bad back with the smell that came out of the teapot. Reminded me of the stink of the henhouse and pigsty combined at my grandparent's allotment. The magic herbs went through the plug hole, blocked it and I grabbed for the little pills. Moroccans 1/ Jocelyne Nil.
Governments are fear mongers par excellence. Instilling fear is power. Fear disorientates the man and woman in the street and instinctively the populace turns to their government for guidance. For guidance? Who are those guys who are trying to teach us to suck eggs? They, for the most, are lawyers. To be educated at one of the prestigious universities does not make you automatically intelligent, a scientist, an authority on medical affairs, a specialist in Agriculture and Fisheries or a guru on Education. Still the men from the Ministries administer our lives and we end up living in fear of what might happen if we disobey their decisions.
The tobacco band is still ranking in my throat. We are non-smokers. But everybody is welcome to indulge in our house. That ban has been the death toll of many pubs in UK and else where. You don't want to be subjected to the so-called passive smoking? Then stay at home with a cup of cocoa and watch an Australian soap. It might save your lungs but will be playing havoc with your brain. Alzheimer is made of fat bums crutching the usual IKEA chair and falling asleep in a cocoa stupor. We have one ashtray in the house.
We take it out (clean) when we expect smokers. If we expect tee totals there are always some softies in the fridge. And watch this space: after the ban on smoking the ban on drinking will be in force. We shall be back into the bad old days of prohibition and the bad stuff will hit the streets again." Gin Alley" of Hogarth will reappear but with inner cities background.
All that for nanny states (quite a few in Europe) to feel better when their senior ministers sit in the 24 hours bar in the Houses of Parliament, the Cortes in Madrid, or anywhere else they are ministering, lifting their glasses of vintage malt whisky or superior brand gin to the health of the nation.
Considering that governments get an enormous amount of income revenue from taxes on tobacco and alcoholic drinks where do you think the shortage is going to come from? Your pocket and mine without the enjoyment of a good smoke if you are one of those or a good G&T if you are one of mine.
The fear of eating is rampant. We are advised wrongly that we are eating the wrong foodstuff. The result is that we are looking for E-coli from A to Z into anything. Chicken is bad for you, eggs are taboos, beef carries all sorts of diseases including mad cow virus which seems to have seeped into the brains of the men from the Ministry. Pig is going to be banned any time from now for being one nice animal that will eat anything in his trough. I would shove one of those Ministers very happily in it should I find a free range pig and a free range minister of agriculture. Chance will be a fine thing.
Fish is out of bound. It lives in polluted waters. So what? They live in a morass of detritus left by over fishing and over cruising. Where do you think the waste from all the cabins on so many luxury cruise liners go? I have got a cat like that. She goes into her tray and her head hangs over the hole. She does not want to know what happens at the back. She leaves the tray without covering her offerings and could not care less about me covering it with sand. We basically do the same.
Fear of rubbish is gathering momentum. We have to recycle. Really? A friend of mine was investigating a landfill lately, in Spain. She saw a very heavy truck pulling up. Full of GREEN glass bottles that obviously had been put into the right bins. The truck disgorged its load into the landfill. Together with the rest of normal rubbish.
"What is going on here?" she asked.
The driver shrugged his filthy shoulders and left.
What are we doing? Giving up hope?
The key to fear is to ignore it.
The pharmaceuticals giants and their shareholders know no fear but they mastermind ours. Fear of bad health or terminal disease is as constant in most of us as ivy on an old brick wall. If you are on remission from cancer you never have a common headache. You think you have a brain tumour. A pain in the back after a gentle hour of gardening takes astronomical proportions. Panic attack sets in and to top it all the heart is beating a tattoo in rapid sequences. Breathing becomes erratic. You are in for it. The chemical super giants know too well that we are pounded daily with new anxieties and that eventually we succumb to the facility of taking that little pill that will make all the difference. In their pocket and out of ours. They must think that we are a couple of bricks short of the top of the wall. They are right. We are. Fear of ill health in all of us is the key for them to keep their coffers topped up and their shareholders happy.
I must admit that the alternative medicines, mostly made of unknown herbs growing on the yaks or camels infested slopes of some distant mountain, taste foul. During our last trip to Morocco we were herded into the most exotic pharmacy selling dried herbs, stored in beautiful antique jars, to cure anything possible under the sun. The constant fear in Morocco is to be taken for a ride. That is totally founded. Every corner, every alleyway is a snare for the unwary and the wary alike and the escape is to buy. I bought some magic herbs (not mushrooms) at the pharmacy where I was assured by white coated assistants that if made like tea (itself a vile brew) this herb will stop my anxiety attacks. Back home I put the kettle on and nearly fell flat on my bad back with the smell that came out of the teapot. Reminded me of the stink of the henhouse and pigsty combined at my grandparent's allotment. The magic herbs went through the plug hole, blocked it and I grabbed for the little pills. Moroccans 1/ Jocelyne Nil.
Governments are fear mongers par excellence. Instilling fear is power. Fear disorientates the man and woman in the street and instinctively the populace turns to their government for guidance. For guidance? Who are those guys who are trying to teach us to suck eggs? They, for the most, are lawyers. To be educated at one of the prestigious universities does not make you automatically intelligent, a scientist, an authority on medical affairs, a specialist in Agriculture and Fisheries or a guru on Education. Still the men from the Ministries administer our lives and we end up living in fear of what might happen if we disobey their decisions.
The tobacco band is still ranking in my throat. We are non-smokers. But everybody is welcome to indulge in our house. That ban has been the death toll of many pubs in UK and else where. You don't want to be subjected to the so-called passive smoking? Then stay at home with a cup of cocoa and watch an Australian soap. It might save your lungs but will be playing havoc with your brain. Alzheimer is made of fat bums crutching the usual IKEA chair and falling asleep in a cocoa stupor. We have one ashtray in the house.
We take it out (clean) when we expect smokers. If we expect tee totals there are always some softies in the fridge. And watch this space: after the ban on smoking the ban on drinking will be in force. We shall be back into the bad old days of prohibition and the bad stuff will hit the streets again." Gin Alley" of Hogarth will reappear but with inner cities background.
All that for nanny states (quite a few in Europe) to feel better when their senior ministers sit in the 24 hours bar in the Houses of Parliament, the Cortes in Madrid, or anywhere else they are ministering, lifting their glasses of vintage malt whisky or superior brand gin to the health of the nation.
Considering that governments get an enormous amount of income revenue from taxes on tobacco and alcoholic drinks where do you think the shortage is going to come from? Your pocket and mine without the enjoyment of a good smoke if you are one of those or a good G&T if you are one of mine.
The fear of eating is rampant. We are advised wrongly that we are eating the wrong foodstuff. The result is that we are looking for E-coli from A to Z into anything. Chicken is bad for you, eggs are taboos, beef carries all sorts of diseases including mad cow virus which seems to have seeped into the brains of the men from the Ministry. Pig is going to be banned any time from now for being one nice animal that will eat anything in his trough. I would shove one of those Ministers very happily in it should I find a free range pig and a free range minister of agriculture. Chance will be a fine thing.
Fish is out of bound. It lives in polluted waters. So what? They live in a morass of detritus left by over fishing and over cruising. Where do you think the waste from all the cabins on so many luxury cruise liners go? I have got a cat like that. She goes into her tray and her head hangs over the hole. She does not want to know what happens at the back. She leaves the tray without covering her offerings and could not care less about me covering it with sand. We basically do the same.
Fear of rubbish is gathering momentum. We have to recycle. Really? A friend of mine was investigating a landfill lately, in Spain. She saw a very heavy truck pulling up. Full of GREEN glass bottles that obviously had been put into the right bins. The truck disgorged its load into the landfill. Together with the rest of normal rubbish.
"What is going on here?" she asked.
The driver shrugged his filthy shoulders and left.
What are we doing? Giving up hope?
The key to fear is to ignore it.
Jocelyne
