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Order out of Chaos?
… or visiting chaos upon us in order to invert the natural order, and subvert safety and wellbeing? The fabian globopsychos want the latter. There is our choice before us.
Yesterday at HQ, IYE theatre had 4:50 From Paddington, in which Lucy Eyelesbarrow brought order to the kitchen chaos of an old family home in the countryside … everyone seemed to welcome it except for the head honcho and the baddy of the story for whom it wrecked his/her plans.
My parents were sticklers for order but not in an oppressive way … they instilled a way to bring order to chaos, not unlike Lucy E … but not everyone likes that. All my life, a chaotic life which seemed to attract the more Bohemian women, I did chaos in an orderly way, which I don’t expect to make sense.
In my army days, we went on exercises and bivouacked, e.g. on hillsides, just under the ridge and it was obvious that I did jot see it in the same light as my mates. They got under the ponchos quickly, happy to sleep rough on tree stumps etc, coz that’s the manly thing … so they thought.
Not my sergeant and I. I insisted we gather brush, bracken and ferns and half fill the tent before kipping down … result was we were well rested next morning. My field officer senior over me would have questioned that, had he known, probably with the argument that we were meant cover all signs of habitation next morning, to fool the enemy.
My argument would have been that any good tracker would discern we had come through and camped there anyway, plus it was not war, it was friendly countryside and just an exercise. Which would have sent him out of his head, which unfortunately was a penchant of mine … sending superiors out of their trees.
And had it been the real deal, I’d not have bivouacked but maybe stayed on a thick tree branch, tied on. And so on. Where’d I get the idea of making the most uncomfortable chaos comfortable and orderly? From Baden Powell of course. It’s unfortunate that his reputation has suffered due to a certain penchant similar to those who burnt down Starmer’s abode but he also made much sense.
He said that a good bushman never roughs it … he brings order and comfort to wherever he finds himself. You dan say what you like about my humble abode here but at least it’s fairly clean and most orderly, organised to the last detail. On socmed, that comes through in the various connected sites, which need to run nearly like clockwork.
What happens when someone threatens that? Well it’s happening right now, minutes ago. Readers see the posts and layout, I see the 89 overnight spam, some pages long. However, there’s a nice system to get around it. Why not just antispam? Because it’s all an attemot to impise DigID, so I have to out a spanner in their works that way. So yes … bring my own chaos to their New Order.
The two are easily switched. An irderly mind who keeps his/her head can switch from order to chaos and back. A disorderly mind can only stay disorderly. Orderly mind is therefore so b-o-r-i-n-g?! Can be, yes, WN1 told me that … she wanted only excitement 24/7 … I was one though who switched to chaotic if I wanted but my default position was orderly.
To be fair, hers was too. We “did” chaos at times, if that makes sense … we weren’t chaotic in the brain unless we wanted. In fact, there were certain core rules, which I know in Russian … my darling’s mother often reminded me … “na myesto”, J, “na myesto” … in its place. Everything has a place and everything goes into its place.
Usually I organise my writing into “threads”. When someone threatens that, I become quite edgy, don’t like it. There are certain brains which simply cannot handle orderly, hate it, it’s no “fun”. You think this tavern is all order, no fun? Wot … nowhere fun?
My darling’s mother once, when I wanted to help her in the kitchen before a meal, marched me straight out, putting table cloth etc. into my hands … your place is in there. TV remote is on the sideboard. Organise the wine. Uh huh.
Let’s now look at Ceuta, coming up again at Sunday 3. That was organised complete chaos, to demoraluse westerners, frighten them … fabians organising savages. Two can play at that though, can’t they? We, the non-freaking-out, can see that they could do with a bit of chaos in their own clever schemes.