When Truth and Fiction Collide

I found myself recently asking this very question and I was actually a shade concerned when I did. Now, I had known I was on a time-limit to get the PRELUDES of Enoch out and ‘live’ as it were. I’d known I had to get them uploaded before the events I predicted (not by magical powers, incidentally, by observation, deduction and experience) came to pass, before I could be accused of simply plagarising reality rather than creating it as I’m supposed to.

UPDATE; I was going to write a scene where Lucifer, working with Penumael, formulates a plan to discredit his puppet, Krampus (mimicking the President), using the outbreak of a disease. He was going to step in as the hero, exposing the intentional mismanagement and inadequacies of the former and take over in a suitably muscular and efficient fashion. Then I decided that this is probably what is going to actually going to happen before I reach that part of the book…also, considering recent events, it would be in rather bad taste…

But a writer cannot copy stuff that’s already happened, right?

I’d like you to stop for a moment and roll that question around in your head a few times; savour it, consider it and taste it well. It’s a stupid question isn’t it? Not a completely, throw someone out of the window stupid but, perhaps, more of a badly worded one. Plagarism. It is a word we have all dreaded since we started writing, back at school. It means we didn’t do the work or, at least, people think that. It means we stole what someone else created and took a shortcut. It means not only did we do that but we got caught and, as anyone who watches the news these days knows, getting caught is the really important part. If they don’t catch you, then it never happened!

Well, perhaps that is true….

A small nugget of interesting here. The Preludes of Enoch have been called, by some, a little prophetic.

Well fill me with radon, connect me to a battery and call me a lightbulb!

Can it be true? Well it certainly wasn’t intentional as such. I may have chosen to satirise, lambast and make light of a certain man who lives, shall we say, in a house of a shade produced by the reflection of almost all colors. That big one in America they make such a big deal about living in for 4-8 year periods! I may have objected to several aspects of him and thought to humourously present them in the PRELUDES. I may also have used certain events related to said fine gentlemen and statesman to illustrate key points Asmodeus was making and provided both examples and contrasts for he and Julian to talk about.

Shock. Horror. Fire. Fear. Foes. Awake. I just ‘borrowed’ from somewhere else right there. Anyone have an idea where?

Ten bonus points to the first correct guess. No I am NOT a prophet of any kind who sees the future. I may look toward the future an awful lot but I tend to not go further than either the coming Friday or my next payday (the one where I get money, not that lovely peanut thing I praise America for inventing). I have written some speculative fiction and wanted to make sure He-Who-Is-Named-After-British-Slang-for-a-fart didn’t self-destruct before I got the stories on the internet! Now of course I may gain some enemies from this course of action but who ever said it was a writer’s job to be popular with the establishment? I may even gain some nice letters on White House stationary. I may well do.

If you ask me, I might even admit to loving the idea of that prospect… How can I write a series of books which have, as one of their background themes, the actual end of everything without at least referencing the real world events which might well bring about such an apocalypse about before I am actually able to get the darn series finished?

The truth is stranger than fiction, they say and I often feel like I’m playing catch up with the real world! I’m not actually sure what I’d do in those circumstances. Probably look for a chisel and nice quiet cave to carve in…isn’t that something a prophet or at least a hermit would do? They ask.

Now, wouldn’t a prophet actually deny being a prophet just in case his prophecies go wonky and people blame him for that? Look at that dead French bloke! Someone claiming to be a prophet these days would be considered nuttier than a squirrel banquet.

Soooo, a real prophet would pretend not to be one in order to throw people off and have them not call him or her a nutter, right? So he said….ohhhh! Winky, winky, eh? EH?

Now, let’s move towards shall we say, the meat (sorry non-carnivores) of the proposal. This is one I see a lot of questions about and also insecurities from many in reference to. People ask me what they should write about for one. They ask me ‘I saw a story which was very similar to mine but I didn’t copy them’, they ask about fan-fic, about conforming to popular genres and tropes. “How to be original, how to be original, how to be original!” Goes the cry. “When it appears to have been done before?”. Easy answer to that one. Do it anyway.

There are truly no original ideas left, none. There may well be several unique interpretations, combinations and representations though. Every storyline is recycled. Every event, trope or situation already used. Some genres thrive on such predictable repetition, others really don’t. If you put your heart, your soul and, more importantly, your honest commitment into it, you’ll create something unique.

How many times has the mousy, overlooked and badly-treated young person shockingly turned out to be the only being capable of supposedly changing the world for the better and saving whatever species that individual belongs to from a variety of terrible things. Four or five allies will dramatically die along the way and many moments of self-discovery will take place but the Evil One will be destroyed and peace/prosperity/a New Order will result. The Chosen One will either fade into the shadows modestly or have an important role in the new government.

Sometimes there is even a twist when said Chosen One realises that the Just Change they fought for isn’t and the New Boss they trusted is just like the Old Boss; so they unexpectedly rebel against the New Boss in a dramatic finale never meant to be resolved.

Don’t write the sequel, please, let it hang!

Take a moment to make a list of just how many books, book series and movies I have just described the basic storylines of. Take ten, go for a snack, smoke, whatever you fancy but make sure you can write while you’re doing it ok? Now go over your list and count the entries. Multiply it by your birth year, add the number of times you were scared by the neighbour’s dog as a child (be honest) and divide the result by the sum of your list minus your birthday. I know what your answer is going to be, I know it exactly.

More of my secret hidden prophet abilities coming into play… Your answer was an awful lot, quite a few or lots. Maybe even loads and loads if you’re ambitious or old. I am truly amazing, right? Thank you, thank you, I know! Thank you.

Joking aside, almost every popular fantasy, YA, Sci-Fi and possibly romance book ever written, right? All those popular movies that start with a weak, ugly, overlooked or maltreated fellow/fellowess who develops godlike powers and…all that other stuff happens.

Most food is made of the same basic ingredients but the number of dishes which can be made from it are truly many! Same with writing. Look at the one with that young bespecktacled fellow who finds out he can do magic and even go to school for it and compare it to the young blonde fellow who harvested dew on a desert planet with two suns. One fights a snake faced fellow with an insecurity complex and the other an asthmatic bloke in a robot suit. Both win (oh crap! Spoiler alert, sorry!) and make their respective lands better places for almost everyone who lives there.

Except most of the ones who fought with or agreed with the bad guy…but we don’t talk about them really, do we? The point is this; people watched the movies, bought the books, became nerds for the story and mythology and so on. Nobody crossed their arms and harumphed about how like that other movie they’d seen the other occasion it was. Well, maybe there was one. There’s always one isn’t there? Are you ready? Here he is;

You can just feel that aura of the easily impressed one, can’t you? That is, indeed, the face of a man well-pleased with his entertainment choices! Or maybe not.

How would you guys describe his expression? He’s probably upset because that thing he automatically hates because young people like it made more money than he can even imagine how to fantasise about while being sure to be accurately representing it in the correct denominations and the right amounts thereof.

We just broke the poor fellow’s brain! He’ll be alright, he’s just gone for a quick lie down, after which he’ll find his box of blue biros, yellow legal pad and the contents of his wallet; currently some old receipts, an expired voucher or two and exactly $17 and 45 cents in mixed currency. Fifty bonus points for telling me what this fellow, let’s call him Earl, has in his wallet. What is the most likely or best combination of bills and coins for a man of Earl’s age and demeanour? What else is hiding in there that he forgot about? See what we’ve just done? We made Earl a person. We invented a character!

He is a stereotype but people like those, especially if you make them funny enough. Think about all the angry old man characters you have read about and seen in movies for a few minutes…they all turned out to be big softies in the end don’t they? Not Earl; Earl is an asshole and will never change.

Only kidding, Earl is decent enough really. Your story might have been done before, in it’s essence. It may have been done more times that Earl has itemised the contents of his wallet since he retired, twelve years ago.

More times than he has saluted the flag in his eighty-five years of life. More times even than he has complained about his left leg in winter. He nearly lost it to shrapnel and actually counts his blessings often. Same as he counts his shoes when he puts them on as well as the fact that he still possesses a foot to place inside each.

Motivations and backstory right there, see? If you wish to develop this budding Earl, I gift him to you. Treat him nicely and please don’t kill him off thoughtlessly, he served and was wounded for his country with honour.

He’s actually not a bad old sort when you get to know him. He loves pistachio nuts and if you bring him some of those or, better yet ice-cream in that flavour, he will regail you with many a stirring tale of his own! Brew him coffee with a pinch of salt in it and he will bless you as a brother. OK, let’s allow Earl his rest for now, we could pass all day learning about him.

Best to leave him with his calculations and his list. He’s going to spend a good few hours on this one! Quite the perfectionist, this fellow. Funny how that happens, right? We don’t so much invent as discover some characters. I have been surprised at least once by how some of them turned out!

Someone wrote a story very like yours before. A lot of someones in fact. Did they have your characters, your setting, your skills and your humour though? Take Earl, I described him one way, you might detail other traits he has that I missed. He’ll still be the same man, only described from different points of view. Just like that man whose skin-tone is often compared to both a fruit and a colour at the same time. Some see him as a hero and great man, the unifier of their land and saviour of their way of life. To sensible and intelligent people, though, he is an idiot.

Ok, joking again, I can’t help it! Every writer tells their own story, I can’t get upset because it’s not the same as mine. In fact, in retrospect, I should be grateful that it is not, right? See how it works now? That’s right, you already knew, you just hadn’t realised it yet.

Off you go, I look forward to seeing you on the shelves. Well, your book at least. If I see you on some shelves I might consider you a little strange, perhaps. Go and write it, I challenge you. Just be nice and respectful to Earl, OK?

Upsetting the Established Order

“My words will either attract the strong of mind or offend the weak one”
– Unknown
“What is freedom of expression? Without freedom to offend, it ceases to exist.”
– Salman Rushdie
From the very first draft of the very first chapter, we realised that The Chronicles of Enoch were going to offend some people, perhaps a lot of people. We know that the topics we are going to be handling are some sensitive ones.
We ar, however, of the long-held opinion that it is, effectively, the job of the artist to challenge how people think about and perceive what is around them. It is our job not only to entertain but to challenge ideas and lead our readers (in my case) to ask questions; not only about the topics we dramatise, but our words themselves. A true writer wants debate and opposition because that means people are thinking and they are talking.
“As a writer, you know you are doing your job well when they try to stop you from doing it.”
– Anon
If we are faced with controversy, that means we are challenging what needs to be challenged but, of course, as with everything else, there are lines that should not be crossed and consequences for crossing them.
Lines in The Sand
We know that we are supposed to defend freedom of expression and challenge societal norms. We know that controversy is part of our reason of being in many cases. We remember those who stood up when no-one else would and wrote what nobody else seemed to dare to.
We do indeed have the right to write what we want to, it is enshrined in the values of both Freedom of Speech and Freedom of Expression.
I take my stick and point at the sand.
Just because you can does not mean that you should.
I draw the line and wait for the inevitable questions.
  1. Graphic murder and graphic rape. I do not think we should try to force these into the mainstream. I don’t mind offending people so I will just say it; if you enjoy reading that, you might consider asking yourself why. Reading is meant to be a pleasure but taking pleasure from such things is…well…now, horror and gore have their place but pure gratuitousness for its own sake does, in my opinion, not
  2. Graphic descriptions of the abuse of children. Though a horrifying trend and something which needs to be addressed and dealt with, we don’t need to know about it, we don’t need to read about it
Now, there are more, probably, but for me, those are the only reasons I would have for throwing a book in the bin and never returning to it. There is a worrying trend these days to represent these things, especially among new writers looking to make waves and use controversy and shock value to get immediate attention for their work but I ask them, is that the reputation you want to have as an artist?
Of course, my list of lines I do not cross will be different to other people’s, that is normal and part of the process of learning.
Some say religion cannot be touched. Others say that gender identity or race must be addressed and the book’s characters inclusive. Fair enough. I wouldn’t tolerate racism or homohobia/sexism personally so no characters I write who practise that will come to a good end.
The Controversy List
There will be several things which will offend the tender sensibility in Darkness Within alone. Let me tell you about them;
  1. The Roman Catholic Church, American Mega Church Evangelism, and most of the ‘Christian Cults’ of the USA were set up and are directly managed by Lucifer and his cohorts. The idea of this was to muddy the message and lead humans away from The Creator in order to prove his point. The demon Sammael is resident in Rome and is the Pope’s closest adviser. Those who follow almost all branches of modern Christianity are, to a greater or lesser degree depending, following the Devil, which is ironic.
  2. The angels are not pure and unblemished beings. Towards humans they are distant and slightly disdainful. The long lists of moral laws we have tacked on to the whole thing interest neither them nor their Father even vaguely. The clothes we wear, the buidling we go to on which day and what we call it is irrelevent to them, very much beneath their notice.
  3. That the US military, as well as the militaries of most developed nations are under Lucifer’s control, Abaddon uses them as a money making machine and sometimes as simple entertainment.
  4. All of our conspiracy theories, fancy fantasies of New World Orders, aliens, faked moon landings, dodgy assassinations, etc are all the invention of the being who came up with internet porn.
  5. A certain US politician in high office , who is replaced by a neutrotic demon bears quite a resemblence to a real politician and may or may not make satirical milage at his expense.
  6. The modern Bible is essentially an invention designed to keep people both confused and oppressed. Lucifer is responsible for most of it, togther with his fellow high-ranking demons. They added bits, removed parts, brutally edited others. They did anything they could to remove any clear message or possibility for confusion.
That is just the beginning, though. To me, everything is fair game as long as it does not cross my line in the sand or be designed to specifically hurt people.
The Politically Correct Trap
Now, before we start, there is absolutely nothing wrong in treating people of any minority or anyone who does not conform to what society calls ‘the norm’ the same way as everybody else. I encourage and applaud those who face struggle every day.
Here we agree, right?
Being aware of offending and conscious adaptation of your behaviour to avoid that are great but, as with everything, it must be a choice. Let’s be honest, there are ignorant and stupid people in the world, quite a few of them, who are content to blame others for their woes and hold very outdated opinions, not at all up to speed with society as a whole.
That is their inalienable right. You cannot force their worldview to converge with yours. There are going to be people who have highly inaccurate opinions about Black people, Asian people, LGBTQIA+ people in all their beautiful variety, Jews, Liberals, Republicans, Southerners, people from any country that is not theirs or hold any opinion which differs to their own….
With people existing in their infinite and all-splendoured variety, ignorant, hateful, and stupid also exists, it is unavoidable. They were either born that way or some negative life experiences may have made them that way. You can’t look at them and know.
You can protest, you can campaign, you can be involved in activism and work to change opinions on the matter but you cannot force people to agree with you or be unable to voice opinions they feel are justified.
That is what led to Brexit, that is what led to Donald Trump (not Krampus)!!
Look, I’m in my mid 40’s and I remember when it was fine to make racist jokes on TV and have white actors dressed up as black or Indian people in mockery and it was ok. Gay people were exaggerated and exposed to hilarity. Famous LGTBQIA+ people took the secret of their sexuality and identity to their grave, never being able to come out in public.
All that has changed for the better. We’re not there yet but we’re improving.
Education, you see, that’s how it works. People believe this, so you teach them that and the smart ones learn. The stupid or wilfully ignorant ones will not.
It’s just like school, college, university, etc. Everyone (in theory) attends the same classes, lectures and tutorials, everyone has access to the same books, everyone receives equal exposure to the same material but not everyone passes the final exam and those that pass do not all receive the same grades.
You cannot force everyone to pass. No law, no rule, and no amount of careful campaigning or protesting will encourage some people to either increase their grades or pass. They just don’t have it in them
You could even say that they can’t help who they are…
Now, stop before misquoting me because I am not defending bigots of any kind; judging anyone because of aspects, characteristics or behaviours they cannot help is always wrong.
Do you hate your child for misbehaving or placing themselves in danger? No, you educate them and present them with consequences. They tend not to do it again after that.
How Lucifer Drove in the Wedge
Now you see how he did it do you not? Identify differences and work on ignorance across the board. Make people scared of the different, feed the tribalism. He programmed these fears and hatreds deep into his religions and doctrines. The Dark Ages were one of his greatest victories because he bred a hatred of education and love of ignorance deep into the bones of our civilisation.
Before then, wisdom, even the folkesy kind those ‘witches’ had a lot of, were respected and looked up to. Being able to learn and grow was seem as a positive thing. Instead the devil replaced such beliefs that all those things came from him when the opposite was actually true.
Anything which could keep humans content and united was forbidden; anything that kept them divided and secretly guilty was encouraged. All the things we had in common were turned into sins and silly rules that were impossible to follow were introduced. Nobody could abide by all of them but that did not stop those who slavishly followed the obvious ones from looking down theirs noses at and feeling superior to those judged not to be doing so.
It all boils down to fear ultimately…
It was actually rather brilliant when you think about it. Afterall, feeling proud and superior for what someone else has done is an essential part of human nature.
Take a look at sports as an example; your team wins and you celebrate and mock supporters of the other team although you contributed nothing at all to the endeavour. It’s the same with religion, your team is deemed to be the correct one so it’s OK to do whatever you like to supporters of the other team when all you do is show up once a week.
The same thing can apply to socio-ethnic groups; yours is determined to be the dominant one but what do you do to contribute? You just show up and wear the t-shirt. as it were.
Controversy is impossible in the artist’s world; we tend to think quite differently to other people and look an explanation of why things are as they are. We tend to think not in straight lines on curves or, at times, more complicated forms. Often we are misfits and therefore have sympathy and understanding of those that society applies the same label to; those that refuse to simply sit down and accept the shoddy treatment they are receiving as “their lot in life”.
We see the world as everyone else sees it and decide that is not enough, so we use words, sounds, paints, and other materials to show it in a way be like better and dearly wish that others see it too as they share our hard work.
It is no coincidence that artists tend to be the first people to dictator rounds up during his revolution or one of many purges. We court controversy, are rebellious, and like to challenge the established way of doing things. We do not fit in with our heads down and question nothing; we question everything.
Nobody likes it when someone starts pointing out the holes…
The Chronicles of Enoch, over the course of our research, managed to find an awful lot of them and we intend to pick at each and every one.

The Human Animal

I originally wrote this article in the hidden backwaters of my much forgotten WordPress account back in 2008 or so, maybe even 2007, I honestly forget now. I was – haha – inspired by the little picture here above and, in typical oddball writer fashion I began making stories and thinking about this strange image…It was doing the rounds for Facebook of whatever served as a medium for the rounds being done in at the time. I, of course, entered ‘Social Commentary’ mode and began to take off on mental wanderings.
It is a well known fact that writers are arrogant little buggers almost universally. We all think we are the best, that our insight into current events hold The Answer. That our social commentary, as represented in our latest work, is going to affect The Big Change! We all feel like M. Night Shyamalan’s character in The Lady in the Water as we go off on a writing binge, knowing we are going to do it this time. We might even be right. However, how we see, perceive and think about things, often in a very non-linear and very much odd fashion, that makes us writers isn’t it? We start by observing, commenting and then making out our own little sequences of explanation.
As I said, I wrote this long ago but am resurrecting it now because it’s just as valid now as it was then. Also I like the photo, the fake chimera looks cute and slightly pensive. Finally, I was thinking about some things related to this very topic earlier on today, let’s see whether I add them on or not…
How can we humans say we are not animals? Can one look around the world today and observe animals on the TV, in zoos or, for the more fortunate, in the wild and not say we are so unlike them? Are humans, as it has often been said, just a thin veneer of civilisation away from the ‘roughened beast’ and not as superior as we like to believe?
It seems human civilisation, in many ways, exists simply to prove the animals wrong, societal norms and rules, laws; they exist to try and hide what we secretly know and are deeply afraid of. If the rules went away, if the consequences were no longer there, if no-one were to judge….
Watch the wars and the conflict around the world and, when we break it down, it can be seen as the ago old act of marking and expanding (or defending) one’s territory, of establishing dominance, ensuring feeding and breeding rights. War is one example, fame is another, business is yet another. In all three we will tread upon, ‘defeat and cause to retreat (tail a-tween legs) our rivals and detractors in order to gain the dominance and success we think is ours by right. And what is this success but achievement of the most deeply programmed of biological goals? Look at how the young and not so young idolise the famous, the successful and why? Because success is shown as someone who has good genes to pass on, will mother or father good children and bring success and therefore status to anyone who is closely involved with them. So are we so unlike animals, the wolves and lions and other pack animals who have their Alphas who the others challenge or fawn upon, even emulate? Can we say we are so different or even better than them? Or are we actually worse?
Think of the war stories we keep hearing about. When Order breaks down, brutality, survival and killing become all too common, think of the stories we always hear about. The rapes, the murders, the doing as thou wilt which becomes all too common. The Rule of The Gun makes men believe they are above other laws, that they are the law and so can do as they please. Every major war or extended conflict which has taken place ever has been witness to this behaviour. Every single one.
Add to all this that we humans have something ‘other’ which animals apparently lack, the seat of conscience and reasoning. Some call it the soul, the ki, the yin and yang, the anima; many different names for the same thing; we have a knowledge and understanding of the concept of the future and our place in it, of our own mortality. We know what the possible consequences of our actions may be. We can choose to do or not to do a thing. An animal, we are told, behaves according to it’s nature, a human can overcome or alter their nature. We have the moral judgement, no matter the creed or person who drives or inspires that creed, of what is right and what is wrong. We can, in effect be better than animals – so many say – by doing that which gives us no immediate or noticeable benefit, improves our status not at all and may even cost us more than it gains for us. All the religious doctrines of the world touch upon the same thing, have the same laws, to do well by others has it’s own reward. That to take advantage of or damage others is not right, and we know this down to the very depth of our souls. We seem to have a hardwired desire to help those less fortunate than us, to preserve and protect our own children or even the children of others and to revile the murderer, the rapist, the selfish boor who takes but does not give back and so…animals do that too don’t they?
Maybe they do it in a more bestial, less ‘human’ way but your dog will protect you if you’re attacked, all baboons protect their young, elephants have been observed mourning their dead. These instincts are built in deep in order to allow groups of the same species to live and to survive together. But we break the rules, many of us consider ourselves only above the herd and will disadvantage many without blinking.
So are we worse than animals in that we choose to bend or even smash what appear to be the ultimate set in built in rules of Nature or have we reached the point where we are so many, that our prejudices and beliefs now define who our herd or pack are? No longer do species or genetics matter but country, religion, region, belief, idealistic viewpoint. But we crossed the single line which no ‘lower animal’ has crossed, we kill for the things they merely posture and frighten each other for in the most part. To kill a threat to your species is one thing and can be considered right, to kill for words on a page or shouted by a demagogue can never be.
So, back to the initial premise; are we better or worse than animals? Some would still say better, because we’re at the top of the food-chain and yes, as a species indeed we are but place one human or family against one African predator and we see that we are like ants, in huge numbers we are safe. Others will say we are worse because we have the intelligence, the judgement and the ability to choose, to improve, to REASON our actions and overcome our ‘baser’ instincts yet we do what some animals do (and others no animal would ever do) for pleasure or satisfaction. Others would say we are the same because all we do is just the same as any animal does, just exaggerated by our ability to study and reason these actions through and our vastly superior numbers.
Others would say it doesn’t matter, because in a generation or few, there’ll be no animals to compare ourselves to anymore, because we’ll have wiped them all out. And here, in this fact lies what makes us better or worse than any animal – depending on your viewpoint – so scared are we, with our reason and intelligence, of being just another animal, the thinking animal, that we have embarked on the largest and worst war of all, the war against Nature herself in order to prove to our confused minds that we are better than animal, that Nature has no power over us at all. Now there is a thing no other animal does so judge for yourself.
Judging…that’s the other side. I have also ascribed to a rather unpopular view of evolution. I think that maybe evolution happened as Darwin etc. described it but am also of the onion that they got it wrong. You see; here is my premise. Humans like to think that they are special, right? They like to think that they are superior and the very Apex of Creation’s Ladder. All religions give us hints of that. Earth was special. The Human race was special. This or that Nation, People or Ethnicity was special. This interpretation of the Bible is the right one and everyone else goes to Hell for Heresy. I am a Christian, by the way, as many of you know. I believe in God and Jesus, though, not in some fancy building or man wearing a dress which costs more than their average congregation earns in a year, between them all. So what does that make me? Me I suppose, I’ll have to make up a word, I suppose. Come on writer-man, do your thing!
Oh, I did it again didn’t I? Right! So, the human race thinks that they have to be the best and the top of the chain, right? Stands to reason that we evolved from a predator because they’re the best right? We had to have been carnivores at least, stands to reason. Except for some very vital evidence no-one likes to talk about.
That’s right! There are many thing we SHOULD have in common with our purported ancestors but don’t. Things we should have IF we direct-line evolved from them. Things like higher strength, endurance, larger teeth, better eye-sight, a digestive system which is actually built to digest red meat well….we need a Missing Link and there isn’t one! See this is the biggest misdirection in human history. There is no missing link. We will never find it but they will keep ‘looking’, want to know why? The human race doesn’t want to admit to it’s actual roots does it?
Take a look at human behaviour with me and answer for me a few questions as we go along. Ready? Look at our teeth. OK. Now, look at our behaviour, when disaster strikes what do we do? Look at what happens when panic sets in on a group of humans. Look at how we blindly ‘follow the leader’. Look at how we want to belong and be accepted. Sound like familiar behaviour? Sounds a lot like herd behaviour to me, what about you? But chimpanzees do… apophenia. Coined by German neurologist Klaus Conrad, it means looking for patterns where there are none, something humans do a lot of. Trying to find similarities which we are desperate to find. It’s not fudging the facts as such, we’re not doing it on purpose…
Now, before you get all excited; I am not going on the whole meat-eaters vs vegetarians angle here. I don’t care what you choose to put in your body nor by which orifice it gains egress. Humans enjoy making generalisations and assumptions too but we’ll get to that another time. I’m simply looking at the evidence we do have and not the evidence we are certain we will find one of these days to prove what we want to be proven.
Look at your average human and tell me one thing, your average human, not Chuck Norris clones or people who’re like how you think you are. How long would one of them last in the wild? Now, take your dog, evolved from wolves, domesticated by man. Most breeds couldn’t look less like wolves if they tried. For example;
I still bet you cash money that this spoiled little bugger, this seemingly ineffectual puffball of an animal would last at least twice as long as your average person would. See here’s the thing. When you read about people surviving in the wild by themselves you realise there is one vitally important thing that they learn in the process. A man, by himself, will struggle to bring down large enough game for himself and be able to eat and carry it because we have no natural adaptations for it. We have to make things to kill with, we have to make fire to cook it with, we cannot eat raw meat, we don’t have the teeth for it.
There was a favourite story of mine which spoke about the last human in existence 9 million years into the future and lost in his space craft. About the time he was in stasis (the reason for his advanced age and absence of other humans), a feline race had evolved in pretty much man-shape. The elite and the best had all killed one another in a religious war and left the idiot behind. He was the last member of his species too. If we did evolve from carnivores, we evolved from the idiots, the retards, those lacking even the most basic means of survival. If we evolved from meat-eaters, we evolved from a bloody useless one!
The only thing we seem to have kept from said ancestor is our love of violence and fighting. So maybe there was a carnivorous ancestor of ours somewhere along the chain of our history. Either that or we came from some rather belligerent omnivores/opportunistic omnivores. It really would explain an awful lot, right?

The End of All Things

The signs are all there, there is more of this and less of that than there used to be, these people are doing the things this culture or prophet predicted and it is only a matter of time before the rest of the thing he/they predicted will also happen and *poof*…


You can clear all appointments for next week because, well, there won’t be a next week…

Of course, people do rather disagree about the method the Earth will decide upon for her Big Exit or, at least, ours but we all know it’s coming, right? Stands to reason doesn’t it? Bound to happen sooner or later…

I hardly think this is a new phenomenon…

Simpler Times

Back when the world was, at least from a matter of the perspective of most people, a smaller place, the End of All Things could happen fairly often. People did not know anything about other countries; gosh some people didn’t know about cities even! If the river burst its banks and flooded a fertile little valley, killing everyone except a few (who’d die later of disease), that’s the end of the world. It’s certainly the end of it for them.

The Romans were convinced that civilisation would just stop if their Empire ceased to exist to, in a manner of speaking, the world would end because, so they said, all would descend into barbarity and chaos, ultimately ending all people worth thinking about.

Smelly tribespeople who couldn’t speak Latin did not count, apparently.

This raises the question which we think is a vital one to consider and, perhaps, answer;


  1. All the humans die or, at least, most of them.
  2. Civilisation is destroyed and our comforts with it
  3. The internet goes down for more than a day
  4. Our environment is wiped out and there is nothing of natural beauty left

These are, I think, the Big Four. A fitting number, I feel, because we also have the Four Stereotyped Animal-Riders of The End Bit. The role they will play in final events does vary. Will they just ride around and watch? Will they get involved directly? Are they simply good metaphor? Nobody really knows because they only show up the one time and do not, it would appear, carry out drills or rehearsals.

The Big Show is, it would appear, very hush-hush and need-to-know.
Now, I know what you’re thinking; there are countless ways the world could end, is not the above list too simplified?

No. It is not.

It doesn’t really matter how all the humans die out; be it aliens, pandemic, natural disaster, getting dinosaured into fossils; they die out. Gone.

Whether civilisation is ended by a zombie plague, another less virulent pandemic, talking apes with great charisma, different aliens, a robot uprising or any combination of the above, it is also gone.

If rebooting the router or unplugging it then plugging it back in again 30-60 seconds later does not work then it truly is a lost cause.

However the environment is ravaged and destroyed, it will simply be a matter of deciding who is to blame. If they are dead then it makes the process much easier, utlimately.

The fact that there are so many ways, scenarios, and methods it is considered are ‘canon’ or ‘popular’ for the Big Finish should, perhaps, set your mind wandering towards where I think it should.

A Popular Passtime

Take a look inside of a bookstore, on Amazon, on Netflix or similar, at the movies or at videogames. We do love a good apocalypse don’t we? The most popular forms of entertainment all focus around either;

  1. An imminently arriving disaster that only the heores can avert.
  2. A disaster already happened and survivers are trying to rebuild
  3. Clues to a previous disaster ae uncovered and the heroes must tell the world to prevent a similar thing happening again.
  4. The hero knows what’s going to happen but no-one believes them then it either; gets averted dead on time or happens anyway.
  5. Fantasy or Steampunk or Mad Max style world arises from the ruins of the old world.
  6. Vampires or other mythical/magical creatures regain dominance with less humans around.
  7. Totalitarian regime arises “to protect” survivors of said disaster or previously benevolent organisation/government goes that way, drunkon the power of how much humanity needs them.

In essence, we do love a good disaster or look at what might happen to humanity after one. It could be said that humans are rather a dramatic species.

You see, they are rather obsessed with the extinction of their species or, at least, the extermination of a large proportion of it. We wouldn’t really call that a great survival instinct…

Imminent Doom

This past 50 years alone we have had;

  1. Global nuclear war any time now, you wait and see
  2. Terrorist apocalypse and “Holy” war
  3. The Millennium Bug
  4. Predicted year 2000 one-time meteor, magnetic field polarity switch/other
  5. Predicted year 2012 Mayan apocalypse
  6. Various delayed Raptures
  7. Various global pandemics

Yet here we remain. Of course it has also been a period of near constant wars in the Middle East that people do not really talk about any more; the lives and worlds of a great many have ended as a result of those.

The point is that it appears that humanity actually wants some dramatic event with stirring orchestral music to unexpectedly occur to the world in spite of the fact that it would kill millions including some people they know or care about. Seems odd to me.

Either that or that is what “they” want us to be thinking about. As we have mentioned in previous articles, “they” control our governments and our media; they control what we see and even what we think. Of course, we can no more agree on who “they” are than we can on how the world will end.

There is a serious point being raised though; we watch for patterns and concordance and wonder whether any of you have noticed anything recently? We’ll leave it there for now because we do not wish to repeat what we covered in other articles.
However our sense of always living under the weight of imminent but nebulous doom is created, we cannot deny that it is there and could, were someone of a mind, be made use of…


The world is going to end just like everyone is going to die. Sooner or later it is the one fact of which we can be certain. What each of us considers “the world” will end and none of truly know what comes next.

Therein lies, perhaps, the root of our fascination; the potential for our very personal world to end quite abruptly one day.

So, we face that fear by entertaining ourselves with disasters averted or a better life for all on the other side.

The Thirteenth Watcher

A Short Story

A hilltop in the centre of the town which sat within a deep valley of impassible blades of rock. Upon its table-flat peak, were equally arranged 12 chairs and upon each chair sat a god. With exact regularity, twenty-four times a day, the gods would rise, turn to their right and bow to the next god, then each god would step to the right, bow to the 13th chair at the centre of the circle and sit in the next chair along. Stand. Turn. Bow. Step. Bow. Sit. Regular, even, predictable, unchanging. Stand-turn-bow-step -bow-sit, stand -turn-step-bow-sit, stand-turn-bow-step- bow-sit.  So passed the day, 12 times round, stand-turn-bow–step-bow-sit. So passed the night, 12 times; stand-turn- bow-step -bow-sit.

Twenty-four times a day without fail, without variance, without delay, stand-turn-bow-step-bow-sit. Twenty-four flights of wide stone steps wound up the hill from the town below, twenty-four turns of sixty steps each. The hill was tall but you could always see at least one god stand-turn-bow-step-bow-sit in their regularity for the gods were large and wore robes of deep red. Wherever one stood in the town, one could see at least one god stand-turn- bow-step-bow-sit, when the time came so you would know to lay down whatever you were doing and leave it, for the time for that task, had passed and it was time for the next task. 

Before the gods had come, this town was a different place. It was sung that the world had fallen into darkness and disaster that almost all the people on it had fallen to savagery and war. A great chaos and Great War had left few people remaining. It was told that the survivors of the chaos had found their way here and built this town, thinking themselves safe, but monsters had come, demons and twisted men to take what little they had remaining. They had fought, defended, and hidden here in the dark. 

The people of the town knew nothing of the outside world though; they lived in their valley and lived by their hill and their gods. No-one dared venture out into the wasteland beyond the walls of this green and fertile valley, for there was death, the elders said. There was no order, no gods, to be found. 

It was also told – not written, writing took too long and was a wasteful activity when one man could speak to another man, one woman another and communicate their message without first one having to compose their missive and take time, then another receive it, read it and compose their reply, what a wasteful foolishness. One could talk and tell tales of the other times while eating or relaxing at the end of a day’s work before bed, no need for one to write when one had a mouth and there was no-one outside of this valley anyway – that people used to waste time and had no disciple. They would do nothing all day and pay no attention to the passage of time, they had no gods or not real ones they could see at least, or they would waste time, spending all day on one activity and not pausing each time the gods stand-turn-bow-step-bow-sit to leave that task for ended then turn and start the new as seems sensible.  

They were fat and lazy and would then, after too long in their sloth, rush around like flies trying to get everything done in the turns which remained. Of course, they never got anything done right! Therefore, in this disorder and constant stress and rushing, they were always angry and so had wasteful wars, which ended their wasteful world. In addition, they, the darker stories told, are the ones who wait without in the darkness. 

It was said the gods came to the hill to protect the town and the refugees of the fallen wasteful world, although it was never said where they came from, no-one seemed to care as long as they were there, protecting, in their stand-turn-bow-step-bow-sit rhythm. The gods never spoke and no-one seemed to know where the Rules came from, though everyone followed them because they worked. The Rules were not written anywhere, the gods never proclaimed them – for the gods never spoke, just repeated their stand-turn-bow-step-bow-sit rhythm – and none recalled ever being taught them, everyone just knew. The best defence is order. As the gods would stand-turn-bow-step-bow-sit you start your task and when they next stand-turn-bow-step-bow-sit you stop and begin your next. If you did not complete your task in that turn of the gods, you waited until the same turn the next day to carry on with it. A full cycle was the full twenty-four turns so if someone were to order a table and was told it would take three cycles, they knew it would take three cycles to arrive guaranteed, it was hardly complex it simply required efficiency and discipline.  

The system worked. The Rules made sure no time was wasted and made the people of the town very efficient at their daily tasks because their lives, governed by their silent gods were all about efficiency and good use of time. It was considered right and it was considered proper to not waste more turns on a task if it could be avoided. If was wasteful and everyone knew where wasteful led to. 

The town was quiet and industrious, everyone knew their tasks, got on with their lives and followed the Rules and learned to specialise so well in their field so they could effectively do things as alloted without stress. No-one rushed, that was wasteful and led to disorder.  Everyone make sure they did things right because, if you did it badly, that was wasteful because you have to do it all over again in another turn. So, not only do you waste one turn but you waste two! This is what led to the world to fall and order is the only protection from darkness. Therefore, everyone did their work well; bakers baked and made sweet treats, builders built, housewives housewived, everything in its place. It was all ordered, it was all right. 

Stand-turn-bow-step-bow-sit went the rhythm stand-turn-bow-step-bow-sit, start your task, stand-turn- bow-step-bow-sit, end your task. 

At night, the sickly sun would set but the townsfolk would not stop, they would continue and, with an instinct seemingly built in, turn their heads to watch the gods stand-turn-bow-step-bow-sit before going indoors or home to eat. They would then follow their tasks until the last stand-turn-bow-step-bow-sit of the day signalled sleep. Of course, after the sun went down one had to still see the gods stand-turn-bow-step-bow-sit and for this thirteen fires were lit on the hilltop. Children were chosen for this very important task for the night has the most terrors, needs the greatest protection; all must see the gods when darkness descends.

Those considered dangerous said there were voices out there, human voices. The same ones, those sensibly considered insane by all decent people, said the screams were human too; outside their safe valley, there was nothing but emptiness and death, they said to anyone who would listen. Which was no-one, of course. 

 As light failed, a child would arrive at the top step to wait. As the gods stand- turn-bow-step-bow-sit he will enter the circle of their chairs and light each fire, leave fresh fuel and matches and return to the first step. Counting in their head a fraction of a turn, they descend each of the sixty steps, count, step, count, step. As they reach the sixtieth – stand-turn-bow-step-bow-sit go the gods –  and they count again. Count-step-count-step sixty counts and sixty steps and stand-turn-bow-step-bow-sit. 

As they descend, as the sun rises, they will meet along the way she who is to light the flames for that next night, count-step-count-step stand-turn-bow-step-bow-sit. Up a child goes to light the night’s fires, down comes the child who lit them last, one ascending, one descending always. Count-step-count-step sixty counts per flight, stand-turn-bow-step-bow-sit for the next flight, twenty-four flights and twenty-four turns. The fires are always lit afresh each night as the fuel was exhausted when day dawned. This is important; the night fires must never go out. 

There is a thirteenth chair inside the circle of twelve. The figure in this chair does not stand-turn-bow- step-bow-sit, it does not move at all. It is silent, as are the other gods but it looks like a statue. Only the wind moving its robe, a darker greyish brown, .shows it is not of stone. No-one knows who this is. It sits, this figure, always facing out but as faceless in the deeply hooded robes as the gods are. The children who ascend light the fire at its feet and leave fuel and matches beside its seat but it acknowledges them not. 

A child has sometimes reported god number eleven nodded its hood at them or god number five made a sound but no-one knows for sure. No-one says anything about the thirteenth. The children whisper that they are afraid of it, the air feels  colder where it sits, they saw ice on its seat, at its feet. They say it is scary and they dare not look into the emptiness of its cowl. No adults ascend to where the gods stand-turn-bow-step-bow-sit as this is forbidden so such stories are dismissed as the imagination of children. 

There are nights when the turns of darkness are longer, the air colder, the stars strange, that strange stories are told in huddled groups in warm kitchens.  People hear things in the darkness beyond the valley that they try their best to ignore . Strange and frightening noises, noises one cannot describe. No-one knows what these noises are for no-one leaves the town, the valley, and the hilltop to investigate; at least none that might have returned. Many mutter that they have no wish to know what the noises are, if it is not of the valley then it cannot be good. Were it good, would not the valley and the gods welcome it inside?

Then, no refugees, no-one from outside the valley had entered the valley in the time of any currently alive, not the eldest of the elders had heard of such a thing. What is outside of the valley should remain there! They cry and mutter, shaking their grey heads. We do not want anything from outside in here. The outside is where everything went bad, before we had our gods, before we had order. 

One these strange nights, the girl or the boy who lit the fires at nightfall are sometimes heard to mutter, once they return down the steps the next night, of strange things above. The child who they meet on the way down (that child’s way up) have spoken of how pale and afraid the descending child looks, how they met not their eyes, extended no gesture of greeting. Speech is forbidden on the steps to the hilltop.  No-one knows who forbids it or why; it simply is the Rules. Among the children – for adults are quick to shush and reprimand the child who attempts to speak of their sacred duty – there is hushed and whispered talk of strange things indeed on that darkest and longest of nights. Some, in hushed and hidden groups, claim that they say the thirteenth move. 

The gods have completed their rhythm of stand-turn-bow-step-bow-sit to signal work is ended, the mothers or fathers are preparing the night meal, the children are, as children are wont, playing in the yard. Talking in whispered voices, giggles or exclamations quickly hushed by the others, a group often sits behind a storage shed. A bold child with dark hair, pale skin, one known for boisterous play, occasionally earning sharp  rebuke from an adult, holds his court. In an exaggerated whisper, he tells of his ascent and descent 2 cycles gone, for his duty fell upon the last long night. 

He had climbed count-step, count-step up the flights. Sixty steps, count-step, sixty more, it is such a long and far way! Thank the gods and Mum & Dad for the thick robes of the fire-lighter. 

He has a future as a story-teller, this boy.

Count-step, count-step, sixty more. On and on until the last count-step, count-step and the gods above made their last stand-turn-bow-step-bow-sit as the boy entered the circle to fulfil his sacred duty. The gods were seated, unmoving and silent, the wind fluttering their robes. Each facing outward, hands (if hands there were in those voluminous sleeves) on knees (or where knees might be). The thirteenth more silent and still he seemed. The stone by his feet was cold, as cold as the wood was arranged in the metal bowl, so cold that the matches in his shaking fingers would not light, and a whiff of wind would keep catching them and extinguishing them. He was counting in his head or trying to but the numbers were getting muddled. He knew he had little time left! 

The fires must keep burning, night after night and especially on the night when the long dark came. The noises from beyond the valley never came close enough to see what was making them but no-one wished to know. They shuttered their windows, locked their doors tight and tried to sleep, tried to block out and ignore the cacophony. This night it seemed louder than before, more intense, more excited 

By his count, the gods were very close to their last stand-turn–bow-step-bow-sit before he should leave and begin his descent. He has the fires of the twelve gods lit but he could not get the thirteenth’s to catch. All around the howls and the screams and the strange noises were getting worse and louder. He saw trees moving in a wind, which was not there. Of course, all of this was not making his task any easier! Cold numbs fingers, shaking, strike the match, it flares! A whiff of wind and it goes out…The twelve gods sat on impassively and did nothing. They were not moving … yet. 

Those same scandalously insane individuals to whom nobody listened said that humanity came to this place twenty generations ago. A great ship which sailed the sky had brought them here, it was said. That ship had crashed and blown up but had contained what was called a Beacon. This beacon was sort of a radio which people could hear from a long way off and, well They had heard it and come to investigate. 

Back then the gods were unknown to the people, the town not yet built, the valley not yet found. It is said that they found the valley by pure chance one day, fleeing from Them like their lives depended on it. Their lives really did depend on it as it as it happened. Only half those who were fleeing made it into the valley where the gods were waiting. It is said that the flying machines of Them fell from the sky and smashed in flames onto the floor of the valley, killing the horrid occupants instantly. That was the last time one of Their feet touched the soil of the valley.

None the gods forbade could enter.

Once, they said, a great bird of metal had come close to the edge of the valley; a great giant of a bird like none seen before, all fire and light. It had hovered, screaming like a menacing beast in the air before vanishing into the mountains. People had whispered about dragons before lowering both their heads and voices. Watching the gods impassively stand-turn-bow-step-bow-sit… stand-turn-bow- step- bow-sit and begin their next task.

They allowed no dragons in the valley either.

All around the town people wrapped themselves more firmly in blankets and tried not to look at their windows or even get out of bed. They must trust in the gods and not waste time, worrying was a waste of time, the Rules said, though no-one knew where or why it said that but the Rules were the Rules and the Rules kept them safe, just like the gods did. The noises would go away, the day would come and none of this would worry anyone. It sounded awfully close and loud though … sounded awfully, well, awfully human and like words…

Cursing was not allowed or encouraged, the Rules again but no-one was watching as the boy started to run out of both matches and time. The Rules don’t count if no-one is … the thirteenth was not looking outward impassively as he had been earlier, sleeves where arms should be folded in its lap. The thirteenth was looking straight at the boy. Or at least the darkness inside his hood was, for there was no face. He heard a shuffle somewhere and tore his gaze away from that shadow … the gods stood… 

It sounded awfully close now; there were different sounds now, crashes, rocks tumbling. Near one house a huge rock fell from the high valley wall right in their yard, squashing a half-finished table. All around the valley rim, there was noise, noise, noise… 

The gods turned.

The boy had passed through his entire – and by necessity, inventive – repertoire of curse words and was inventing several new ones, quite an achievement for a 6-year-old but he had always been an inventive child. He had very few matches left now and no fire whatsoever. Three matches left … flick… strike … flare … out. Two. Flick. … Strike … flare … out! One match. 

The gods bowed… 

Last match, oh gods oh gods light! Flick. .. Strike … flares … shit! No more matches. He’d gone through the ones, which had been here already, and the spares he’d brought with him, there were none left. The noises were reaching a feverous pitch and there were rocks falling into the valley, trees swaying without wind and falling over even… 

The gods stepped. .. 

He cast around for something, anything, any single thing to get this fire lit but he was running out of time… 

The gods bowed… 

There was a noise beside him and he caught a glimpse of light in the corner of his eye. It was a burning piece of wood. Who-? A hand held the wood. The hand was made of bones. The fire was clearly blackening the bone somewhat, but the owner of the bony hand appeared to neither notice of care. The boy numbly, silently, carefully took the burning wood by the safe end and dropped into the bowl by the thirteenth’s feet. The flame caught, the oil soaked wood in the bowl ate it up. He saw fingers of bone pointing somewhere over to his right, he looked. 

The gods sat… 

The noise started to die away as the flames rose and the gods silently watched but the thirteenth was still pointing. The boy, the danger over and his hide apparently saved, breathed. The thirteenth was now pointing with two fingers, he noticed. Curiosity overcame his fear for a moment and he looked right at the fingers, all bony and strange … at which point the fingers poked him in the eyes. His vision blurred with sparks and tears, the boy decided that leaving would be the wisest course and started for the stairs down to the village. 

He seriously broke the Rules many more times that night, stealing many a look look back as he descended. The thirteenth’s hood faced towards him a moment, seemed to nod and then turned back to wherever it normally looked at. He gathered himself and began his careful ascent down with eyes fixed ahead. He had broken enough Rules for one night; he decided and made sure to count-step, count-step being sure to be in time with the gods and their endless rhythm. He heard them shuffle and the gods stand-turn- bow-step-bow- sit and he progresses down the next flight… count- step, count-step… 

When the girl ascending crossed him on the steps, she was faintly surprised, though still very sleepy and not paying enough attention to ask too many questions, he looked both haunted and frightened though, which was odd. He was also smiling, which was odder… 

He remembered what he’d seen when the thirteenth had poked his eyes. In the explosion of stars which filled his vision, he saw inside the shadow and saw the face. It was a skull, it was a face, and it was a skull again…it was his face and it was not…it was the face of a boyishly beautiful man with eyes of different colours them it was his face…then it was nothing. 

The gods stand-turn-bow-step-bow-sit…stand-turn-bow- step- bow-sit… stand- turn-bow-step-bow-sit. .. Stand-turn- bow- step- bow-sit. … 


I wonder about people, they are strange and I am apparently one of them!  lol

But for anyone who works with people, you’ll understand where I’m coming from!  People can be so rude and inconsiderate!  I mean, they cut you up at junctions because their time is more important than their fellows; they treat people who are ‘serving’ them as inferiors because what they want is most important….the list goes on and it amazes me often!

I mean, why do people behave like that?  Is it out society or our upbringing?  If that’s the case, then why are not all of us like that?  Why do some of us get upset and confused by what is supposedly “acceptable” human behaviour.  We have conflicts, we have wars and fights, all over essentially nothing!  People harbour hatreds and dislikes over nothing.  People judge other people harshly and only reveal their own failings and insecurities.  People are people because of one simple fact, they don’t actually know what being human means!  Can anyone tell me what it actually means to be human?  Humans spend their entire lives tortured by two things (among others); what life means and that death is stalking them.  We strive to be the best because that way we’ll be remembered when we’re gone.  We’re constantly trying to fit in and decide what behaviour is acceptable and what is not in society because we don’t actually know!  We conform to social norms because we don’t know any better!  Look at children, they don’t judge people on their own, they don’t conform, they don’t feel they have to behave in a certain way in order to make people accept them.  Human adults though, feel they have to behave in a certain way in order to be accepted, people who won’t do this are shunned and people try to make then change in order to conform.  Once children reach a certain age, the same thing happens; they must appreciate a certain kind of music, like certain things, conform to trends and behaviours or they are shunned and even bullied.  And why? Because people are frightened of anything not inside the realms of  “normal” because this invites chjaos and this invites questions, questions they do not know the answers to.

Chaos and change scare the majority of folks, they like things to be constant and inflexible, unchanging.  We’re essentially afraid of the dark, the unfixed, the uncertain.  Our old enemy is chaos, Eris, disorder.  Those who do not follow the herd are potential agents of of chaos and the end of society and are excluded.    All because humans don’t know how to be human on their own, they think that by conforming and following the ‘rules’ they are being human because that’s what the other humans are doing, therefore it must be right!  But no-one remembers why they even do these things!  Ok, now some behaviours like murder, rape, harming of others or children, stealing and so on are against the rules with good reason but most of us instinctively know what right and wrong are; anything which harms others is wrong, anything which benefits others without harming yet others is good.  But some things consider to be good are not necessarily so, some things considered bad are perhaps objectionable at most but we can no longer remember why they are bad; we blindly follow these rules because to do otherwise requires us to think and we don’t seem to good at that on our own!

Tell me, anyone who cares to comment; what do you think makes humans human and why do we follow rules which we don’t even know the reason for?    Are we individuals or are we sheep?  Society needs rules because if chaos were given free rein would it be the end of the human race or a herald of change?  The door is open, the table laid….