There is one ‘biblical Book of Revelation-like’ event that I clearly recall intending to include in the list I shared in the second article in this series but didn’t.
That is the Glasgow bin lorry tragedy of December 22, 2014.
Actually that mechanical ‘intelligence’ featuring tragedy is part of a complex web of events in Scotland that I have been tracking, against the backdrop of Scotland’s and Barbados’ pro-independence movements.
So its omission from that list of psycho-socially seismic events is of huge significance to the overall Mouth of the Beast narrative that I am composing.
The fact that I forgot to mention the ‘Scottish’ dimension of this narrative, despite the late Stephen Alleyne’s links to that country and my own and former US Attorney General Eric Holder’s roots in Barbados’ ‘Scotland District’, on the eastern, elevated side of the island, says volumes about the fallibility of human memory, which is the focus of this article.
Here I liken human forgetting to farting, something approaching a necessary evil.
Oh, and before I forget, three things: the Donald’s last name, Trump, is also a slang synonym for ‘fart’ here in England; he has links to Scotland, through his controversial £750 million golf course investment and thirdly, the phonetic and other links between ‘farting’ and ‘wind farms’, which Trump probably used as political footballs to distract attention from other aspects of his investment, are a very significant oracle in this context.
These material and symbolic links open liminal linguistic portals not only to Geoffrey Chaucer’s The Miller’s Tale, where a female’s fart feature’s prominently, but also to the Hindu bovine biogas and related preoccupations, which link in turn to the study of wind in Chaos theory.
Add my recurring exploration of reputed ‘Brahmin’ novelist (or should that be ‘novice’?) VS Naipaul and other ‘alcoholic’ Aryan, power-drunk, principle-impoverished supremacists, like the fascistic schismatic Subhas Chandra Bose and carnivorous, dog-eat-dog capitalist Surinder Kandola into the mix, and one gets a sense of the violent vapours I hope to redeem.
And this is without any reference whatsoever to Lloyds Banks’ Scottish and wider UK trade union links, especially those of my former business relationship manager Daniel Brindley or his Asian colleague who “assisted” me.
I do however mention the fart-like skulduggery of my former English literature teacher Esther Phillips below though.
And I do believe that her links to BBC Scotland are noteworthy.
Media burps and mind farts
Do you ever feel like your butt and your brain have switched places?
Do you ever feel like the term ‘brain fart’ is more than just a metaphor and that the customary contents of your brain’s left and right hemispheres have somehow migrated to your derriere, impairing your optimal self-aware functioning?
Well, I was having that kind of day on Friday, March 18, as I found myself running frantically around Norwich, worrying needlessly about a situation the God I claim to believe in is more than competent to fix.
Isn’t it extraordinary, that for all the earth-shaking wonders of God that theists like me may witness – like the ‘twin-earthquakes’ in England and Barbados that I mentioned in the first article in this series – we are still prone to panic and even become manic, worrying that the manna of the creator’s daily provision for us may cease?
Isn’t it positively terrifying that all our beast-like knowledge and eloquence can in the blinking of an eye be reduced to flatulence?
Chapter 3, verses 1 to 8 of the apostle Paul’s letter to the Philippians makes it clear that he had a very acute sense of this transitory feature of human logic, and especially its religious and other ideological incarnations.
Having listed his various academic and religious distinctions, in verse 8 Paul announces “…I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ.”
And according to official sources the word “skubala” translated “dung” by the King James translators would have been more accurately rendered “sh-t”.
More on that later.
I find humanity’s persistent failure of memory, and especially my own and other theists’ tendency to perennially dwell on our own and other human’s insufficiency, a deeply engrossing mystery.
I see it as a key component of the larger mystery that is the fart-like, fleeting, fragile property of human consciousness and intelligence itself.
I see it as an essential component of the terror of human intelligence, counterbalancing our capacity for the most fragrantly beautiful dreaming and achievement.
And few things have brought this frightful brain fart phenomena to the fore so dramatically as the virtual apostasy of 2016 American presidential hopeful Ben Carson: his endorsement of the race, religion and gender racketeering, deviously demonizing demagogue Donald Trump.
Has there ever been a more spectacular surrender to cynicism by a public figure professing faith in the love-preaching Joshua of Nazareth and his self-sacrificing gospel than Carson’s affixing of his signature to sociopathic, destructive ‘self-love’ epitomizing Trump’s bank-of-hatred blank cheques?
And if there was previously any doubt that Carson had essentially been morally bankrupted by his presidential bid (or, alternately, that the current election cycle has exposed a ‘liquidity of faith’ crisis that he has long lived with), his attempt to rationalise his endorsement of Trump when he appeared on American talk show The View on March 24 has dispelled it.
Pressed by the show’s moderator Whoopi Goldberg to address Trump’s racist comments about Mexicans and his noxious, Neanderthal views on women, Carson uttered what Daily Beast writer Matt Wilstein describes as “possibly the most honest and revealing thing he has said over the course of this entire election cycle.”
Carson, a prominent Seventh Day Adventist influencer said “Let me tell you something, when you’re very nice, when you’re very respectful, you talk about the real issues and not get into all these issues, where does it get you? It gets you where it got me: nowhere.”
But isn’t the urbane congeniality and ‘niceness’ of Barack Obama an important part of the complex of personal characteristics and socio-political circumstances that got him elected president of them thar United States – twice?!
Maybe if Carson had spent less time trying to undermine America’s first black president and more time trying to understand him, he would have cottoned on to this rather elephant’s-dung sized detail of Obama’s electoral success.
Maybe if he, like the divisive Trump, were not too preoccupied with blowing rhetorical raspberries or ventilating violent, vaporous-fart-like ideas about Obama’s links to Islam and other paranoid political invective, Carson would not have found himself in the intellectually insolvent and politically perilous position he is now in.
I am not without sympathy for the prominent African American neurosurgeon though.
In fact, I would happily work with Carson on the linguistic B4 Babel, the “alchemical” Walk on Water and other projects I am currently busying myself with, if he could be persuaded to acknowledge the error of endorsing the Hitler-like Trump and discontinue his British Broadcasting Corporation-like provision of cover for that media manipulator’s Jimmy Savile-like rape of their country.
Why would I not work with the Christian Carson for the benefit of society, on clearly agreed terms, when I am prepared, as previously stated here, to work with Muslim leader Louis Farrakhan and others with whom I differ ideologically?
In fact I actually reached out to Carson via email last year, seeking his support for my work with one of my Holistic Home Care and Hospitality clients in the UK.
And actually, Carson’s patently confused rationalizations and those of other political, academic and religious leaders in the US, UK, Canada, Barbados, India and elsewhere that I have been studying for some time, have convinced me of the urgent need for my organization’s B4 Babel and Walk On Water projects, and related efforts to advance a sound, historically grounded, individually empowering and social bonds building brand of spirituality.
That’s largely because from my perspective, the religiously conservative, politically misguided Carson’s concession to Trump’s prejudice playing, populist race-baiting propaganda is not just a sign of burp-like defects or ruptures in his own moral make-up but also a deeply disturbing indictment of African American Christianity.
It smacks of the mammon-focused, materialistic rationalizations of atheists like Richard Dawkins, AC Grayling and other secular humanists – including England MP Clive Lewis, who is implicated in a Barbados-sown ideologically motivated criminal conspiracy against me.
And like the former BBC reporter Lewis’ flagrant violation of journalistic principles of impartiality, Carson’s cow-towing to Trump is charged with the principle parroting, values voiding, contradictory “spiritual” energy of the nihilistic “Brahmin” author VS Naipaul and other caste coding commentators on the global community.
The violent, anal ‘vocalizations’ of African supremacists like my compatriot Sir Hilary Beckles and the murderous Norwegian Islamaphobe I call ‘Unders (short-for underachieving) Braveprick’ also come to mind readily.
So too do British trade unionists linked to the Glasgow bin lorry tragedy, and particularly the seemingly conscienceless, luddite lorry driver Harry Clarke, the key catalyst of that tragedy.
The man I dubbed a #BinLorryBinLadin, as I coupled him with British Labour Party leader Jeremy Corbyn (the “unapologetic trade unionist” Lewis’ party colleague), not only killed six people and injured fifteen others when he blacked-out behind the wheel of the bin lorry he was driving on December 22, 2014, but has since demonstrated a scandalously callous instinct for self-preservation, an indifference to norms of decency and gross insensitivity to the feelings and needs of the families and friends of his victims.
Coupled with revelations of previous blackouts he had suffered and his concealment of those mind burps from proper scrutiny, a morally putrid profile of Clarke emerges: an extremely foul, fart-like stench fixes to the unapologetic anus-approximating hole in his face.
And I would argue that the current corporate media-led preoccupation with artificial intelligence, or as I like to say ‘arsificial’ intelligence, in some ways represents a similar kind of fart-like expression.
Indeed, given the media’s history of robotically puffing various ideas and personalities (from Randolph Hearst’s puffing of Billy Graham and being “born again” to the puffing of celebrities like Kim Kardashian, gay marriage and other contemporary orthodox vanities) Rupert Murdoch, David Thomson, Oprah Winfrey, Rev Sally Muggeridge and other media barons and baronesses, editorial influencers and ‘canonists’, might be characterized as portals of flatulent intelligence and burping bias justifiably.
I can certainly see how in my former evangelical fundamentalist fervour, Kardashian’s internet flashing of nude selfies would have seemed flagrantly fart-like to me, even if I acknowledged her compelling, formidable feminine beauty.
And as suggested by the reference to her in the title of this article, I owe a considerable debt to Ms Kardashian whose posting of a nude selfie on International Women’s Day prompted me to reflect on how such showing off on that day in particular may have an inherent validity, as an expression of women’s erotic prowess and the centrality of that power in human procreation and its indispensable place in human ecology.
But my conservative instincts (yes, I’m a small ‘c’ conservative who writes about ‘Clinterests’ and ‘cliterati’) tempt me to recoil from the American reality television star’s immodesty.
On balance, the most judicious thing I can say about Kardashian’s serial exhibitionist behaviour is that in being both fecund-flowery and fart-like obscene, it voices the best and worst of human frailty, the beauty and terror that I cited previously.
And I would add that comparing Kardashian’s behaviour with the Trump-like attention seeking of her husband Kanye West, I find it hard to decide whose exhibitionism is more fart-loud extreme and obscene.
I have some sympathy for the journalist who dismisses Kardashian’s liberality as “just provocation and bluster, repeated images that seem to offer us some sort of truth or insight but are really just self serving.”
But being an “ass man” myself, as I wrote some years ago in an article about my on-going women’s ass sizes study, I disagree fundament-ally with the proposition that “Kim Kardashian’s ass is nothing but an empty promise.”
How could I endorse such a view when I am fully persuaded of the pulling power of Jennifer Lopez’s divine derriere – what I, alluding to Chaos theory, call the heterosexual ‘butt-to-fly’ effect of human ecology?
Perhaps the ancient, comically dismissive attitude to farting attested in the image I have featured above provides some resolution of my quandary.
Perhaps the endearing mind farting of comics like Sandi Toksvig and politicians like London Mayor Boris Johnson might bring us all some relief.
As I indicated in a recent tweet, I actually know of a buttocks named “Boris”, dubbed that name affectionately by myself and the owner of the buttocks in question.
She is a Norfolk, England-based admirer of the prominent, charismatic Tory (see #ButtNamedBoris) and one of my HHCH clients.
We “Christened” her buttocks “Boris” one day while jovially discussing my and her ‘blonde moments’: Joey Essex-like lapses in attention or transitory limits on intelligence that happen to even the most alert and intelligent of us occasionally.
But being mindful of London Mayor Johnson’s bias toward the ancient Greeks and Romans at the expense of more ancient and ongoing Afro-Asiatic contributions to human civilization and civility, I feel obliged to point out the butt-headed, fart-like futility that persistently stalks the most beautiful and best any civilization, colour, caste or class might achieve.
And likewise being mindful of the fart-like excesses and burp-approximating bigoted campaigns and emphases of the feminist and gay movements, to which the seasoned political animal Toksvig is linked, I feel obliged to point out that not all of her advocacy is perfume perfect.
Indeed, from my vantage point, some of her output positively reeks!
I recently tweeted a brief deconstructive analysis of Toksvig’s rather uncharitable criticism of the Duchess of Cambridge’s womanly appeal in 2013.
But it is Toksvig’s shocking readiness to absolve the BBC of responsibility for shielding Jimmy Savile’s pernicious paedophile and other violent and immoral sexual activities that offends my nose for the noble, fairness and accuracy most sharply.
Commenting on the Savile affair shortly after news of it had broken like a stink bomb globally, Toksvig said “I’m really sorry that the BBC got maligned in this way because they simply were not responsible, it was society.”
Well, I don’t know if the widely loved and admired, Oxford-educated comedienne might be able to justify that statement to herself on the basis of some definition of ‘humour’ she has studied.
But from where I stand such a selective failure of memory or mindfulness of the prominent morality-shaping role that the BBC plays, along with other media houses, the UK Parliament, the Church, academia and other ‘civilizing’ or socializing entities simply does not bear scrutiny.
It is as biased as any rationalization that Carson burped in his appearance on The View this week.
It smacks of the sordid side-stepping that some race, gender, religious and other human rights advocates are adept at when confronted by a failure to exercise their rights responsibly.
It reeks of the hypocritical, lopsided leftist reasoning that was apparently behind Toksvig’s denunciation of Kate Middleton’s prominence, saying “She achieved her position through marriage, she didn’t achieve her position through skill, talent.”
If marriage requires neither skill nor talent, what is it about that institution that would have Toksvig and other intelligent, progressive thinking gay rights activists wrench it from the grip and guardianship of the conservative religious traditionalists that have monopolized its definition for centuries?
Moreover, what is it about child-rearing that inclines Toksvig, Sir Elton John and other gay people to argue that the legal, semi-adoption parenting arrangements that they are obliged to employ at base level (where our ideological speculations meet butt-bound, biological reality) are essentially the same as what heterosexual parents achieve through their biological difference and complementarity?
And the more crucial question for me is what we may be losing, overlooking, subsuming, or otherwise forgetting about the biological and related fundamentals of human identity, in Carson-endorsing-Trump, faith-shipwrecking fashion, if we uncritically embrace Toksvig’s and others’ romantic, academically anaemic, armchair linguist understandings of the word “family”.
I think it is clear that despite her best intentions Toksvig, like all of us, is ever in danger of projecting her limitedly lit views beyond the proper domain of fantasy.
What Kardashian offers by flashing her buttocks, it might be said, Toksvig offers by aspirant ‘flashes of brilliance’ that mark her as less a writer and more a figure of divine comedy.
However, unlike author A N Wilson, who castigated Toksvig over her opportunistic criticism of Duchess Kate, I do not think Toksvig a bore or unfunny.
I value both the funny and serious sides of her wit and am sure that I would do so even more if she (and the BBC) could demonstrate more ideological impartiality and less atheistic leftist intransigence and inflexibility.
And some evidence of that in a ruling I am anticipating from a certain media monitoring body imminently would be greatly welcomed, auguring well not just for me but for all who recognize the importance of a free press to UK democracy.
Having been a target of both “antisocial socialist” and caprcious capitalist intransigence myself, I know only too well how any ideological overindulgence can lead to faithless, mechanical, involuntary fart-like expression.
Wilson, mentioned above, has opined that “The fact that logic cannot satisfy us awakens an almost insatiable hunger for the irrational.”
Mind burps and farts, like Hilary Clinton’s extraordinary 2008 presidential campaign claim about coming under fire by snipers while on a diplomatic visit to Bosnia, may be construed as the inevitable consequences of Carson, Kardashian or Toksvig-like excessive, rushed ideological eating.
They may be construed as the brain’s way of minimally offensively eliminating the arrogant, violent and otherwise toxic thoughts that have motivated patently racist individuals like Beckles, Naipaul and Braveprick.
Based on my own experience of such toxic thinking, as an evangelical fundamentalist Pentecostal Christian, I know only one remedy for such ideological indigestion: humility.
I expect that the etiquette sensitive, manners minding Toksvig will agree with me that the words “pardon me” may be the most profound in any language.
As I say in TBBTR, however erudite or enlightened we are, those words, which take on peculiar significance for Christians every Easter season, must never be too far from our lips.
I close shortly with the true story of a Facebook ‘conversation’ I had recently which I believe demonstrates how in the face of extraordinary cruelty and hatred, humility can facilitate empathy, and in so doing prevent us from projecting our views onto others, essentially saving us from ourselves.
But first these insightful words from the character Ian Malcolm (played by Jeff Goldblum) in the movie Jurassic Park, which may be interpreted as a warning of the dangers of eating what the sickly Triceratops featured in that film had dropped.
“The problem with the scientific power you’ve used is that it didn’t require any discipline to attain it. You read what others had done and you took the next step . You didn’t earn the knowledge yourselves, so you don’t take the responsibility for it. You stood on the shoulders of others of geniuses to accomplish something as fast as you could, and before you knew what you had, you patented it, packaged it, slapped it on a plastic lunch box, and now you want to sell it.”
Having suffered a kind of intellectual rape myself, at the hands of both antisocial socialists and capricious capitalists in Barbados and England, these words resonated with me at a profound level when I first heard them.
They delineate the flip-side of Toksvig and others ‘ psychological transferring, which amounts to a kind of cognitive impersonation.
We might speculate that it is impossible for hate-driven people to either see or empathise with their perceived enemy because they in some ways have internalised and become that person, especially if that person’s behaviour is considered successful.
This would explain the behaviour of Barbadian ‘Mother Poet’ Margaret Gill and other Barbadian socialism preaching individuals toward me, on one hand, and the equally hostile feelings I seem to inspire among business people like Surinder Kandola of Domino’s Pizza (UK) on the other.
I am indebted to a stranger named Sarah King who recently got me ‘blue sky’ thinking about a punishment befitting the butcher of Utøya, Braveprick, who murdered 80 of his fellow Norwegian citizens on July 22, 2011.
Commenting on a Channel 4 News clip of that Neanderthal Norwegian’s recent court room Nazi salute and self-contented smile as he claimed the very human rights he denied his victims, King wrote “tether him to the bottom of a f___ing toilet and let people sh_t on him like the dirt he is. scumbag”
Immediately recognizing the fallacy of letting the lunatic murderer think he has infected anyone else with the hatred that is his hollow soul’s solace, I responded to King with my own penal proposal. I wrote:
“Why would you want to subject anyone’s arse to the torture of being in this neanderthal throw-back’s presence for more than a second, Sarah King?
“It’s bad enough having to endure news reports on him and Donald Trump in the same 24 hour period!
“Moreover, I’m sure we can find more productive, creative uses for our faeces.
“Save your sh_t. For him, a sigh is expression enough.