*Good afternoon, Clicky… /pats snout… You’ve got the enormous chair out… /lights up… Good call!*
*Ooh chocolate! Thank you… /breaks off piece…*
*How Thoughtful Man allowed the scary clown to remain, Clicky, I’ll never know… /He’s scared of clowns…*
*/:O … Has it only been 5 years? Wow, feels longer… /smokes fag…*
*Roobot… /smirks… I met one this week…*
*Yeah, I know… Pepper…*
*Ha! I mentioned Stephen King’s ‘It’ in comments… /sticks out tongue…
*The film opens tonight and apparently the people going will be dressing up as clowns… /grimaces… Thoughtful Man’s working tonight – he’s gonna shit himself! … /drags… Enough of that, Clicky, I want to get onto the rats…*
*/:D… Nice catch! …stubs butt…*
*/lights up… That’s right Click… /inhales smoke… Roobee everywear… /exhales…*
*And I guess ‘FoG’ could be Friends of Georgie? … /rolls eyes…*
*/puffs… Don’t worry, Clicky, if I remember rightly, the rats didn’t so much float as get a bit singed…*
*A Song already? …/deep drag…*
*Oh I see… /finishes fag… Well I suppose this Library outing is quite long enough…*
Sell-by date is from 1972.
*That far? …/exhales plume of smoke…*
In the corner of Duncan Selbie’s fifth floor office in Waterloo, a stone’s throw from The Old Vic, there is a small plaque bearing a quote from the founder of analytical psychology, Carl Jung: “Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.”
‘Selbie, who has been chief executive at Public Health England since this autonomous arm of the NHS was forged from 129 health agencies – including the National Treatment Agency for Substance Misuse and the Health Protection Agency – three years ago, looks embarrassed when asked about the quote.
‘The 53-year-old Scot mumbles that it was given to him by a communications executive. He is already blushing about a certificate from the Institute of Healthcare Management that hangs proudly on his wall, and he is clearly uncomfortable explaining why he received it.
‘“I’m very British, you see, so how can I say it’s for ‘Outstanding Contribution for Leadership’?” he smiles, awkwardly. “I’m not North American.”
‘Eventually, he matter-of-factly states what Jung’s quote means to him: “Public health is all about futures that don’t yet exist.”’
*Quite, Clicky! …/drags… Btw, that clip appears to go in and out of sync…*
As well as economics, Selbie believes that companionship is key to a healthier life. He’s aware that might sound a little new age, but points out that this can be as simple as an elderly person being comfortable in the knowledge they have someone to take them home after a hospital operation.
‘He has backed interventionist measures, such as the sugar tax. And he urged hospitals to ban smoking anywhere.’
In 1961, Bill Wilson wrote to Jung saying that his teachings were a pivotal inspiration for him in co-founding Alcoholics Anonymous. Selbie lacks the audacity of a North American like Wilson to link himself so closely with Jung.
But it’s clear the softly spoken Scot’s plaque means more to him than he lets on. Be it alcohol, tobacco or safe sex, Selbie believes that the country needs to take a good look at itself and its wider problems before it can fully resolve its health issues.
1972 (MCMLXXII) was a leap year starting on Saturday (dominical letter BA) of the Gregorian calendar, the 1972nd year of the Common Era (CE) and Anno Domini (AD) designations, the 972nd year of the 2nd millennium, the 72nd year of the 20th century, and the 3rd year of the 1970s decade.
Within the context of Coordinated Universal Time (UTC) it was the longest year ever, as two leap seconds were added during this 366-day year, an event which has not since been repeated. (If its start and end are defined using mean solar time [the legal time scale], its duration was 31622401.141 seconds of Terrestrial Time (or Ephemeris Time), which is slightly shorter than 1908).
*’Amendment’? Yeah… ‘Morals and manners’? Most Definitely… ‘Accentuation’? …/wipes tear from eye… Doubly definitely, Clicky… ‘The self-satisfied’? I dunno about that, but I laughed like a drain…*
*/lights another smoke…*
*/taps off ash…*
*/drags some more…*
*/stubs out butt… Yes, yes I am Clicky…*
*/lights up… Too fucking right, Clicky…*
*/take puff and rests cigarette in ashtray… You know what Clicky, I’m so happy to have been able to help my two online chums in their budding ventures, I fancy having a little dance…*
*Nice! …/retrieves fag and resumes smoking…*
*I am not a princess, Clicky! …/looks aghast… *
*/sniff… Sandwich Queen, maybe… Now stop interrupting me…*
*No, Clicky, my pen name’s Roo B. Doo… sounds like RooBeeDoo…*
*Yeah well I’m rather more fond of a shamble than Tiff… /shoos away assistant… Now, stop butting in…*
*/Squints… It’s his pub, Clicky… Leggy’s the gaffer and I fully respect that… Now fuck off for a minute, I want to put the poem in…*
*Oh yeah… Anyone that knows me, noses there was only one giant, I’d take on, Clicky…*
I was between the Library and the room containing the fridge and cooker when Loopy called out.
“Yes, but first I’m turning on some lights and then I’m going upstairs to pee. Why?” I said, stopping in the doorway and clicking on the overhead light.
Loops in naked, teenage hairiness (except for pants – wear knot animals 😉 ), glided round into view. He was sitting in his Captain’s gaming chair, whilst Poppy lay sleeping along the length of his long, lanky legs. He languidly caressed her back, to which she responded with low, contented snores.
“Can I have a sandwich?” he asked with the innocence of 21st century Oliver Twist.
Thoughtful Man was out; however, earlier we’d decided secretly between the two of us – after a short but satisfying cuddle, before he got into the bath I’d thoughtfully drawn him – that he’d bring KFC home, when he finished work. I’d licked my lips at his whispered suggestion, and told him “Yes please.”
“Dad will probably bring something home with him later,” I told Loopy, knowing exactly how much food my children can put away over the course of a day. “What kind of sandwich?”
Loops eyed me coolly, his hand lingering over Poppy’s soft, velvety ears. “Pigeon.”
“I’m fresh out of pigeon,” I replied with a sagacious squint. “You can have ham.”
*Clicky! Where’s that video clip Loops showed me… /lifts up cushions… You know, the funniest pigeon video I said he could use as the filling…*
*/peers behind curtains… Oh, I don’t know, it’s gotta be hear sumwear…*
*Thank you, Clicky… /pats snout… Now pass me a rollie…*
I didn’t turn round to answer Thoughtful Man as I was trying not to lose focus. “Taking photos.”
“No, I can see that,” he said with his usual air of exasperation. “What are you photographing and why?”
“Oh, it’s a sweetie present Poppy sent me,” I said. “It’s for a LoL post.”
“What?” he asked with his usual air of confusion. “Da baby leaves us presents but they ain’t so sweet,” he continued in a baby sing-song voice.
Now I was confused so turned round to see him holding our darling dooshund, Poppy. He was obviously addressing her with the cutesy tone. She could obviously smell something tasty, as she was attempting to dig her way out from under his arm to get to me.
“Ah, not Popstar here, Leggy’s girlfriend Poppy from Denmark… she’s sent me some Spunk. Would you like to try some?” I asked innocently.
“No thanks,” he said wrinkling his nose. “Spunk? Have you tried them yet?”
I adopted a serious expression. “Well, they’re hard jellies. The fruity flavoured ones are nice but got stuck in my throat. I’m afraid I spat the salty liquorice one out,” I reported.
Thoughtful Man looked at me intently. “So you both spit and swallow Spunk,” he said slowly, “and you’re going to tell everyone this in a post?”
“Yes,” I said with a vigorous nod. “She also sent me some pipes in a handy travel pack.”
“Oh for god’s sake,” he sighed with his usual air of weariness, turning to leave with the pooch. “Ploppy and I are off the bed. Have fun with your sex and smoking whatever…”
I also received an image of a book this morning, from MEROVEE Frank…
And then a tweet caught my attention…
So I opened it and read the mined lines…
‘prestigious (adj.)1540s, “practicing illusion or magic, deceptive,” from Latin praestigious “full of tricks,” from praestigiae “juggler’s tricks,” probably altered by dissimilation from praestrigiae, from praestringere “to blind, blindfold, dazzle,” from prae “before” (see pre-) + stringere “to tie or bind” (see strain (v.)). Derogatory until 19c.; meaning “having dazzling influence” is attested from 1913 (see prestige). Related: Prestigiously; prestigiousness.’
*Ah, Clicky… SA Vile… They really went to town on him after he was dead and unable to mount a defence…*
Thoughtful Man and Poppy returned from their afternoon nap. I was glued to my screen, constructing my post.
“Are you still at it?” he asked dumping the dog on my lap before taking his customary place in the Library.
“Hmm? Yes… did you have a good sleep?”
Thoughtful Man yawned and set Clicky to work. “No, the bitch took up most of the bed. Did you see that a train crashed in New York earlier?”
I looked up startled – I’d just been looking at a train video. “No. I’ve been doing this. What happened?” I opened a tab to check the news.
“We do not believe any group of men adequate enough or wise enough to operate without scrutiny or without criticism. We know that the only way to avoid error is to detect it, that the only way to detect it is to be free to inquire. We know that in secrecy error undetected will flourish and subvert”. - J Robert Oppenheimer.
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