Ah yes! There is always...

There is within me, a need to avoid the extremes of world and local news, a world weary stance of head in the sand and lets find some nice distractions in this sandbox. Ah! Twitter! The very medium to play inconsequential communication and play flirt, joker, thinker of abstract concepts. A non qualified visitor to the Ivory Tower wannabe world of low status intellectual masturbation -with some sharp self reflection, and emotional play, with the friendships growing crushes and minor heartaches, misunderstandings -a gentle pseudo Proust world, of relationships being all there is.

I could happily have been a Proust, but without the laying in bed that is. I like moving, swimming, playing badminton, walking moors, cycling, camping -but am a family manager, with financial obligations in a time of recession. Worrying. So why engage with the wars, the press intrigue, and so forths.

The case in the States of Casey Anthony, a mother of her murdered daughter, highly implicated in that, but given a not guilty verdict, somehow crosses over to the Milly Dowler case here in the UK, the murdered teenager, whose family were virtually tortured in the trial by the murder's legal defense team. Subsequently it was revealed her phone was hacked, by a News of the World reporter and such revelations bringing a storm of public revulsion -that's spilling out onto the police, politicians, and that press baron-Murdoch.

Harmless innocents, being tortured, raped, slaughtered, and the horrific circumstances being ruthlessly and mercilessly exploited by certain media types.

A plot for a play that would be a prayer that cries out to heaven.

And so we get embroiled in the brouhaha, we have a topic of conversation, to tweet, to post, to ponder.

But like many others in the first world, I will survivie my temporary financial discomfort, my daughters's will be protected by community friends police and school. That is my prayer.

Others in this human global community will face and suffer such outrages on a daily basis, and this will never reach our ears, because they are the world's poor. Somehow that is a different planet residing on this common globe.

Do such vile crimes against innocents in the third world also not cry out to heaven?

It is almost too much to bear, I should take some action, support some charity, take a break from inconsequential communication. Or will I?

I wonder what is flowing in the Twitter Time line...

I could blame heartless corporations, their insane obsession with maximising profits at any cost. ANY cost, including the earth upon which their businseeses depend. I could riled by politicians, I could go to the gym, have a swim. Dream of fabulous sex with imaginary others whose image is a composite of real and constructed females.

Male sexuality. is that the driving force of nature that is causing our species to embroil in such tragic farcical deadly games? Is nature actually indifferent to the cries of the innocent?

And the old, old question-are we caretaken by a supernatural agency -that cares for us?

My suspicions are that we, WE, are that agency, we are in essence more than the mortal skins enclosing insane behavioural programmes in our wetware hemispheres. But I'm not going to get all religious. Done that. Now perhaps I can look at Neitszche Wittgenstein -Oh gawd, no, letting that go of that too.

So what is there left? Ah yes, -Twitter

The Tweetup, the Cocktail and a new Bar Sport

When you think about sports events in bars, one thinks of dominoes, cribbage, cards and the like. The setting is all there, the equipments, people know how to play them, can anticipate what the outcome will look like, and so on.

Imagine then an event not created or anticipated, no special equipments, but there are the people, the drinks. Also, what most pubs and bars have on tables, a menu stack. Cards set in an upright position like a small cardboard wall, this one being about 25cms high.

Then further picture the scene of three twitter folk meeting in real life. Now, something has got to happen -but why should it have happened in the way it did? Was it not serendipitous that Laura had a Raspberry Mojito cocktail, sporting a straw stick angled toward the Laura launcher?

Launcher? Yes, I see you are now beginning to suspect. In fact the said cocktail was some 90cms from the menu stack which faced the drink -but still at this moment, Alan and Rosie sitting orthogonally to the field, were chatting, unsuspectingly. Then it happened. Was it an attempt to win back attention from Alan & Rosie? Was Laura trying to bat a fly away? We may never know.

What is of record was the action of her arms windmilling in a frighteningly rapid manner. It was so quick, but I saw her left arm begin its critical move, arching down then striking up, her hand engaging the cocktail straw-stick. Thus it was launched, the hand-strike causing it to spiral, up and away from the Raspberry Mojito's glass, and begin it's flight towards the menu stack.

Rosie and Alan couldn't help but notice the flying stick as it as it traversed their line of sight, thus they became the first spectators to this emerging bar sport. They also experienced a scream, an exclamation, a shout. It was the launcher herself, cracking out a sharp staccato utterance, roughly translated as 'oh shit' -but more explosive. I swear those sound waves intercepted the twirling stick and gave it an extra lift. Thus a new sport, a new technique.

I remember thinking it's not going to clear the top of the menu stack -but it did. Clipping the top-edge of the card, traces of Raspberry Mojito spraying out, it finally toppled over. The event was complete. A new bar sport was born, and the record stands.

Did applause follow? Such a momentous occasion, the birth of a new bar sport -but no. Something more appropriate; pure side-splitting, underwear-wetting, laughter.

So, I thought, this is how 'tweetups' go. Cannot wait for the next one!

ISH

So I wrote a tweet: 'The gloss of meaning has worn to it's undercoat of skittled protection for THAT substrate-can you see that? The ISH is no longer hidden'

True -ISH -like Carlos Castaneda's works, reviled and revered, (was it was fabricated?). That word has a whiff of pejorative, but is technically correct, a building is fabricated, built, constructed, so is a narrative. A narrative then stands in some court of dubious jurisprudence, a Kafkaesque movement of occasional witnesses, advocates, judges and jury, of peers and other misfits. A veritable moving feast for diners, starving of anchored meanings.

So what's to be done.

Nothing. As @NihildeNada says. No-thing. But in that nothing what something may arise, gives us some pause and makes hazardous of so long a twit longer that I retreat to the blog. From here psycho-babbles of great pitch and moment, in this consider, have their birth pangs.

Addiction to squat diddly writing?

Addiction is another topic. My theme this time is the region of truth that we can safely settle for. The ISH therefore is a moniker whose time has fished that notion from the pond, that we call, maybe, our collective unconsciousness, coma'd and dressed, like a sleeping log.

I ramble now, and revert to stream of mind fullness unconcerned of it's responsibilities to rational discourse. My theme, however, ravaged by distractions IRL, i.e. my daughter's babblings, belie the fragility of holding even an ISH.

'That is all'

Reflections from a time in Ireland

Well guess what,!YES! the theme of the effect of twitter on me. Ho hum. I had no network connection for my phone, so I couldn't do the usual thing. Reverted to brief snatches in Internet cafes in Kilarney. "Anoder friggin twitter freak are ye? Feck. Yer'd better have dat one, it's got its own loo"

But then - this meant more contact with our family in Kerry. And I realised; the last time I've had any days without twitter, was during November 2010. I had joined twitter on the 14th November, at 21:16 hours. I was sipping a can of Holstein Pils, was wearing my pink tutu as I recall.

This twitter fast actually felt good. Also I think, feeling good from great contact we had with our family there. All the cousins got -on famously, as they always do. Bro in Law and I played guitar; Sal and her Sis sang like angels, we drank, we laughed, soo lovely.

And then visiting that gorgeous country, as you might imagine, priceless. Only the first day was it its usual brooding damp mystical, lowering clouds and all -then after, days of glorious weather. The locals kept scratching their heads in puzzlement, pointing excitedly to that strange bright thing in the sky.

Then as we travelled, and visited the land; the Dingle peninsular, lovely Inch beach, there you all were. Some in particular, commenting in my mind, that internal chatterer psyche- me, conversing with the resident installed and staying resident twitter- folk carved in synaptic traces.

So the quality of the internal chat before last November? Actually not very happy traces, old hurts and angers, chronic gripes with friends family and customers, stress of work, money, house structure and other droppings.

So the new synaptic, twitter induced traces, such a relief from the usual stream -a case for therapy -but is twitter that therapy?

A recent session I had with a therapist was suspicious of twitter -or my intensive relationship with it. She was assessing me for a CBT referral from a internal nuclear event in 2008.

I've given up the anti depressants, they knacker my libido, and keep me in some soma stable, reduce my anger, but blunt that edge too. So I'm taking a risk, my GP would disapprove, but the last young psychiatrist thought it could work as a trial. he left the service but I'm following his advice. Also the threads on twitter, the debate about the efficacy of anti depressants, Taking the chance, taking the ableness of my response skill. Love the free energy of doing that -avoiding my family and friends well intentioned smotherings.

So are we just electro -chemical events at the synaptic cleft? I got a lot of accolades from fellow students from constructing that one when doing psychology years back. Oh, I did I mention I've got a BSc 2:1 honours and a MSc in psychology? Wanna see the certificates? Oh go on! So egotistically proud of that. Ah lovely. But it mattered squat -all, when I imploded! irony perhaps.

But I digress, undress my followers, let me see your droppings. Oo no! OK, put back yer fancy fantasy avatars; back on I say -your nakedness, like mine really, so seen it; worn the marketing poster -shall we do a DVD? lets film it in Kerry!

'I'm on the train' -poem (sort of)

Afternoon travel
Golden light sun
London train runnin
Gliding with a hum

White yellow orb
winter bare branches
Oranging green fields
Lighting hedge flaunches

Winter leaves laying
Bright ochred sun
Tangled twig matrix
Blurred train run

Pastel white blue sky
Setting golden sun
Burnt umber forest fields
Train racing fun

Through the Twitter

What comes through the Twitter, stays in the Twitter -Not

So it was a romance, a twitter flirtatious romance, and I thought she was writing for me, but no, it was for another that she pined for in unrequited mourning. He ignored her for months, I took an interest, and back he came, metaphoric phallus waving, claiming back his neglected twitter lover. She was delighted, and after several attempts to keep both going, dumped me, and I was bereft, for about 72 hours.

My bereftness was masked by a heavy fluey cold, but my 12 year old suspected, she thought it funny, she was right on the button. So it was coming out of the twitter, my mood in the height of that brief emotional affair was soaring, after, it was leaden for a while then it lifted again, feeling my self feeling again, that falling in love, that bitter rejection, the resurrection phoenix like from some shallow ashes,

And then OMG it happened again. But so differently, oh so differently and more intensely, more locked. God help me.

And then I see the lovely people, some guys mostly gals, and they all have their song their story, and I could fall in love with them all, everyone. So what up with moi? Is not my rich life not enough, my cup that runneth over I want to runneth a tsunami, and then some more. Greedy hearted? I don’t know,

I have to keep an eye on the time spent, as much as watching the alcohol points, the chocolate, the dally-ance with porn is dead, and the yearning for actual 3D affairs; blunted by the twitter life.
So whats to worry?

Got to be addicted to something. Luckily for me it is not gambling, alcohol, smoking, or actual wild, wild women. There is something about the arms length friendships that arise in social media, makes it safe; the geographic distances, and yet it is not entirely safe.

But I realise I don't want to run a risk free life. Too sterile. So for the time I've got, to Love and to risk, without hurting my nearest in the 3D. That's the mission.

New work for caring Foxes

A large fox, beautiful orange ochre colour, came right up to french windows, sniffed around then ducked for cover as the regular black and white cat lofted the fence and about to make its usual stroll until it saw the fox. So they casually eyed each other, blinking looking away, taking turns to do this. The fox then loped toward the fence its right hand back leg limping.

I thought of how to help -but he/she had disappeared, and any way would have sprinted off as soon as I opened the door. Nature is not kind to it's injured wild critters. No health service other than healing licks from near kith and kin perhaps.

Maybe that's where the coalition is heading -disband NHS instead 'Big Society-Big healing Licks' -new work for caring foxes.

The effects of Twitter

My 12 year old asked me recently whether something had happened on Twitter that had affected me. So I told her, in anonymised form of some of the drama and stories, of the contact in Australia at the time of the floods, of the American friends, the Brazilian, the Canadian -and also that the wretched cold/flu, that had allowed me to stay off work and twitter, also influenced my mood.

What has and still amazes me, is the intensity of connection that is possible on that medium. The effect of social media, is not of course the thing itself, people do talk of marriages breaking up, twitter romances etc., but the media is just the catalyst, the thing that does not change, is neutral to its uses.

So to explain and describe, a research of small samples by one observer participant, can throw up some tendencies of use, and some indicative trends, carve out an outline of an outline for a research project. So would the wooden approach go. Rather I think,  some fiction, and embellishment or true beautiful stories, the range is considerable. So I will try to do something with the unfolding life on Twitter, keeping the identities confidential as I've been trained, that be-suits my own best standards anyway.

Watch this space!

What is badminton for? -Part 8/.

...This is a misconception and may be criticised for three reasons. First, it is strictly speaking a category error. The wrist is a joint, not a muscle; the forearm muscles control its movement. Second, wrist movements are weak when compared to forearm or upper arm movements. Some studies confirm the minor role of the wrist in power generation and also indicate that the major contributions to ‘power’ come from internal and external rotations of the upper and lower arm (try not to think hippopotamus).

Third and last, self-abuse is a private matter and is unlikely to contribute significantly to the question posed in this essay. Nonetheless some insist that the pejorative term of self-abuse is a metaphor for certain styles of play witnessed on the badboiiz court. But we have to listen to those others, including no less than Mark Twain himself, who consider the practice -‘not suitable for the drawing room’ and therefore by extension, the badminton court. However in some religious circles, self-abuse is now considered tolerable, and recovered from the sin it once was, as long as it is ‘ kept in hand‘.

But I digress.
.
It is interesting to note that due to the way that its feathers overlap, a shuttlecock also has a slight natural spin about its axis of rotational symmetry. The spin is in a counter-clockwise direction as seen from above when dropping a shuttlecock. Notwithstanding the aforementioned discussion of wrist-action, this natural spin affects certain strokes: a tumbling net shot is more effective if the slicing action is from right to left, rather than from left to right; -one exception to this, is, if the line of sight of the slicing-action player, is also orthogonal to the performance of the Badboiiz Badminton Haka.

So in conclusion, what is badminton for?
More research is necessary. It is an exciting time for badminton’s cultural and scientific research. Many in the community feel that the laboratory needs to be extended in the form of numerous visitations of several pubs in any given afternoon so chosen. The development of this concept will no doubt receive much interest and attention in the year ahead.

Alan Parham Christmas 2010.

What is badminton for? -Part 7/.

... Where Ee is the existential predicament of the male half of humanity, A is the particular individual agent carrying this predicament, and å Í is the summation of the range of experience pain and pleasure through the enigma of ‘existence’.

Borrowing a scale from the government’s initiative to assess well-being in the population, the game is represented by Y J K L where Y is the embedded psychology of the game and J K L (called the Cameron scale) is the range of experience of ‘A’ within any game. Thus a game can be represented using the base of an equation from chaos theory (see Appendix).

Digression- self -abuse and wrist action in badminton

As mathematical equations tend to put people to sleep, let us divert temporarily to consideration of a demanding cultural practice. I refer to of course the vexed question of wrist action in the relationship between badminton and self abuse.

A little known study has proposed that successful wrist action in badminton is a sign of advanced self-abuse (Parham et al) and is based on the pre-conception that that power in badminton strokes comes mainly from the wrist.

What is badminton for? -Part 6/.

...
So let us examine this claim of the priority of maths, in describing the game of badminton.
In badminton ‘energy’ is expended, but what is ‘energy’? Within Newtonian physics (that was good enough to get man on the moon) the definition of ‘energy’ can be stated:

“1/. When a force, F, acts on a body of mass, m, for a distance, d, it is useful to say that work, W, has been done on the body.”
For our purposes F in the case of a game is the application of a racquet, by a player, upon m, the shuttlecock, for a distance d, that the shuttle flys when struck. Thus W has been done on the shuttle and feathers are ruffled.


“2/.The work, W, is assigned a value W=Fd.
3/. You can therefore show that the work as defined by W=Fd is exactly equal to ½ mv²4/. The expression ½ mv² is also given a name. It is called the kinetic energy of the body.
5/. The more work (Fd) you put into pushing a body, the more kinetic energy (½ mv² ) it gets.”
(Reference: ‘Einstein for Beginners‘)

So the name of the game is for the ’Agent’ (player) ‘A’ to get a good whack of ½ mv² on the shuttlecock, within terms as described above.
But what of ‘A’ ? Also how do we describe mathematically the reality of an agent, acting within the bounded context of a game of doubles, so as to transform the mere whacking to a focus of three dimensional intent?
Each player can be considered as an ‘agent’ (A) within the following formulation;

Ee =(Aå Í ) + (Y J K L )

What is badminton for? -Part 5/.

...
Whereas this can be seen in terms of Newtonian classical physics, perforce those others who may demur and claim the scientific to be of minor importance compared to the cultural context. These others insist on the priority of the narrative skeleton upon which we put the sumptuous flesh of experience. But alas, this usually reduces to contemplations of the sexual tensions in the showers, the need to dominate and humiliate and so on.

Notwithstanding the insistence of these ruined pieces of Badboiiz nature we have to ask the question;- How can the science and the culture of the Badboiiz be combined to give a rounded flavour of this whole reality that is not just descriptive? Of course we do rely on verbal discourse; but probably at the risk over-reliance of the endless litany that merely celebrates the notion that we are all a construction of selves through time.
There is a lament that the rotation of the shuttle around its axis of flight has no correlation with the ‘self system’ (More on shuttle rotation below).

I would maintain however that such proponents are the enemies of promise; we must prevent the wheels of the project from falling off -we must now listen to those who in distinction and in minority, proclaim from behind their pints - “You have to do the maths“.

What is badminton for? -Part 4/.

...So through these deliberations we enhance ourselves as informed citizens and commentators of the world. We sharpen our observations on the enigma of the human species and engage in the understanding of human existence, and in so doing become de facto existentialists and pseudo polymaths.
There are many other cultural factors which bear upon the question ‘what is Badminton for?‘ Having reviewed some of them, we can now turn to the science of the game.

To reiterate the claim made above, badminton is a kinetic activity. Thus the science can be summarised as lying within the Newtonian concept of force applied to an inert object. It is with force the shuttlecock is launched in defiance of local gravitational conditions, and in turn meets air-resistance at a pressure characteristic of the height above sea-level at the Sobell Centre.
In contrast to tennis balls, the feathers impart substantial drag, causing the shuttlecock to decelerate greatly over distance. The shuttlecock is also extremely aerodynamically stable: regardless of initial orientation, it will turn to fly cork-first, and remain in the cork-first orientation.

One consequence of the shuttlecock's drag is that it requires considerable skill to hit it the full length of the court, which is not the case for most racquet sports. The drag also influences the flight path of a lifted (lobbed) shuttlecock. The parabola of its flight is heavily skewed so that it falls at a steeper angle than it rises. With very high serves, the shuttlecock may even fall vertically.

What is Badminton for? -Part 3/.

...
In these discussions heat and light is generated in ample proportions as we attempt to make clear, our combined cultural contributions to various human endeavours such as science, religion, politics, philosophy, relationships, whether there is such a thing as a self -organising Universe and also if the barmaid is in fact the great ‘Ur’ monster of Tollington, and so on.

But this is not to say that others in the pub are no less than we in this endeavour. However, as badminton players we have a great privilege in our superior ability to convey our cultural attainments compared to the general rabble. And therefore with great privilege comes great responsibility.

Notwithstanding the effort to keep the disappearing British pub alive with our custom, we embark on topics that no other ordinary mortal can dream of e.g. the exact description of the dramatic deceleration of shuttlecocks after being struck. To illustrate this compare the fastest
recorded tennis stroke by Andy Roddick at a blistering153 mph serve, with the fastest badminton stroke by Fu Haifeng's at a eye watering 206 mph recorded smash (Wikipedia).

What is Badminton for? Part 2/.

...
Indeed, during the game there is often some crowing, a sort of vulgar victory- verbal exclamation usually accompanied with arm actions. Advanced forms of this are deliberate attempts at intimidation with a grimacing show of the teeth in a Maori-style ‘Haka’ display that might also include the wriggling of one‘s booty. Thus the great cultural contribution of the badboiiz is the ‘badminton Haka‘.

In the same competitive choreography, after winning a point, it is a common for whooping and congratulary slaps, hugs and other forms of unnecessary body contact performed by the winning players. Also conferring with one’s partner conspiratorially, with sniggers, laughter and glances at the beaten opponents, so as to confer the status of ‘tossers’ and ‘losers‘, who deserve to die.

In addition, in the moment prior to the serve, there is the oft - used practice of delaying the delivery by moving as though to serve, but holding back, thus putting the receiving party off-guard. These tactics are not of the usual standard of British sportsmanship, but they happen nonetheless, due to the great cultural changes in society at large and among badminton badboiiz in particular.

Thus great tensions between the players are generated which unless defused can lead to considerable altercations, snide remarks and shoving in the showers. Therefore the practice of going to the pub afterwards is no indulgence, but a solemn and holy duty in order to defuse any animosities arising.
With the quaffing of ale, bitter, or lager or indeed orange juice and lemonade, an affable ambience is built up, allowing many verbal utterances to take place that sometimes resemble a ‘discussion’

What is badminton for? -Part 1/.

The Badboiiz Badminton Club Christmas Essay 2010

What is Badminton For?

by Alan Parham

(Warning: this essay contains explicit references to the practice of self- abuse that some may find offensive)

It is with great pleasure that I write the inaugural Badminton Club (Badboiiz) Christmas Essay, and I am grateful to the members of the nominations and cultural sub-committee, for their choice of Moi.
What is Badminton for? This is the theme I wish to discuss this year. The obvious answer would be to “play badminton”. The playing of badminton is however, not straight forward. Let me explain.

The game can be described both scientifically and culturally. Scientifically, the game is a kinetic activity whereupon the shuttlecock is struck with force and direction in such a way to avoid it’s return by the opposing players, but also to place it within an agreed code of a legal area in which the shuttle lands to effect the cultural phenomenon of a ‘point‘.


This requires skill, dexterity, bodily movement and a type of wielding of the racquet to effect the desired placement of the shuttlecock. Driving the shuttle to and fro across the net, the players enter into a sacred state of consciousness, described as the ‘rally’ when won is ecstasy when lost is misery. This gives the game its charm and excitement.

Individual players having varying ability to do this. There is therefore an unspoken league table of players from hopeless to heavenly with all degrees of attainment in-between.

Naturally the players strive to win the game. The game ends when the winning team acquires a designated number of points first. The vanquished team is expected to show great magnanimity by offering to shake hands with their victors. Normally the two players (in doubles of course) shake hands with each other, then approach the net to shake hands with their respective opponents. Occasionally one or other player on the losing side may ‘make to shake’, only to suddenly withdraw their hand and make a lunge at their opponents’ crown jewels.

Badboiiz

My badminton friends had long thought of a 'corporate' name to identify our little group. We had mused over our own individual levels of Bourgeois to Bohemian ratio -and found ourselves varying on that scale. So we pondered on the origens of the cultural term 'Bourgeois' -travellers in Paris who were thought to have originated from Bohemia that territory in turn was habitated by the 'Boi' around two millenia, they had tussles with Roman military. So us boys became 'boiiz'.


From Bourgeois to Bohemian- a case of association or contamination?
Bohemian’ was always used in clear contrast to ‘Bourgeois’ .Both terms seem to have eminated from the 19^th century chattering classes of France and Britain, although there was a distinctive variation in the US, that I will return to later (herumphh). Wikipedia says;“The term Bohemian emerged in France in the early 19th century when artists and creators began to concentrate in the lower-rent, lower class gypsey neighbourhoods. The term bohémien was a common term for the Romani people of France, who had reached Western Europe via Bohemia.[2]”In terms of the Badminton Club aka The Bad Boyz (that entity in we members have at least a modicum of intense identity) what is it of us that is Bohemian? Or more particularly of Adrian Lee? Interestingly Bohemia now a part of the Checz Republic was so named after the celtic tribe the Boii. So Boii -heim (home of the Boii) became Bohemia. So in what sense are we the Bad Boiiz or Bad Bourgies?
Of course Alan Parham, this writer, as a child of the counter culture of the 60’s was, yes I admit it, a token ‘Hippy’. But since then we have had Yippies, Yuppys, Dinkies. Now we have BoBos. But more of that later.
‘
Bohemianism-also dubbed in Wikipedia as:“…the practice of an unconventional lifestyle, often in the company of like-minded people, involving musical, artistic or literary pursuits, with few permanent ties. Bohemians can be wanderers, adventurers, or vagabonds.”
On this simple scale we score as follows (in no order of first among equals).

	Adrian	Peter	Douglas	Nick	Magid	Alan
Unconventi-onal lifestyle	Yup	Mmm	Er	Nein	Nein	Maybe
Musical artistic or literary persuits	Yup	Mmm	Yup	Some	Mmm	Some
Few permanent ties	?	Nein	Nein	Nein	Nein	Nein
Wanderer,	Sometimes?	Nein	Mmm	Mmm	Nope	Nope
Adventurer	Sometimes?	Yes-ish	Oooh	Yup	Mmm	Wannabe
Vagabond	North Grove	Only in dress	Beard for it	Occasional	Oh No	Teeth for it

Scale Yeroop/Der/Doh/Yup/No/Way- No Way/Whoa/
　As one can see there are a few areas for future research, controversy, denial and projection. Are we also like minded? Yes we go to the Tollgate and consume beer. Although Magid may be a bit of a heretic in this regard. Mmm.“What, then, is it that makes this mystical empire of Bohemia unique, and what is the charm of its mental fairyland? It is this: there are no roads in all Bohemia! One must choose and find one’s own path, be one’s own self, live one’s own life.”