Seeking Neverland

As a young child I think I was quite innocent. Perhaps I was a tad over protected by my parents or perhaps I was just built that way. To be honest I do not know. I do know though that I had (and to some degree still do have) an imagination. My imagination was such that I drew other children in to my fantasy land and when I left it even momentarily, they stopped playing there. It was as if I were the catalyst for whatever fantasy we built. It was I that built layer upon layer of substance out of sticks, dustbins, stones and such. I would often delay having to go to the bathroom simply because I knew that on my return, the fantasy would be lost, gone,

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So what am I Then?

Reality leaves a lot to the imagination. ~John Lennon So what am I then? Just a bunch of atoms Whirling and swirling around I am mostly space if the truth be known unwound Nothing exists except atoms and empty space; everything else is opinion. ~Democritus What animates me? Am I like virtual reality Imagineered like Disney For fun Or something much more Returning to the place it Began Few people have the imagination for reality. ~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe What is it I see? Moreover, how do I feel Is it just electrons Being Is it all just material Physically constrained Seeing? Did you ever wonder if the person in the puddle is real, and you’re just a reflection of him? ~Calvin and Hobbes Are we connected? All things are

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Come On Americans!

OK. This is gonna be a self-serving article. Apologies and all of that. However, I am wondering why The Last Observer isn’t selling as well in the US as elsewhere….. Having lived most of my adult life in the USA I am a tad disappointed and dismayed by this. Come on you Americans….. where are you? Step up and take a look at The Last Observer. Here is what one American reviewer says…. “To the seekers of hidden knowledge everywhere, the way is long and hard. Don’t cut corners!” from the book The foreword, by Anthony Peake, begins with the statement that for centuries there has been a secret, occult tradition that developed in a parallel fashion with science. Identical in form in the beginning, their approach to reality included

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Poetry…

I have three books of poetry in print. This is their story…. I began writing poems when I was a boy. It was an outlet. A few years ago, I found a huge pile of handwritten poems that I had written dating back to 1974 and, trust me, some were just downright embarrassing! Some, however, weren’t all that bad. I put these in a pile and typed them into MS WORD for better keeping and put them all in my poetry directory on my PC. I had about 50 poems there so I once again selected what I thought were some of the best and made them into a book. It was self-published off course but it was a nice little book of poems called Weird Tales: Other World Poetry

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Time

I remember my Grandmother telling me that time sped up as you got older. I was probably 5 or 6-years old at the time and, for me, time was a mystery. On the one hand, Christmas just seemed to take eons to arrive and then, when it did, it was over in a flash. The month of December was like torture really. Each day, you would open one door on that advent calendar but each day seemed like a century. Now, of course, I understand my Grandmother’s point of view. Weeks and months flash by so fast I could swear it was still August if it weren’t for the weather and falling leaves. Time is a funny thing. We can measure it very precisely but what exactly are we measuring?

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Complexity Unchained

How many passwords do you have to remember? To be honest, I don’t know if I could count all the passwords and PINs etc. that I need to remember but I would guess it at around 75. Life is complex. I won’t get into all of the details but being a citizen of two countries and yet living in a third is part of the complexity – especially if one of those countries – the USA – treats its exPat citizens as criminals. My US tax return recently filed ran to 122 pages! I killed a tree for the US Government folks. Oh, and I still had to file my FACTA as well and my Czech tax return – which despite the love of bureaucracy here – was just 3

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I Don’t Believe You!

I went to CNN briefly this morning, glanced at the headlines and suddenly realized something. I don’t believe the stuff you write CNN or BBC or any of the other mainstream and controlled outlets. I don’t believe you Mr. Cameron, Mr. Clegg, Mr. Milliband, Mr. Obama. I don’t believe a word you all say. This is a sad development because there was a time that I did. What is published on CNN and BBC isn’t news. Its opinion. It’s spoon feeding the masses what someone wants them to believe. It doesn’t matter much what the story is it will have an angle. Its insidious and its increasingly obvious. Truth be told – and I am shocked by this myself – I would believe the Russian news service before I believed

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Musing on Reality

I have often wondered what it would be like to go back in time – in your own life – so that you could live it all again knowing what you know now and being the person that you are now. It’s perhaps an academic exercise as it cannot be done and indeed, probably shouldn’t be done as it is the life we have had that has shaped us into what we are in the present moment. But what if we could go back? We could amend the wrongs we have made. We could deal with others differently who have wronged us. We could change decisions and impact outcomes as a result. Perhaps, in some other dimension there is a me who led that ‘perfect’ life anyway. The me that

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9-11… It’s my Daughter’s Name Day

Today is 9-11 and my 6-year old daughter’s name day. In the Czech Republic, everyone has a name day – except me. My name is too English unfortunately to appear on the calendar (it does however, appear on the Slovak Republic’s Dog Name Calendar…..:-)) A few years ago though, 9-11 meant something quite different to me….. I walked into my office in The Woodlands, TX that morning shouting a cheery “Hello,” as I passed other’s office doors. One of the other business owners looked up at me as I walked by. He looked shocked and pale. I stopped. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “Have you seen the news?” he asked. “No, why?” “A plane has crashed into a building in New York,” he replied. I didn’t quite know what to say.

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Who Wants An Apocalypse?

Is it just me that grows weary (understatement) of those people who are all of the time posting end of the world doom and gloom stories? The internet is rife with these scare mongers (who half the time are promoting their recent book on the same subject and surely don’t believe a word of their own nonsense but rather hope that you will buy their book and line their posckets). Many are ‘born again’ types who seem to believe they will be bodily removed from the Earth as the rest of us die an ugly and prolonged death for our sins. The arrogance of these people is unbelievable. Let’s get something straight. For as long as history has been written, people have been seeing the signs of the End. Yet,

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