Instalment One Hundred and Seventy Six

Life wasn’t actually very sweet in the Land of Milk and Honey, not unless you had a connection in the neighbouring Kingdom, the Realm of Tea and Toast.

You see there’s only so far your economy can get with the ingredients of Sleepytime Nap Drink, it doesn’t make for a productive workforce.

The two lands, once such fine friends and natural partners had become bitter rivals, forever competing for the lucrative weekend-getaway tourist dollar.

The Queen of Tea and Toast knew she too had been damaged by the long embargo, dry bread and black tea does not make for glowing accommodation reviews online.

Like all wars it, it was not a matter of wining but trying to lose less the longest, until one day they were united by a common enemy.

Raiders from the new world, the Cult of Coffee and Cake came calling.

The Queen’s emissaries, Earl and Lady Grey were sent to a brokering with Milk and Honey with a message of armistice.

“Our land must join together or our cultures will perish.”

And so the two lands came together and the new nation of Continental Breakfast was born and visitors were mildly sated but wished for bacon.

Instalment One Hundred and Seventy Five

You need to build up your capital if you want to get ahead son, I was told. So I stared a sports hat shop, ALL CAPS as well as a sports hat shop for kids,  Small Caps to build up some capitals. 

It. 

Was. 

Simply. 

The. 

Beginning.

CAPITALISM started running RAMPANT ACRoss the world. IT WAS every MAN and WOMAN for THEMSELVES. OperATING UNCHECkED it was DISTROYING WE ONCE HELD DEAR and TRUE. CAPITALISM TOOK OVER. NO ROOM FOR DIFFERENCE, DEVIATION NOT WELCOMED. “LOWER CASE IS LOWER CLASS” THEY SCREAMED.

NEXT THE SERIFS WERE RULED SUPERFLOUS AND WE SERIFED NO MORE. PROBLEMS FOLLOWED. BUILDINGS FELL DOWN. I-BEAMS WERE NO LONGER I SHAPED. PEOPLE DIED.

so we tried to live without capitalism. 

we welcomed back all the exiled serfis. issues arose. t-shirts fit no human. y-fronts left it all dangling out in the wind. c-clamps, o-rings and s-bends were now way too small. a-frame houses fell over but a-line dresses were more accommodating to curves. it was a mess. quit your complaining and make your point son, i was told. so i made my point big. 

i’m gonna make my mark on the world, so I had a go at marksism.

Instalment One Hundred and Seventy Four

“We do nothing, still they come.”

“They hunt sister. They kill for joy. Not even eat.”

“They are sheep, know only what others do. Copy.”

The wolves were sad.

“We do better job with child than they. We only kill for need.”

The wolves were angry.

“Change must come.”

The wolves came. Down from the mountains. Out of the forests and the plains.

At night they took the children. All the children.

They was much howling in the village come dawn when the children were found to be missing.

Up in the mountains, in the forests and plains the wolves raised the children right.

Seasons bled into years.

The children returned. In packs. Wild eyed, matted together with loyal hearts.

They marked their territory, there would be a new way. Act true and protect.

The village grew strong and prospered.

The wolves returned.

“You kill bears for us.”

The wolf children said no, the bears do not harm us, you taught kill only in need.

The wolves were sad.

The wolves returned to the mountains, the forests and the plains and stole some bear cubs as their parents slumbered, raised them right.

Soon wolf bears would visit the ungrateful village.

Instalment One Hundred and Seventy Three

Patents are God to their children.

My dad was just like Jesus, he left and said he would return.

After three days his side of the closet was empty, so he was telling the truth. I just wish we had been home.

My sister called it A.D. from then on, for After Dad, and gave up on him.

I stopped believing in Jesus when I was thirteen but still thought he had said some good things.

I believed in my dad a lot longer and he never said anything good.

He was like a set of house keys, always somewhere else when you looked for him. And like keys, you would blame yourself until he turned up. I was sure it was something I did wrong.

Now I’m old, on Sunday morning I listen when the radio plays gospel music, but I don’t believe in the man they sing about. And now I’m old, on Sunday night I listen when my dad calls, but I don’t believe the man he tells me he is.

Turns out it was me that was a lot like Jesus, killing myself for a distant dad’s approval.

We could never get close to our Farther.

Instalment One Hundred and Seventy Two

Like many of you, I was told I to get somewhere in medicine, specialise. Pick something you love, a pediatrician said. She was wrong. Do something were you can make the biggest difference.

I became a Witch Doctor.

Diverse bunch witches, you never know what you’re going to get day to day. Yes I know, there’s a lot of warts, people tell you that and it’s a hundred percent true. But other days you can really make a difference. I had a witch presenting with chest pains, run the tests, turns out it was simply a matter of diet. If you’re only eating greedy kids fattened up on sweets and cakes of course your cholesterol is going through the roof.

And there’s still so much to learn, my paper “Water stored in wooden buckets has adverse effects on Wicken,” will be published next month.

They’re a challenging community, always mixing home-brew cures rather than taking prescribed medication, but we’re making inroads. And sometimes listening is enough. What I’ve learnt is that behind every poisoned apple there’s a women who society told she isn’t fair enough. Treat the patient not the symptom guys.

So don’t curse yourself, be a Witch Doctor.