Preserving your precious bodily fluids – semen retention

Sexual discipline is ultimate power. It is first and Foremost the most nourishing source of freedom for all men. When you preserve your seed. You notice significant changes happening in your life……. Research and study this well. As its life changing!

Where have all the babies gone?

The paradox of the absyml total fertility rate in Singapore is not that the vast majority of Singaporeans have decided to set aside starting a family. The main problem with this narrative is that whenever the custodians of power are presented with questions as to how best to mitigitate this problem. They ALWAYS shift the focus by underscoring that this is not a singaporean problem as much as a trend in most advanced economies. So at the end, no one actually takes ownership of the problem and the can is just kicked down the road, least of all the prime minister. But I believe the Chinese in China will prescribe a solution to this problem. It will not be a handsome solution, but trust me since it is an existential threat to the nation. They will have to face this problem by holding it by the horns and wrestling it down. This the Chinese can and will do.

The Purpose of Life?

No! The purpose of life is not to be happy. How can such a great biological and spiritual endeavor be devoted to such a vapid goal. That is not only a monumental waste, it borders on criminal dereliction of the most irresponsible kind. No! The true purpose of life is for one to be useful to people and planet. And to accomplish this great feat, it begins with clarifying ones purpose in life.

True happiness is when man is internally convinced by his mission. It is not to be found in between the legs of a woman, not in riches and least of all in a hedonistic lifestyle.

A purposeful man does not require the toy and distraction of happiness. Inferior men and children need this! Because without perpetual distraction life is unbearable. They need it in the way the addict needs his fix. But not the purposeful man. Only his mission matters. The rest he cares little abt. Do not waste your time justifying your actions and words. These are frivolous pursuits. Instead devote yourself entirely to your mission.

Ukraine War – Tabula Rasa

The Russians have been decimating Ukrainian power infrastructure using suicide drones for the last three months. Despite their best efforts, the pay out has been paltry. This is because Europe is experiencing the warmest winter recorded in the last 100 years. Hence power usage has dropped so dramatically for heating that despite the bombed out infrastructure. The Ukrainians are still able to hobble along quite happily. But this outcome has dark and omnimous implications. Because in spring when Ukrainian farmers begin their seasoning sowing of wheat crops. The Russians will set fire to these fields. My point is to underscore this – the Ukrainian War will evolve into an existential conflict. This by implication can only mean one thing – the Russians have to adopt a scorch earth strategy. They will level everything to rubble……… Tabula Rasa.

Do not whine, complain or indulge in self pity

When bad things happen to you. Do not whine, complain or indulge in self pity. Instead remain silent. To be still is not weakness. To withdraw is not to cower. This is true strenght. As only in stillness can one revel in the moment of hardship. Strive to be one with your unbearable pain, shame and humiliation. Savor it like fine wine. Because lesser men do not get tested like you do. Since they are not shoved and pushed like you. A deadly complacency can only creep into their seemingly safe and uneventful lives…… Theyre actually dead. While you are filled with all the vigor that is life. This is what real men do. When bad things happen. They say to themselves again and again like a prayer……… Amor fati. Amor fati. Amor fati. Amor fati. Amor fati. Amor fati. Amor fati. Amor fati. Amor fati. Amor fati. Amor fati. Amor fati. Amor fati. Amor fati. Amor fati. Amor fati. Amor fati. Amor fati. Amor fati. Amor fati. Amor fati. Amor fati. Amor fati. Amor fati.Amor fati. Amor fati. Amor fati. 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My Greatest Fear

Is not external. It originates deep within my inner being…… To define my greatest fear succintly. It is NOT to have a purpose in life! To paraphrase, if I do not have a mission to accomplish. I would much prefer to die. Life will cease to have meaning. I do not crave comfort or security or even such a thing as a guaranteed future. What I need as a strategic precondition to live is a clear and unambiguous mission.

Only when a man is steeled with a mission (life purpose) can man truly be a man….. Only then will he have the privilege to embrace the philosophy of amor fati completely and absolutely without having to question either its veracity or relevance. Without armor fati man can only be inconsequential!

The never ending story that is FTX

I understand that there are some folk out there who really want this story to go to some dark obscure cave and simply die out. But I don’t think that will ever happen for two reasons, firstly it is the sheer scale of the fraud and secondly its related complications. FTX will be in the news for at least ten to fifteen years.

chicken dish that worth trying

The Panavia Tornado

For me. I wasn’t particularly endeared by either her handling or flight characteristics. She displayed too much rudder authority to be a true and thorough bred dog fighter. As for her swept wing. Overatted. But what she excelled in and even influenced all future jets to absolutely have was her remarkable fly by wire feature.

I eat here once a week

Go there on the same day of the week. Sit on the same table. Order the same food and enjoy it the same like every other time.

When RIP can only mean Rise If Possible!

This is one out of twenty specially commissioned horror short stories that I wrote a while back ago. All the stories were specified to be set in the tiny scenic town of Taiping, Perak in Malaysia. This piece was originally entitled Ramdeep’s Gambit. I enjoyed the piece tremendously as it was during the height of Covid and this gave me alot of stimulation. The kind folk who commissioned me to write it probably did so to prevent me from going insane. I will always be grateful to the St John’s Wood and Holland V and Katong Creme read club for their timely and kind support in my hour of solitary desperation. You see the social isolation of Covid hit me harder than I ever expected and I am thankful for the thoughtfulness that was shown amply to me in my darkest hour.

At the age of sixty five. Ramdeep Singh was well and truly a proverbial dead duck. As the Covid pandemic had mercilessly ravaged his once prosperous textile empire. Even his bankers shook their heads in despair suggesting in no uncertain terms Ramdeep’s troubles were well and truly beyond all hopes of financial redemption. There was really only one option, bankruptcy. But to Ramdeep who was accustomed to living a leisurely life of dissipation that revolved around expensive rounds of golf and the nocturnal delights of his young buxom Bollywood wife half his vintage. The prospects of settling for a modest life without golf or Geetha must surely have been worse than the stigma of being declared a bankrupt. There was however one saving grace which comforted Ramdeep, during the good times he had the foresight to insure himself for a princely sum of twenty million dollars.

Ramdeep would often be heard lamenting to his close friend and confidant George at the bar in the New Club, What a bloody shame that life insurance only pays out when one kicks the bucket! Despite their age difference of nearly twenty years, Ramdeep and George got along so well that they were thick a thieves. So much so, there wasn’t a single secret, scandal or sexual peccadillo that each didn’t know about the another. Ramdeep was especially well acquainted with George’s streak of mischief.

The wiser and worldly Ramdeep even possessed the third eye to see beyond the younger man’s well crafted fascade of wealth and impeccable Oxbridge credentials. He knew George couldn’t have made his fortune as a planter in Africa. And suspected, he was an arms merchant who plied his trade across the war riven continent stretching across the length of Mozambique to Benin. But despite knowing all these unsavoury truths about George, Ramdeep never once held it against his dear friend. Instead he would often be the first to stand up and vouch for his good standing and many a time George’s indiscretions were simply swept under the rug at the behest of Ramdeep’s intervention. During one of their many scandalous drinking sessions in the unearthly hours of the New Club, George had on one occasion even stripped right down to his birthday suit to reveal a bullet wound that he once taken on his buttocks. Ramdeep on his part had reciprocated George’s candor by revealing an unmentionable tattoo on his private part that very scandalous night. There was nothing that each didn’t know about the other…..as they were kindred spirits that compelled both men to be on the level and square with each other. So it came as no surprise to all. When Ramdeep confided to George about his impending financial doom. The younger man had quite impulsively volunteered to mortgage his plantation to help out his dear fiend, but even Ramdeep expressed with an air of futility – ‘No! My dear George, whatever you have kindly offered would just be like a drop in the infinity of the ocean….if only there’s a way for me to die and get reincarnated to claim the insurance pay out of twenty million!….if only my dear George.’

That same evening during the ritual of the third degree in The Light of Hope Lodge in the sleepy town of Taiping. The dusty Eureka light bulb suddenly lit up somewhere in Ramdeep’s head. So much so that both men decided to stay back after dinner. Usually the only reason why they ever stayed back was usually for George to explore ever more inventive ways to pick the lock of the drinks cabinet while Ramdeep distracted the caretaker. But on this occasion. The mood was dead serious. As Ramdeep confided the rough outlines of what even he considered his diabolically genius plan to return from the dead, claim the insurance pay out and assume a new identity to his ever devoted young friend George.

Ramdeep: George, what if I can kick the bucket like that brother this evening in the third degree ritual and come back again to claim the insurance payout!

George: You know that’s quite impossible old boy.

Ramdeep: But what if I could…Will you help me dear George?

George: Of course…. You have my word Ramdeep. (George clicked his heels like a Prussian officer in jest, but noticing his friend was not amused. He suddenly realised, Ramdeep was dead serious.)

Ramdeep: Very well then. Do you remember the story you once recounted about the Legionnaire deserter in Africa who managed to fake his own death and escape the gallows?

George: Yes, that capper happened in Etiophia….Djibouti military prison. Prisoner died. He was given the last rites and buried. A week later his friends dug up the coffin and he just sprung to life like a bunny and escaped a free man with a new identity.

Ramdeep: Black magic was it?

George: Hardly mumbo jumbo zombie black magic claptrap….. closer to science.

Ramdeep: How so George?

George: You see. The secret ingredient of Zombie powder is actually tetradotoxin, produced by powdering the ovaries of the speckled blue puffer fish that is only found off the coast of Mozambique in between the months of June to April. That’s when the waters warm up and they get randy and their ovaries swell up. Zombie powder is so powerful that it’s a thousand times more potent than cyanide. Half a teaspoon on a poisoned tip arrow can bring down a six metric ton fully matured African elephant in less than a minute! In miniscule doses Ramdeep. (As if to emphasise the point. George grabbed the salt shaker and sprinkled some on the table and holding out no more than a pinch comprising of a few granules with his pinky finger before a wide eyed and mesmerized Ramdeep) Zombie powder causes a near-death state in which all bodily functions go into a deep hibernation mode, so that breathing and pulse rate are virtually undetectable. Total paralysis follows, although the brain and senses remain intact. The victim is technically dead.

Ramdeep: And how does one go about reviving this zombie?

George: The coffin is dug up a week latter and the deceased is given the antidote which is two parts atropine and the rest scopolamine and there and then, the dead springs right back to life again…no side effects Ramdeep.

Ramdeep: George, you speak with such conviction..its as if you’ve actually done it. (A pause followed and George sensing that he had been tricked by the older man to reveal more than he should suddenly stood up abruptly, poured himself a large measure of whisky and walked to one of the many French windows lost in his own thoughts. Ramdeep sensing the younger man’s vulnerability pressed on) you’re were that legionnaire who died and came back again weren’t you George?

George: What if I was old boy? No one can prove it…. not even in a court of law!

Ramdeep: Two years ago, when you were totally plastered after an all night boozer in New Club, you went full monty and showed off your bullet wound on your buttocks. I could make out the seven numbers tattooed in your inner left tight. It interested me enough to make enquiries. I gathered only the French Foreign Legion in Africa used that way to identify their soldiers….the French call it the mark of the devil. George. I am not telling you all this to blackmail you. But I need to do what you once pulled off so marvellously to get out from this blasted fix. Will you help me George to come back from the dead?

George: It has to be carried out without arousing any suspicion. Because if there’s even so much of a hint of foul play. The police will be called in and a post mortem will be conducted and the last thing you want Ramdeep is a nosey coroner slicing off your gulis when youre still alive….not to mention the payout from the insurers will be delayed forever.

Ramdeep: This is where my great plan comes in my young apprentice. We will
make it look like a heart attack. In the lodge itself. I will express my intention to be initiated into the third degree. When I take the fall, that’s when I will die allegorical, but in this case, it would be real. There are six physicians and at least the same number of lawyers in our lodge. At least four will be on duty even if the rest are drunk, that should be more than enough witnesses to pronounce me deader than dead without arousing any suspicion of foul play.

The following week. The plan proceeded in earnest. George procured the zombie powder that eventually arrived by post from South Africa secreted ironically in a hard cover spine of an Agatha Christie novella. On Geetha’s insistence, a tincture of the zombie powder was tested out on the family pet, a large 75 kg Alsatian that promptly proceeded to keel over and die with the compliment of four legs sticking up like an over turned table. Only to be pronounced dead by a visiting vet, who himself nearly died from a heart attack when Ramdeep inadvertently clapped and blurted out ‘excellent!’ On the sixth day much to the delight and relief of Ramdeep and Geetha when the antidote was expertly administered by George, the dog sprung back to resume all the fullness of life again. The only fly in the ointment remained Geetha’s lack of enthusiasm to collaborate with George who she never really liked and often discouraged Ramdeep from associating with, her refrain – ‘there’s something about that man that I don’t like!’ Eventually the tiff between Geetha and George was quickly ironed out when the realisation sank in that it would take at least two adults to dig and lug out an XXL Ramdeep in the dead of night from Taiping cemetery. Both George and Geetha trained at the backyard every evening digging, prising open the make shift coffin and lugging out an oversized bag roughly the portly dimensions and weight of a large person while Ramdeep timed and supervised them both with a stopwatch till he was satisfied.

On D-Day. Everything proceeded to cue like a well oiled Swiss machine. During the initiation at the Light of Hope Lodge. At the appointed time. Ramdeep took a whiff of the Zombie powder inconspicuously secreted in a handkerchief. Thereafter he winked at George and proceeded promptly to expire. When it was time to raise him allegorically in accordance with the rites of the third degree. There was no response. By the third attempt. Some of the brethrens had begun to exchange looks of concern. A cardiologist stepped forth to sense Ramdeep’s pulse only to frantically proceed to massage his heart while the rest looked on in shock. Ramdeep was pronounced clinically dead within the hour. Cause of death, cardiac arrest which was witnessed by four physicians. The day after. A wake followed and shortly thereafter the final farewell… a burial.

In the days, weeks and months following the passing of Ramdeep Singh. The wives of the members of the New Club speculated on how they would soon run out of salacious scandals to gossip about. As since these days no members petitioned George for conduct unbecoming of a gentleman. As they so often did in the past for either causing a scene at the Club’s bar. Or hurling obscenities at members when he was drunk. Neither did George post heart attack inducing comments or saucy videos any more in the many whassap forums that he was listed. In fact it was rumored George had given up boozing completely. He had even begun to avoid Jalan Tupai where his fiery two seater roadster was often seen parked outside the Palace of One Thousand Delights. A Cantopop karaoke bar that masqueraded as a high class bordello. It seemed to all the untimely passing of Ramdeep must have had such a profound effect on the sense and sensibilities of George that he must have felt compelled to renounced his wayward ways. These days. The reformed George preferred to chaperone the widowed Geetha for long walks in lake gardens. On weekends they would often be seen hiking and picnicking in Maxwell Hill. In the months that followed. In the cloistered world of the planters. There was even talk of inviting George to join the revered ranks of the elders after he had successfully transplanted a disease resistant oil palm genus from Africa in a plantation located in Trong, Perak. The yield had proven to be so spectacular that it received widespread accolades from even his fiercest critics. It was even rumored on account of his ‘examplary contribution to the oil palm world’, his image would most certainly be immortalised in one of the many stern oil paintings that lined the elegant wood paneled corridors of the exclusive Planters club in Mayfair London depicting the Great Straits and Commonwealth planters of lore the likes of John Dunlop, Henry Ridley, Allagar, Underwood, Lim Nee Soon, Tan Kah Kee, Robert Kuok, Lee Kong Chien et al. The change in George had been so complete and dramatic that on a poolside BBQ held to commemorate the first anniversary of Ramdeep’s passing no one fainted or lost their footing and fell into the pool. When Geetha announced  – their engagement and that she had accepted George’s proposal for matrimony in the hope of everlasting felicity and most importantly in honor of Ramdeep….that same evening. The ladies in New Club would be heard saying to much laughter and merriment that Geetha could hardly refuse a marriage proposal from such a top drawer candidate as George… Not without running the risk of Ramdeep turning and rising from his grave.

Welcome to Singapore Francois

I stay in a district in Singapore that has the highest concentration of French nationals…. Why is this so important. BC my friend Francois has decided to relocate to Asia for work. I know the French headman well, we regularly go cycling, hiking and cook together. Their kids play with mine and my wife joins them for bridge and mahjong regularly. The French community in my area are not stuck up (not if you connect with them!). They are well integrated with the locals (yes there r some ass holes, but that applies to Singaporean ass holes as well) By and large there’s alot of mutual respect and trust and shared interest and this is important BC if Francois is going to stay here long term. He needs a 24/7 supportive Community. Francois is autistic and he has bipolar and regularly suffers panic and anxiety attacks. He needs to be supported, not judged by ignorant folk who think all humans are created from only one mould. Not to worry. My family is just 5 min away and he will feel right at home in Singapore with his new circle of French friends. Besides my district is the only place in Singapore where one can get fresh baguet and pate on the go! Welcome Francois!

Caring is a choice we wholeheartedly choose to make!

Man needs a Mission in life more than he needs oxygen, food or even a woman

When a man has a mission (life purpose). You will have very little difficulty in making out the determination of his gaze, the steadfastness of his voice and the purposefulness of his actions. This is process of primal psychology and what I term hunter biochemistry. The man will not age much, if he’s 60, he will look forty and this is a direct function of how the mind and body relates to the life mission of a man. Understand this! Everything about man. Both psychical and mental attributes are designed for the sole purpose of fulfilling his mission. This is the reason why man don’t have tits and women’s watches are significant smaller than men’s (OK lah maybe I am exaggerating, but you get the point!) Contrary to popular belief, a man’s family does not come first….. It is ALWAYS the mission that commands his absolute dedication and constancy! This is the reason why modern man suffers from a mortal disease of the soul. Since modern man doesn’t have a mission other than to serve the mindless capitalistic manifesto like a monkey trained to pick coconuts, nothing significant can ever be activated in his mind and body and spirit to enhance the living experience. Modern man is infact the truest expression of the living dead! As not having a mission for a man is actually hazardous to his well being. Because without a clearly defined mission what the mind will do is turn against itself by issuing self destruct instructions to sabotage man himself! This is the reason why so many once capable men suddenly die off soon after retirement. Unbeknown to them by living a sedentary life they have inadvertently thrown the self destruct mechanism into motion.

To live well man must have a mission. Understand this! This not optional. Otherwise man will perish!

Cardamon Pasta

Further up beyond the never ending Sahara up along the narrow shoulder of the Nile that crosses into the upper reaches of the diamond encrusted Congo basin, where elephants still amble along the same ancient route slaves once lumbered as they were prepared to be shipped to Zanzibar.

In this god forsaken place where blood diamonds and poached ivory is still widely and openly traded in bazaars – cardamon is so highly prized for its medicinal value it’s considered legal tender – in these parts where even the mighty French Foreign Legion considers out of bounds since it is the equivalent of Raffles place a veritable Mecca for all the troublemakers, warlords, rouge traders in the whole of central Africa – the calming antispasmodic effects of cardamon is believed to be able to do everything and anything under the sun ranging from imparting bullet proof powers to staving off malevolent evil curses and hexes – here cardamon is known by its ancient name Al Heyl – uttered usually by touching the front helm of the shamagh as a sign of reverence for the great herb that all believe without exception was a heavenly plant that was once secreted to earth by a benevolent angel from syurga.

In these parts where it is not unusual for a men to walk around wearing a shouldered holstered revolver and carrying a samsonite briefcase – and to hear intermittent gun shots renting out from time to time, there is a common saying know to all in these parts.

‘Water is important….but not as important as cardamon, as a man without a morsel of cardamomn is like a ship without the sea.’

Ingredients:

– 4 table spoon olive oil
– 250 Grammes ground beef
– 1 rounded table spoon of cardamon powder
– 1 large white onion (diced) separate into two bowls
– 2 garlic sections finely chopped
– 1 rounded table spoon chili bean paste (get the one’s where the chili is dark and you can’t see the beans. You can get it in NTUC)
– 1 teaspoon meat curry powder
– 1 teaspoon ground black pepper.
– 3 or 4 tablespoon Mushroom flavored dark soya sauce (lee kum Kee brand. The original recipe uses fermented dates syrup, but I can’t get it. But this is about 90%)
– salt to taste
– a bit of pickled mango chutney. (I like to add a bit more to create a tangy flavor)

Directions:

Cut half white onion. Fry one half diced with garlic till brown. Add ground beef. Cook 10 minutes, sprinkle cardamon powder evenly. This will remove the gamey smell of beef, stir in chili bean paste. Add dark soya sauce. Sprinkle curry powder. Black pepper, chutney. After cooking for 15 add remainder of other half of diced white onion. Do not overcook second batch onions as you want the texture of the semi cooked onions to be crunchy. Cook for another 10 minutes low flame.

If you like, you the can dress the dish in either chopped cilantro or fresh coriander. I much prefer it plain.

Note : this is a dry dish. Do not add any water. Serve with el dente spaghetti or flat bread. Once you cook it 2 or 3 times, it will only take you 15 minutes tops to whip it up. It’s not heavy like Italian spaghetti, there is no butter, milk or cheese. So it’s very light and I highly recommend this as a evening meal accompanied by either a chianti or robust Pinot.

Medicinal properties: cardamon strengthens the lungs, staves off runny noses. If you are sensitive to dust and often sniff and sneeze. I would seriously recommend this dish as a prescriptive cure. During the haze season. I usually eat this dish at least three times a week.

Women who are nervous, agitated, argumentative and like to find fault should consume this dish religiously during the height of the hot season – alternatively just add 3 pods of dried green cardamon to hot pipping tea.

Children who like to run around like monkeys and have trouble finishing their homework and suffer from a chronic inability to concerntrate should have lemonade with ground sprinklings of cardamon.

Men who experience sexual problems in so far as they run out of breathe during their nocturnal sojourns with their dearly unfortunate other half – should seriously consider consuming my cardamon spaghetti before intimate encounters if they are indeed serious about restoring matrimonial harmony and felicity.

Ministers who regularly face rigorous questioning in Parliament. Or political figures who suffer from a lack of imagination to prosper under the media spot should also consume this dish – as not only will it fortify their constitution and improve their carriage – as consuming my recipe will stave off nervous tic along with other conditions associated with anxiety such as stammering, babbling, mumbling along with mitigating butterflies in the stomach and involuntary body movements such as farting and distracting shaking of body parts.

Super serious boots

Today I went down to Jurong East and got myself a pair of mighty serious boots from Timberland. These are very serious boots….. Got it at 50% sale. For wet days in the plantation.

The Hunter

I don’t know a single test pilot or aerospace engineer or aircraft technician who doesn’t regard the Hawker Hunter with a sobriquet term of endearment. No jet aircraft was so universally loved on so many levels by so many as the Hawker Hunter. To pilots the Hunter conjured the warmth of a sweetheart. For engineers, they appreciated her quiet yet strong temprament and for mechanics, she was always a ‘Goer.’ The best version of the Hunter was probably the F.6, powered by a Rolls-Royce Avon 207 turbojet that produced some 10,145 lb of thrust. The Hunter wasn’t very fast, neither was she a particularly agile dog fighter either, but she was very predictable and responsive and her solid platform could accommodate plenty of roles that allowed her to evolve with the changing times. When she first entered service in the 60s, the Hunter was a front line gun interceptor. Later in the 70s, when supersonic jets entered the fray. She was repurposed as a low attitude bomber right into the eighties when she was retrofitted with air to air and air to surface missiles.

The Art of Growing Older

Once you hit a certain mileage in life. Things that once worked well will begin to go on the blink. These are my new progressive glasses, they’re supposed to correct my lao hua (老花眼) or presbyopia. They’re uncomfortable and a tad strange, but if I am going to see clearly. I need to put up with them till they become a regular part of my life. I am two minded abt growing old. On one hand I gather practical life wisdom like – you should always remember a girls birthday, but be forgetful abt her age. Or if you don’t want to be confrontational just pretend to be deaf or better still dumb. Better still to just be invisible! But there’s also some things that I find difficult abt ageing as well. For instance it harder to me these days to keep to my ideal weight. I need to work much harder at the threadmill. But sometimes I live dangerously by indulging in char kueh teow (obesity inducing fried noodles) Another is things that I once took for granted don’t ever stay the same…. If you don’t use them like muscles they just go away. If there’s such a thing as one wisdom to rule them all on the subject of growing older, it’s probably this – To stay in the same spot one needs to work at it. Here’s a pic of me living dangerously with parasitic sushi 🙂

The Disturbing War

Putin started the Russian special operations in Ukraine under the assumption that everything would go according to plan. Now he’s in a hole with no prospects of even a sensible exit strategy out of the Ukraine. Under those circumstances Putin has no choice but to double down. But now that the Ukrainians are vying to get F-16s, this is going to transform everything. From. This point onwards, its no longer a matter of how well Putin plays the game any longer. As much as how the game plays him! What many fail time and again to appreciate is war is essentially a highly complex game of possibilities and constraints (nothing more or less) but under certain conditions, it is theoretically possible to lose both command and control to such an extent that one might even be considered insane to talk about desires, wants or for that matter intent in the context of shaping the final outcome. Because once this end point is breached. The game that we term war will have accumulated so much reserve momentum that it can really only go on and on and on. And even should one or both sides choose to stop it. The game or war will just go right on. The Russian planners r not dumb. The Ukrainians may not even realise this BC their planners are so beholden to NATO and US planners to plan the next strategic move. Given this is the case, the Russians will throw everything they have into the spring offensive……… come April and May. All hell will break lose!

Brexit was a lie from the word go!

Whats really sad abt all this is it took so long for the truth to step right out into the light. Despite the bleak economic prognosis, the real tragedy of Brexit is yet to unfold……. As the UK economy is so fucked that even if she wants to rejoin the EU……… She is already be so damaged that no one in their right mind will have her.

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The lies little men tell themselves regularly

Some men will insist to their very last breathe. They are devoted, loyal and fedile to their chosen life partner. But one needs to be thoughtful when considering such statements. Simply because. The reality is often otherwise – its not that they don’t ever want it. Rather it’s the sad story of they don’t ever get an opportunity to fool around and the reason boils down to one singular immovable and non negotiable reality – no woman in their right mind wants to (fill in the blanks) them! Given that this is a fact from my observation. One can really only believe a man is truly devoted, loyal and fedile, if he is attractive to women…..yet despite having the benefit of plenty of opportunities, he still turns them down. Suffice to say, this is really a very different kettle of man…….. Regrettably it deserves a dedicated article to flesh out the salient.

Knowing the lies men tell themselves is jugular. BC it gives one the power of insight into how people seek refuge in lies instead of the truth.