Got a bit of a cold... Pt 2

Thursday 28 April: Day Seven. The miracle of healing is going on. For the first time, browny-green gunge comes out of my nose after I get up in the morning; this is the tipping point. I'm feeling much better, brighter, less rheumy, less of that ache in the backbone. Occasional cough; when I feel one coming on, a gulp of air in the lungs held for 20 seconds or so tends to stifle it effectively. I stay in all day (fourth day in a row) and decide to do no exercise at all. 

Friday 29 April: Day Eight. And so, a week has gone by, and the cold, left untreated (other than plenty of tea with lime and honey plus good sleep) has done the trick. Still a leftover sensation of 'dustiness' in the sinuses. The pharmaceutical industry has earned zero złotys off of me, as I've not bought any 'remedies' which do nothing in terms of dealing with the virus, only provide some relief from the symptoms, which in any case, were not debilitating. For the first time since Sunday that I've gone out for a walk (10,000 paces done) and a full set of exercises done. A bit of sunshine helps enormously, lifting the spirits.

Saturday 30 April: Day Nine and I declare this cold over! Walked 20,000 paces today (from Jeziorki to Nowy Podolszyn and back); full set of exercises. No cough, very slight nasal congestion remains. Moments during the day when I remember that I'm getting over a cold - a handful. Still, got to take care over the next few days, build up the immune system. Rest/sleep; healthy diet; exercise/movement. 

Unwillingness to exercise due to a need for physical recuperation (as opposed to outright laziness) is a good marker for how unwell you really are. This cold meant one day with zero exercise and four consecutive days without a walk. Last March whatever the mystery bug that got me (Covid? Slight fluiness, main symptom tiredness/fatigue) resulted in five days of zero exercise and five days without a walk in a row. My heavy bout of flu in January 2018 was the record during my time of record keeping - nine days without exercise and seven days without a walk.

Here's the worry though. Colds are the result of two things - one, a weakened immune system, two - a virus that latches onto a body with a weakened immune system. It turns out I caught a cold, not Covid. I've not ready anywhere how prevalent colds are compared to Covid - are they ten, a hundred times more common than Covid - even at the height of the pandemic? If I can catch an airborne virus like a cold, I could have also caught Covid. 

Where did my immune system weaken? Over the Easter weekend, I guess - Easter Monday, a sunny day but with a strong and chilly north wind. Too warm for three layers - too cold for two. I felt after an hour and half out in the fields photographing horizons that I had been thoroughly chilled in my shirt and jumper. Lots of alcohol at the end of Lent too, then on 20 April a business mixer - 120 people at the Bristol Hotel, again, lots of alcohol and contact with many people, no doubt someone with a cold out there in that crowd (though I watch out to avoid coughers and sneezers). Still, it's over, but it's one worth contemplating in terms of whole-life health maintenance.

Time for gratitude. Thankful for being back to the default state - ease (as opposed to disease). It's good to feel well; short and mercifully light viral infections make one grateful for good health; complacency needs to be kept in check.

The war in Ukraine is still ongoing; personal tragedies occurring in people's lives because of the madness of one man who needs taking down - quickly.

This time last year:
Identified - photographs from long ago

This time two years ago:

Things will never be the same
[and guess what - they won't.]

This time three years ago:
April's end, summer's beginning

This time four years ago:
Best April ever?

This time five years ago:
The search for the Gold Train: Day Two

This time six years ago:
Semi-automatic (short story)

This time ten years ago:
So good to be back in Warsaw

This time 11 years ago:
At the President's

This time 13 years ago:
Summer's here, and the time is right...

This time 15 years ago:
Why I'm staying in Warsaw

Got a bit of a cold... Pt 1

FOR POSTERITY

Friday 22 April: I could feel it coming on from Thursday night to Friday morning - the first symptom being a tickle on the roof of the mouth - the palate; unmistakable. I could not remove it by the power of mind. A cold was definitely on its way... Friday I went into town to meet a member (as well as excellent fish-and-chips lunch, an added benefit was the gift of a hooded sweatshirt - my first since student days). Getting home, I checked my temperature, it was 36.3C. I was sure that the cold virus was spreading. No alcohol, 9.4K paces, no press-ups or sit-ups, all other exercises done. Sauna.

Saturday 23 April: Woke up feeling slightly bunged up, a tiredness in the backbone, slightly shivery, otherwise OK. Temperature 36.1C. Crap weather, no walk. Full set of exercises. Zero alcohol, plenty of tea (0.6l glass, strong black tea with lime and honey, three of these a day). Sauna. Comfortable sleep

Sunday 24 April: Third day with cold, blowing nose more frequently, clear nasal secretions. Sneezing more often. Nice weather, so long walk (16K paces). Zero alcohol. Full set of exercises. Another long zoom call with family in UK and Poland re: stuff from my father's house (what stays and what's shipped to Poland). Temperature 36.6C. In bed by 22:30. Nightmare (about the civilians trapped in the Mariupol bunker) during the wee hours. Not a good night.

Monday 25 April: Working week starts. Nasal secretions still clear and watery. Will I be well enough to go to Poznań on Thursday? Meeting has already been postponed once... Temperature 36.1C. No Covid symptoms. Very slightly shivery. Taste and smell normal. Busy day work-wise; no time for walk even if I did feel OK, which I don't - that spinal achiness still there. Four sets of exercises (no sit-ups, planks or back extensions). No alcohol. Go to bed at 23:10 - too late.

Tuesday 26 April: Fifth day, I still do not feel that the cold is developing as it should. This ought to be the 'hump', after which the process of convalescence can begin - but no. Congested, runny nose, first symptoms that it's in the lungs (infrequent cough). Suppressing the cough by breathing in and holding a lungful of air for 15-20 seconds. Works well. Temperature 36.4C. No walk, only felt like doing two sets of exercises (squats and a few press-ups). Sauna. No alcohol. Sprinkle a few drops of Amol on my pillow. Bliss! Better than Vicks or Karvol. Love the smell, warming on the skin.

Wednesday 27 April: Good sleep (a sauna helps - I wake for a wee but once in the night - at 04:20 - rather than two or three times - bucket-loads of lime tea sweated out through the pores). I blow my nose - it continues to run clear. No way can I travel to Poznań tomorrow - I cancel. Busy day - TV appearance (online); opening and closing a webinar, and monthly board meeting online. No walk once again, no alcohol. No exercise (only the third time this year). The sixth day passes. The old line about a cold taking a week to get over treated or seven days if left untreated isn't quite right - for me it's usually ten days end to end, more than a week but less than a fortnight. In my 20s and 30s, my colds would pass leaving a dry cough that would last into the summer, but damp English climate to blame there. A lot of exercise going undone.

How will this cold resolve? Gone by next Monday? I genuinely thought last Friday that by today it would be on the wane and by tomorrow I'd be fine to go to Poznań. The weather forecast suggests sunny intervals and temperatures into the high teens for the next few days, but I still don't feel right enough to want to go for a long walk. I'm really looking forward to waking up and blowing out a noseful of thick green gunge - dead viruses and other detritus - which means the cold is beginning to go away. 

Being ill means suffering disease - dis ease, as opposed to ease. Discomfort that encroaches the consciousness. When aches and pains intrude upon your stream of consciousness and force their way into your train of thought. Has it been that bad? Not at all - I've had worse in recent years. This post is not written in self-pity, rather as a marker for the future.

This time last year:
Moon and bloom

This time four years ago:

The working week in town, in pics

This time six years ago:
Brexit: head vs heart, migration vs economy

This time seven years ago:
Golf course update

This time ten years ago:
The Shard changes London's skyline

This time 11 years ago:
In praise of Warsaw's trams

This time 12 years ago:
Plans for the railway line to Radom

[12 years on, the modernisation of a line it took 20 months to build, is complete]

Russia's army: not what we feared it was

Within days of the Russian invasion of Ukraine, observers could see that the invading army had many shortcomings. From the strategic (it was prepared for a three-day war, regime change, and being welcomed as liberators) and the doctrinal (the way, for example, tanks or infantry are used), to the operational (truck tyres, expired ration packs, poor wireless communication with the front line) it's clear that Russia's military leadership has (thankfully) failed to its reputation.

The world has moved on in many ways from WW2, when the Red Army seized Berlin. Some of the factors - and differences - were overlooked by Western analysts. Key is manpower. The generation of young men who fought WW2 was born at a time when the average Russian woman had a fertility rate of 7.3. The young men Putin is sending into Ukraine were born around 2000, by which time the average Russian woman was giving birth to a mere 1.23 children. In other words, Stalin had meat for the meatgrinder, Putin doesn't. (Having said that, neither does Ukraine. But the Ukrainian army isn't wasting its manpower like Russia's is.)

We could see outside Kyiv, the famous 40-km-long column, stalled for lack of fuel, less than 100km from the border. Logistics are crucial to victory. Without the 400,000 vehicles that America supplied to the USSR as part of Lend-Lease, the Red Army would not have been able to advance west at such speed in 1943-45. Of that number, 200,000 alone were Studebaker 6×6 trucks, the rest being smaller 4x4 trucks, Jeeps and Dodge Weapons Carriers. Below: a Studebaker US6 2½-ton 6×6 truck... 

...and the most-widely produced Soviet trucks of the Second World War era, the ZIS 5 and GAZ AA (left and right respectively below), outdated, less robust, and built in smaller numbers than those received from America. 

Russian logistics in Ukraine are the result of poor planning, poor training, poor maintenance, poor equipment and widespread corruption. Tanks stuck in the middle of nowhere without fuel, soldiers without rations because the campaign was to be over in three days. Many ammunition supply trucks were destroyed by Ukrainian fire because unloading shells is done crate by crate by soldiers, rather than removed from the truck by the pallet-load using a crane. Manual labour is cheaper, but it takes much longer - giving artillery-spotting drones a chance to locate and destroy their target - thousands of shells.

Russia's infantry-fighting doctrine hasn't moved on from the day of the mass charge against prepared positions. Note the long, curved magazine on the AK47/74 family of assault rifles. It cannot be fired by a soldier lying down - it's meant to be fired by a soldier advancing. But most importantly - the basic infantry unit, the squad, is without autonomy. The squad leader is not allowed to take the initiative - only to follow orders. The rigid top-down command-and-control system has been under strain due to poor quality communications equipment - senior officers have to move right up to the front line to get reluctant troops to advance - and get hit by Ukrainian artillery or snipers. Russia has lost ten generals in two months.

NATO doctrine has always focused on the autonomy of the squad. Like in any democracy, war-fighting should be done on the basis of teamwork and consensus, and not taking (bad) orders from the top.  Ukraine's armed forces - fighting for their country these past eight years - have accepted the NATO way of doing things. This leads to greater cohesion, morale and combat effectiveness. And reflects a healthier society - a network, rather than a hierarchy.

Another major factor hampering unit cohesion in the Russian army is continued presence of dedovshchina - the systematic hazing of recruits and conscripts by their elders. From Wikipedia: "Dedovshchina encompasses a variety of subordinating and humiliating activities undertaken by the junior ranks, from doing the chores of the senior ranks, to violent and sometimes deadly physical and psychological abuse, not unlike an extremely vicious form of bullying or torture, including sexual torture and anal rape. When not leaving the army seriously injured, conscripts can suffer serious mental trauma for their lifetime. It is often cited by former military personnel as a major source of poor morale." 

So - brutal stupidity, and stupid, counterproductive brutality. In close combat, the hazed can take revenge on their tormentors. Who knows where that bullet was fired from. An army formed of soldiers traumatised to the point of insensitivity is easier to order to be brutal to civilians or prisoners of war, which has negative consequences in the memetic war - the global struggle for hearts and minds. Which Russia is losing and Ukraine is winning, with its tractors and cats.

Putin drew back the forces that had been trying to capture Kyiv and reassigned them to the east of Ukraine, without much pause, with the bare minimum of new equipment - but without any of the root-and-branch reforms needed to create an effective fighting force. 'More of the same' is all Putin can muster. Reform of military doctrine means social reform - bullying and corruption are the very basis of Putin's Russia, dressed up in a nationalist ideology that has all the hallmarks of fascism.

The top-down corruption endemic in the Russian army has also played a major part - monies earmarked for research and development, for the modernisation of tanks and aircraft, were spent on villas and yachts. What was spent created a Potemkin army of T-14 Armata tanks and Sukhoi Su-57 'fifth-generation' stealth jet fighters that are only seen on parades. There were meant to have been 2,300 Armatas in service by 2020. Instead, there are now planned to be only 100 by this year; the first regiment of Su-57s is planned to become operational by 2025. [At least the money Germany didn't spend as planned on defence was diverted to social programmes.]

Russia's army, as they say, is "big and modern - just that the 'big' part isn't modern and the 'modern' part isn't big." Nevertheless, Putin has the ability to use nuclear blackmail - and this is a worry - even if only one in six of his missiles works properly.

This time last year:

Long wait for apple blossom

This time three years ago:

Electromobility - the last half-mile

This time four years ago:
It's binary. There's either a God or there isn't...

This time six years ago:
Work on the railway line, work on the golf course

This time nine years ago:
Kestrel on the roof

This time ten years ago:
Definitely worse in Britain

This time 11 years ago:
Miracle on the Vistula

This time 12 years ago:

Collapsing footbridge on Puławska

This time 13 years ago:|
A new dimension to plane-spotting

This time 14 years ago:
One swallow does not a summer make

Russian imperialism

This post is aimed at those useful idiots in the West who either support Russia or who claim they are 'neutral', because NATO is 'imperialist' which makes Ukraine just as bad than Russia. I was angered by a post on Facebook from an old friend who actually stated that Tony Blair is worse than Putin. [Blocked for good.]

Russia is an empire. An empire can be defined as "a political unit consisting of several territories and peoples, created by conquest, and divided between a dominant centre and subordinate peripheries". The difference between the current Russian empire and say, the former British or French empires, is geographic (it is contiguous, not offshore) and historic (the empire was punctuated by a period of being the 'Soviet empire'). But nevertheless, Russia is an empire.

At its peak in the 1860s, the Russian empire stretched well into Europe, with half of Poland, all of Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia, and (from 1809 to 1917) Finland, within it. But the empire also stretched into North America - Alaska was Russian until 1867. 

Today, the Russian empire - other than ethnic Russians - includes hundreds of indigenous peoples subjugated by Moscow over the centuries, Russified to a greater or lesser extent. Buryats, Komi, Yakuts, Ingush, Kalmyk, Chechens, deprived of their right to govern themselves, their languages and cultures crushed by tsars and commissars. 

Russia expanded eastward, conquering land at an average annual rate of the area of the Netherlands for 150 years. Hundreds of different nations were subjugated to the Tsar's will, and forcefully Russified. Serfdom - abolished in 1861- enslaved 23 million subjects of the Tsar (whilst in America, Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation legally freed 3.5 million slaves - and started the Civil War).

After defeating Nazi Germany, the Soviet empire extended beyond the farthest reaches of the Tsar's domain, with the subjugated satellite states stretching to the Elbe. By the Soviet times, the terms 'Russia' and 'Soviet Union' had become interchangeable in the West, with only purists and experts pedantically using the right term.

Example. I have a copy of Russian Self-Portraits by American photographer, David Attie. Published in 1978, it was a rare glimpse of ordinary people from behind the Iron Curtain. Attie set up a large view camera and full-length mirror in a studio; subjects were invited in to pose themselves and then press the shutter with a remote-release cable. They took Polaroid prints with negatives; the subjects would get the print and Attie would use the neg to print the photos for the book. This contained 84 self-portraits of individuals and groups. And here's the thing: the sessions took place in Kyiv (or Kiev as the book calls the Ukrainian capital). But the words 'Ukraine' and 'Ukrainians' are absent. There's only one mention (in the whole book!) - the Ukrainian Folk Ballet - suggesting cute folksy customs from bygone days. The words 'Soviet Union' and 'USSR' are also absent. Otherwise it's just  'Russians' in 'Russia'. It's as though a Chinese photographer visited Cardiff to take photographs of English people in England, and used them to represent the whole of the United Kingdom.

Russians tend to believe that Ukrainians are just Russians who've gone wrong - comedic bumpkins who speak funny who belong firmly within the Russki Mir. Because these 'Russians' have gone astray, choosing the West in preference to Mother Russia, they deserve nothing less than extermination, say a great many Russians (maybe even as many as one in five).

Who's dying for Russia? It's not ethnic Russians who are bearing the brunt of the fighting in Ukraine. On 6 April, the BBC’s Russian service compiled a list of names and regions of 1,083 of the 1,351 officially confirmed military deaths using official state and regional media sources. There was not one reported death from Moscow, a city of 13 million people, while 93 deaths - 9% - come from Dagestan alone. Buryatia has the next largest number of fatalities, at 52. [More here.] Imagine if in 1914 it transpired that the British soldiers killed at Mons, Arras or Namur were mostly from Ireland, Wales, Scotland or the Isle of Man  or Guernsey - and none were Londoners.

The Soviet Union's collapse was not followed by a period of national reckoning, as happened in Germany or Japan after 1945. There was no remorse, no attempt to describe what had occurred between 1918 and 1991- collectivisation, the Gulag, the Great Terror, the Holodomor - as wrong. Putin's popularity rests on perpetuating national myths - of the 'Great Patriotic War' (no one mention the Stalin-Hitler pact), the defeat of Nazi Germany, Sputnik and Gagarin - and a nuclear-armed empire spanning 11 time zones.

I can't find it now, but I recall reading a piece by an American journalist in Moscow about a taxi ride he took around the city. His driver, on hearing he had an American passenger, began to telling him how great everything was in Russia. When the American began listing the country's many shortcomings, the taxi driver changed tack. "Yes, you're right. It is a shit hole. Can you help me get a visa for the US?" The journalist said, helpfully, that it would be much easier to get a visa for Canada. The taxi driver spat on the floor of his car and said with disgust "I could never live in a country that's not a superpower!"

The British Empire faded away shortly after the crumbling of the Third Reich and the nuclear destruction of Imperial Japan. I can still remember 'Empire Day' at primary school being rebranded 'Commonwealth Day' after 1965, with children trooping around the playground carrying flags of the Commonwealth nations. But Russia insists - to this day - that its imperial sway holds dominion over Ukraine, Belarus, Moldova, Georgia and northern Kazakhstan. As well as - and it goes without saying - Buryats, Yakuts, Ingush, Kalmyk and Komi people. Russian imperialists would dearly love to include the Baltic states and Poland into the fold - but fortunately, we are in NATO now.

See: White Fever - my review of Jacek Hugo-Bader's book about Russia's Far East

This time two years ago:
Drainage ditches and the hunters' pulpit
(The pulpit collapsed last year)

This time three years ago:
Aviation the theme 

This time four years ago:
Five closed-off hectares of central Warsaw

This time five years ago
Progress by the ponds

This time nine years ago:
Kaczyński's ignorance, deceit or folly? 

This time ten years ago:
The British electrical plug reigns supreme

This time 11 years ago:
Easter, and the end of Lent

This time 12 years ago:
That Icelandic volcano

This time 13 years ago:
Views of Historic Toruń

This time 14 years ago:
One swallow does not a summer make

Lenten photo catch-up

Lent coincided with the first days of the Russian invasion of Ukraine, days of foreboding and unease. A couple of trips to town, several trips to the działka, and just the one business trip - to Łódź.

Below: the S7 is coming along nicely, but no new milestones since the opening of the viaduct between Jeziorki and Dawidy Bankowe.

 

Below: Łódź - 19th century wooden building, now listed. The centre of Łódź is changing - this is less than 500m from the EC1 and Brama Miasta developments, nearing completion. 

Given a few more years, Łódź will have turned into a splendid city, a mix of the ultra-modern and carefully restored heritage buildings, old factories and palaces. Below: corner of ul. Targowa and Nawrot.

Below: old sign on Platform 3 of W-wa Zachodnia station, mid-modernisation. Platforms 8, 7 and 6 are nearly complete, the suburban platforms will be last to be changed. Sign says 'to alien persons entry is prohibited'.

Below: Zamienie, sunset, approaching equinox. Looking west along the tree-lined ulica Zakładowa that ran through what was the Bio-Vet vaccine plant; after it closed the land was bought by developers, who have built many hundreds of new houses and flats here. As usual, amenities - including proper roads, pavements and public transport - have been neglected.

Back in the garden, Felusia makes a determined run for the garage door and lunchtime. Here I must note the unusually settled fine weather - between 10 and 26 March, there was hardly a single cloud in the sky.

On the działka, my Ukrainian guests, just about to set off to a new life in London after a fortnight in Jakubowizna. Maxim, his mum and grandmother behind him. 

First of April for some fresh snow, which fell heavily through the night, giving a thick cover the next day.

Below: by the 3rd, the snow clouds had passed, a gorgeous day. I visited the działka, and walking from the station the long way via Machcin II, became the first human to tread in this virgin snow. Deep and hard to talk through! Plenty of hare tracks though.

Below: my first stork sighting of this year, 10 April, Jeziorki.

This time last year:

Qualia memories - Edwardian railways

This time six years ago:

The great taste of Polish India Pale Ales

This time seven years ago:
Lublin - pearl of Poland's East

This time nine years ago:
70th anniversary of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising

This time ten years ago:
Tarkovsky's Stalker: a zone of my own

This time 11 years ago:
Warsaw's big billboards

This time 13 years ago:
Pace of development falters

Horizons

Good photography weather - brisk wind moves scattered clouds across the sky, dappling the landscape with patches of sun that will either illuminate the foreground or the horizon, or neither, or both, the sky itself capable of turning in some drama. Photos from three recent walks, all three being at least 16,000 paces (12km+). Of late, I've been catching a bus, buying a 20-minute ticket (3.40zł/ 60p)and walking home, extending my range and opening new vistas.

Below: lit by strong sunshine, the chimneys of Siekierki, 13km to the north-east. In the foreground farm buildings along ulica Złota, Nowy Podolszyn.

Below: Looking north-east from Podolszyn, sunlit blocks of flats in Ursynów; on the horizon, the chimneys of the Siekierki power station.

Below: looking at Zamienie from the west; four cranes suggest more high-rise developments on the edge of town. Nearest to the camera, Osiedle wśród pól, ('the estate among the fields') which will soon be engulfed by other estates. Note the distant airliner - it's approaching the airport from over Ursynów on RWY 29 as the usual RWY 33 (flying in over Jeziorki) is closed for maintenance.

Below: looking at Nowa Wola from the ulica Polna, which runs from Lesznowola through the fields of Podolszyn to Nowy Podolszyn.

Below: looking north from the fields between Nowa Wola and Podolszyn towards Warsaw, a LOT Embraer ERJ 175 departs from RWY 11, Okęcie airport. Note the shimmering heat haze - which surprised me, because there was a cold wind blowing in from the north.

Below: looking south from the new viaduct that connects Nowa Wola and Zgorzała; the S7 extension, flanked by service roads runs on the next junction, Węzeł Lesznowola.

Below: looking east from the new viaduct towards Piaseczno, housing estates of Nowa Wola and Nowa Iwiczna in between.

Below: sunset in the fields between Dawidy Bankowe, Zamienie and Łady

Below: ploughed field between Podolszyn and the Novisa Modern estate, under construction at the northern end of Nowa Wola, in the English style.

 

Below: Warsaw's skyline stretches out along the horizon - looking north along ulica Polna as it makes its way from Lesznowola via Podolszyn to Nowy Podolszyn. Asphalted at either end, there's still an 850m gap; this stretch at least is hardened, the next bit is little more than a muddy track.

Below: ulica Gryczna (lit. 'Buckwheat Street'), s dirt-track road leading from Podolszyn towards Zamienie 

For some topical perspective - wayside shrine, Nowy Podolszyn, a banner in Ukrainian colours, and on it the supplication from the Trisagion - 'From air [ie tempests], hunger, fire and wars, rescue us, O Lord'. On the notice board there's a leaflet in Ukrainian with information for refugees; next to in, in Polish, a leaflet explaining how local people can help.

Below: bonus horizon in the snow, taken on 2 April. A train of empty coal wagons heads back south along the electrified main line, between W-wa Dawidy and W-wa Jeziorki. Unusually heavy snowfall for April.

This time three years ago:
Helping others? Couldn't hurt

This time five years ago:
Local ornithology

This time nine years ago:
A hare in Wyczółki

This time ten years ago:
Warsaw by night

This time 11 years ago:

Tales of the Riverbank

This time 12 years ago:
Okęcie before the funerals

This time 13 years ago:
At the General's house

Easter everywhere - but not in Ukraine. Lent 2022: Day 46

Lent comes to an end at midnight, the top comes off the bottle of beer and the bottle of single-malt whisky, with some kiełbasa to go with. Very much Easter in a minor key this year; with a war going on across the border in Ukraine. Deaths, serious injuries, bombing and shelling of residential areas - a war driven by evil instincts that over the past several decades we hoped had been eradicated from the people of Europe.

War - the fear it generates, the anxiety and stress, the loss, the anger and the hatred it generates - distracts us from what should be our priorities; fulfilment of human potential.

Peace of mind is necessary for growth; this Lent has been spent under a cloud. Fears of a Russian nuclear strike recede as Western resolve seems to have restrained Putin somewhat, but firing a tactical nuke is still a card he might play. My sleep has returned to normal (I am no longer unable to fall asleep after waking in the night for worry about what's going on).

Easter will not arrive in Eastern Orthodox churches for another week. Because of the computational difference between the Gregorian and Julian calendars, Western Christianity celebrates Easter between one week (as this year) and five weeks (as will be the case in 2024) apart. I had been hoping that by Easter - Orthodox Easter - the war will be over, Putin will have been killed or overthrown, and the murderous invaders will have gone back to Russia. 

There's a week to go, but it looks unlikely that a policeman in his early 30s, named Grytsak (Грицак) will have shot Putin with a handgun outside a white government building with classical columns set among grassy parkland (I had this dream on 25 February this year, though uncertain in which Russian city this scene was set).

Gratitude normally expressed for health and prevention of misfortune now extends to gratitude for not being bombed by Putin; for our Ukrainian neighbours and their brave army to make it through the night.

We can but pray, earnestly, with intent, that this awful, evil war will end soon with the minimum of extra bloodshed or trauma. Until it does, I cannot fully devote myself to spiritual pursuits.

I hope there will be will be another Lent. At this moment in history, I can no longer take that for granted.

This time last year:
Climate vs weather

This time two years ago:
Seven lockdown sunsets

This time five years ago:
Easter everywhere

This time 12 years ago:
Strange days indeed (though less strange than these!)

[link to video of the blog post, courtesy of Nick Morris]

What is the point of it all? Lent 2022: Day 45

As we approach Easter, the summing up. I look up at the sky on a cloudless night and stand in awe of the Universe around me. Why does it exist? Why do I exist? What's it all about, this existence business? 

If we were not around to consciously observe the stars and galaxies - would they still be there? Well - objectively - yes they would. But subjectively - no. If a tree fell in the forest and there was no conscious observer to hear it, it would make no sound (because 'sound' is a perception, a stimulation of the sense of hearing caused by vibrations travelling through air). The very fact that we are here to observe the Universe is essential to its being.

Rationalist materialists would argue that the Universe did not suddenly pop into existence because one day a conscious observer evolved enough to observe it - but there's a growing body of philosophers and even scientists willing to hold that consciousness could well be a fundamental property, present across the Cosmos.

So - does existence serve any purpose? Why are we consciously observing a Universe? Why is there conscious life at all - rather than just a bunch of scattered barren rocks whizzing around stars? Why did a Big Bang occur, and where it is all heading to? If consciousness is something that, like matter, accretes to take on ever-larger and more sophisticated forms, then - I would posit - this is the purpose. Consciousness evolving. Spiritual evolution. Ever-greater levels of awareness spreading throughout the Universe.

These questions divide us. For some - including myself - there's a purpose to life. It is not a just a brief and meaningless interlude between eternities of oblivion. And central to this is the primacy of our consciousness; we are (I take it you, dear reader, having got here, are) aware of our existence and our place in spacetime. 

I would go so far as to posit that the very fact of that subjective conscious experience of existing is proof that there's more to life than the material world around us. As biological entities we are driven on by the demands of our egos, but we are able to stick our heads outside the window of this rushing vehicle and look around, getting bearings, seeing a bigger picture. We need to spend more time disconnecting the pure experience of consciousness from the ego, vain, demanding and infantile.

As the Lenten period comes to an end for another year, the quest to find meaning and purpose for life, our planet and its evolution within an unfolding Universe will stay as a regular (though no longer daily) thread on this blog.

This time three years ago:
Catholics vs Anglicans, Leave vs Remain

This time five years ago:
Lent's nearly over - what have I learnt?

This time eight years ago:
Automotive industry under fire again

This time 11 years ago:
Old Town, early spring

This time 12 years ago:
The atmosphere in the week after Smolensk

This time 13 years ago:
The accelerating pace of change

This time 15 years ago:
Antonov An-26 in the twilight of its career

Habit, discipline or obsession? Lent 2022: Day 44

As well as keeping a daily log of my exercise and diet, I've also been maintaining a pandemic spreadsheet for over two years ago. At 10:30 each day, I check the Polish health ministry's Twitter account, and enter the number of new cases and deaths into the spreadsheet. This has become a daily ritual; I have come to associate the entering of the data into the spreadsheet as a form of protection against the pandemic. As I do so, I am mindful of the fact that to date I have been spared its effects. Updating the spreadsheet, I express conscious gratitude for continued good health, and in the knowledge that misfortune lurks everywhere, often triggered by complacency, I am mindful of the need to take precautions. Even with the pandemic in decline.

Is this why I have not caught Covid yet? Or is it because I try to isolate as much as possible, continuing to wear a mask in shops and on public transport? Or a bit of both? 

Daily ritual can become an obsessive behaviour; my day would be incomplete without ensuring that my two spreadsheets are up to date. I have inherited this behaviour from my father, who kept spreadsheets (and paper records) of his stocks and shares, and his blood pressure almost up to his death. He stopped the spreadsheets when he started losing track of the formulas and input data - this was around his 96th birthday, though the blood pressure was noted right up to three days before his final admission to hospital.

If this may sound like a mild case of Asperger's Syndrome - perhaps it is, given that Asperger's is a spectrum condition. Certainly it's not debilitating, but it does make me wonder to what extent other daily rituals, which the neurotypical might class as 'focused self-discipline' rather than as 'obsessive' can also be generally considered as a positive trait. A daily exercise regime, for example?

We humans value determination as the most positive trait in our fellows. 'Winning against all odds' is a standard trope of most dramas, novels and films. The triumph of the underdog. Today, the world watches and cheers on the determined Ukrainians as they hold back the Russian invaders. Determination means not giving in, holding one's corner come what may.

Successful scientists and entrepreneurs show determination too. Focused finding on a solution to a problem, they work obsessively at resolving it, for the forward progress of knowledge, for the convenience of consumers. Obsessively? Or single-mindedly? Focus? Or restricted and repetitive behaviours and interests? This is where the notion of 'high-functioning' comes in...

We admire the determined - we don't like lazy slobs and quitters. Self-discipline - which means primarily setting and meeting one's own targets and deadlines rather than those imposed upon us, is the key to most successful people's success. Yet how much of that can be classed as obsession? Where does the border lie between good habits and obsessions? Or is it all in the point of view of the observer?

My "self-discipline, determination and good habits" are your "obsessive-compulsive behaviour issues" - where does one draw the line? Obviously, we turn things to our advantage, but this is an important question.

We are all so different to one another; hence my premise that everyone's way to God (assuming of course that they seek God) is different. We judge - but who are we to judge?

This time two years ago:
World's largest plane over Jeziorki
[destroyed by Russian forces, Hostomel, Ukraine, 27 February 2022]

This time three years ago:
Managing luck

This time four years ago:
Blossoms and pylons

This five years ago:
Weather bad, mood SAD

This time eight years ago:
Bicycle shake-down day

This time ten years ago:
40 years on - Roxy Music's first two albums

This time 11 years ago:
Twenty years, ten months, six days
[The Polish Third Republic has now lasted 12 years longer than the Second Republic. Long may it flourish!]

This time 14 years ago:
Swans still in Jeziorki

Spirit of Place and Metaphysics - Lent 2022: Day 43

To what extent are we people of place? I'm a Pole born in England, a Varsovian Londoner; my corners of these two cities are the district of Ursynów and the Borough of Ealing.

My dreams, as I've often related on this blog, span the two countries. One end of a bridge is in Warsaw, the other in London; Ealing Common and Shepherd's Bush are but a bus ride away from Góra Kalwaria. This is disjunctive cognition of setting, a common feature of dreams. Rarely do my dreams stray from some version of Britain or Poland; early this morning (as I wrote in an addendum to yesterday's post), I dreamt I was at Cambridge University but it was set on the side of a hill or mountain and featured bigger and grander architecture than the real Cambridge. Another frequent dream setting is a vast, dark, brooding Brictorian railway terminal, riddled with tunnels and passages, ramps and staircases, underneath a cast-iron and glass roof. Having passed through Paddington station daily for several years while studying and working in London, that makes sense.

Can a soul - a consciousness - attach itself to place by way of its qualia memories of it? 

Can qualia memories of place transfer themselves across generations? I remember when I first cycled through the area around which my paternal grandmother was born - Mogielnica, south-west of Grójec - having a strong, preternatural, connection with the landscape of gently undulating orchards. And although I have never been to the area in north-west Ukraine, pre-war Wołyń, where my mother spent her childhood, I can sense the spirit of place of early spring, wide muddy roads, silver birches on their sides.

From the outset, this blog was intended as a place where I could record my surroundings in words and photographs, with the aim of creating a beacon for the future; triggers for qualia memories.

The notion of where I'm from is very important to me. Roots here, roots there - but deep roots. Roots that are embedded in the soul. And so when I have exomnesiac (or xenomnesiac) flashbacks to another place in another time, beyond my history and geography, I take note. They are life-long, familiar and similar in quality, in klimat. If I had to pin them down, I'd place them in America from the 1920s into the late 1950s. It was a klimat long gone; a klimat I searched for on my first visit to the US in 1978 and could just about feel especially in rural America, not yet subsumed into identical strip-malls, flyovers and interstate highways.

Paradoxically, it was something I felt to be chimeric, growing up in grey West London; the qualia memories came back more strongly and more frequently on moving to Poland - to Mazovia - in the late 1990s. In London I tended to dismiss the flashbacks as mere imagination, having no terms of reference; no flat landscapes under blue skies, no rural homesteads with electricity and telephone wires stretched along the straight road. The nearest I got to it was the fenlands of East Anglia. See what I mean? Memories triggered in a way that no Alpine vista or Mediterranean island can do.

Are we rooted in place? Can we will our next incarnations to a geographically specific location? 

This time two years ago:
Lockdown stroll, S7 roadworks

This time three years ago:
Construction updates

This time nine years ago:
Pigeon infestation by Dworzec Centralny

This time 12 years ago:
Magnolia in bloom, Ealing

A future like this - Lent 2022: Day 42

A happy childhood - one of two children, planned, wanted and loved. A great education - every one of my teachers driven by a strong motivation to motivate - to get their pupils curious about the world around them, how it functions, its place in the Cosmos. An unquenchable desire to learn - rather than a need to pass exams or compete with other pupils - drives me on. With easy and unlimited access to the world's learning online, the curious child will not be held back, provided that it is continually encouraged.

Individual development is not just about memorising facts and marshalling them into insights to make sense of the world. It is also about creativity - music, the visual arts, storytelling. A secure childhood without bullying, without aggression (only whiffs of it from history books), a comfortable childhood without hunger, conflict or illness. People wonder how their forefathers were allowed to be fed with foods that harmed their health. 

Nations, nationalities, have become about culture, tradition and identity - it is pleasant to travel to witness different customs and landscapes in our neighbours' lands - borders between countries have become as meaningless as those between towns and villages. The last wars were fought a long time ago, some over ideological differences, some over borders - but that was when mankind was less developed and more aggressive.

We live long. We make music, we discuss, we travel - technologies today make jet airliners as obsolete as steam trains seemed after their withdrawal from service. We travel to the stars. We contact other spacetime-faring civilisations, that, like us, have matured, have emerged from a dangerous adolescence, communicating to share wisdom, scientific knowledge. Portals to other universes, dimensions, travel across time. Reaping the rewards of our understanding of physics.

Science is blending with spirituality. Religions remain as deep metaphor, wisdom embedded in ancient texts; some still practice but no longer are the texts taken literally, or used as the basis for aggression. Science no longer belittles the spiritual but remains open to the metaphysical as a direction for further research.

Driven on by curiosity and a desire to create, to advance ever closer to the One.

POSTSCRIPT, 13 April 2022: I dream I am studying at a university; it is like Cambridge, but bigger, grander, and set on a hill. Stretching up the hillside are multiple college quadrangles, 15th century architecture with pinnacles and gargoyles. Students everywhere, deep in discourse. I am researching the etymology of street names. To get to the library I need, I have to crawl through a narrow passage - that familiar birth-canal dream again!

This time last year:
Qualia memories: rural Gloucestershire, 1973

This time two years ago:
Lent 2020 - the summing up

This time three years ago:
Strength in numbers

This time six years ago:
Cultural differences: distance to power

This time ten years ago:
Painting the Forum Orange

This time 13 years ago:
That's what I like about the North

A better future - Lent 2022: Day 41

How do I see the Universe unfolding? How do I see our planet, our species, unfolding? Pretty much as it has been doing so far. Only faster! I am an optimist. From the cosmos expanding at ever-faster speed, the space between galaxies getting bigger thanks to 'dark energy', whatever that is - to the accelerating tempo of human technology... but are we getting wiser? Russia's brutal aggression in Ukraine, which seems to have the backing of most Russians, reminds us that human progress is two steps forward, one step back.

Will humanity ever rid itself of the capacity to do evil? And if so (I believe the answer is yes), will this happen because of an intervention (genetic modification), or are we capable of willing our own progress? Here, I'm not so sure. Humans are smart, but not smart enough. 

One of our greatest discoveries has been that of win-win. When we all get on with each other in some form of concerted cooperation, we advance far faster than in a might-is-right zero-sum struggle. 

The Network will triumph over the Hierarchy; our tendency to choose (or tolerate) ego-driven narcissists as leaders is petering out as we see from example to example that this doesn't work well for the nations that choose (or tolerate) them. Once Kim Jong-Un falls, it is most likely that North Korea will select a form of governance that precludes any future dictatorship. The gulf in living standards and health outcomes between North and South Korea is proof that there are objectively better and worse systems; the gulf between Russia (which unlike North Korea is blessed with natural reserves of raw materials) and the EU will be showing a similar dynamic.

I have written many times about longevity and how we are on the brink of a series of technological breakthroughs in medical science that will extend human lifespan greatly. I am also optimistic about human demographics - by the middle of the next century, we may well be living on a planet with a stable (or even slowly shrinking) population of around five billion. Middle-class lifestyle across Africa and other currently underdeveloped parts of the world will lower fertility rates to a sustainable level. Discomfort will have been eliminated; the bigger problem will dealing with those egos that demand luxury, unable to content themselves with mere comfort. The outrageous carbon footprint of the luxury lifestyle - regular long-haul flights, ocean-going yachts, palaces etc - remains a threat to our planet's climate.

To what extent will we be able to self-regulate ourselves towards net-zero? It will be more stick than carrot, I fear. But, by the skin of our teeth, I believe we will escape cooking ourselves to death. As a group, we may be complacent, lazy and stupid, but faced with the clear prospect of extinction, we will be prepared to sacrifice convenience for the long-term future of the planet. The longer we leave it, the more extreme the measures imposed upon us will have to be.

An important question we face is - are we alone in the Cosmos? Is intelligent alien life here among us? On balance, I believe that we are not alone; governments know this are are preparing society for disclosure. Slowly but surely. What impact will this have on us - on our science and technology? On philosophy?

And here we must reflect. I believe that it is far too early in our development for us to have direct contact with technologically advanced alien species. We are simply too primitive to gain from the experience. If anything, some clues in the field of renewable energy would be useful for us at this point in human development, but its something we will have to work out for ourselves.

I do believe that our ultimate destiny is to become a space-faring species; to do this properly requires an understanding of physics that we do not yet possess - and an understanding of consciousness that we have yet to evolve. And with it, a spiritual enlightenment, and a rejection of reductionist materialism.

This time two years ago:
Our own way to God

This time two years ago:
Fancy a drink?

This time three years ago:
Klimat change

This time seven years ago:
Wes Anderson's Central Europe (Grand Budapest Hotel)

This time ten years ago:
The Reader

This time 11 years ago:
Fertile ground for conspiracy theorists

This time 12 years ago:
That's what I like about the North

Fasting and temptation - Lent 2022: Day 40

Day 40? Surely Lent has only 40 days and this should be the end? A tricky one for the Church. For indeed, Jesus fasted in the desert for forty days and forty nights. Lent starts on Ash Wednesday and ends on Easter Sunday, this is 46 days, whenever in the calendar Easter Sunday falls, Ash Wednesday is always 46 days earlier.  The Church replies that Sundays don't count, and you can break your Lenten resolutions to eat meat, drink wine to celebrate the Resurrection of Christ. 

Now let's take a closer look at the Bible (King James Version) to see how the Temptation of Christ in the Desert was depicted in the synoptic gospels...

Luke, Chapter 4:

¹ And Jesus being full of the Holy Ghost returned from Jordan, and was led by the Spirit into the wilderness,

² Being forty days tempted of the devil. And in those days he did eat nothing: and when they were ended, he afterward hungered.

³ And the devil said unto him, If thou be the Son of God, command this stone that it be made bread.

⁴ And Jesus answered him, saying, It is written, That man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word of God.

⁵ And the devil, taking him up into an high mountain, shewed unto him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time.

⁶ And the devil said unto him, All this power will I give thee, and the glory of them: for that is delivered unto me; and to whomsoever I will I give it.

⁷ If thou therefore wilt worship me, all shall be thine.

⁸ And Jesus answered and said unto him, Get thee behind me, Satan: for it is written, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve.

⁹ And he brought him to Jerusalem, and set him on a pinnacle of the temple, and said unto him, If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself down from hence:

¹⁰ For it is written, He shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee:

¹¹ And in their hands they shall bear thee up, lest at any time thou dash thy foot against a stone.

¹² And Jesus answering said unto him, It is said, Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God.

¹³ And when the devil had ended all the temptation, he departed from him for a season.

Let's now look at the second full account...

Matthew Chapter 4:

¹ Then was Jesus led up of the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted of the devil.

² And when he had fasted forty days and forty nights, he was afterward an hungred.

³ And when the tempter came to him, he said, If thou be the Son of God, command that these stones be made bread.

⁴ But he answered and said, It is written, Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God. 

⁵ Then the devil taketh him up into the holy city, and setteth him on a pinnacle of the temple,

⁶ And saith unto him, If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself down: for it is written, He shall give his angels charge concerning thee: and in their hands they shall bear thee up, lest at any time thou dash thy foot against a stone.

⁷ Jesus said unto him, It is written again, Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God.

⁸ Again, the devil taketh him up into an exceeding high mountain, and sheweth him all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them;

⁹ And saith unto him, All these things will I give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me.

¹⁰ Then saith Jesus unto him, Get thee hence, Satan: for it is written, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve.

¹¹ Then the devil leaveth him, and, behold, angels came and ministered unto him.

The third of the synoptic evangelists gives but two verses for this episode in our Saviour's life, but confirms the sojourn's duration as 40 days and the presence... 

Mark, Chapter 1:

¹² And immediately the spirit driveth him into the wilderness.

¹³ And he was there in the wilderness forty days, tempted of Satan; and was with the wild beasts; and the angels ministered unto him. 

So many theological questions! If Jesus (as God) was omniscient, why did he follow Satan into the wilderness, and then up onto a pinnacle of the temple in Jerusalem, knowing that Satan would tempt Him? 

Not eating for 40 days is scientifically possible (without water, you'd die after three days). John the Baptist's diet of locusts and honey (specified by both Matthew and Mark) is eminently doable (honey-glazed grilled locust sounds appetising). Bear in mind that Luke 4 and Matthew 4 are both preceded by an account of Jesus's baptism by John the Baptist in the Judean wilderness, so this period of fasting didn't follow any feasting.

Note the repeated use by both Luke and Matthew of the phrase 'it is written'. Satan and Jesus like a pair of rabbis invoking the authorities in theological disputation. Satan: "It's written that..." Jesus: "Yeah, but it's written that..." In the end, Satan gives up, in Luke, 'for a season' (presumably to return again in the autumn).

We have three temptations: "turn stones into bread", "jump off the top of the temple, and your angels will save you", and "worship me in return for earthly power". What are they alluding to? In today's rational world, worshiping the devil in the expectation of power is something that conspiracy theorists would ascribe to attendees of the World Economic Forum at Davos; power is worshiped for its own sake. As is money.  

To put this into a context that I would understand - Satan would be tempting me with wealth and power in return for my rejection of any metaphysical Universal purpose, which I'd have to exchange for a belief in reductionist materialism. But I'm not tempted by wealth over and above what's necessary for a comfortable life (I have learned to distinguish comfort from luxury), and I believe that power should be devolved and not held in the hands of individuals. 

No - the temptations I have to fight are laziness and procrastination. They are my enemy. Lent helps with building strength of will through the deferment of gratification.

This time last year:
Long walk, back in the swing

This time two years ago:

Unconsummated memories

This time six years ago:
Speeches for Leaders, by Charles Crawford

This time seven years ago:
In Memoriam - those who died at Smolensk

This time nine years ago:
Warszawa 1935: 3D film reconstructs lost city

This time ten years ago:
Cats and consciousness

This time 12 years ago:
Smolensk - why did this happen?

This time 13 years ago:
Britain's grey squirrels turning red