Brian Robert Pearce
Brian Pearce busked the streets and bars of Europe between the years 1994 and 2000. In addition he busked in New York while participating in the TIGHTROPE musical, a play written by Ken Post [ with Bonnie Burns].
The journal exists, at present, as approx. 750,000 hand written words formatted in about 55 segments.


Complex People

Why are people so complex?
Read and enjoy.
Rome remonstration
Zolar 2
The tale of Uptown Suzy
The Societies within me
The Missing Link?

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Rome remonstration
Rome remonstration
Zolar 2
The tale of Uptown Suzy
The Societies within me
The Missing Link?

Early August - 1998 - Bern, Switzerland (an excerpt from the diaries of Brian Pearce

Now it's half six and I sit in the Manora in Bern. MJ, Danny and Tina are on their way back to
Antwerp and they should be north of Basle....into France by now. There is a strange conflict of identity within me as the social structure efforts of the past weeks led to the immense reward of a free excursion to Rome. Such an action was MJ's wish..and I knew this...alongside the unspoken expectation of good energy he sought to enjoy his holiday. At times, it seemed Tina didn't appreciate the beauty of MJ's gesture toward us on this holiday, until Thursday night exploded into bad tempers within the circle of Sylvano, MJ and Tina. The setting for the conflict was a square that, in ancient times, was the stage for Roman chariot races. Today, it is a place for terraces and hanging out.
After feasting on Pizza
and wine on a terrace restaurant in Tresatavori we promenaded, after midnight, past some of the architectural wonders of Rome. Then came the fracas as we seated ourselves on a terrace in the chariot square. It was a long wait, until Sylvano lost patience and asked the waiter for service. The waiter, a shade irritable after no doubt a long hot night's work, appeared to lack in politeness informing Sylvano the place had closed.Sylvano's Latin blood fired, and he argued with the waiter to the point of standing up and squaring up to him. This made MJ annoyed and he got up and left for the next terrace. The entourage followed, with Sylvano seeking to justify his anger to MJ, who was not in the least wanting to discuss it.      
A waiter on the next terrace moved a chair,
probably accidentally, against Tina's leg. Sylvano, with an anti-waiter mood in full flow, rounded on this waiter. The waiter responded angrily back...and the argument was dispersed by the other waiters and manager.
We had our drinks, but the half of the table
that represented Danny, Raquel, the twins and I sat passively listening to Sylvano justifying his new source of anger, while MJ was urging him, with annoyance, to drop the whole thing. Tina, disturbed by the energy of the argument, sought to change the subject by asking MJ who were the minorities of Italy.
MJ, exasperated by Sylvano, responded to Tina with a joke. Tina lacked
 the ability to appreciate this because she evidently wanted a serious, weighted answer. So her moody response to the joke was met ny an angered response from MJ. He complained about the difficulty of seeking to interpret so many languages since the holiday began. The message, basically, was that Sylvano's verbal diahorrea was enough without ' trying to think of how many Iranians there were in Italy.'                                                                      
In addition, he was at
 breaking point with Tina's constant down energy about 'this' or 'that.'

Tina, always ready to
take umbrage at MJ, naturally took umbrage at MJ and came to sit on the passive side of the table. She rebutted any conciliatory efforts by MJ, saying he was drunk and that it was pointless talking to him until the morning. The agitated entourage made to leave eventually. But as we were going the waiter was, naturally, waiting to re-convene his argument with Sylvano.......Sylvano was only too happy to oblige and very soon it was heated enough to threaten violence.                    
Not understanding too much of what it was all about I stood close by Sylvano...alert for escalation
of thuings. The waiters were busy restraining, or pulling away, the angry waiter. But neither party were willing to surrender the final word.                                 
Then, curiously, I had the sudden
awareness of having my guitar on my back..and that if I was drawn into fracas it might get broken. It was the same instinct as the one I had when two muggers were about to make a violent move on me back in December,95 [Antwerp.] At that time it was a CS Gas attack. This time it was the waiter flinging a punch at Sylvano. The punch was hard, but more side...backhand...maybe more a slap. But Sylvano has a solid neck and head. He didn't even flinch.
It could have been war, because a counter-attack by
Sylvano or an interception by MJ, Danny or me may have meant the waiters would cease their neutrality and defend their own.                                         

 Instead, it was Tina, like a tigress,
throwing herself at the waiter and forcing him against a wall. The waiter was probably cowed by this, because his sense of macho confronting Sylvano's sense of macho had been
neutralised....and he was faced by a tigress. Any attempt to injure her would probably bring everyone down on him.             
The whole thing was reduced to Sylvano and the waiter seeking
the last word, but from a distance, as the waiters took full control of their over re-acting work mate. But Sylvano continued to want to go back and 'have it out' until MJ , in an explosion of anger he has never been led to, turned round and screamed, "Tu! TU!...ALTI..! "           
This drew people
from all over the square to look curiously at this modern gladiatorial verbal duel. Sylvano argued back. He would probably have argued with himself if he stumbled across a mirror. MJ stormed back to his car... in open schism with Sylvano. Reaching his car MJ got in and locked the doors, saying, "I am letting NO ONE in here!"
" I don't care who you let in the car," I
exclaimed, " But you must not drive! You've drunk too much!"                                                                   
This sank in and he handed the keys to Danny, "See? Danny has the keys! I can not

conflicts represented by Sylvano and Tina took the other car back. Eventually, the passive adult contingent of Danny and I joined MJ in his car, and Raquel drove the car back to the appartment in the suburbs. Once there, MJ and Sylvano hugged and made their peace.  MJ and I sat up in the kitchen into the early hours, imbibing beer and talking through the whole thing.
"I want
a holiday," complained MJ, "It is my wish to take both you and Tina down here to Rome. I don't ask for much! Only that people will be nice to me. But Tina..... I give her this, I give her that...but she gives nothing back."                                                                                                        
Sadly, that seems often true. The material energy offered by MJ has often been met by a negative
stream of energy-almost inadvertently by Tina. She would say negative things about the trip, about excursions, about places and people in a way that deflates the energy of others.It must sound accusatory to MJ. I equally have annoyances regarding her. But things can remain neutral...or they can be healthily catalysed. Tina does this very well...healthy or otherwise. But the true reward for MJ, Tina and myself is the release of energy within the soul.

Labyrinth Busker journal
Zolar 2
Belief - Heaven - Zolar - Astral - The Wall
Creativity 2

A new song is written in 1998, and as the journal analyses its textual message it drifts to a remarkable conclusion that could comprehensively explain our actions and unveil the reason why shared belief is so avidly sought. 

 Excerpt from Labyrinth Busker Journal (written over the period 1994-2000):

09/03/98 - Mon - Berne (Switzerland) - If a song doesn't take shape quickly, it usually follows the song isn't worth persevering with... because the end result will reflect the forced nature of the creation. All afternoon, I sought to shape "The Wall" with a chorus ready settled. But nothing else would bite. No chord sequence appealed. No melody stuck.
In the end, I stuck to a simple idea (at least, so far) of transposing the chorus sequence for the verses with an ad-libbing melody seeking to highlight the cynicism of the song. Perhaps there is a background influence of the 'Doors', with maybe a little Dylan, in the method of vocal delivery.
The words reflect the mundane existence of living without any intensity of emotional stimulation. From the highs and lows of passion to the level drabness of what might be considered as a sensible balance. With such a thing the mind takes over... and the soul (bored) goes to sleep.
As people are growing increasingly isolated from each other in direct interaction within modern society (it is in the interests of commercial and media third parties that this should happen) they are left to seek artificial stimulation by plugging into other people's doings (local, national or worldwide).
Thus they become impassioned with indignance, sorrow or joy through the media. For example: the results of your favourite football team matter more intensely.
But through all of this artificial, non-interactive stimulation the underlying feature is helplessness to make any difference. Simply relief when someone says, or does, something we want - and frustration when someone says, or does, something we don't want.

But when we feel love and ACTIVELY ride the roller coaster of experience, our lives take on a key significance. Each failed affair, however, makes the next one a little harder to believe. It doesn't mean you wouldn't try, but the cynic inside is less easily fooled.
Gerhard told me, "We all have our systems for living."
Most people discover a system that works within their lives. That is fine..... but dangerous and irresponsible to then insist their system is workable for all.
Every situation has its own story. So whatever issue that comes to the fore (eg. divorce, abortion, corporal punishment, smoking, equality etc... etc) should be freely discussed, but if you find yourself too firmly entrenched in the 'right wing' or 'left wing' school of thought I would recommend a double check inside yourself.....
Moralistic zealots (social, political, religious) seek to convert the unenlightened....
Quite often, it is because there is personal or economic gain to be had, or the acquisition of increased power for your 'beloved' (your cause or belief). Sometimes, it is because of narrow existence.
The desire could also arise through harrowing experience, in which case the 'beloved' acts as a defensive wall.
But the aim of a Christian zealot (example) would assumedly be to turn the world Christian. Does he believe (truly) the world will be saved should this aim come to pass? Virtually everyone in Northern Ireland is Christian.
In the esoteric 'world' of Zolar it was claimed that the Astral plane contained several layers (levels) - and that souls, after death, will eventually ascend to the level where their beliefs become true. What they expected to see is what they see (in essence).
Thus, there is a Heaven for Christians, another for Muslims, another for Jews... and a Heaven for each different variant (Catholic, Shia, etc.)
As for beliefs that are given little credence these days (eg. Roman Gods, Valhalla, Mithras, etc)... these Heavens are now very much depopulated. Almost no one believes in them anymore.

If the self conscious were perfect there would be no need of religion or social, political morals.... because, being perfect, everything we do will be perfectly correct.
But we're not perfect.
So we need our systems and beliefs to guide us. But, without love (and its by-product emotions), we would not even need a personal code of moral behaviour. We wouldn't care about anyone, or anything, other than ourselves. In a sense, we would be perfect..... because we would do everything predictably, including 'becoming extinct' after 'Adam and Eve' died.
The imperfection that sees humans prosper is love, with all its unpredictable 'emotional side-effects'... positive or negative. Even 'Hate' can be beneficial.
People had to hate the idea of slavery to be motivated toward abolishing it.
And there is the answer....
It is 'Love', or its side effects, that demands a pressing urgency to have everyone believe moralistically the same as you.

Rome remonstration
Zolar 2
The tale of Uptown Suzy
The Societies within me
The Missing Link?
The Tale of Uptown Suzy

An electric year for the Labyrinth, yet sketchily documented. All that remains of a powerful, emotion-charged year for Brian is the randomly scrambled cache, through lyrics or narrative.

The tale of Uptown Suzy

Early June, 1995 - Antwerp - When I got back to England (from Ireland) I had to get up to London 3 times before I could get my passport... and then, only a temporary one because they said they had to do checks (which took about 3 weeks). So, as I said I needed one urgently they gave me a 6 month passport (a full one)... but to get the remaining nine and a half years I would have to take it to the Consul in Antwerp. I earmarked November for doing that.
When I returned to Antwerp I discovered that Char had fallen to pieces the very next day after I had left for Ireland (to see my 4 and a half year old daughter). Ruana was tied up with her exams... and I was away.
Back in Antwerp and I left a note by her apartment buzzer, and a while later she came and found me.
She had ended up in hospital and couldn't remember why.... and she would tell me me very little because, she said, "It would make me emotional."
Friends told me she'd been going around asking, "Have you seen Brian?" the Saturday before my return. I had said I wanted to be back by then, but that blasted passport meant I had to stay the weekend in England at my brother's.
Over the next three or four days she pulled herself together, but she had the 'shakes' quite obviously.
Meanwhile, the weather was terrible... and the ten days away without being able to work, plus a very expensive phone bill, plus what I owed before leaving for Ireland... left me about £200 in debt to the household. By the end of the first week back however, Jena had got the job of renovating the new Musiekdoos premises. She wanted an extra hand to help her and she asked me. I jumped at the chance. So, together, we started to straighten out the new premises... painting, stripping, cleaning etc.. It was about £4+ an hour and I thought it would be a way of clearing my debts.
Soon, we were needing an extra hand. Char was in financial difficulty. So I arranged for her to come and help also. Everything seemed to come together perfectly.... but (at the same time) I tried to keep Char as close by as possible....
But that was so tiring. After 2 or 3 days I just had to have an early night.
The next day, she didn't come into work until mid-day. Fortunately, I was the only person working that morning....
"Where were you last night?" she asked.
Well... I had said to her I was likely to stay in, but she's not too good on remembering details.
So, she explained, "I'd gone down to the Elephant... and Bennie was there - and we'd gone out to the night shop and well...... I leave the rest to your imagination.... I'm sorry!"
I sat down on a stool, and said, "Well... are you two going out?"
"I don't know!" she answered, confused.
"Well... I said you needed you want me to stay out of the way for awhile?"
I stood up and walked partway across the room. She looked up from where she was sitting on a bar stool...
"Please give me a hug!" she said, imploringly.
Without hesitation, I marched over to give her the sort of hug only love can bring....
"I was hoping it wouldn't be so quick, I suppose," I informed her, "But whatever... what we are to each other is more than mere boyfriend and girlfriend.... well, I hope so. That's why we need to find out! In a year, maybe two, we will find out what we are... what we should be to each other. Meanwhile... please give me a hug!"
And so we hugged once more.
"Do you still want to go to the cinema and the gig tonight with me? I asked.
"Of course!"

When I called at her place, she wasn't there. I tried a little later... she wasn't there.
Now I was angry. I could take one thing in a day, not two things.
The next day, she didn't come to work. Three things!!!
I felt bad, because I had especially asked Jena for Char to come and work with us, while friends were all clamouring to get in on the job. By the end of the day I was in a black mood. I told myself I had reached my limit with Char....
About five she arrived. I ignored her.
She spoke to Jena and Etienne, the bar owner... "Probably after her money," I thought, "Let her pick it up and go! I'll just ignore her."
But she came over to me, and spoke.... asking if I was ok. I was abrupt with my answers, because I'd already resolved to tell her to get out of my life.
The thought of saying that to her is one thing... when she's not there. But I couldn't say such a thing when faced with her. It would be like telling my left hand to go away.
I fumed with impotent rage, and just held silence on this resolution. When I answered her questions, it was virtually through my teeth. It was pointless to carry on working....
I said, "I am leaving now,"
"Do you want to come for a drink?" countered Char.
There was real courage in the way that she persisted with me, despite my obvious anger. But there was something, even through that anger, that I could feel coming from her: real love.
On the walk to Molly's we walked in silence. I walked one step ahead and she followed... and I loved her all the more for that. I really mattered to her. In Molly's, I went to the remotest table and sat down. Char went to the bar to get the drinks. She came and sat down, knowing... I guess... as, in tears of grief and twitching anger, I began my tirade. With a wonderful patience, she explained what had gone wrong the night before.
My tirade soon turned into philosophy about our puzzling bond, which was (and is) so strong, yet so unresolved....
"Do you want to hurt me?" I'd asked.
"No!" she replied.
At another point I told her how I was even looking for sex from 'groupies' the previous night...
"It doesn't satisfy,"she calmly noted.
[Ouch!!!] - She was telling me not to do what I had tried so hard to get her not to do. That's why I was so pleased I was the first to make love to her in this respect. It was 'love', not 'sex'.
"Know I am always there for you," said Char, emphatically.
"Are you?" I asked, cynically.
"Well..." she flustered.
I know what she really meant and what she was saying.... because she was (and is)... and always will be there - wherever and whatever we are.
As the conversation lightened she looked more and more into my eyes - and my eyes met her all the way. Amidst this exhilaration, it felt as though her soul wanted to be sure of mine. Her soul was silently asking me questions. It puzzled me a bit at the time, but then I didn't know.... she was saving up the biggest treat.....
"Come and visit me tomorrow night," she requested.
I did.

Who was there? Yes, Bennie. The three of us sat uncomfortably in her room. Bennie and I talked a little. Char sat on her chair like a queen; a sort of arrogant pose. Bennie was a friend of mine, but I resented his presence. I wanted to talk with Char alone.
She asked if I'd play a song, so I started one...
"Oh, why don't you play something cheerful!?!" Char snapped.
The queen was not amused....
In all the time I'd known Char she had never criticised my choice of music. I resented her manner and felt uncomfortable with the whole atmosphere.
Bennie then suggested we go to the Musiekdoos for a drink. Fine! Get out of the room! We went outside and along the Oude Koorn.... just briefly, Bennie put his arm around Char... and I saw red...
It's one thing to tell Char she needs boyfriends; it's another thing to see it.
Some other guy joined us and started to talk to Bennie. Char slowed down until she was walking with me...
"Are you and Bennie all lovey dovey?" I asked in an even voice.
"Ah! We're just going for a drink!" she replied, dismissively.
"Yeah, I know! But are you and Bennie going out with each other?"
"Erm... I don't know..." she replied, uncomfortably, "I think so."
"Then I'm not going to the Doos!" I asserted.
She re-acted in full shock.
"Why not?!?" She danced in agitation, as if to say [how can I ever please this guy?]
A strange response.
"I said you needed boyfriends! I don't have to see it!!!" I blurted out angrily. My jealousy had taken me over. Both of her hands came to her face... she shook her head and retreated into a shop alcove, leaning against a window in nervous distress. It was obvious she loved me by her re-actions... and I loved her so much.... but the hurt of the previous two days were cutting me alongside the thought that I would lose Char so quickly and well... the sheer jealousy.
Then I even started thinking of my own vanity. I can't forgive myself that! But so many people knew about Char and me. The loss of face I'd have felt walking into the Doos with Char and Bennie... and then seeing Bennie cuddling up to Char.... would have been too much.
My image had been of Char having one or two anonymous, and innocuous, boyfriends - not one of my friends. My whole strategy with Char was to achieve everything quietly. Now the whole of Antwerp seemed to know.....
But I loved her! I went to her. She was shaking in shock, her hands held to her face still. I took her hands, regained control, and said, "It's all right! You need this!"... my eyes went cryptic.... "I'll see you again... one day."
Then, probably, we hugged... and she started onward to the Doos. But, briefly, she turned back, saying, "I'll call you!"
Maybe the cynic within me said, "Sure you will!", but the soul was grateful for the words... even though she wouldn't call: that's not her way (at least with phones). She 'called' me (telepathically) a few hours later, and it was one of the sweetest 'calls' I've ever had, but it had nothing to do with phones.
Char left for the Doos, while I wandered into bars and streets looking for some life... something to take away the sheer panic and grief and pain eating me up.... [I didn't mean it, Char! I take it back!!! Tomorrow I'm going to say I was wrong! I'm going to say forget about boyfriends!!!!]
But then I thought... [well! The die is cast. Now it is fingers crossed and hope I've got everything right.]
And then I'd think... [but what if she has a jealous boyfriend? I may never be able to see her! That can't be right! I love her too much not to see her!!! .... The DIE IS CAST, fingers crossed... the plan is in motion.... I love you, Char - I may lose you forever if I'm wrong!!! I'm so jealous.... so jealous...I've never felt as jealous in all my life! Char is MINE!!! Tomorrow, I'll see her! We'll talk this out.]
After a couple of hours of agitated restlessness, not even able to go to my local bar (the Doos) and meet my friends... because they were in there... I wandered home and lay on my bed - and tears found their way through. I was so distressed, and then... 7 or 8 in the morning... she 'called', sweeping my body with reassurance... "trust me".... "always there". For a long time I felt her, and then I slept peacefully.

Once awake, I got up and downstairs for coffee... "Hi Jena".... and all that...
"I saw Char down the Doos last night," said Jena.
"Yeah! I suppose there's a story."
"Indeed! She said she was off to Spain 7 o'clock this morning....."
My face probably went white. I refused to believe it!
"... I can't blame her! She's only 20; she'll enjoy herself!"
"Did she say when she'll come back?" I put in, hopefully.
"Oh, I'm sure she'll be back by November.... when the weather changes. People always are."
"I'm gonna phone Ruana!" I said, sickened. It was fortunate Ruana had given me her number just before I left for Ireland... in case I got trapped and couldn't get back. Did Ruana know? I hoped not, because then I wouldn't feel that I was the specific target.
"Hello Ruana? .... erm...Jena just told me Char is off to Spain. Do you know anything about this?"
"Yes, Brian... she's only going for 3 or 4 weeks. Don't worry, she'll be all right..."
Ruana knew.... I was thinking, "Don't worry, she'll be all right? What the shite is that in Flemish? Get the hell out of her cloud?"
Ruana had become very silent and I was reading this re-action as that of "Why are you bothering me about this? We've had our joke on you; now clear off!"
My grief-stricken soul reduced my voice to a croak, as I said, "I see....." .... still silence from Ruana - and then I trawled out, "....Bye, Ruana." just before dazedly placing the phone down.
So it seemed like collusion. It seemed the 'family' had rejected me and done everything they could to discredit me in Antwerp. That is how it seemed.
I felt myself slowly dying inside and just wishing it would be faster. I don't actually know if it's possible to direct your entire will and energy into stopping your heart from working - probably not, because I tried.... and I tried very hard.
Such intensity of loss within the soul. Well, yes, I was so far away from Rachel, my daughter, but that was something beyond our present power and will. We both wanted and loved each other.
But Char was like a spiritual 'daughter', even a 'mother', in terms of emotional linkage.  It was so important that I had worked out those emotional linkage patterns between us. At least that way I was able to recognise the sheer contradiction that raged within me, forming a life threatening soul sickness. What could have been an impossible thing to comprehend was made sketchily understandable by those role linkages.
The Father said, "She needs this! It will do her good. It will make her stronger." The Father even smiled at the idea of his daughter "taking a big step forward; sorting out her life."
But the Son?
The Son followed the Father's plan, because it was the most promising way of "always having Mother around"
So, Char leaving for Spain without a physical word or letter? Just leaving as though I didn't exist?
The emotional re-action to that is awesomely powerful. It bites at the soul... and the soul refuses to co-operate in helping the mind keep the organic computer (that we all are) functioning.
When I walked anywhere (over the next day or so), I walked with my hand trying to stench the blood from a wound in my chest. I was partly doubled over, as though someone had landed a fist in my stomach. At times it was worse than that, because it felt as though someone had used that fist to enter my body and pull out a part of my soul.
In retrospect, it was an important experience, because through it I came to appreciate the severe emotional damage a child may feel if a parent should reject them - or if they feel rejected. Now I really understood Char's re-action to her mother's emotional rejection when she was 15 - about the dangers of this within Rachel - and the mysterious collapse of Char when I left for Ireland.
Char really did believe I was likely to reconcile my marriage and not come back. She wanted her adoptive 'parents', Ruana and I... and we weren't there. But she kept in there until the Saturday that I'd said I had wanted to be back by. I didn't get back, because of that blasted passport.
So she just OD'ed and ended up in hospital - and Bennie, no doubt, was the one who found her in that condition.... and (who knows?)... maybe saved her life.

When I'd come back from England it was Monday morning, after overnight travel. I took my time settling back into Antwerp. It was not until the early evening of the next day that I finally went into town to call on Char. No answer.
Tried later. No answer.
I didn't panic. I'd catch up with her. But then the Tarot indicated something bad may have happened...
Then I worried.
The next day I made sure I was up early to catch her before she went out, and wrote a note to leave if I did miss her. So we arrive back to the beginning of this epistle....

Rome remonstration
Zolar 2
The tale of Uptown Suzy
The Societies within me
The Missing Link?
The Societies Within Me

Part One - The relevance of Antigone to 'Black Sheep' values

It is 1999 - and the journal responds to two different inputs ( from a friend, and from a news article in the Guardian on
a courageous professor and his students in Iran) and applies the mechanism of 'White sheep/Black sheep' onto the

01/11/1999 - Antwerp, Belgium - .....It is curious that Evi and Gill have both outlined to me their personal perception of
their present persona.
Evi told me the story of Antigone, and how this persona (and her actions) appealed to Evi's present view of herself.

Antigone seems to be absent from the 'Mythic Tarot' book, and this surprises me... because Antigone doesn't seem
unfamiliar to me. The story itself is a wonderful outline of the 'White sheep' world... and the paradox and confusion the
'Black sheep' instill on it.
Without the 'Black sheep' the 'White sheep' world would be completely ordered, and (unchallenged) its unbending laws
would become tyranny.

Iran became a place where (after the overthrow of the Shah and coming to power of Ayatollah Khomeni) laws were the
only platform for behaviour. People were told what they are, what they must do, what they must wear and what they
must say.
'Black sheep' are public enemy no. 1 to such 'White sheep' displays of enforced conformity. The 'Black sheep' are faced
with peril, exile, acquiescence or underground defiance.  As with all countries that collapse into extremist 'White sheep'
administration, the fightback must be made by 'White sheep' pragmatists... or by 'Black sheep' who bravely walk the line,
testing how far they can go in their bid to regain freedom of expression...testing their leeway to challenge oppression and
moral paradoxes caused by the imperfection of unbending administration.

Today, I read a news column that claimed that Iranian students are facing a possible death penalty for participating in a
play that ('White' zealots claim) disparages the Twelfth Imam. The professor counter claims that the play does not disparage
the Imam - it disparages (and satirises) the hypocrisy and corruption of certain Iranian pressure groups presently active.
Probably, it is these groups who use their influence to protect their power... so they loudly demand the death penalty for
the 'blaspheming' students.
The President of Iran (perhaps hardline, with a softish edge) is seeking to project a country moving away from theocratic
fanaticism, back into a country that is tolerant and pragmatic (in gradual evolvement). But the hard liners fight every inch
of the way... and these students may br presented before a hard line court, because the courts are controlled by hard liners.
They would be (naturally) found guilty of 'blasphemy' and the government administration, anxious to avoid confrontation,
may simply wash their hands (like Pontius Pilate) of something they have no inclination to be compromised by.

Antigone chose to openly defy the 'White sheep' laws of her country - and her death brought strong repercussions.
She challenged the belief of society with her own belief.. and death did not remove the idea of her belief. The city
had to look at itself - more so, after her death.
While she was alive, she was on an apparent island with her belief.... seemingly within the administration powers to
control. But the memory of her belief after her death is something the administration would find hard to challenge.
The memory would remain in those who knew her, in those who sympathised with her, and in those who challenged her yet
felt equally challenged within themselves.
Society is forced to re-assess its attitude and its resultant senses of right and wrong.

A law that seemed right and just suddenly becomes illustrated as wrong, because it can not adapt itself to every situation or

'Black sheep' can be moral, immoral or amoral; they can be open, or locked into belief. They cause Society to become
oppressed, or liberal.
This is either through their direct influence, because the power points of Society chose to believe them...
or indirectly, because power points of Society feel threatened by the challenge to its dogmatic entrenchment.
But 'Black sheep' who seek to defend their creative patch by discrediting all other 'Black sheep'? This can lead to an
intolerant 'White sheep' Society, where free thought is suppressed and banished.

'Black sheep' should be free to express themselves - and people should be free to view the expression. But for all of
us who undertake the mantle of being a 'White sheep' (whether it is for all our lives, or part of it), we must remember
that no one should be taken as the all knowing harbinger of truth. We must remember that administration should be a
communal effort to make a land enriching (inner and outer) for all its peoples, and its guests. To seek this without
oppressing neighbouring lands, or being oppressed by them.
Such a balance is a hard thing. Actually, it is impossible.
Which is why we always have to be challenged... and why laws should be open to compromise, and revision.

Dogmatic administration always leads to stagnation.

But this whole monologue is like opening a door and seeing more than can be possibly summarised. I tried to philosophise
on something that seemed simple. But, while I wrote, I discovered I was out of my depth... to the point where I couldn't
swim in any direction and be sure it was the right one.
Isn't this just the definition of Pragmatism?
To be able to see you can't see everything?
Nonetheless, despite swimming in deep water I was able to swim.

So if swimming is possible? Then exploration is possible... in whatever direction I choose... and taking any alternative
direction that may seem more promising.
Isn't this the basic reality of Society?
In some directions, there lurk monsters. In others, there will be food. We need to recognise the monsters and alter
direction in time. We need to find the food. It will be eaten, and more food must be found. Monsters that remain in
one place and are a natural consequence of taking a certain direction need to be noted - and that path avoided.
But mobile monsters can appear in any direction....
Shut up, Brian!!!
I can't hope to unravel any of this.
Because I am made up (inner and outer) of 'White sheep' and 'Black sheep' impulses and viewpoints. In myself, there
are whole Societies, where 'White sheep' and 'Black sheep' interaction has led to dogmatic or liberal nations, where
oppression or free expression are in place. All of this is inside me.
When I interact with another person I am interacting with someone who also has their own inner and outer Societies.
Their nations and Societies will have reached differing conclusions in comparison to mine...

because I, myself, am made up (on inner and outer levels) of White Sheep and Black sheep impulses and viewpoints. In myself, there are whole societies where White Sheep and Black Sheep interaction has led to dogmatic or liberal nations. Nations where oppression and free expression are in place.
ALL of this is inside me.

When I interact with another person, I am interacting with someone who has their own inner and outer societies. Their nations, or societies, will have reached differing evolutions from my nations, or societies.

But the other person and I meet... and the way we respond to each other is via the universe of inner nations within our independent bodies. The oppression and free expression of all these nations will formulate my psyche, and the psyche of the other person.
A full analysis of two people meeting is impossible to completely undertake, because it would require an analysis of each and every inner and outer society in both our bodies and minds. We would probably find this same complexity facing us if we were to attempt to analyse just one of these inner societies.
Maybe I may even find myself inhabiting a place called Earth... and writing this.

There I am... looking out at the Universe and wondering about it, only to be looking at something that is actually inside me. Imagine it:
We are all inside each other, looking at a Universe that is ourselves, other people, other forms... and what is outside is inside... and either journey is eternal, whether we look inside or outside.

Perhaps a little thing I concocted yesterday may give an idea of my line of thought concerning two people meeting, and the result:
Rome remonstration
Zolar 2
The tale of Uptown Suzy
The Societies within me
The Missing Link?
Jim meets Jane and thinks:
Jane meets Jim and thinks:
Two musing thoughts. One from Jim. One from Jane.... but each word in each sentence represents an association with bacterial societies within Jim and Jane. These societies have their own needs and priorities and, quite possibly, morality. So let's take a quantum leap and analyse each word in each sentence and allocate it to bacterial or genetic nations within Jim and Jane, as a measure of aspiration:

The triggered inner nations of Jim:
(a nation sure of its identity)
LOVE (a nation that cares)
SIMPLY (a nation that wants easy answers and non-complexity)
LONGINGS (a nation that sees opportunity as paramount)
AND (a nation seeking unity)
REMEMBERED (a nation feeling contrition)
TEARS (the nation that suffered from the contritious nation)
MELTING (a nation blending with another)
AS (a nation keen to emulate or imitate other cultures)
IRON (a nation under dictatorial rule).
The triggered inner nations of Jane:
WHERE - a nation seeking direction
GOES - a nation taking a chosen path
OUR - a nation asserting possession
LOST - a nation defeated
DREAMS - a nation with unrealistic ambitions
IN - an ethnic nation within a larger nation
OUR - a nation asserting possession
HEART'S - a nation with clear purpose
FORGING - a nation under construction
SHAPE - a nation questioning its construction
The converged thoughts of Jim and Jane emerge thus:
"Is where love goes simply our longings lost and dreams remembered in tears our melting hearts, as forging iron,

I leave it to you to pick out what is being said, but with two people meeting and facing a prospect of interaction? Or during the process of interaction?
The two people will project individual questions like these constantly and both individual questions will constantly merge into a joint question - and all at a rapid pace, faster than the conscious mind can absorb.
There is a second or so to analyse both questions - and the jointly conceived new question.
Nor is the new question only a question. It has suggestion.

Imagine! Every second the two people interact (whether they speak, or not) there is a question from each, moulding together into a new question with elements of suggestion.
EACH WORD IS A NATION, implying the aspiration (or concentration) of that nation's populace.

This not only makes it utterly impossible to fully know another person, it also makes it utterly impossible to know yourself. We are a compendium of the nations inside us and the nations inside us are ever changing.

The Missing Link
Rome remonstration
Zolar 2
The tale of Uptown Suzy
The Societies within me
The Missing Link?


A tv documentary looked at recent breakthroughs in epigenetic research. The mystery was: What switched a gene on or off and why?
The breakthroughs proved that there was a link between ancestral experiences and our present bodies - and that our environmental experience could be memorised and passed on to our grandchildren. Famine for the grandfather could mean Diabetes in the Grandchild.
A switched off gene in a rat that was caused by a heavy dose of insecticide would remain switched off in the rat's offspring several generations on to the point of 85%.
But the question of what causes genes to switch on and off, or to go missing, remains unanswered as far as I can see. Unless you look at the 15% of rat offspring who were unaffected by the insecticidal inheritance. This is where the "Societies within us" kicks in:
The microbes within us are affected by what our bodies intake. My suggestion is that it is these microbes who switch genes on or off - and the insecticide may have annihilated, or radically de-populated the microbes responsible for a gene. The 15% suggests these microbes are capable of recovery over time.
In simple terms, there could be a nation that is the sole producer and exporter of sugar. If the insecticide decimates this nation, then the rest of the world will not receive its accustomed supply of sugar. If the nation is unaffected and in fact gains benefits from the insecticide, the sugar export will increase to the point where other nations are taking an unhealthy ammount of it. If there is a nation that acts as a custom point to prevent such a surfeit - and if this nation is decimated by the insecticide?
Then even if the sugar producer remained stable, the lack of a custom point would lead to uncontrolled export of sugar to the other nations

"Humans" invade Earth from Veritas, a broken fragment from their former world.
Evolution by ingestion of 'human' microbes released amongst the cosmic dust
and fragments of two asteroids colliding in space 8.2 million years ago?

Daily Mirror report 21/01/2006
Report in the "Daily Mirror" - 21/01/2006

These microbes would be able to survive at extremely slow local time conditions (temperature) and would thrive and replicate at a faster local time condition (38 degreesC ). Given time, they will displace or dominate the microbe culture within many species and ultimately control the information and formation within sperm and egg. Not all members of the species indigenous to this planet would have succumbed to the microbe invasion borne by the cosmic dust, but the eventual product of the asteroid 'invasion' would include our human ancestors.
"The percentage of relationship in the hominid family tree ("based on genetic and anatomical factors between apes, humans and their ancestors" ) is:
100% - Human
97% - Chimpanzee
96% - Gorilla
93% - Orang-utan
90% - Gibbon
88% - Rhesus Monkey
87% - Vervet Monkey
58% - Galago" *
This would suggest that the microbes from the asteroid collision constitute a minimum of 3% of our microbe culture.
It also suggests that there are cultures within us that could survive a complete destruction of this planet and maintain a slower existence upon the asteroid fragments that would emerge from the broken planet.
Another question would be: What is the fastest time speed (hottest environment) that can be borne by these cultures with us?
Our lack of fur suggests that the previous planet inhabited by these cultures (or previous Sun) was a great deal warmer. As a result, it could be that the "alien invasion" failed in all but the warmest regions of this planet initially.
But look at us today and see how we have dealt with the problem.

* Chronicles of the World - Longmans