Just before he jumped Gerald cleared his mind of everything except the image of Claire as he’d last seen her dressed as Mr Spock at a Star Trek convention.

For years Claire had plagued him with her obsession but the look on Leonard Nimoy’s face when she’d asked him to autograph 23 books was the final frontier. He’d get his revenge by making her the subject of ridicule as the woman whose husband killed himself dressed as a wombat.

He’d considered dressing as Gordon Brown but instead randomly chosen a wombat. Claire wouldn’t be able to figure out why; no matter how much “logic” she applied and would probably write to Leonard for advice. As usual he’d send a signed photo with the postscript “Live Long and Prosper” which, for once, would have a certain irony.

He took a final peep over the cliff edge imagining Claire behind him, phaser at the ready. Then propelling himself forwards, he stretched his arms wide and fell into space.

But instead of his life flashing before him he began to fly, soaring on the crest of the wind like a heavenly seagull.

“Fuck you Starship Enterprise!” he screamed, riding the currents with childish delight until with a gentle flop he lay giggling in the breaking surf.

He’d tell Claire he’d discovered how the transporter worked.

Then he’d go on a mission. Where he’d explore strange new worlds, seek out a new life, a new civilization, and boldly go where he had not been before.

Having spent the last 8 months watching my daughter grow up, all I can say is:  I want to be a child again.

She lives for right now.  For this moment in time.  For that toy that is just out of reach, so will do her best to get there and will play with it.  The toy she put down to get to this one is now forgotten.  It doesn’t matter to her as it will be there later.

She see’s everything as something new.  As something wonderous.  Why does the light come on when I press this button?  Why does it make noise when I do this?  It is a world of fantasy and a world where every single day is a new adventure for her.

She doesn’t know hate.  She cries when I leave the room for a few seconds because she doesn’t want me to go, and as soon as I come back she will smile and laugh.  When she is hungry, she gets fed.  When she is thirsty, she gets a drink.  When she is tired, at that moment in time she will lay her head on me, put her arms against me to hold me and will go to sleep.  I then sit there staring at her face showing a relaxed expression, happy in where she is.  I listen to the gentle soft breathing while she is laying peacefully.

There is no hate in her life.  There is no wishing the day was over to start the next one.  She is loved by all who know her and in turn she shows them affection back.  This is not because they gave her the attention, but because the world has not gotten to her yet.  The outside world of hate and anger and violence does not exist in her life.  Yet.

But one day it will come.  And no matter how much I don’t want it to, it has to happen as there is no avoiding it.  One day she will be afraid of something and I hate society for putting her in that position.  That one day, all the innocence she currently has will be gone.  Forever.  And she will become the cynical person I am who watches the news and hears of murders, anger, hatred and all the other crap that goes on in the world today.

It should be many years until that day happens but it breaks my heart to know that it is unavoidable.   There are those that will say it is avoidable, but the world doesn’t work like that. 

But given the chance, I would become that child again.  Even if for only a day, just to feel how amazing it must feel to not have a care in the world.

I will get around to writing more on this site!

  You probably had to think twice about the above statement. Perhaps, if you were an examiner or editor you may have already discarded it. Hopefully, you have persevered and made sense of it and decided to continue reading believing what follows might be of interest to you. The deliberation you have made in order to continue reading illustrates two conflicting theories; whether or not writing can be successful without correct spelling and punctuation.

   The first theory, which is one that is perhaps becoming increasingly dominant, is that spelling and punctuation takes second place to the content of the writing. In a group discussion with some former student colleagues of mine it was suggested to me that the emotional or academic value of material is more important than using accepted writing conventions. One person suggested that James Joyce’s Ulysses was an example of successful writing despite the complex sentence construction and another suggested that poetry was an example of how communication can be effective without excessive punctuation.

  The opposing theory favours correct spelling and punctuation; it suggests communication is ineffective if writing is littered with errors. In the discussions with my colleagues it was generally accepted that spelling mistakes are less of an issue, but correct punctuation was seen as vital to meaning. However, perhaps even with poetry, it must be acknowledged that it follows unwritten forms of punctuation and style which make it readable. For example, Shakespeare’s sonnets demonstrate an accepted poetic practice of fourteen lines of poetry in a set format containing rhythmic iambic pentameter. Without conventions such as these poetry may not have so great an impact

   Surprisingly, it was revealed in the course of further discussions that my colleague who had referred to Ulysses had not continued to read the novel beyond the first page. He believed he had actually been discouraged by the complexity of the sentence structure. Does this suggest that content itself is not enough to make writing successful for the laymen and add weight to the second theory? Is it a myth put about by academics and editors that such literary style writing is successful? Is excessive punctuation as off-putting as incorrect punctuation? In my opinion, as demonstrated in greater proportion of bestsellers, there is certainly a movement away from the literary to a more simplistic style. This could be the result of falling standards of education or even the pressures of modern life demanding an “easy read.” Either way, it is a demonstration of the changing patterns of the average reader.

   Perhaps there is a third position; one which encompasses both arguments. It depends on what you determine “successful” to mean. If a piece of writing is technically correct, but holds no interest for the reader, it could be seen as unsuccessful. Equally, if a piece of writing captures a reader’s interest, but cannot be read easily perhaps it should also be deemed a failure. It could be that there is a place where these two theories merge; maybe you cannot have one without the other.

  It would be prejudicial to suggest that you cannot be a talented writer without literacy skills. Problems, such as dyslexia, may restrict literacy ability, but not the capacity to think or imagine which are the foundations of all successful work. It is possible either by education, proof reading or editing to overcome some hurdles. It depends on your viewpoint as to where the meeting point is between the two theories; the point when a manuscript becomes untenable.

   Ultimately, there is no doubt that the content of the material is vital; millions would not have read The Da Vinci Code unless it contained dramatic and explosive material. However, the correct use of spelling and punctuation gives the right setting; it creates order out of chaos. It is also an enormous asset throughout life because, by association, it demonstrates education and learning. From completing the simplest of tasks, such as form filling, to writing an academic thesis, it will assist your endeavors.

  Accomplishment in literacy may seem a formidable task, but a novice should not be disheartened, for it is one that can be mastered and even those with diagnosed learning difficulties can be helped. In the course of time it can become second nature and an invaluable skill for life.

Copyright Mrs T 2008

You can’t miss the news (if you are in the UK.   I have no idea what my American and Canadian friends are seeing on the news) and all you hear about is Zimbabwe.  Zimbabwe and how Mugabe, the dictator is abusing his people, and not allowing fair elections.  It is frankly shocking, no doubt.  Democracy is a long way away from them, and I have nothing but deep sympathy for the people in that country.

Luckily, I am in Britain.  A country where we have a Prime Minister who we didn’t vote for, and got the job passed over without the democratic process of us voting for him.  A Prime Minister who doesn’t listen to the voters, and makes decisions on what he thinks is right and not what the people want.  A country where there is no such thing as asking the people what THEY want.

But this Prime Minister has the cheek to think he can stand up and criticise other nations for not doing as the people want.  Yes, Zimbabwe is a total mess, and I am not necessarily comparing the two.  But it seems we are very much on our way towards a situation where as much as the violence is not in this country, it doesn’t matter who we want in government.  They will do what they feel like.

Unlike Mugabe who takes his peoples money for his own greed, we have a parliment who spend thousands of tax payers pounds on new kitchens for their houses, and try as hard as they can to hide the expenses.

Two countries who are seperated by a world of difference, who are a lot closer then the government would like to think.

Thanks Mr Brown.  Don’t feel bad about stepping down any time soon.  Not that your replacement will be any better, but at least they are there legally.

I spend a lot of time alone due to working shifts.  Therefore, I spend a lot of time thinking of things that don’t really make sense.  Well, to the normal man, they don’t make sense.  To the insane or maybe just curious, maybe they do.

In life, we generally agree what the masses agree because we want to be part of the “normal”.  What if the masses are wrong? 

For instance, about two percent of females and eight percent of males are colour blind.  What if ninety eight percent of females and ninety two percent of males are actually the colour blind?  Colour blindness is caused by mutations on the X chromosome.  What if that mutation is making them see what us “normal” people can’t see?  Or that WE have the mutation?

I believe in ghosts, but have never seen a ghost.  People are quick to tell the people who say they have seen a ghost that they haven’t.  Should we therefore tell colour blind people that they aren’t colour blind, and to stop lying to us?

People are afraid to speak up about things through fear of being labelled insane.  Of course, there are indeed the insane ones.  Or are there?  What is to say that they aren’t seeing what they say they are?  We know nothing of the human brain.  What if their brain is working on a different level, and the drugs we give them are actually stopping them from seeing what is actually there, and properly harvested could actually increase what we have in life? 

Is schizophrenia the voices in the head of an insane person, or a person that has previous reincarnations awakened by a part of their brain?  Is there such a thing as reincarnation?  Who are we to say that there isn’t. 

Is there a heaven because the masses believe in it?  Is there anything when the soul leaves the body?  As I said, I believe in ghosts.  I do not believe in God.  I have no idea what the “afterlife” is.  Should I follow the masses?  Of course not. 

What if all the world you think you know is an elaborate dream?

Emotion depends on the energy that is created by the impulses in the mind.  Some sparks are stronger than others. When we gather with people that are having the same emotions the energy from those emotions pulsates through the the crowd. If you walk into this crowd in a different emotional state that energy could have an adverse effect.

To counter this uncomfortableness that some of us feel in these situations we turn to booze to alter our state of mind to flow with the surrounding energy better.  Others use drugs. Sometimes the drug used depends on the the energy being generated by the crowd you are in.

That is the simple version of events now let’s dive a little deeper.

The brain operates off electrical impulses. Each impulse has a unique energy signature. Each signature has it’s own field that it gives off. Some fields are stronger than others and can radiate outward. Some people are sensitive to these energy fields and are often referred to as empaths.  They act a a lightning rod for emotional energy and it takes it toll.

One way to recognize these people is to think of the friends that you have that keep telling you they don’t like crowds but seem fine in a crowd when the event is something they are interested in.  Of course they are fine because it is energy that is already pulsing through them. It adds to or heightens the experience.

Think of it this way. Ever got to an empty theater to see the same movie you saw with a full theater?

Ever watch a movie at home that you saw in the theater and it was not quite as good?

I theorize that has everything to with the strength of the emotional energy being generated by a crowd vs the energy generated by yourself at home.

These arew the things I sit around and think about when I am bored. Does it make you curious what I think about when I am enthused?

In every relationship there is a give and take.  That relationship can be a family relationship, or friends relationship or working relationship.  Unfortunately there is often too much give when the other party does not want to take. 

I will list an example here, which if you ever find yourself on the other end of, please take something out of this and have a think about how much you ‘give’.

I am to become a father for the first time some point in the next 7 weeks.  (I am hoping around the 6 week mark and not in a weeks time!) This has been an incredibly exciting time for a lot of people.  For myself and my wife who are going to become parents, and for friends and family who wish to shower us with gifts for our little girl. 

To the people giving gifts, they are having a wonderful time.  To myself and my wife, it is starting to ruin what should be one of the happiest times in our life.  We now have enough clothes to dress our daughter for a few months.  But she wont be the same size for a few months.  Myself and my wife have also not bought much at all.  Not because we don’t want to, but because everyone else has taken this joy away from us.  It is almost not worth me getting excited going to a store and buying something for a newborn child as it will probably not get worn. 

This is leading us to not want to be the ‘take’ in this give and take relationship we are having.  But when you ask people to slow down or to stop, they get offended and have their feelings hurt.  Is it about them?  Sadly they do not realise it is about the people about to become parents a long way before other members of family or friends.

Everyone who has had a child seems to know best and feels the need to force down a constant list of things that we “must get” or “Do not get” and “You should do this.  That is what I did”.  Sometimes the people who are learning are looking forward to learning.  Be it the hard way where it is difficult for a period and they buy something they realise later they don’t need, or to it just working out well.  But they got there on their own by finding out by either living the experience, or asking for that advice.  

So next time you think you can help someone, be it with a gift or advice, take a step back and think “Would I want this if I was in this situation?” 

You might be surprised. 

I like driving. In fact I like driving fast and I’d be the first to say that I’ve have broken the speed limits from time to time, primarily when I’ve been on the motorways. I like to feel a car swerving around a corner and every day I gloat at other drivers’ inabilities to drive within the tight curves of the roundabouts on my way to drop the kids off at school. Maybe I’ve watched Top Gear too much but driving still gives me a thrill; the power of steering wheel in my hands, the wind pulsating through the car, the challenge of man against nature.

But I am not a reckless driver. In fact I came to driving late. I didn’t actually learn to drive until I was in my early thirties; I had no need. At first I was a student and then I worked in London and suffered the daily horrors of the London Underground and then when I moved out of London I lived in central locations and I walked everywhere. Even after my first child was born I still not drive: I managed very well on my own two feet.

But the reality was that soon it would become a necessity to drive. The possibility of more children and living in the countryside was growing. I took lessons, past the exam and when we moved to our present home in a village I got my first car. Nothing grand; a pacey little Ford Fiesta but I loved it. Since then I’ve had 2 Volvos but now I’m back to a more fuel efficient and economic Ford Cmax, although I am also fortunate enough to have an old soft top Mazda. So on those few warm days in an otherwise cold British Climate I pretend I’m still young, single and glamorous and it’s a lot of fun.

But whilst I love driving I am also aware that a car is potentially a lethal weapon. Perhaps because I came to driving late I was more aware of my own mortality and of the mortality of others; that a life could so easily be ended in a moment of rash, thoughtless behaviour. Maybe it was also because I have children or maybe it was even just the way I was brought up.

So on the whole, I drive sensibly. I drive to the speed limit about town and I try never to put my children or the lives of others in danger. That’s not to say I haven’t made mistakes; we all have and that’s only human. We learn by them and hopefully they are not serious enough that we have to live with them for the rest of our lives. I had a bad skid once in my Mazda. Ironically, I was taking it for its MOT; it had just rained, the road was slippery and I was pulling out across a junction. Nothing dramatic, nothing risky. The steering wheel just took over and I swerved onto the other side of the road. Fortunately for me there was no traffic around, I regained control and another lesson was learnt; I don’t drive my Mazda in the rain anymore. Maybe that’s an overreaction but hey I’ve got three kids and I’m not going to take any unnecessary chances.

I often make jokes about The School Run but the truth is its very dangerous and not to be taken lightly.

Like today. When I saw the wreckage from a head on collision in the road.

It was pretty obvious what had happened; the nearby bypass is a death trap. It is wide and has enough room for 4 cars to travel abreast. There is no central reservation. The car that that was wrecked was an old, fast car and it was entirely on the wrong side of the road. I know these cars; everyday I see young men believing they are invincible overtaking recklessly in pursuit of speed and glory. This one obviously met another overtaking in the other direction or someone not familiar with this road and driving too wide. It’s a 60 mph speed limit; my guess he was doing at least 70 mph or more. And then –

Bang.

Dead.

Life over; a life wasted which had only just begun.

I’ve had a few close shaves myself on this road. Last year I was driving at my standard 60mph. There’s a truck overtaking another truck coming in the other direction. Idiot. But I’m not a nervous type. There’s still plenty of room and then, out of a nowhere, a car decides to overtake the second truck. He is upon me in an instant. I have no time to think. I only have reaction time and swerve into the bicycle lane. Fortunately, no bicyclist. We miss by a few inches. My heart is now beating fast, a film of fear sweeps over me, knowing that perhaps on another day, maybe with the kids in the car with more noise and distractions, I just might not have been fast enough.

What can he have been thinking? What was so important that he would risk his life and mine for such a stupid manoeuvre?

A few months ago I was also one of the first to arrive upon the scene of a young girl hit whilst crossing the road. It was a genuine accident; she’d tried to follow her friend across the road and ran into an oncoming van. It had thrown her up into air and she’d landed with at thud on the tarmac. The police and ambulance were not yet there and as my bag is full of medication as one of my son’s has some serious allergies I got out of my car to see if there was anything I could do.

But I could see there was nothing to be done.

She was unconscious, blood oozing from ear. Her body lifeless like a broken puppet.

Accidents do happen. That’s life. I’d like to think that if ever I, or any of my children and family, were involved in an unintentional accident that I would be able to forgive and indeed, if the situation was reversed, that someone would do the same for me.

But irresponsible drivers really make me angry. They risk not only their own lives but the lives of innocents. They destroy families and they are a curse to all of us who wish to travel safely. The penalties should be more severe for these people who are often repeat offenders using their mobile phones, consuming alcohol, speeding and harassing other drivers. They deserve a greater punishment than the current token gestures our feeble justice system delivers.

This afternoon when I take to the road, the wreckage will be cleared.

An empty space.

An empty space where a life should be.

And all for what?

Copyright Jane Turley 2008 

Jane’s more humorous musings can be found at The Witty Ways of a Wayward Wife.

Let’s see if I can explain the madness in my mind.

Things in here move as I desire.

It is a place to find answers to the questions that plague your life.

Come walk with me.

Tis a path to nowhere that we seek.

As others join us the answers we will find.

Come see my madness.

Come play in my mind.

Come find Divine Insanity.

You never know what I am going to write about. It could be a journey through space and time. It could be poem. It could be something completely different. It will always be entertaining. Welcome to Divine Insanity.