... but I stopped. Now I'm a dad, and may blog again...

Sunday, November 03, 2013

Leg pain plus sleeping equals dreaming about leg pain. I don't have any ongoing problem with leg pain (neck and shoulder pain however, that's another story) but I occasionally have dreams where I am attempting to walk somewhere and every step I take is agony. I move slowly, one step at a time, holding myself up against walls and fences, my destination vague and unreachable. When I wake up there is invariably a dull thud in my legs, a generalised ache causing wobbliness and uncertainty, requiring minor adjustment by moving into a more comfortable position. It's no biggie, hardly worth mentioning really, it's just one of those things, such is life, we just pick ourselves up and move along, nothing to see here.

Then I made the mistake of reading a bit about Unit 731, the secret Japanese military operation to perform unspeakable vivisection experiments on Chinese citizens during World War II, during which stomachs were removed without anaesthetic and oesophagus's were sewed directly onto the intestine, and by the end of the war 500,000 people were dead as a result of this group experimenting and dropping bombs full of plague fleas, but most of the perpetrators were never punished, due to the supposed value of their results, and given immunity from punishment for war crimes and crimes against humanity in exchange for their dubious and horrific results.

People are awful.

There is a dog running in the park outside my house. It chases a ball and wags its tail, and bounds along happily, its ears blowing and bouncing in the wind. It might stink of wet dog, and shit in the street and on the grass where children play, and cover furniture with greasy hair, but it will never organise and carry out the mass extermination of another group of dogkind. Yorkshire terriers would never implement a final solution in their vile war against Doberman Pinschers, shitzus would never enslave and work to death millions of poodles. They just stink, and shit, and chase balls in the park. Squirrels are too disorganised to make a final push against the pigeons or the magpies, they're just not generally that way inclined.

What's my conclusion here? No conclusion. Just some stuff about a dream, my legs, some war crimes, and some animals I can see from my window. An average Sunday morning. Next lunch, then reading and writing.

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