Robin A Spicer, click
here to update your pages on AuthorsDen!
Blogs by Robin A Spicer
Membership and assorted thoughts 3/31/2004 4:43:09 AM
Renewal? Would dearly love to know what is going on.
I pay'd Membership in August 2003 and again for my wife later in the year. The enticement being that If pay'd within a certain time, We would recieve a lifetime membership. Sounds Okay so far.
Yesterday I open up the page to find that i am supposed to have expired in July 2003, a month prior to my joining.
I have sent a message suggesting that, as I am yet still alive, my Lifetime membership should not have, as yet, expired.
Ah well, the vagiaries of life do tend to confuse at times.
Seems there is a war going on down the road. Some of the local members of the indiginous community, rather inebriated of course, are fighting over somebody's shirt. Considering that it is 11pm, I do consider that the noise is most inconsiderate. Eventualy they will all drink themselves into a stupor, as they always do, and wake up as mates in the morning.
Tomorrow night they can start over again.
As a means of prying oneself and ones spouse away from the Computers, decided to join a ten pin bowling league.
Big Mistake. I have not bowled for around 25 years, did not realise that what I did 25 years ago, would not nescessarily happen 25 years later.
Result, I have damaged my knee to the point where it is now not repairable. Maybe able to get another transplant, but it might not take. If it doesn't then that would mean amputation. Not something that I would consider as a viable alternative. My pension would be able to finance converting my Motorcyle into a three wheeler. So they can forget it.
For some reason I have not been in much of a mood to write lately. It's not that I do not want to, more like not feeling motivated. I write what I see and feel, or about what I have seen in my life.
I suppose with my painkillers I just feel comfortably numb, and I am not going to trust what I see.
On the other hand, I become disheartened by what I write. I mean, how much can one write, about this society in which we live, without feeling somewhat immune?
And, as I often ask myself, Does anyone realy care, or are they just pretending to care?
I fear the frailties of Humanity have become passe' in the collective psyche', mere background noise against the Plastic society.
The beggar on the street is as small prey, in a Forrest of predators.
They have had the meat of their existence stripped from them by the greedy self centred majority, who having stripped them of assets and dignity, leave them as flotsam on a wind ravaged beach, to be picked over by the carrion.
The so called Charities that take even the least of their pensions, in return for a promise of a salvation that does not exist. They promise to restore their self respect and dignity. "But please pay at the door, so i can satisy my sense of false altruism."
Reminds me of a song, "Buying a Stairway to Heaven".
Little wonder that the poor of this world prefer to drown themselves in an alchoholis state of anesthesia.
Now I am being cynical. But what I see is, what I see, I cannot ignore the truth. But then it sometimes can be difficult to choose between seeing a beggar, and seeing a young smiling Maiden, or a shiny new car.
I wonder, Is the sound of the bustling crowd, really louder than the cries of the dispossesed?
