Bags at the Front … ???

You want people in your shop
so that you can take their money,
and make a profit …

but you are not willing to treat them
with the common decency of NOT presuming
that they are thieves.

At the time of this writing,
I have managed to approach 60 years in this world
without stealing a single thing in my life.

which means that it is impossible for me
– as an honest and honourable man –
to even imagine the type of self-centred presumption
and contempt for human beings

as so evidently exists in shop-owners
and store managers who display,
at the entrance to their establishments,
signs demanding that potential customers

“leave all bags at the front”.

I understand that the generality
of the human race has deteriorated
in morals and basic manners to such a degree
over the past thirty years,
that multitudes

cannot communicate without filthy profanity
or to ‘go out of their way’ to exercise
basic, common courtesy –

for pity’s sake, modern men
do not even have the decency
to remove their hats when seated at a table
for a meal.

Human beings may have collectively descended
to below the level of animals, BUT that – ( surely ? )
does not give you license
to abandon discernment
and the application of discretion,

and presume that a particular Customer
who enters your shop
is a thief …

deserving of having their character
degraded by you ?

Of course, you do not remove the (often large)
‘handbags’ of women.

Or bar THEM from entering your premises —

You wouldn’t dare.

A woman carrying a bag … is a Customer.
A man carrying a bag … is a Thief.

In a ‘New World’ of Mindless Compliance,
I realise that multitudes will see nothing wrong at all
in being presumed a thief,

and therefore, are quite happy to leave
their personal possessions
at the front of your shop …

But there are a few of us – “old folks” –
still walking this earth,
who have lived lives of courtesy
and consideration towards other people;

who were raised with moral integrity
and “old fashioned”, (dare-I-say?) ‘biblical’ values
of conduct and self control.

Honourable people have not YET been bred out
of the human race: a few still exist.

They might even walk through the door
of an establishment such as yours.

I have observed – since the mid-1980’s in particular,
the eradication of manners and moral decency;
while selfishness, vanity, crude speech and behaviour
rose to levels that are now nothing less than obscene.

It may well be that I am the only person
walking this earth who will NOT sell his character
for the sake of buying and acquiring some … thing.

There is nothing in your shop
that is important enough
for me to submit to you
degrading my moral character.

I would not give my bag to a thug
with a gun.

Nor am I going to hand it to a thug
with a cash register.

The atrocity, I suppose, is not so much
having the callous contempt of a bully:
but in being so bereft of a conscience
as to feel no shame because of it.

This is an age when corporate supermarkets
hire less staff and demand that customers
scan and pack their own groceries
… in bags that they have to provide themselves.

All to … ‘Save the Earth’ … of course.

But such brazen disregard for customer service
need not be a hallmark of your shop, surely ?

By all means, “reserve the right” to inspect
the bags of someone whom you have
just cause to believe has stolen merchandise,

without a sign declaring the wholesale degradation
of every adult that walks into your shop.

When they still existed, mature adults
would Think … with Discernment
and a Moral Conscience.

How would it be then, shop-keeper,
if you began to display appreciation
for those who seek to spend their money
in your shop …

Rather than arrogantly, arbitrarily presume
that someone who walks through your door

is a thief ?

P Livingstone
philiplivingstone.org

Torture of Dogs in China … Shopping to Pay Sadists

Tormented By an Image:

I had imagined that the video
I had selected to watch would feature
the charitable work of some caring group of people
who were concerned about providing for the needs
of stray dogs in China …

What I saw was a mere 10-seconds
of Unspeakable, Perverted Cruelty

being inflicted upon one of many dogs

in a village in China –

as villagers stood around laughing
at the screams – Screams – of agony
shrieking from the mouth of the writhing puppy
who was being roasted alive.

That obscenity will NEVER leave my mind;
and has, ever since, tormented me
– at some point in the day or night –
every single day of my life since.

Nowhere, arguably, is the sadistic depravity
of human beings more manifest
than in South-east Asia:

as a teen throughout the 1970’s, even my
‘sheltered’ mind knew of the reputation
of Bangkok, and the degraded businessmen
who flocked there to abuse children and animals.

How Anyone could Ever pay to go there for ‘holiday’
– willingly give their tourist dollars to a place
that tolerates such open abuse …
was utterly beyond my capacity to take in.

Believing that I was about to see a video report
of some wonderful rescue operation
in a rural part of China,

I ‘clicked’ on a video concerning a place called “Yulin” –
and the disgusting ‘dog meat festival’
that is an annual event in that country.

As the poor, mobile-phone-quality video began,
it was obvious that the filming was being done
from behind a group of people assembled –
seemingly, in a village.

They were gathered around a large cooking wok
which had been positioned over a fire.

A man held a V-forked stick … at the end of which,
a young dog was being forcibly held in place …

while being roasted alive in the oil-covered pan.

Its shrieking screams — for,
they were nothing that ever came
from any animal naturally ––

were Atrocious.

Upon my own mind realising
just what I was seeing and hearing,

I leapt to my feet sending the computer
tumbling to the floor.

The sound that came from my mouth
could only be described as a roar of panic:

I was hyper-ventilating
in a rush of air from my lungs;

forcing a deep scream that was perhaps,
meant to be the word “No”
yelled over and over.

Mercifully, by the time I looked down
at the fallen computer,
the video had stopped after 10 seconds.

But it was ten seconds
that has burned itself into my brain

… and often wakens me in panic,
in the middle of the night.

It is half-past three in the morning
as I type these words: all I could ‘hear’
in my obvious nightmare,
were the shrieks of pain …

… and the laughter of the Chinese villagers
at the dreadful agony of that little dog.

A selection of pictures that I have unwillingly seen
could readily be placed here
to accompany these words.

But the fact is, I could not endure
to have them on this site.

The memory is enough for my mind,
without seeing the actual images over again.

Do You Have a Conscience ?

Shopping.

I discern the Right or Wrong
of any Thought, Word, or Deed,

by considering the amount of suffering
that will invariably come because of it.

Do I trivialise Evil, cruelty, suffering ?
Do I ignore it ? Or even support it ?

I can ‘save’ two euros, one pound-fifty,
or two dollars by buying ‘battery’ eggs,
rather than free range –

So, why will I never do that?

Because of the disgusting torture and lingering deaths
that are inflicted upon millions of ‘battery’ hens
by conscience-less sadists who make their wealth;
and live in relative luxury,

as a result of the absolutely UNNECESSARY
and on-going cruelty that they inflict
upon chickens, pigs, cows, and other animals.

My money will Never knowingly
go into the bank accounts of evil,
conscienceless creatures such as that.

Do I need to have bacon or sausage for breakfast?

I could – quite easily – ‘post’ photographs right here,
of a pig bruised around the eyes;
terror-stricken in its features;
semi-skewered between two clamps,
waiting to be “freshly” killed.

Or hens cut and bleeding from being scooped up
and dumped by bulldozers;

Or the 10 seconds that I saw of that video
of a dog being held down with a stick,
in a Wok above a fire … while Chinese villagers
looked on and laughed
at its shrieking screams of agony –

that so physically sickened me enough
for the better part of a week,

that I am now resolved to never knowingly
buy anything made in a country
that celebrates a … ‘dog meat festival’.

Buy something made in China …
if there is any alternative ?

Am I going to support the demonic creatures
who roast or boil dogs alive –
in a nation that actually regards torture
as an annual festival ???

Bacon or sausage for breakfast?

Quite apart from the pure fat that such ‘meats’
will add to my body, I will NOT pay the wages
of the loathsome creatures

that herd pigs into cement warehouses,
and then proceed to systematically
bring sledge-hammers down
upon the heads of those terrified animals –

whose frequent last efforts to find mercy,
are to lick the boots of the vicious savages
that are about to bludgeon them to death.

SHOPPING

I will never understand how people can shop
without a conscience –

and give their money to companies
that either exploit people;
or torture animals.

They see it advertised – and they buy it.
Conscience – never enters into it.

The purpose of advertising is to make
anyone seeing it, feel dissatisfied:

dissatisfied with the way they look,
dissatisfied with what they own,
dissatisfied with where they live.

An advertiser has One Purpose: to make you
a Slave to Discontentment and Greed –
always wanting more than what you have.

And the Average Shopper is more than happy
to co-operate with the advertiser.

I will never knowingly purchase anything
that was produced from the suffering of animals.

If cruelty was inflicted upon any animal
in order to ‘test’ a product –

I do not need that product.

Yes … some medical crisis may oblige me
to buy a prescription medicine that has ( no doubt )
been ‘cleared for sale’
because animals have suffered beforehand

– but it is a matter that weighs heavily
upon my conscience.

And does not come without serious thought.

But that does not mean that I, therefore,
lay down a ‘red carpet’ of Compromise
and ignore animal testing for everything else.

I will NEVER willingly, or knowingly,
support any company
that uses – or excuses –
the torment of animals
in order to make a profit.

A life-long desire to own little,
has been the greatest practical blessing
in my life.

The desire to own little, brings
Freedom from Greed:

Which makes it an incredibly easy thing
to never want, and never own, anything
that caused an animal to suffer pain.

Samuel Clemens observed:

“I believe I am not interested to know
whether Vivisection produces results
that are profitable to the human race or doesn’t.

To know that the results are profitable to the race
would not remove my hostility to it.

The pains which it inflicts
upon unconsenting animals
is the basis of my enmity towards it,

and it is to me sufficient justification of the enmity
without looking further.

It is so distinctly a matter of feeling with me,
and is so strong and so deeply-rooted in my make
and constitution, that I am sure
I could not even see a vivisector vivisected
with anything more
than a sort of qualified satisfaction.

I do not say I should not go and look on;
I only mean that I should almost surely fail to get out of it
the degree of contentment which it ought, of course,
to be expected to furnish.”

[ Samuel Clemens / Mark Twain, London, 1899 ]

A disgusting “argument” from the putrid shallows
of minds that are self-obsessed and too apathetic
to be ‘bothered’, presents itself as …

“My refusing to buy something
will not stop sadistic companies
from ‘testing’ their products using the torture,
screams, and writhing of cruelly-restrained animals
suffering in agony

… so why ‘fight it’ ?”

I answer …

IF you are Not a Conscienceless Psychopath,
Do Not support Conscienceless Psychopaths.

The point is NOT whether you can control
the Companies:

The point is to not let the companies
Control You.

At the age of six, our schoolteacher had organised a field trip
to let us see where eggs came from.

While standing in a central room of the hatchery,
a side door opened, and an employee walked out.

What I saw – for that brief few seconds – made me cry,
obliged my teacher to take me back to sit in the school bus,
and has remained with me 50 years later.

Hens stuffed – jammed – into little square cages ;
hydraulic hoses used to force gruel down their throats ;
before ( as I would later learn ) they were packed
even tighter into plastic-grilled boxes;
and thrown on to the back of trailers,
to be driven away to be brutally slaughtered.

I have NEVER – since that day, eaten an egg
that was not from a free-range farm.

And I cannot understand those who do.

Save a pound, a euro, a dollar
in order to support wholesale suffering –
for the sake of conscienceless greed?

I would gladly pay twice the cost
to a free-range farm,
and enjoy a soft-boiled egg
with a clear conscience.

Spend the extra two … £ … € … $ ‘s

and for pity’s sake, Refuse to line the pockets
of conscienceless brutes who get rich
from the misery and suffering of animals.

P Livingstone
philiplivingstone.org

こうかい … The Farce of Animal “RESCUE” … Part 1: Confinement

Part 1: The Mormon Dog

Whilst working for an animal “rescue” organisation,
I responded to a telephone complaint of cruelty
in which (the caller stated) a dog had been injured,
but the owners refused to take it to a veterinarian.

Calling at the luxurious – excessively opulent – house,
an older, overweight dog could be seen limping inside.

The woman told me that her husband …

“would not spend money on an animal”.

And then she told me why.

THE MORMON DOG

Over the course of a few days, the woman
(under threat of charges of cruelty by neglect)
was obliged to surrender the dog to the SPCA.

X-rays revealed that the limp was from a fractured leg
that had never been treated.

With the animal in considerable pain,
it had ‘healed’ over time: and now,
there was nothing more that could be done.

“Well, I will just take the dog back home now” I said
to my boss.

With an indignant tone, she bellowed: “You will not!”
That dog is not going back to those people.”

That statement haunts me to this day.

That “Rescue Society” refused to return the dog
to its plush-carpeted home (albeit with callous people)
and instead,

placed it in a concrete box
without toys or any type of mental stimulation.

The shock, the incredulity, the inability to comprehend –
what must have been going through that poor animal’s mind
torments me to this very day.

I sicken inwardly, to recall the one time when the family
and their lawyer, arrived at the SPCA to argue (fruitlessly)
for their dog to be returned.

The dog was in what passes for a “kennel” – two walls
of cinder block, fronted by a chain-link section
that looked out on the parking lot.

Seeing his the family emerge from their car, the dog
limped quickly to the end of the stark concrete ‘run’ – and,
at the chain-link, gave a little hop with clearly visible glee
at the very sight of them.

I will Never forget its utter dejection as they finally
had to walk away again, and leave him in cold isolation.

The Guilt will live with me for the rest of my life.

Within two weeks, I was no longer
in the employ of the SPCA.

The realisation that … I … had put him there
has haunted me for more than ten years now;
and I wake at times, overcome with despair
that I had been the one to have taken the dog
from that opulent home.

I NEVER would have guessed that – once the injury
was revealed to be years old – that dog would not
be allowed to return to its comfort;
but had to exist indefinitely in the solitary confinement
of that horrible concrete box.

That poor dog (I would later find from their Internet Site)
spent ten months in that disgusting box that the SPCA
dares to call a ‘kennel’, before he was ‘fostered’.

He had been the last travesty
that I could take from the ‘SPCA’ –

Cruelty from owners;
cruelty from “rescuers” …
and the animal left to exist in misery either way.

He had been confined for ten months after I quit.

It would have been far better for both dog and me,
to have left him in the opulence of that luxury house,
rather than have him tormented
by the misery of an SPCA … “kennel”.

I despise myself today, at my own wilful ‘blindness’
in being ‘caught up’ in “the ego” of animal rescue.

I could never have imagined
that they would refuse to return the dog,
once it was revealed that the injury was so old.

The inevitable confusion of that affectionate dog
– to wonder what it had done wrong
to deserve to be put in concrete isolation –
never stops preying upon my conscience.

That had been the first and only time
that I have encountered cruelty from neglect,
amongst people who lived in wealth and luxury.

As to the “Reason” that the woman had given me
for her husband refusing to spend money
to have the dog’s injury treated … ?

Well, that was the first time
I had encountered … the Mormons.

Mormons ( it seems ) maintain that an animal
is to serve man; which means – to minds that are
brutal and callous enough – that, Mormons …

… have no moral responsibility to provide
medical treatment to any poor animal that is cursed
enough to find itself in their … “care”.

As the old biblical proverb states:

“A righteous man regardeth the life of his beast;
but the tender mercies of the wicked, are cruel.”

But such are the perversions of religious cults
in which the dictates of a “prophet” take precedence
over anything declared by the God
whom they claim to acknowledge.

TYRANNY

Arriving on this side of the Atlantic a few years ago,
I took work with the SPCA, driving and investigating
various complaints made by the public.

But it was when in the office, that I became
filled with trepidation that all was not “as it seemed”
at this SPCA.

I frequently overheard conversations
between staff and people who came in to adopt animals
– only to be told that there were none
matching the description that they were seeking.

This – I knew – was a lie.

The staff – two women (my own age) were
(it seemed evident), far too filled with a sense
of their own self-importance
and decision-making ‘power’ over others;

and so, quite enjoyed making instant judgments
about whomever entered their fiefdom.

The most mind-wracking, instance of prolonged Abuse
that I have ever seen with my eyes,
was to witness the reality of dogs who had been
“rescued” from abusive homes …

… to be then put into confinement without bed or toys,
in those concrete boxes
that were outrageously termed “kennels”.

Here, the animal existed with absolutely
NO mental stimulation, for 23 hours a day
– their only relief being IF a dog-walker
happened to choose them for a walk that day.

Concrete walls, concrete floor, and (if the sliding
door had not been raised) no view

save that of the mentally-tortured animal
in the “kennel” opposite.

It drove me to despair: seeing the lacklustre eyes,
the constant look of defeat:
the sense of being past all hope.

And HERE were the two ‘mature’ women on staff
telling people that there were no animals for adoption.

THE ELDERLY COUPLE

The contempt held by those ‘in office’ was unbelievable:

One Friday afternoon, an older couple
had managed to adopt a dog … only to return
on Monday morning – their faces stained with tears,
and red from crying:

they were here to bring the dog back.

For two days, the dog – now freed from its
mind-altering confinement, and overwhelmed with sights
and sounds – had run rampant in their house,
finally jumping through the glass window
of their living room.

Heartbroken, they had to admit
that they could not keep the dog.

With barely concealed derision,
the woman behind the counter – my … “colleague”
… officiously got the adoption papers
and impatiently scribbled on them.

As the distraught couple tearfully left the office,
the woman huffed loudly, turned to her co-worker and said:
“WHAT were we thinking, ever imaging that people like THAT
could handle a dog?!!”

I was disgusted: fuming – and let them know it.
“At least, they TRIED to do something kind”, I said.

The pair of them looked at me and sighed audibly
with evident disgust.

Running down to the parking lot,
I thanked the couple for doing their very best;
hugged them both; and wished them well.

Bringing the matter up to the manager
only made it plain that nothing would be done:

It was me – and not the staff – who was seen as
the one “with a problem”.

My letter, sent to Head Office, resulted in a reply
being sent to my boss, directing her to inform me that
… ‘his last day will be May 4th.’

When it is a crime to speak the truth;
when any

business,
organisation, or
nation

regards moral decency … as treason;

then it is – (whatever else it may pretend)
a totalitarian regime where folk such as me,
will never find a home.

[ Continued in Part 2: Margaret and “Ginger” ]

P Livingstone

こうかい … The Farce of Animal “RESCUE” … Part 2: Margaret and Ginger

Part 2: Margaret and “Ginger”

The only good thing that came out of my three months
as an employee of that animal “protection” organisation,
was when a retired teacher – a woman named Margaret –
came in to adopt a dog.

She had arrived at that SPCA office
only to be told that there were no dogs
matching the description of what she was ‘looking for’.

I had heard it before.

Literally.
Like a script.

And I could take no more.

I ran after the lady in the parking lot;
told her that I was ‘through’, and told her about “Ginger”
– a Golden Retriever who had her single barred door
covered with a piece of plywood because she barked
and lunged at dogs being led in and out
when their kennels were being hosed out.

“She’s crazy” said the man in charge of the kennels.

A dog confined in a concrete box
for 23 hours every day –

no bed, no toys, no company,
no window to the outside world;
no mental stimulation at all –

Yes ! – I am certain that she WAS indeed crazy.

I am certain most of the other 20 or so dogs were as well.

I went in to the kennel, pulled on the rope that lifted
the wooden hatch-cover, and let Ginger out to the ‘viewing’ run
where visitors were able to see the animal.

I told Margaret about Ginger’s … “life”.

And if ever I wanted to take a woman in my arms
and embrace her, it was then.

The lady’s face set in a mask of resolution: she turned,
marched back up the stairs and (must have!) demanded
to be allowed to adopt Ginger.

A half hour later, Ginger was in the back of Margaret’s car.

And my days were numbered.

I was despised by staff, volunteer dog-walkers,
and agency ‘hangers-on’. Sarcastic quips and ‘cold shoulder’
animosity was absolutely dripping off me.

Not a second of thought that there just … Might
have been something in what I was saying;
Only that I had ‘stepped on’ monstrous staff conceit.

Which was precisely what I had been specifically
warned about by the manager during my job interview,
twelve weeks earlier.

That same manager that hired me, had just accepted
a new position elsewhere in the organisation.
‘Wash your hands of the whole thing’, I suppose.

I left that animal “welfare” agency knowing that I helped one,
but left 20 others to continue their existence
of solitary confinement in concrete isolation.

I cannot adequately express
how much it torments me to this day.

I went to visit Ginger and Margaret at her beautiful country home
– five acres of shrubs, plants, and an enormous ‘pond’
that was nothing less than a small lake.

Margaret ran it as a Japanese-themed,
Bed and Breakfast enterprise.

THIS was Ginger’s new home.

But, you see, this one bit of happiness does not end there.

One day, a ‘jogger’ passing by Margaret’s acreage,
made a call to the police … A dog had “attacked” her.
A Golden Retriever had jumped up on her
as she was running past its house.

Yes … Ginger had “attacked” me, too – just the same way
when I was still at the SPCA; every morning with joy
and excitement at having contact with a human being
who hugged her, caressed her; and just showed her some attention.

What Ginger could not know, was that not everyone
was like that Irishman.

Margaret was given a legal Order … and Ginger
– a rescue dog on a ‘second chance’ – was ‘put down’.

She had known kindness and comfort for two years –

before some self-venerating yuppie decided that her ‘personal space’
being invaded by an exuberant dog – was an intrusion upon her ‘rights’
… and constituted an “attack”.

The 21st century mentality:
the whole world revolves around Me.

Self. Vanity. Ego.

The religion of the Modern Age.

Animals suffer.
People suffer.

And, in this case, a dog was killed.

For

Being

Happy.

I went to visit Margaret one January afternoon:
highly embarrassed at not having telephoned first,
but confident that she and I had been
‘made from the same mould’ –
and she would not mind my unannounced visit.

Ringing the front bell, I was surprised when the door
was opened … by a young, 30-something woman.
I babbled some explanation of who I was,
and asked if Margaret was home.

The woman invited me to come in.
And told me that she would be right back.

I could hear voices.

A lot of voices.

The house was full of people.

After a few moments, the young woman came back
… with another lady.

I introduced myself once again,
and explained that I was here to see …

And then the lady spoke.

“I have been sick” she said,
“And my family are all here to … discuss … things.”

It was Margaret.

I would not have recognised her.

Tears formed in my eyes – I could not speak.
Words – would not come out.

She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.
I slowly turned – stupid, dazed – and then, looked back
as Margaret shuffled back to the sitting room.

The young woman had opened the front door,
and thanked me for coming to see her mother.

The door closed.
And I was alone.

I thought of Ginger.

I thought of those arrogant women
who refused to allow that lady to adopt a dog.

And of how she refused to be bullied
by domineering tyrants.

As I walked up the little dirt trail from her front door,
to the wooded area where the car was parked,

I looked at the grounds … the trees …
the forest of rhododendrons … and the path that I last saw
when Ginger was bounding to meet me.

A tear fell from my eye.

Margaret DeWitt died on the 13th of April 2012.

She was my hero – a woman filled with compassion,
common sense; conscience, and courtesy.

Qualities that now barely exist in the world.

A caring, compassionate, no-nonsense lady
… was dead.

While mindless bureaucratic minions
are still wallowing in their authority
– domineering people and dictating bureaucracy,
rather than exercising moral decency.

And throughout all this human selfishness,
dogs who have been “rescued”
suffer the hourly torment of isolation
in concrete boxes,

as smug, apathetic humanity
congratulates itself for its imagined ‘kindness’.

“The wicked walk on every side
when the vilest men are exalted”

in a world where

“… the tender mercies of the wicked,
are cruel.”

P Livingstone

Thoughts to a Young Woman

In this age where truth is despised
and advocating moderation and common decency
is regarded as ‘hate speech’,
my heart breaks for little children today.

Most especially, I suppose, for girls who are
– very evidently – being taught
that it is somehow a shame, or weakness,
to want to behave or dress … like a Lady.

I remember when women
found it no humiliation to be feminine;
nor felt the need to impersonate
crude, obnoxious, and vulgar men.

PROFANITY: Revealing Personal Depravity to the World

There are Multitudes using the “power”
of the Internet, who have no business being … On …
the Internet.

Many – had they the ‘mirror’ of a moral Conscience,
would writhe in shame at the open example
they present of themselves and their crude character.

Had they but the wit or conscience, most
would remove every trace of themselves
from public display.

Along with Humility and Modesty,
the conscience to feel ashamed,
is a characteristic that is now all but extinct.

“Self Esteem” – the eradication of discernment,
discretion, and self control has replaced principled humanity
with vulgar savages.

Modern society does not find it shocking
for a 15-year old to copulate like a rodent;
But the 19 year old
who remains a virgin is … “weird”.

For a teenage girl to expose breasts, thigh,
and midriff, is “fashionable” …
But the girl who dresses modestly
is a … “prude”.

And certainly, the whole modern world … KNOWS
( don’t they ?) … that, If a girl or woman is quiet,
lady-like; and consistently seen to be
wearing a dress … she is … “in a religious cult”.

So perverse has the modern mind-set become that,
if a teenager can be found who can NOT recite
the sexually obscene lyrics of the latest “pop” song;

if a boy reads a book rather than
putrefies his brains on computer games;
or a girl cherishes family values
and standards of moral restraint,

they are deemed to be “brainwashed”,
“victims” of ‘child abuse’, having been denied
the “freedom” to experience modern culture.

“Modern Culture?”

CULTURE ?

A society that is characterised by Self Esteem –

vanity, greed, hedonism,
ambition, commercialism,
the absence of self discipline,
filthy language as ‘conversation’,
cinematic violence, vengeance, torture
and sexual promiscuity … as ‘entertainment’

THIS … is … “Culture” ?

Parents allow their teens to attend ‘house parties;,
roam the streets at all hours; or go “clubbing”
amidst the deafening noise, promiscuous immorality;
of an inherent liquor-and-drug culture …

… but think it AB-normal for a teen to attend
a church youth group and be home by ten
– out of respect for their parents’ home.

As a teenager in the 1970’s,
I was never out past ten o’clock.
Never needed to be. Never wanted to be.

In excusing the depravity of the 21st century,
people exclaim: “Oh, but, remember
when YOU were a teen!”

I do.

THOUGHTS to A Young Woman

“A righteous man regardeth the life of his beast”

More than a few young women would save themselves
a lifetime of misery and grievous disappointment
if they would but take the time to look
at the way a ‘boyfriend’ treats the animals
that are dependent upon his care.

Before you commit yourself to any man, woman,
“friend”, or potential business partner,
give them plenty of opportunity … to talk.

And LISTEN to them.

Listen to how they talk about people
who are moral, quiet, and benevolent;
about their own parents;
about their pets, or the livestock on their family farm.

Listen.

And discern the nature of the “tree”
by the “fruit” that it bears.

Where an animal is involved … Look.
Open your eyes. Observe.
THINK about what you see.

Look at the family dog – is it kept on a chain,
a rope, confined to a doghouse that is damp,
without clean bedding, or just plain filthy?

Is it thrown into the back of a pickup truck
to brace itself to minimize being thrown about,
or even thrown over the side?

Does the dog noticeably cringe, quiver,
or startle? Does he ‘snap to attention’ – instantly,
whenever his owner comes near?

One is resigned to a potential beating.
The other agitates to avoid one.

One is timid, defeated.
The other is terrified.

People lie.
A dog will not.

To any thoughtful teenage girl, I would say simply that:

any ‘man’ who does not show compassion
for an animal in their care … will NEVER
show genuine compassion FOR YOU –
no matter how self-deluded you may wish to be.

Many a young woman has said of a savage brute:
“I will change him”. Will you?

An illustration:

I will stand on the floor beside a table.
You climb up, and stand upon the table.

Now … Lift me up to where you are.

Will you succeed?

Perhaps.

But it is most unlikely.

DISCERNING Character

Even without owning one, I recognise that,
since the 1980’s, Television has portrayed
the self-centred laziness and arrogance as being
commonplace in ‘everyday’ American people.

from Archie Bunker in 1970,
or the crass vulgarity of the Simpsons in the 1990’s,
the example is the same:

lazy, apathetic, stupid, slovenly adults
being corrected by belligerent, back-talking brats
have typified the “average” American family
for well over 30 years.

And this infection has spread to the world.

In the mid-1990’s, the depravity of television
was superseded by the Internet – a platform
to saturate users with the ‘whatever I think is truth’ displays
of the alliterate, the ignorant, and the apathetic
– all vying for ‘likes’, ‘subscribers’, and ‘followers.

Multitudes could now exalt themselves as an ‘expert’
on the basis of having read a book;
gleaned some minimal experience;
or (heaven help us) watched a video.

And always, there is the scathing contempt
and obscene displays of hatred towards anyone
who is quiet, timid, or seeks to live a Moral life.

And ready excuse for every form of outright Evil:
from ‘I’m on medication’, to ‘Mummy didn’t hug me’,
to being ‘raised in a poor neighbourhood’.

Wise Elders, Mature Adults, and Professional Teachers
were replaced by any profanity-spewing
Tom, Dick, or Harriet
who had a computer and a camera.

Self-centred men, women, boys and girls
gratify greed, lust, or ambition
above any other consideration
And that, Young Woman, includes You.

You will not make them see … ‘reason’.
They have none.

Evil men delight to degrade and pervert
anything that is Moral –
and that includes you … if you are.

They have no conscience whatsoever
about defaming or destroying anyone
who excels themselves in character or morals.

As five minutes’ on the Internet
will clearly reveal.

They are Brutal, Vicious; Loud, and Aggressive
… and call it “strength”.

Beware of anyone who is constantly
prating on about themselves or their endeavours.

I would not like to be a moral, conscientious,
young man or woman starting out in life today;
because there IS No moral centre
in the world today.

Young woman,

Be a Lady, rather than an Object;

Be a Lady, rather than a pathetic imitation
of an aggressive, ‘macho’ savage.

IF – If – you have a tender heart
and a discerning mind,
they will be the greatest possessions
that you will Ever own.

Never allow them to be taken away from you.

P Livingstone

おしえ … The Age of the Emotional Infant

Thinking Men and Thinking Women
Ask Questions – Specifically
so that they can … Think.

An adult has the maturity to listen,
weigh evidence, agree, or disagree.

A Mature Adult … can do these things.

A Child … will erupt in a temper tantrum.

The 21st century is a place in which the ability
to Think independently, and with maturity,
has been wilfully given up in a world where ANY
Mental or Moral challenge is deemed … “offensive”

Mature adults recognise that in ANY society
of people, there ARE going to be Differences
of Moral Conscience, thought, and opinion.

Impudent Children demand that everything
be done … their way.

And – as with Any bad-tempered child,
those who refuse to investigate the possibility
that THEY could conceivably be wrong,
resort to the cruel child’s practice

… of calling people names.

Free Speech is no longer tolerated
by those whose ‘lives’ consist of little more
than

self deification,
personal pleasure,
self-centred apathy,

and the hedonistic standard of minds
that are NEVER Morally challenged.

An Adult has the maturity to weigh evidence,
consider, and reject or accept the thoughts
and observations of another person;

but a Child, and a Bully, MUST
have everything their own way.

It is impossible to reason with those
whose entire thought processes
are founded upon entertainment.

Anyone who makes an attempt to question
the world around them
is mocked, degraded, and vilified
by multitudes
who arrogantly regard themselves
as “defenders of equality”

And How do Emotional Children “defend”
their notion of ‘equality’ … ?

By Censoring anyone
who has the maturity to Ask Questions.

Throughout the 1980’s, 90’s, and 00’s,
it was simply a matter that
those who demanded “equal rights”
– once they got what they wanted –

were the very LAST to grant equal rights
to those whose philosophy differed from theirs.

By August, 2018, those who claim to need
“protection” from “Hate Speech”

not only level brutal Hate Speech
at anyone who is different from them,

but demand that government subsidised
Internet Companies … Ban …
those whose considered, philosophical beliefs
differ from theirs.

Humanist multitudes look to “Science”
to assure them that there is no God.

But when Science has spent more than a century
declaring that anyone
who has a Y Chromosome, is a man;
while two X Chromosomes denote a woman,

suddenly, the modern “mind”
makes Science redundant.

I may feel like a duck,
wear feathers in my hair,
and quack whenever I meet people –

but I am still a deluded man
acting like a duck.

And he is the greater Fool than me,
who would look at me, and agree
that I actually am … a duck.

This is the 21st century.

Where along with discernment
and mature thinking –
Objective Truth … No Longer Exists.

I remember a time when an Adult
could actually be distinguished
from a Child.

Now … “adults”
are now so Emotionally Unstable

that they demand the Censoring
of anyone whose thoughts and observations
conflict with the ‘feel-good’ mentality
of their infantile utopia.

Free Speech is a terror to the Domineering,
the Despotic, and the Wilfully Ignorant:

because it allows their integrity to be tested.

Perpetual Children
demand to have things their own way –
either by bullying … or “Telling the Teacher”.

To Self Esteem demi-gods, Anyone
who speaks with moral objectivity,
and possesses the ability to spell basic words
correctly,

is a “bigoted”, “sexist”, “–ophobic” “racist”
“Narrow-minded” “Grammar Nazi” spewing
“hate speech”.

Emotional Infants can censor Thinking Adults.
But Thinking Adults must never challenge
Emotional Infants.

When I was a little boy, it was illegal
for a woman to murder her unborn baby
because a child would get in the way
of her social life.

Now, Human Beings not only march in Parades
Celebrating – rejoicing in !!! – the fact
that they can have a baby in their own womb
sliced, vacuumed out, and dumped in a bucket –

but spew obscenities and vicious hatred at anyone
who thinks that the life of a tiny baby
is important.

The “morality” of modern minds
rests upon No higher standard than
what they “are allowed to get away with”.

For perpetual adolescents whose purpose in life
is to gratify every stirring of Lust, Conceit,
or Greed:

“Do What Thou Wilt”
Has Become
the Whole of the Law.

P Livingstone

おしえ … TEACHING: What is the Use ? … Part 1: Unprincipled Adults

I had been walking along the concrete path
that ran next to the wall of the supermarket,
when I could not help but notice
the approach of a little girl
being dragged along at a brisk pace
by (what presumably was) her mother.

As she was hauled nearer, the little girl
looked me full in the eyes, smiled and said,
“Hi!” – her little hand waving up at me.

I did not even have time to smile down at her,
let alone respond similarly and, looking over
my shoulder, felt deeply despondent to see her
craning her head to look back towards me.

I managed a wave before the little tyke
was hauled behind a motor car,
which then obscured her from my sight.

Tears came to my eyes and I found that
I had to stop walking as the experience
had filled me with a tremendous amount
of sadness.

A little child with an evidently affectionate nature,
being dragged along by ‘mummy’
who was ‘far too busy’ prattling into a mobile telephone,
to let her child walk at a child’s speed and ability –

much less pause and let the little girl say hello
to a grey-haired man who was walking past.

I have often thought – with deep sorrow,
of the various sights that have crossed my eyes,
of what now passes for modern ‘parenting’ –
of the children I have seen

who appear to take ‘second place’ to gadgets
owned by parents who are more interested in
playing with toys and being self-absorbed
with their own entertainment;

or who are strapped into automobile child seats
to, subsequently, have an (apparently)
built-in video screen switched on

… as though the brains of the average child
are not liquidised enough between TV screens
and computer screens –
adults now stuff them in front of another screen
when out for a drive.

If a conscientious child can read, write,
and calculate mathematics,
he or she will be able to … think –
and discern objectively.

Unless of course, the exact opposite is desired:
in which case, an entire race of ‘humanity’
can be manufactured that will be incapable
of moral objectivity or original thought.

It was Wells, I believe, who wrote something
along the lines of a future world inhabited by
two species of human life:

1. Fragile Hedonists and,
2. Slavering, disposable Savages who labour.

Exercise the mind when young, and it WILL function
whenever the child – once an adult,
needs to make life-changing decisions.

But children have not had their minds exercised now,
for the better part of – ( what ? ) – thirty years ?

Machines now tell children what to think, what to believe,
and how they should respond to any given situation.

Reading … ? Not in the age of video and comic books,
when popular text centres upon witches, werewolves, and vampires.

Mathematics … ? I have long ceased to even attempt
to hand a cashier coins at the supermarket:
they are ( it seems ) utterly incapable of ‘making change’.

Writing … ?

Writing.

Ahhh yes, Writing.

Cursive writing – the one distinguishing characteristic
that remained to separate human beings from machines …

… is now being eliminated from public schools.

Along with that last vestige of human, creative touch,
goes the exercise and development of fine motor skills,
creative development,
and distinguishing personal uniqueness.

In short, the brain will no longer be exercised:

will no longer slow down long enough
to create a sentence;
disgorging instead, a sort of type-set grunting,
punctuated by filthy expletives.

With its last remaining opportunity for mental exercise
and development now eradicated, the human mind
now becomes a mere intermediary – an input device –
for communication into a machine.

People are being turned into organic machines
– and they welcome every aspect of the process.

I will never forget Mr Chiswell telling us boys in 1974:

“If you ever want to be a ‘real man’ … don’t you EVER
leave a woman waiting for your telephone call.
Make sure that you honour your commitments;
and keep your promises.”

Mr Chiswell set aside an hour
on Wednesday afternoons to teach us morality:

Let a teacher attempt that today
and he or she will be out of a job.

I know.
I have met them.
I am one of them.

Woe betide any adult in the 21st century
who acts like, or reveals themselves to be,
a compassionate, conscientious, moral adult.

I recall, in 2001, working for three hours in the afternoon,
at an ‘after school club’ in Midlothian.
We had taken the children, aged 4 to 10, for a trip to
‘The Bouncy Castle’ in Edinburgh.

On leaving, in a large, open area consisting of benches
where all shoes were to be left, one little girl
had overbalanced whilst putting on her shoe –

she fell backwards, and her head hit the cement floor
with a truly sickening thump.

She was trying to scream and cry:
but was doing so with such force,
that no sound came out.

I scooped the little girl up in my arms,
held her to my chest
and cradled the back of her head
– feeling with apprehension
for any sticky wetness of blood.

I quick-marched the distance of the
big warehouse complex, through the
hordes of mothers and children,
towards the doors where Eleanor
– the woman in charge,
was waving for the school bus.

On turning, to look, she noticed me …

And began screaming hysterically.

NOT for the obviously injured little girl –
but screaming, over and over again:

“Put her Down ! Put her Down !!!”

Running over, she grabbed the little girl
from my arms,
and plunked her down on the floor,
where she told the crying child
to wait in the queue to board the bus.

Even my angry description of the force
and sound of that little girl’s head hitting the cement floor
was not enough to stir even a pretence of compassion
from the woman.

You see, I learned – for the first time – that,
in the 21st century, to pick up and comfort
an injured child is now termed …

“Sexual Molestation”.

Which must make me – it follows,

a sexual predator.

It was with great difficulty that I did not
– upon our return to the after-school building –
tell Eleanor what she could do with her job.

A few weeks later, I was supervising a group of children
in the gymnasium – standing as their ‘safety’
while they bounced on the springboard,
and into a pile of foam mats.

When three boys came in with a football
and began kicking it around the gym,
I yelled at them to take it outside.

One of them drew back and gave the ball a wallop …

… sending it straight into the face
of the little girl who was waiting to use the springboard.

The impact actually threw her back with such force
that her feet whipped up before she hit the ground.

I grabbed the offending creature under his armpit
and marched him out the fire door
before staunching the blood from the little girl’s nose
and carrying –

( yes, that’s right, I picked her up as well )

– her to the sink in the first aid room.

Again, I was taken to task for this Crime Against Society.

No – not the ‘tenderness-and-consoling-
-embrace-equals-paedophilia’ crime …

… but for my lack of tenderness
towards the arrogant upstart who refused
to do as he was told, and injured a little girl
who was standing quietly nearby.

All was quickly made clear as Eleanor hissed
in barely-controlled Terror:

“His father is a major contributor to this school.”

I was ordered to apologise to the vicious miscreant.

Needless to say, under No threat of Any description,
was I going to apologise to a disobedient, unrepentant,
11-year old brat …

Which, of course, made that

my last day of work.

Never mind rebellion, wilful violence, arrogance,
disobedience, bullying, foul language, disruption to class …

… or Reading, Writing, or Arithmetic –

A teacher’s ULTIMATE concern now,
is to ensure that he does not damage
little Johnny’s Self Esteem.

You See … in the 21st century,

Dick and Jane MUST
be filled with self confidence so that,
unable to spell, write, or read with an attention span,
they can go out into the real world,

and tell their elders to “F**k Off”.

[ End of Part 1 ]

P Livingstone
philiplivingstone.org