Apologies for being ‘gone’ so long. Sooooo much going on!

The gross weight of human beings on the planet is a staggering figure, far into the billions of tons. Add to that the weight of vehicles, homes, places of business, etc., and poor Earth must definitely be feeling the strain.
Humanity also strains these days to cope with the colossal weight of self-imposed but collapsing socio-economic structures worldwide. The great pillars of society, the State, Bureaucracy, Church and the public values and sentiments as presented daily by the Media, have become out of date, sluggish, and weighed down by ideas and beliefs that are seriously irrelevant.
The opposite of weight is buoyancy, lightsomeness, and when it comes to the thoughts that currently possess the human mind, there must also be clarity.

What is becoming startlingly clear is there has to be global governance; for the concerns of individual national states are often contradictory, narrow-minded, caught up in the party-political see-saw, meddling, aggressive and downright phobic. To mention but a few deficiencies.

The need to protect the planet from excess and stupidity has come upon us very fast, and what we are discovering is there is little time left to put matters right, and definitely no time to invest in what is not working.
Global governance that deals with issues that affect the planet, and all those who inhabit the surface, on land and sea, must rise out of a willingness to rethink, re-evaluate and restructure every aspect of human life on Earth, without reference to that which is outdated and dead.



Hers was not to reason why; Cora would happily do her bit and show Him her unwavering faith and devotion in the way she knew best. She’d raise the roof and crack the rafters before Cataclysm did. Divine music, delivered up to her Maker along a stream of flying notes, would drown out the fury of the storm, and what better piece to start with than an organ anthem by J.S.Bach.
It had galled Cora no end that the parson and the congregation were stone deaf to music that didn’t relate to the service and the strictures of their belief. On Sundays and mid-week prayer sessions, patient pessimism best described Cora’s faith, for the glorious hallelujahs were never heard, the thundering trumpet voluntaries held silent, the sounding brass muted, the organ pipes castrated, choked off before their time and in their prime. So constrained in performance were they, that a mouse could barely hear them from the close proximity of the church skirting boards. It wouldn’t be like that today, she’d play those pieces as she’d always wanted to do. [Read more…]

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