Tie the rope for the one to be the one to get it. It should be about the length of the rope to kill you. It should be about the way to get you into the reet weet game called the Masonic Foundation of God here in Bath. It should be able to get you in but it may not get you out again and that means it could be a shit-shape move to make.
But it is and now it isn’t so we begin to see the shape of the thing that has been haunting us the past ten or so years. The label of “Domestic Extremist” and thereby the new one called the End of the Nigh as such I shall be the one who breaks through and makes it score with the police department who must surely pity me now that I have done so much for other people and yet it couldn’t be enough could it?
They have to label me an extremist because of one march and now I am marked for life it seems as I am forever having intrusions in my rooms and there is no doubt that it is felonious in Nature if not by deceit then by design as it harasses me and makes it known to me that my private space is not private nor my own anymore as it was if ever.
There was a time when all and sundry could get away with it but now it seems that nothing is sacred anymore, no irreverence, no impecunious virtue, nor any more than the rest, the need for the Bank of England to open its doors and let someone with a bit of knowledge about the Theatre they are in, in. It isn’t the first time I have given the slip to the cops but it is the first that has ever reached these proportions as I go from country to country amassing a file of disrepentant distrust and dismissal of all authority and yet I do not get punished.
There once was a torture victim who had a few too many to drink and he asked for the bill and they said: What, you want us to have a whip round? Ha! Anyway, that was good now let’s see….
Oh yes! What does the man in the telly see when he looks at the camera but…? A new thing about himself called Love and yet he doesn’t know how so he goes to a therapist and there he finds out that he cannot be on telly because he is a poor image to be presented to the public of the life of the British academician who does not cope with the trial of co-incidenting with them on any matters that do not pertain to study. It does not make for good television to show the dissent in the rank of the unemployedment of the student population namely the lecturer union and its now representative Bruce E S and the rest of the hell of alot can go get stuffed for their way of forgetting that it is all true and I need a friend to see this namely Gary. Gary R. where are you my friend and now tell the truth, you and Fran B were all there were you not, at Broederstroom?
Yes, B, I was, and I tell you that many people wish they had been as you did and I when I invited you, did I not?
I wish I had taken their names but….
I did, said Gary, proud. Vusi and Kela nZoko of the Tswana East Regiment of the Eastern Transvaal and their leader was Chris Hani.
No kidding I say, what is it about the one who does the little and the one who does the most that makes it so trivial to everyone else but so true and different for you and me? I wish I could all of a sudden bring back the people who have lost lives and then bring on the real King, the King of the Godly world who could then give a Sainthood to those who didn’t see it when they could but now can, that life is about the one who makes it through the Hell and into the still waters of Life when all is too good to be true. Then it is an ease of things to get all the ones who open the door to get them all in and get them all out of it too (the Doors of Learning) and then to be all the more open to change and review through the development of a sensory board that does the measuring of the temperature of the staff with the current system.
It tells one a lot about the story of our life and our sorrow that we remember the name of Chris Hani with such reverence and just take out your thumb for you may lose it in the crash if you don’t it will stay therefore the rest of your born days if you continue to seek out the rest of the plan. This is your commando speaking and you must stop now. He-he!
Copyright 2016 Bruce E Saunders