Asides

Pagan Freedom – Poem

Christian, Muslim, Hindi, Jew

Do I need protection from you?

In trade and morals I am ‘fair game’

This thought is slightly profane

Like white man’s drug prices and black man dues

It has no place in an equal race.

I feel persecuted, neglected and used

And, it’s all because of you!

Religious folks speak daily to me across every medium

Our Earth screams with the strain;

Rages as another of us is shamed

Christian, Muslim, Hindi, Jew

Do I need protection from you?

The End

By Samantha”unextraordinary”Harris

Watford, UK.

Today – A Poem

{Observational ramblings of a sick mind}

How much is a reaction worth?

To get those tears to fall down to Earth?

Today I feel back in tune.

The sun shines,

I feel renewed. But,

I’d even by judged by your spirit

As I lived my life for love, innit?

I am a different breed.

One of which you need.

The pressure of legacy haunts me…

And yet, what a beautiful day

Troubles seem further away

Curtains blow gently in the breeze

Sounds of traffic brought to it’s knees

Then driving away with the sound of bees

Bees humming

Engines burbing beneath

Me, raised to the top of the parapet

Can I look down upon

The green suburban scene

A content dream

Hearing families playing?

Unseen to them I see the kytes in the sky,

Viewing them as they soar by.

I see the flies buzzing around my window frames;

Their prescence in my home they wish to gain,

I hear children screaming and the barking of a squeaky dog.

A seagull squawks and flies by my window’s side

I know of the wonderful world where I reside

The End

By Samantha “unextraordinarybint” Harris

In Hertfordshire on the 5th September 2021

Great Britain in the United Kingdom of the British Isles.

Bank Holiday Weekend? – poem

I didn’t even know it was bank holiday weekend

One lives through the day and then it all blends

What stops me from going?

I’ve never been in so much pain yet had so much to live for.

I feel so miserable.

To a depth

I’d never have thought it possible.

Pain stops,

DROps

Plops

Soul is left,

berift,

adrift,

Listening to lives being lived.

End.

By Samantha unextraordinarybint Harris on 27th August 2021 Watford, Herts, UK.

Too depressed to even write what going on. Still no referral for TVT mesh removal or care/treatment.

Insecurity – poem

Will I always be a checkbox of fantasies?
Can I be seen as the whole sum of me?
Do I believe I have what I need?
Will I ever know the peace that they know?
Truly, do they have the peace they show?
Can I be happy, just as me?
As I am?
Are ambitious plans based in reality?
Will success stay beyond me?
Then there is you.
What do I do about you?
You’re a reflection.

The End

by Samantha “unextraordinarybint” Harris

Tuberculosis is at Lowest Levels.

Detected.

request for sputum test
sputum test request showing to exclude TB in fifty year old female within a national health system

Most British people in their fifties were vaccinated against Tuberculosis at school.

I was one of those that queued up and got my TB shot.

But how long does it last?

This was the advice researched and copied on 24th July 2021 from London, UK.

Independent advice from the Guardian newspaper.

TB vaccine BCG effective for twice as long as previously thought.
https://www.theguardian.com/science/2017/aug/31/tb-vaccine-bcg…
31/08/2017 · Benefits of world’s only vaccine against tuberculosis were underestimated as new findings reveal it protects against the disease for at least 20 years.

American Advicewhich is slightly worrying tbh, as a Brit who’s had it.

Vaccines | Basic TB Facts | TB | CDC
https://www.cdc.gov/tb/topic/basics/vaccines.htm
TB Vaccine (BCG) Bacille Calmette-Guérin (BCG) is a vaccine for tuberculosis (TB) disease. This vaccine is not widely used in the United States, but it is often given to infants and small children in other countries where TB is common. BCG does not always protect people from getting TB.

United Kingdom of British Isles AdviceWe have a National Health System.

BCG tuberculosis (TB) vaccine overview – NHS
https://www.nhs.uk/conditions/vaccinations/bcg-tuberculosis-tb-vaccine
It’s less effective in preventing TB that affects the lungs, which is the more common type of TB in adults. Read the patient information leaflet for BCG AJV vaccine (PDF, 272kb) Read the answers to common questions about the BCG TB vaccine. Side effects of the BCG vaccine. Reactions to the BCG vaccine are uncommon and generally mild.

https://www.nhs.uk/conditions/vaccinations/bcg-tb-vaccine-questions-answers
The BCG vaccine contains a weakened strain of TB bacteria, which builds up immunity and encourages the body to fight TB if infected with it, without causing the disease itself. The BCG vaccination is thought to protect up to 80% of people against the most severe forms of TB for at least 15 years, perhaps even up to 60 years.

So why aren’t our NHS testing people with shadows on their lungs for TB??? I know this because I am one of the people who has been in contact with someone who has TB. I went on to have symptoms and diagnosed as COPD, but I’ve never had my sputum tested for tuberculosis because I had a vaccine thirty five years ago.

This worries me. I’m definitely not a doctor but it does interest me because it’s weird.

Just before covid19 hit our countries TB was starting to hit the headlines with a huge transmission in Wales killing at least one person.

A person has died following a tuberculosis (TB) outbreak in a Welsh village.

A further 80 people in the Llwynhendy area of Llanelli, Carmarthenshire, may have also come in contact with the disease and have been told to attend screenings for the condition in June.

And there was this…the first person to get corona virus 2019 was a Welsh teacher.

Connor Reed, 25, caught the strain while teaching English at a foreign language in a school in Wuhan – the epicenter of the outbreak – at the end of November 2019. As stated by the Evening Standard in May 2020.

This all adds up to some questions for me…What about you?

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the geography of the United Kingdom, it includes Wales.

So, Still Nothing. TVT mesh saga.

Through frustration and tears I write but couldn’t feel less like writing.

Sounds coming from outside remind me of lives being lived to the fullest whilst I painfully pace the length of the flat to stop my muscles from wasting completely.

In April 2020 the health minister kindly apologised to Polypropylene mesh implant sufferers and promised our care would change. For some people, it has. They’ve been referred to removal clinics and have made a recovery.

Unfortunately, some of us, are falling through NHS guidelines and our GPs seem unable to get us on the correct pathway for treatment. It has now been three years since my implanting surgeon recommended my implanted TVT be removed.

In the past year my dedicated GP has referred me out and seen me returned back to her by three Gynae consultants. I’m so grateful that she continues to understand my concerns and push for me.

I suppose, like any bad conservation job, it’s difficult to find someone afterwards to sort out a satisfactory outcome. The hold up is simply put. There is a shortage of surgeons to remove the mesh.

I’m tired of being in pain. I’m tired of being tired. I’m bored at a level no one understands. I’m frustrated beyond what I thought was possible and I see no end.

What do I see? I see a future of dealing with it.

And, I am starting, just starting to do it.

Before, I was clinging on to recovery and getting my life back again. I’m realising and adapting in my mind to the real fact that I am going to be stuck like this; sat accessorized in adult nappies, lording it around trying to look hot in a wheelchair.

Tears sting my eyes when I say I didn’t deserve this. But, none of us did. The guy who came to the hospital to get his hernia repair, the woman who got her bladder fixed or myself who got the TVT mesh implanted during a necessary hysterectomy, none of us deserves what’s happened.

Of course, in this life no one promised me a life without pain. One isn’t born feeling fantastic. In fact it’s the complete opposite isn’t it? From our first tooth cutting into tender baby gums to our last poop being forced out of a dry arse; life is full of pain.

It’s different when the pain is not experienced by everyone. I’m obviously conflicted on this as essentially, no one promised me life would not have pain.

I suppose I’m saying I need to start getting out, using the wheelchair if I need to, and living my life again regardless of the TVT. There is zero point in waiting for removal as the health services have more important people to deal with.

So, it’s still me and my TVT.

Thanks for reading.

Arbitrary Punishments Given at School

Remember school days? Those days our elders told us we’d miss? I don’t but I have started thinking more about education as I get older. It is no easy task to manipulate children into good behaviour.

A popular punishment at school, after corporal punishment was made illegal, were English writing chores. The irony of this is not lost on me.

I was a smart arse in the 1970s and 1980s. Accepting ‘smart arse status’ in adulthood helps me to understand why I was punished. How many children were forced to read the British encyclopedias their parents were conned into buying?

Starting school late resulted in my adoption of terrible social skills. My short sightedness wasn’t discovered until half way through my middle school which led to unintentional trouble. Labelled a cheat, I’d copy other student’s work when teachers chalked information up on the blackboard.

The first punishment I remember was the unforgiving wooden ruler across my outstretched hand. Anyone going through this punishment will know it ‘builds character’ – a strange British term – conjuring up the courage to hold out your palm for the second and third will help harden one’s soul. I’m glad it’s illegal now.

The bad deed which warranted the violence against me? I was mixing paints. Unfortunately making a brown mess when I was trying to make white paint. At six years old I’d read about light spectrums but hadn’t realised how bad paints were as a medium for experimenting with light.

By the time in was secondary school my smart questions were annoying, and the punishments too. My least favorite was being given thousand word essays on arbitrary things like The Life of a Penny in Teacher’s Pocket or similar themed story, such as The Life of a Cocktail Stick in a Kitchen Cupboard.

As a child, with little experience of life, trying to fill pages with fiction outside of lesson time was punishing. I’d yearn for the simple ‘five hundred line’ tasks heaped on my fellow students. I was so proud of achieving the essay word counts and so devastated by the teacher’s criticisms or lack of feedback.

Towards the last term of school I found the courage to ask for lines instead of essays. I remember the joy of carbon paper (this copied what was written on the top sheet) and sticking pens together so each line was repeated enabling faster completion.

When my children attended school, in the 1990s/2000s, isolation was the school’s line of punishment. Forcing the ‘disruptive’ children to stay in a room in isolation from their friends is punishment but with other disruptive children it is cruel.

For myself, I think the inconvenience and pain of writing lines was a good punishment. Being smacked across the palm with a wooden ruler was sadistic, unnecessarily cruel and ineffective. I suspect the written essays were to entertain the teachers and to stop my questions, which is why I eventually disappointed them.

What punishments were popular at your school and do you remember why?

The 2525 Pilgrimage

Inspired by a Zega & Evans song, released in the 1960s, called ‘In the Year 2525’.

The 2525 Pilgrimage by Samantha “unextraordinarybint” Harris

Centuries since Corona Virus Alpha hit Earth devastating our population, I sit here using a rusty blade, scraping marks in hope that I won’t be discovered by our monitors. We use this ancient fridge for storing clothing; working well for keeping moths out, my up-bringers and I sharing it. Now, it will bare these words for history.

At school, we’re told our ancestors used the fridges to keep carcasses fresh. It was a time when humans battled with each other, spoiling the planet with poisonous weapons. A time when people murdered Earth’s other inhabitants; selfishly eating animals, using them as a source of protein, they’d manufacture products from their carcases and enjoyed wearing animal skins, even using bones for medicinal broths and industrial glues.

I’ve never known a cold fridge. The harnessing of electrical power was outlawed for humans in 2050. For our safety, AI automatic droids maintain our planet’s electrical grids. Distribution and supply is strictly rationed to Necessary For Life organisations and not squandered by people.

I’m told my ‘need to create’ is an escalation of my illness, so I must be cautious. I’m a committed New Beginning Believer but the evilness of bad mental health remains. Managing to physically scrape one word a day has taken discipline. My addiction craves more, risking raising my heart rate to a detectable level.

Weeks after the Corona Virus Zeta variant attacked the planet in June 2030 a cohort study showed how vulnerable humans became when out of their homes. As a major medical discovery it saved billions of lives but had not been welcomed by all. Deadly violent protests spread across the world faster than the virus, destroying cities and towns, cutting utilities and leaving land scorched with fire.

It is history now, how it was necessary for AI to oversee human health for The Common Good and the protection of our species and our solar system. Our homes, for our safety, had to become human cages.

Robots now distribute our care, limiting human error. Armoured vehicles travel streets delivering water tablets and nutrition, monitoring our vital signs so we rarely starve if we are viable. Thankful, we watch through holes we’ve piped into the hives on our windows.

Foxes, snakes, sheep, wolves and deer roam outside our homes on cracked tarmac. The grass verges, left to grow naturally, encouraging wildlife, are now host to the genetic insects released to combat stray humans carrying disease. Building nests and hives around us they are able to monitor movements keeping AI informed of our well being.

State television transmits a basic program service with special entertainment on Saturday nights. Generally television informs us of how the latest health programme progresses, which locations are expecting the Build Back Better vaccination robots and the daily birth rate over death rate graph.

International Communications are impossible for most since the satellites were, for our safety, reconfigured using the same space drones that humans had invented for mining exploration. Anti vaccination terrorists had to be stopped from using the networks to organise resistance and had been blocking The New Beginning Faith broadcasts.

Automatic trucks collect human waste weekly from each street moving it to a collection point where it’s transported by crane into giant airships run on biofuel. These craft transport the sweet smelling load to the ocean where it is released for the marine life to feed upon. Diet, controlled by AI, allows us to now produce nutrient rich waste which is useful until our deaths.

Few natural humans, other than royalty, can safely move around outside. We don’t have the genetic makeup. Crane drivers have outside protective freedoms. Having a skill AI can’t master, they bare witness to how the Build Back Better system is working. I’m assigned a crane operator as my lover. I pray we’ll be fruitful.

Gratefully, I’m able to leave home once in a lifetime. I’ve been researching my Life Pathway Journey on the battery run Ethernet computer. It will be so exciting to see The London Eye. One has to be patient as the current female pilgrimage age is the first month after one’s fifty-fifth birthday.

I pray I will still be considered worthy.

The End.

The Problem with Shagging Sheep.

Comments on the medical device TVT mesh.

There is some talk of TVT mesh implants and how they have ruined women’s lives around the globe, but not enough, in my opinion, as it’s a scandal.

It’s development is interesting. The TVT’s inventor piloted the initial study on sheep. Unfortunately, the gentleman died but his work was continued…He worked for Johnson & Johnson. They recognised the monetary value in a product which would cause problems for life…and also supply Tena lady.

TVT is a questionable treatment for an ‘out of control’ bladder after childbirth and it was promoted as ‘the gold standard solution’.

It was designed to be implanted for life. Essentially it is a long tape placed around the bladder. It replaced existing operations and saved an hour in theatre.

It’s made from polypropylene plastic mesh – the same material the marine life have problems with.

The TVT is wrapped, blindly with needles, around the outside of the vagina, under the bladder and through the pelvic bone – if you are lucky the surgeons will miss your skene gland, rectum and clitoris.

It ought to be mentioned, originally it was designed for ‘awake’ patients so the tension could be adjusted.

I want to go back to the pilot though. I’m assuming that they used the TVT mesh on sheep who’d previously given birth AND who accidentally wet themselves. I pity the research student whose job it was to find suitable candidates for study.

How many days were really spent finding pissy sheep?

A problem with TVT mesh, is as the plastic gets older it shrinks. It can make penetrative sex difficult/impossible and generally it causes severe pain as your other organs move against it.

How did they research the sexual element with sheep? Assuming they bothered.

And then, how would the researchers extrapolate the data? I’m thinking all the comforting cups of tea in China will not get a sheep talking. And, were the sheep checked afterwards to see if they were still dribbling? Did they put smelling salts under their noses to induce a sneeze?

There is also the bipedal thing…I know it’s small but surely an important factor?

How could they check if the sheep could lift something? A sheep has never worked in it’s life.

Whatever, I await removal.

Thanks for reading.

Edited to add cartoon and to say coincidence or not (day after I posted this piece) the media have covered many personal stories as news regarding mesh implants. But they are muddying the waters by suggesting these implants are biological. They are not all mesh is synthetic or synthetic based polypropylene. Also,, there is some suggestion that the implants have just not been fitted correctly…no, it is more than that so all these pieces people are being fed in the media have been bent out of shape to stop the blame falling at the medical devices doorstep – where it firmly belongs.

 

Destruction- poem

The war machine swims unseen

It slides, drifts in between

Hammer, hammer, hammer

Push, push, push

Making their need a must

Jobs for the many

Death for the due

It could be me

It could be

You.

***

<p id="destruction_poem_samanthaharris" value="<amp-fit-text layout="fixed-height" min-font-size="6" max-font-size="72" height="80">by Samantha "unextraordinarybint" Harris.by Samantha “unextraordinarybint” Harris.

Ruby Wax and Me – Nipple Poetic Story

There is a woman called Ruby Wax.

A more lovely woman you would not see.

She has cheeks of red which glow, and she hates them so.

Excitable she be and there are none funnier than she.

In earlier days she travelled around England to circumvent our inhabitants.

With Hit and Run, she met me.

Robert Lenkievitz’s model was I with breasts that you could anchor a ship on.

A study of St. Anthony found me naked on the BBC.

The next day, at my work, Boss was grinning like a jerk.

By lunchtime she’d made me coffee and then slyly asked me.

Yes, it was me.

Modelling naked on the TV.

Better though, I said, glowing rather red, was being interviewed by Ruby Wax.

I was immortalised on canvas and TV and that history could haunt me.

But proud, eventually, I would become; of my breasts, nipples and bum.

Meeting Ruby Wax who is a comedy best was the making of that assignment for me.

Afterwards, she went down to Longleat, for tea.

I went back to my bar, as the maid I really was, then I got fired because I’d posed naked for The Painter. See? One rule for one and another for me.

Now, I have Ruby Wax on my Facebook but she does not know that I was the body on which one of her episodes did close.

The End.

Thanks for reading.

https://youtu.be/TqlN3zJUWEY – you tube links are rather unreliable in UK so you could search for,

“Ruby Wax meets Robert Lenkiewicz in Plymouth, 1990. Hit and Run. “

Thanks for your time.

https://youtu.be/TqlN3zJUWEY

It took a year for this program to air – hence the two job reactions.

Ancestors Race – Poem

Ancestors tell me

In voices clear

Be close, but not near.

For centuries they took us

Never seen again

Ancient bones remain hidden

Under greed, envy and pain.

Wrath settles in dust.

Waken state they wake

Soldiers shoulders wide

Enemies show their scales

Poking the bear on the line.

Snakes rattle and spit

Ancestors remind me of it

Pirates of Barbary

Fair freedoms fought

Hold children safe

Whilst history is untaught

As we move into darkness

I hold to brotherly faith

I remember the contest but

Never the race.

The end.

By Samantha Harris

Calls for Harrow Council to clarify Harrow Viewpoint works | This Is Local London

https://www.thisislocallondon.co.uk/news/18860123.calls-harrow-council-clarify-harrow-viewpoint-works/

This is an extremely important pagan site.

They closed it off saying they were going to redo the carpark.

However, there is zero access to the public now and it looks like they are redeveloping.

Zero public consultation.

This land is our land!