Sunday, 22 June 2014

PEOPLE WHO HEAR VOICES ARE NOT LUNATICS

PEOPLE WHO HEAR VOICES ARE NOT LUNATICS.

Unfortunately, that is not what you may believe if you accept only what you receive from the ‘media’.
 
Yes, the ‘media’ would have you believe that individuals who hear voices are ‘psychotic’, ‘paranoid schizophrenic’ – even ‘violent paranoid schizophrenic’..

Have you ever met someone who says that they ‘hear voices’?  Will you stay and talk?  Will you run a mile because suddenly they might produce  a gun/cleaver/ machete… ?

If this is you, why not stop a while and meet me?  I have been hearing voices for more than 30 years without being ill (or chasing anyone with a hatchet) and I will introduce you to my book and its title

Listening to the silences 

in a world of hearing voices.


It has been published free on the Internet for more than 10 years, and from it, I get frequent contacts by letter or email from individuals who, without exception, hear voices.  Here are two emails that arrived within the last two weeks – read them, and examine for any signs of lunacy…  

This arrived from Kristin from Norway

Dear Mr. Vincent,

I’m very happy to have discovered your online-book and at moment I'm still at the beginning of the book. But I would like to write you by now, how grateful I am that you make your book free available for everyone. Thank you so much! :)

Since 2000 I’m hearing voices after I had been practicing with a textbook to educate the mediumistic sense. The exercises for clairaudience (clear hearing) were successful quickly, but then, I couldn’t interrupt that.

The consciousness of myself and my own thoughts help me at first to live my daily life but the voices harassed me very much and I couldn’t avoid hearing the voices.

After several years of searching and trial and error I began with the aid of mindfulness meditation to learn to elude from the voices better and better. The focus on my breath, my body or the activities that I exercised just helped me more and more to be with my attention by me and in the material world. I meditated, if possible, twice a day 5 - 10 minutes. I tried no longer internally desperately fight off the listening to the voices. I tried to be completely relaxed, let them be there and no further notice of the voices. The prior inner defense against hearing voices had this rather reinforced.

I did these things with time more and more easier, like automatically, and the voice became ever more silent and appeared less and less in evidence.

While falling asleep I used auto-suggestions such as: “I am completely safe and protected and don’t clear hearing” or “I am healthy and don’t clear hearing”.

I have also read about treatment with homeopathy much good, but I haven’t tried this by myself.

Now I am looking forward to continue reading your book. :)

I wish you all the best.

Yours sincerely

P.S.: Please excuse the terrible English - it's a mixture of my own poor English and Google Translator.

~~~~~


And this from Marianne in Canada, which she wrote after reading a poem I Don’t Believe In Magic that I have posted on my Blog: 
Dear Mr. Vincent,
First of all I thank you for writing about hearing voices and for making your book available online for free.  I've only read the first page but can see that reading your book will be beneficial to me as I've been hearing voices for twenty years or so.  I am amazed that you function so well in spite of voices and look forward to finding out more about the ways you get along with them.
Secondly, the poem "I Don't Believe In Magic" touched me deeply.  I've always carried a deep conviction that no evil, neither real or imagined, is bigger than my God and my Bible.  Sometimes things get pretty scary and I wonder if God and my Bible are really there for me but then things will happen to prove that yes, God is real and yes, my Bible wins over any spell book out there, like the old rock, paper, scissors game.... Bible always wins.

I can't concentrate very long on something like a book so it's going to take quite a bit of time for me to read the entire work and I hope to stay in contact with you during the process.  I'm sure a lot of questions will arise and, if you're willing, I would like to "pick your brain"  (that sounds pretty gross, I wonder whomever coined that phrase in the first place!) on all that is related to hearing voices and its affect on you and your life.
Take good care and God bless you.

~~~~~

So, did you find any signs of Lunacy?  Maybe you found two people who are different in their approach to life.  And maybe if you actually talk to folk whom you may meet and who hear voices, you will find ‘individuals’ – sensitive, intelligent people – individuals who are just that – individual, and prepared to think and live ‘outside the box’ that is the norm for the bulk of humanity.

Here is the poem that Marianne quotes –


I Don't Believe In Magic

by Duncan MacKellar

I don't believe in magic,
Or superstitious tales,
Or witches' spells and potions,
Made from newts and snails.


I don't have time for werewolves,
Or ghostly apparitions,
Spirits, ghouls and warlocks,
Or spooky premonitions.


Goblins, elves and angry trolls,
Dragons spitting fire.
Mere fables and make believe,
Cloaked in mist and mire.


Mysteries of the occult,
Are easy to resist.
I'm not afraid of monsters,
That really don't exist.


I've never seen a poltergeist,
Or proof of any haunting.
I'm not afraid of darkness,
While others find it daunting.


There is but one bewilderment,
From which I seek protection,
I've yet to find a mirror that will,
Cast my own reflection.

My book is free to download at

www.royvincent.org

ROY VINCENT

MID-SUMMER 2014







WHEN CLARRY TOPPED HIMSELF, NO ONE KNEW WHY - NO ONE...

WHEN CLARRY TOPPED HIMSELF,

NO ONE KNEW WHY…

…NO ONE.



Satellite television has brought me a fascinating window on a wider world and the opportunities to observe and try to understand people from a vast range of cultures - people whom one had seen, if one saw them at all, as ‘performers’ in documentaries or devised programmes and subject to the presentation and interpretation of the programmes compilers. 

Now I can watch them completely untainted by the intervening ‘editor interpreter’.  I watch them in their own dramas, chat shows, news bulletins and a variety of presentations and versions of ‘Who Wants to be a Millionaire?’  I look at faces and expressions, moods and reactions, but ‘look’ and ‘watch’ are the two operative words, for apart from sensing the general mood of the piece I have not the slightest idea of what is being said.  When I watch Chinese television there are subtitles – but they also are in Chinese. 

I would dearly like to know what Dunia and the people whom she interviews on Abu Dhabi television are discussing, because it appears to be serious and intelligent, but apart from words that sound vaguely like ‘Iraq’ there is nothing to guide me.  Worse still is a news bulletin when the person being interviewed is speaking English, but is then being talked over and the screen has rolling subtitles all in Arabic.


The world and outlook of those who are locked into their inner voices is something like this.  They have their own transmission received inside their head that no one else can hear or comprehend, while, viewed on the screen of life that is going on outside them, they see people, faces expressions, actions, moods and reactions, and try to interpret something that is far off.

A world that is almost unreachable from within a mind and body that are often numbed by the drugs that are meant to make life more bearable (but which often are there solely to ‘contain’ them).

A world with which they find it increasingly difficult to communicate.  So difficult, that attempts to do so may be abandoned altogether, especially when the inner world can appear warm and friendly.

Is it easiest simply to abandon them to their inner world and the companions that frequent it?  An inner world that can be welcoming, friendly, comforting – an inner world that suddenly can spawn terror and threat; create immeasurable anxiety; propose devilish and obscene compacts – compacts that if accepted can bring down an even heavier rain of threat and castigation from the unseen tormentors. 

One can go on and on in seemingly endless speculation, and offer insights and advice that may or may not have relevance to an individual – if indeed one knew that the torment was actually there behind the closed door that a life and the face fronting it have become.

It would be difficult to forget the time when my stable was being re-roofed.  Right to the fore of the action were the two Geordies – Big Derek and Brian.  They came and worked - and worked hard - for ‘readies’, and stayed until about one o’clock when they went to the King’s Head for a liquid lunch, and then possibly an afternoon fishing off the beach. 

One morning they came and they were immensely subdued - in fact, for such a big man it was odd that Derek seemed close to tears.  “Clarry’s topped his self” said Brian eventually.  Work was pointless, and they went off to the King’ Head for more appropriate solace. 

Clarry – or Clarence to give him his Sunday name – had farmed with brother Ronnie, until they had given up the farm.  But farmers never retire, and one met them here and there as they helped out on other farms - hedging, dykeing, hay-timing - or working in people’s gardens.

Clarry had retired to a cottage beside the main road and I saw him frequently as he worked around a friend’s premises.  This particular morning, his daughter had come downstairs, to a fire newly laid in the grate, a cup of tea part drunk and still warm, a sandwich half eaten, and, puzzled, had gone outside to find Clarry hanging.  And no one knew why! 

That was over ten years ago, and I don’t think anyone knows to this day.  Why?  There in his inner world something had thrown a switch – but he had not been ill that anyone knew about – certainly not mentally.  What was it that Clarry couldn’t talk to anyone about – confide - consult?

I thought of him in happier times, as, for instance, when the local Shepherds’ Meet and a meet of the Beagles had coincided, and the Brown Cow had been open all day – and Clarry hadn’t wasted a minute.  There he was, well into the evening, a huge turkey drumstick in his hand, beating time to the choruses of the hunting songs, and swaying perilously to and fro, and the picture of him swaying gently at the end of a rope is one that even now I find unbearable.

I have difficulty revisiting the time when I desperately wanted to die and escape from all that plagued my mind and the situation that I couldn’t understand but from which I frantically wanted to flee.  I wasn’t then hearing voices, but had seemingly insurmountable problems.  Why didn’t I just do it?  As I wrote earlier, it had to appear to be an accident, and I couldn’t devise one that I thought would be convincing.  Relevant to my thoughts about Clarry – I couldn’t talk to anyone, because I couldn’t put my inner agony into words. 

I vaguely remember once saying to a Consultant Psychiatrist, as I attempted to broach the subject, something such as “I wish I had a terminal illness” – thinking that that would be a way out that would not create problems for anyone.  “I suppose you want cancer” he said – and said it with a sneer; nothing else will describe his tone.  I never tried to speak to anyone about it ever again, and I have only recalled the painful times for the purpose of writing to you to help you to understand the torment in the unseen world behind the facade of a face, and a life that, seemingly, is being ‘lived’ successfully.

‘Writing to you’ – I began to write more then five years ago.  Some has come easy; some with the pain of unhappiness and disaster revisited.  I hope that it has been worthwhile in that it may help someone.  I began with the words of the diminutive Brazilian bishop, Dom Helder Camera - and cannot think of any that are more appropriate to end with.


Don’t get annoyed
If the people coming to see you,
If the people wanting to talk to you
Can’t manage to express
The uproar raging inside them.

Much more important
Than listening to the words
Is imagining the agonies
Fathoming the mystery
Listening to the silences

(And, with those words, in 2003,  I completed my Book.)


Yes.  Writing to you.  Yes, you.  It may be that you are the one to whom I was writing, whom I had in mind during all of those five years.

Chapter One bears the title “We had to destroy it to save it…”.

The ‘it’ in question was my mind.  And I had all of the material necessary to be able to write a full and minutely detailed account -  I had all of my medical notes covering a period of thirty years.

But it was only with you in mind that I could read and face the personal agonies within – and then write about them

To read and recall how, step by step, therapy after therapy, drug after drug, my life, my home, my career, my family were slowly peeled away – and then to recall how all of this had been the ‘gratuitous invention’ of ‘psychiatry. 

You see – there had been nothing wrong with me at the outset – other than uncontrollable diarrhoea – yes - uncontrollable diarrhoea.

There were times – many times – when I would have abandoned the whole project.  Even hoping that my computer would ‘crash’ and everything that I had written would be lost –
because I knew I would never start again…

And that was before I had even begun to think about writing about

 ‘Hearing Voices’ 

- which, after all, is the reason for writing in the first place.

But I always came back to you – yes, it is you again.  I used to say to myself “If I can help only one person – just one person – back to sanity, then it will have been worth it.”

And thankfully, it has been worth it!  Yes it has.  You in your various forms have emailed or written to me to tell me just what the book has meant to you.

Yes, you have been “Al….” a seafarer in the Philippines “…now you inspire me a lot.”  Or Igor in Moscow…. Monica in Mumbai who was desperately worried about the harm that anti-psychotic drugs were having upon her son.  (So many parents and carers have written as she did.)

You have been Anne-Marie who had been assailed by malign voices while in a plane returning from a very happy holiday.
 
Then again, you have been Rosey in Arizona, so worried for your son.

My heart went out to you, James, on Death Row in a gaol in Georgia, who could still find the will to write to me, in spite of a very uncertain future…

It was Steve, in Lancashire, who finally clinched it for me –

It was Steve who wrote the ‘magic’ words –

“You have saved my sanity”

So, if you are reading this and wondering what the book is all about, it is free to download on the Internet – yes, free.

Who knows – I may have written it for you.

LISTENING TO THE SILENCES

IN A WORLD OF HEARING VOICES



ROY VINCENT
MID-SUMMER 2014


Tuesday, 10 June 2014

I DON'T BELIEVE IN MAGIC...

I Don’t Believe In Magic

By Duncan MacKellar

I don’t believe in magic,
Or superstitious tales,
Or witches spells and potions
Made from newts and snails.

I don’t have time for werewolves,
Or ghostly apparitions,
Spirits, ghouls and warlocks,
Or spooky premonitions.

Goblins, elves and angry trolls,
Dragons spitting fire,
Mere fables and make-believe,
Cloaked in mist and mire.

Mysteries of the occult,
Are easy to resist.
I’m not afraid of monsters,
That really don’t exist.

I’ve never seen a poltergeist,
Or proof of any haunting.
I’m not afraid of darkness,
While others find it daunting.

There is but one bewilderment,
From which I seek protection.
I’ve yet to find a mirror that will

Cast my own reflection.


Saturday, 24 May 2014

YOUR HEALING/HARMING MIND - WITH REFERENCE TO SIR TERRY PRATCHETT


YOUR
  
HEALING / HARMING

   MIND

With special reference to

Sir Terry Pratchett



A sequence of events that, literally, were mind altering, has prompted me to write this short article.  

Apart from any alteration to my own mind, the episodes have provided clues that may have relevance in the study of mental ageing, breast cancer, and, possibly, to the onset of MS and Alzheimer’s disease.

By choice, and for a number of years, I have lived a solitary life in a very quiet and tranquil place, which is free from urban and other forms of pollution. 

I am not a hermit, for I have many friends either in person or by phone and email, but, for large parts of my days, I live deep in my ‘mind’.  Possibly lost in abstract, reflective or ruminative thought, which might then give way to writing, or which might contribute to my ongoing study of that fascinating topic – ‘me’.

Not in an obsessive, Narcissistic manner, but following my absorbing interest in the interplay between the mammal ‘me’, and the Johnny-come-lately intellectual ‘me’.

Here I am with all of my mammal evolution, still complete in its entirety and fully functioning – the result of aeons of logical development, and providing me with the tools of self-preservation, procreation and enhancement of the species, all of which should be in exquisite balance.  And here I am with my split-function human intellectual brain which, with its divisions, can succeed in screwing up and overriding the harmony that should exist - and do it to the detriment of my physical and mental health.

In the most simplistic way, for long periods of time, I live largely in my ‘right brain’, the centre of imagination and ruminative thought.  Even when engaged in such mundane activities as washing the dishes, I may be teasing away at the arguments and forms of words that subsequently I will go on to present in writing such as this.  So deep can I be in analytical thought that suddenly I realise that my breathing is very shallow, and that my body is physically tense and ‘polarised’ in one particular way. 

But, far from being a transient phenomenon, it may be my state of being for significant lengths of time, with the ‘polarisation’ becoming semi-permanent, and, which can be particularly noticeable in my breathing, which may have become not much more than a ‘whisper’.  (See final note).

Within my mind, I am visualising and verbalising.  But to my inner mammal, I am hearing sounds and seeing things and the mammal ‘me’ is actively seeking whatever it is that is causing this degree of attention in my right brain – and it is looking for it to my left hand side.  And it is preparing me physically to respond actively to whatever it is that might come from that direction.

My left foot and my right hand ‘close’ as if holding on, while my left buttock becomes taut, with the centre of tension at the ischium.  Likewise, the left testicle structure is tensed, and the left lower abdomen is retracted.  Meanwhile the senses of hearing, vision and touch in the right side of my head, become marginally less acute.

The right leg and right lower quarter stiffen, producing muscular tension in the thigh and ankle region, and in the lower abdomen, while the left upper quarter and arm also stiffen.  The whole, thus, creates strong muscular tension in the biceps, across my left breast and up my left neck, both internally and externally.
 
The musculature associated with my left eye and ear becomes permanently stressed, as the eye and ear strain to listen to and look at what, they are led to believe, may be a threat arriving from the left.

My bladder and anal sphincters tighten, together with a simultaneous ‘locking’ of my throat and neck at the level of my thyroid gland - with an unbalanced feeling of restriction, strongest on its left side.

The right eye and ear become ‘detuned’ - still retaining their proper function, but allowing greater concentration on the looking and listening to the left.

There is much more detail to which I shall return in an article that I have been trying to write for some time.  An article that will also describe the various strategies and exercises that I have devised to try to counteract the deterioration that must inevitably result if it all goes unchecked (remembering that I am 88, and yet still want to maintain my mental and physical faculties for as long as possible.)

Help, when it came, arrived completely unexpectedly and, one might say, bizarrely, in the shape of a three CD boxed set – a gift from a very good friend.

No, not music and the Mozart effect and all that, but in the form of a lecture or discourse that occupied all of the CDs.  And it was not the actual content of the lecture either.  With his title “The Biology of Belief”, Dr. Bruce H. Lipton began, and talked, and talked - continuously in a voice barely above a monotone, although somehow managing to imbue it with enthusiasm.

Slowly, logically, persuasively, non-stop through three CDs, he led through basic cell structure, proteins, cell membranes, DNA.  Building, building an argument that reached its climax in the whole person and the influence of the mind and beliefs upon its ultimate function.

But no! - it was none of that.  My experiences began within two minutes of my commencing to listen.  Listen I did, intently, because I was now in new territory and my friend had been so enthusiastic in making the gift.  And as I listened, I became aware that all of the locked in tensions, stiffness and semi paralyses were releasing and revitalising.  But it was not the result of what I heard.  No - here I was completely immersed in language, logic and coherent argument – I was entirely within the recesses of my left brain, and my inner mammal responded as it had evolved to do – to the ‘threat’ that might this time come from the now opposite direction.  And a new ‘polarisation’ began to establish.

And it did not happen just that once.  No: each time I listen, and within thirty seconds, the same changes occur.  I have become so bored with the arguments and discussion that I don’t listen in logical sequence – I simply switch in at random, focus entirely on his voice – and receive my therapy.  My left buttock and testicle (and all my genitalia) suddenly feel normal and in harmony: my left foot and right hand grip no longer and the sphincters begin to relax.  My right foot is restored to a feeling of normality, and hitherto unnoticed stresses across my left breast gently unwind.

I have ‘worked’ the sequence many, many times since the initial surprise event, and have observed many subtleties in where and how release and relaxation occur – far too many to describe in this short note.  To me, and in the general context in which I am writing, most significant is what follows the release of the sphincters.
 
The left shoulder loses its semi-permanent hunch, returning to the normal level for a right handed person, i.e. slightly higher than the right (See note at # ).  This return to ‘normality’ facilitates the liberation of the whole cervical spine and associated muscles, while the throat with all of its internal components becomes more free, resulting in an unquantifiable ‘release’ around the thyroid, and apparent increase in blood flow to and from the brain.

Tensions that hitherto were unobserved, having become part of my normal structure, now release in my left face, around the left eye and all over my scalp.  The feeling of mental well-being is remarkable.

Sometime ago, I read a note in which Sigmund Freud described a patient who, he believed, was in the early stages of MS.  In particular, I remember his comments following her statement that “My left eyebrow is numb, and I have trouble moving my right foot…” and his opinion that she was on a downward path from which there was no return.

I recall it from time to time when my own left eyebrow and right foot behave as I have described.  Fortunately, I know the cause, and provide relief, but my suggestion that what I observe and then correct may relate to MS, is strengthened when one now learns that within the development of the illness, one or both jugular veins becomes constricted – which relates to what I observe in myself.

Further, as it is sometimes asserted that there is a close link between MS and Alzheimer’s disease, what I detect in relation to blood flow and mental well-being may equally have relevance.

Much is being written and otherwise communicated about the development in Terry Pratchett of a condition that appears to be a form of Alzheimer’s disease.  With only knowledge that is in the public domain, I nevertheless see my analysis applying to him also.  Applying to a much higher degree, for his whole life appears to be devoted to his writing; writing that involves far more concentration and imagination than mine.

(See note on final page below referring to changes in his health)

Furthermore, he writes with four computer screens occupying his total visual focus for many hours.  The ‘mammal within’ does not habitually stare in forward focus.  Such a state is normally the result of confrontation, possibly against a foe.  Confrontation that normally is resolved fairly quickly.

The ‘mammal within’ requires wide-ranging peripheral vision and frequent eye movement.  I am fortunate in that where I live I have wide horizons as soon as I step outside, and the movement of birds, cattle and horses, trees and clouds, and I can sense the benefit that I derive as my eyes are constantly moving and changing focus. 

I well remember a recent winter and the time when it was just changing into spring.  It had gone on for so long – grey, wet, cold, with very little incentive to go outside, and with the vision confined to TV and computer screens and print.  Then one day I took off for my nearby shore, on a day of almost unbelievable clarity and light – and the liberation was astonishing.  My eyes ranged back and forth along the absolutely pin-sharp horizon ‘luxuriating’ in their liberation: while the feeling within my whole self amounted almost to a rebirth.  It was unforgettable.

Yes – unforgettable.  And unforgettable was the ‘purging’ of my lungs with ocean air.  Air straight from the North Atlantic – pure and unpolluted – and ‘alive’.  Air that seemed to sweep around my brain – scouring away any remaining dross.

As I try to bring this article to a logical conclusion, many other examples jostle for attention, all worthy of inclusion, but the article would become too long, so I’ll confine myself to just two.  The first has been described and analysed many time in my writing about voice hearing.

I have heard voices and experienced many other allied phenomena for more than thirty years, fortunately without having become ill, and I describe and analyse my experiences in my book* and Blog.  I assert – with absolute certainty – that the phenomena are created by spiritual intrusion into my mind and body.

I have experienced ‘intrusions’ of different natures and purpose, from the absolute benign to the absolute malign.  The former, in fact, do not intrude, and have contributed much to my understanding of the spiritual state of being.

The malign have but one purpose, and that is to attach, subvert and ultimately take over a person’s mind and functions.  In my book, I describe a number of different ‘ploys’ that are used as they attempt to do this.  Some are directly confrontational and aim at domination.  Others are simple yet subtle.  The constant chattering, nattering, “…do it this way”, “why don’t you…” may be in one’s mind continuously from one’s first thoughts on waking, until sleep takes over again.  One finds oneself ‘hearing’ without specifically ‘listening’ although the effect can easily be the same.  The ‘intruders’ use the faculties of the ‘right brain’, and the resulting consequences of the constant voice in the mind are identical to those that follow one’s own  inner right brain thought processes and mental imaging, and which I have described above.

I live alone and am not undermined because I understand what is happening.  Many voice hearers live lives of isolation, do not understand, and consequently may become very ill.

The second example that I have chosen from all those that ‘jostle for attention’ relates to what may be dire physical consequences that follow from the permanent cross-body polarisation.  I have drawn attention to the permanent stresses that may exist in the muscles across my left breast.  For a number of years I gave assistance at a cancer care centre where the so-called Bristol Therapy was promoted.  There I found a general consensus that the site of a woman’s first breast cancer was likely to be on the left in a proportion of four to one.  Breast cancer was the most frequent form that one encountered, and I can recollect just one person there whose first episode had been in the right breast.

My late sister-in-law succumbed to cancer of the right breast, and she told me that her surgeon had said that she was in the only 20% of women who initially developed the illness on the right side.  She was very ‘verbal’, and possibly a strong ‘left brain’ candidate.

Essentially, I am simply making the proposition that the stresses of which I write may be inhibiting natural circulation of blood and lymph and may be creating a fertile ‘soil’ in which the tumours can develop.  Incidentally, among my friends and acquaintances who have developed mastitis following giving birth, in every one it was the left breast that became inflamed.

POSTSCRIPT – SIR TERRY PRATCHETT.

Since I wrote the above, Sir Terry has dropped out of the headlines, to the extent that I had to look in the Internet to find out whether or not he is still alive.  I was delighted to discover that he is, and is still writing. 

This is what Wikipedia reports –

Because of his condition, Pratchett currently writes either by dictating to his assistant, Rob Wilkins, or by using speech recognition software.
In September 2012 Pratchett stated in an interview "
“I have to tell you that I thought I’d be a lot worse than this by now, and so did my specialist."
In the interview it was stated that the cognitive part of his mind was "untouched", and his symptoms relating to the condition were physical (which is normal for PCA) and that putting a book together was actually better and easier now that it was done by dictation.

In my own interpretation, the ‘thinking, planning, imagining’ have been brought together with speech, involving both sides of the brain, bringing new life to the inert and under-used ‘left brain’ functions of speech, language and logic, and hence to the whole person.
Also – and this is so fundamentally important –
as he speaks, he breathes.

Yes, no longer the shallow ‘whisper breathing’ of concentration about which I wrote earlier, but ‘speech breathing’ bringing with it, life and possibly rejuvenation to the oxygen starved brain.

 ROY VINCENT
(Revised May 2014)



# Described in detail in Chapters 13 & 14 of my book, and illustrated with photographs of nude models.

* ”LISTENING TO THE SILENCES in a world of hearing voices.”
Free on www.royvincent.org  and in paperback.










Sunday, 27 April 2014

THE ORIGINAL "BLACK BOX" - LOOK NO FURTHER

THE ORIGINAL “BLACK BOX”

LOOK NO FURTHER...

Each week in the UK RADIO TIMES magazine, there is a ‘dictionary corner’ feature in which a Lexicographer responds to queries from readers in which they ask for explanations of the origins of words/phrases.

The entry for the magazine issue for April 26th prompted me to write what follows:-



I read the DICTIONARY CORNER (Radio Times, April 26) about the origins of the term ‘black box’, with growing disbelief that someone could write so much twaddle about a topic of which they are so completely ignorant.  There was just one actual fact – the flight data recorder is orange and not black – so why ‘black box’?

I first encountered the term when I began my training as a radar specialist in the Royal Navy during World War 2.  I am now well over 88.

This was a time of major advances in electronic technology – radar was in its infancy – and much was going on in the research field.  This was also long before transistors and miniaturisation, and involved thermionic valves, large resistors and capacitors and transformers, all of which had to be assembled gradually into working circuits. 

Each element of a circuit was developed individually on a 30cm square board – known as a ‘breadboard’ – because it resembled a domestic breadboard.  As the circuits were refined, breadboards were joined together until a full working unit was complete.  Everything was then put together on a metal base or chassis for further refinement.

Eventually, the unit on its chassis had all of the bugs removed and then the chassis was given its ultimate container, or box.  The box had a stove enamelled front with all of the controls and indicators.  The stove enamelling was always of one colour… like Henry Ford’s original cars – you can have any colour as long as it is….

YES, DEAR CHILDREN, WE HAVE NOW ARRIVED AT THE ORIGINAL BLACK BOX….!

The complete radar equipment, gunnery control or what have you was then assembled for the presentation to the Top Brass of the Services, Ministers of State, and procurement officials for their approval and ultimate funding and manufacture.

The Boffins who had designed and made the gear were also assembled, and the Chief  Boffin – knowing that the assembled onlookers wouldn’t have a clue about the electronic content of the units spread out before them – would begin with the immortal phrase – NOW GENTLEMEN, WILL YOU PLEASE JUST CONSIDER THESE AS A SERIES OF BLACK BOXES - - -!!!

YES, THE ‘BLACK BOX’ EXPLANATION HAD JUST BEGUN – EVERY INNOVATIVE ELECTRONIC DEVICE WAS A ‘BLACK BOX’ WHEN IT CAME TO TRYING TO EXPLAIN ITS FUNCTION TO THE LAITY.

AND SO IT WAS WHEN THE TACHOGRAPH WAS FITTED TO LORRIES AND BUSES, AND SO IT WAS WHEN AIRCRAFT BEGAN TO USE FLIGHT DATA RECORDERS.

BUT TO CONTINUE TO CALL A THING A BLACK BOX WHEN YOU KNOW THAT IT IS A FLIGHT DATA RECORDER OR TACHOGRAPH, IS JUST THE SAME AS SAYING ‘GEE GEE’ WHEN YOU KNOW THAT IT IS A HORSE !  

One unfortunate consequence of an association with the OED is that readers might assume that the Lexicographer's ‘analysis’ carries the OED imprimatur – and actually believe it.
(OED = OXFORD ENGLISH DICTIONARY)

ROY VINCENT  APRIL 2014





Thursday, 6 March 2014

WI - FI + LAP-TOP = PROSTATE CANCER ?

WI-FI + LAPTOP = PROSTATE CANCER ?

My daughter and her partner, Keith, have been together for 37 years.  Two days ago, Keith was told that the prostate cancer that he has been trying to combat for about 18 months, is now terminal.

All that is left to them is palliative care at home and “weeks or months” for a longer or shorter “goodbye”.

Keith is now 56, and did not have the ‘classic’ symptoms of frequent and difficult ‘peeing’ through the night.  In fact, the prostate wasn’t even on the ‘radar’ during the time that he was receiving treatment for an increasingly painful lower back.

With no obvious cause and increasing pain, Keith’s GP ordered a speculative psa blood test – with a result that was ‘astronomical’.  Bone scans revealed that the cancer was already in the bones of his upper torso.

Various forms of hormone therapy, radiation and chemotherapy have produced minor remissions.  But without the hoped for success.  With the inevitable outcome.

Identifying a possible cause would probably have been treated as a pointless exercise – which does not prevent me from speculating. 

Keith is a tall, robust man, who drinks very little, and hasn’t smoked for many years.  As a ‘peripatetic’ music teacher serving five schools, he is highly valued and strongly dedicated.  Which meant bringing work home.  Which meant sitting companionably with my daughter on their settee, with a lap-top computer, naturally on his lap – and a Wi-Fi connection .

Where-else would the Wi-Fi transmissions go, but through his sacrum and lumbar spine, his genitals and his prostate gland?  (It will pass through the walls of a house, so bones present few problems.)

My personal connection with electromagnetic (em) radiation started when, aged 18, I began my training in Naval radar in WW 2.  (I am now in my 89th year).  Demobilisation and University brought me a degree in Electrical Engineering, followed by work as a measurement specialist in the nuclear industry.  Thus I am no stranger to em radiation and to its many and well-recorded dangers.

Personally, I am very, very sensitive to these forms of electrical radiation, and am unable to tolerate Wi-Fi anywhere near me (fortunately, my home is isolated and I can avoid most forms of radiation.)  However, my interest remains very much alive, and I keep it fed with the writings of such experts as the late Dr Robert O. Becker MD, and Dr Cyril Smith, together with some of the many entries and discussions that exist on the Internet – which is where you will find so very much more than I have attempted to convey in this short note.

(I shall leave it to you to picture what might happen to the reproductive organs of any female who sits with Wi-Fi and a lap-top on her lap – or to a foetus that might be within her womb…)


Roy Vincent 6th March 2014 

This Blog contains other posts that you may find interesting, such as the one entitled "Earth Currents - Cause of Geo-pathic Illness"

Also the one that describes the problems associated with communication with nuclear submarines. 



Wednesday, 11 December 2013

RACING MADLY INTO DEMENTIA...

The early onset of Dementia has been recorded increasingly Worldwide, and large sums of money are currently being allocated to research into the phenomenon.

Much money can be saved, and many minds can remain healthy and active if only sufficient attention is given to another and surprisingly parallel 'phenomenon'.

By which I mean the rapid and Worldwide increase in the use of the drug named STATINS.

More and more, these are being prescribed as a 'precaution' to limit cholesterol,  rather than as a medical necessity.

They are being prescribed almost like sweeties and candy, and, seemingly, without sufficient concern being given to the seriously adverse side-effects - which are many.

Just look up 'Statins side effects' on Google, and you will be overwhelmed with report after report. 

This is a brief summary of what you will find - and there are no prizes for identifying those side-effects that mimic dementia.


STATINS SIDE EFFECTS



Gout and/or elevated uric acid.
Peripheral neuropathy.
Myopathy.
Insomnia.
Loss of libido.
Impotence.
Heart palpitations or arrhythmias.
Depression.
Memory loss – short or long-term.
Transient global amnesia.
Chest pain.
Neck and shoulder pain.
Fatigues.
Migraine headaches.
Digestive disorders.
Rabdomyolysis.
Trouble walking – either shuffling or balance.
Hand tremors.
Slurred speech or trouble finding the right word.
Dizziness.

Sciatica-like pain.

When you have had time to analyse these, and wonder whether you yourself might be taking Statins and speculate whether your own faculties may be deteriorating, why not continue into the earlier Post on this Blog - the one relating to nuclear submarines -  where you will find another, and seemingly bizarre explanation of what may be the cause of so much mental ill-health World-wide.

That Post will be updated shortly, so please keep it on your reading list - and tell your friends.

GOOD HEALTH!!!