adding your life to the future

I dont know about you folk out there but...I feel that documenting your life in diaries/photographs/film is so important. something to offer your future family members. in fact I'd say you owe it to them and the affordability of modern technology means theres no excuse not to. Ever since I was given my first Brownie stills camera as a child by my loving parents I have been fascinated by being able to capture a moment of life forever in that little black plastic box. all you had to do was ensure the thing had a roll of film inside and a small click of your finger captured a moment of life in glorious technicolor..isnt that magic!? plus the image you have plucked from that thing called 'Time' which is forever moving forward doesnt ever age or decay. its really magical. To fast forward a little that magic is extended by moving pictures/film and for the past 30 years of my life I have tirelessly endeavored to grab as much 'Time' as possible into my little magic black box. that has included family milestones like birthdays..holidays..Christmas times etc plus those little classic moments of life things which were unplanned and always turn out to be the best clips of film. I have such things as sitting around the table for a family meal. my children growing from a baby..the first walk...feeding time with messy face ha...first day at school with tears..the first little boy/girlfriend holding hands so innocently etc how you not capture such experiences forever? all this leads onto a worrying problem if you value such family treasures that will not only be enjoyed into ones old age when memory fades but also be enjoyed by other family members in the future when you are dead and buried, the problem if fast changing technologies today and future proof archiving of these family treasures...so very important. todays technology relies on the slim shiny plastic digital disc called dvd or blue ray disc. Remember when this disc first emerged it was promised to last a life time? that you could scratch it..spill tea over it...throw it around etc and still it would play. well it turned out to be exaggerated and mostly until. how long is a lifetime anyway? some marketing men proudly stated they would last at least 50 yrs. a few years later this was reduced to at least 20 yrs. since then these claims have been discredited...so whats the truth? can we trust our most valuable memories to these slices of shiny plastic? Many experts now say no you cant. that the digital technology isnt a future proof stable base for long term storage of data. that there are inherent flaws in the burning/recording process. that time ravages slowly deteriorate the inks/dyes used on dvd discs, that temperatures also effect storage etc so in reality we were conned in the beginning by Corporate marketing men..no surprise there then. my family memories are important to me so...I do my best to secure them by....ensuring my recorded discs are stored away from sunlight and every day house dust. that the temperatures even. I have recorded dvds now that are 10 yrs old and recently I have started to play them back. what I have found is that one in every 10 discs after 10 years is starting to fail. this means bits of film have dropped out..or broken up. some freeze the picture..others are rejected half way through playing etc so those of you who do the same as me beware. I am currently copying all my stored discs onto new blank ones via my dvd/blueray player/recorder. easy to achieve as my recorder has a built in hard drive so you just transfer film from old discs up onto the hard drive and re-burn onto new discs. my theory being the newly copied discs should last another 10 yrs. on top of that I am making two copies of everything on different brand discs just in case one type fails down the road. also I am burning two types of blue ray discs again different brands and at different quality settings and burn speed. so in essence I shall end up with 4 copies of each film. bit over the top one may say? but arent these memories important? I am thinking of also archiving my films onto an external hard drive which are reasonably cheap these days on places like Amazon. one issue with external hard drives for archiving long term is to remember that the internal mechanisms inside that drive the hard discs will fail over time if not used so...dont just throw it in the cupboard and forget about it for years no..it needs to be run every few months to keep the cogs oiled up. hard disc drives should not fail like dvds as they are designed to hold material longer. but that doesnt mean they definitely cant fail they can...just less chance of it happening. what about flash drives and memory cards for long term archiving? I have little experience of these. longest I've had film stored on a memory card is 3 years now and it plays very well. can anyone suggest any other ways of secure archiving? I think we owe it to our childrens children and beyond when we are long dead to show them our family moments on film dont you?? CALLEN.....

I am angry......

I am angry! that doesnt mean I could turn violent at the flip of a coin NO.....although I've been known too in the past. I'm no sludge when it comes to defending my territory. its just when I feel anger I'm not a nice person to be around...nor am I in this negative state of mind very often. although anger is a natural emotion it normally has to be triggered by some form of other negative human behavior toward oneself. that happened to me last weekend. Let me explain......I was out socially enjoying a live band. had a lovely forefilling evening too. end of the night I made my way back to where I had parked my car just after the stroke of Mid-Night. it was a town out of my area I had visited and I took the trouble to park in an area away from the mainstream town centre mayhem. what I didnt take into account was there was a small night club just across the road partially out of sight. anyhow.....as I stroll merrily in the scented cool spring night air with the sound of the band still ringing in my ears I became aware about 200 yards ahead of me a commotion of sorts in the semi darkness. straining my eyes I couldnt quite make out what the noise was ahead only a blurred image of a group of people. as I neared it dawned on me it was where I had parked my car. about 100 yards closer I could see it was a scuffle of sorts and frenzied shouts/screams from female voices. whatever it was it was in full swing...even closer my worst fears were confirmed a group of young men were busy fighting in a drunken stupor right in front of my parked car. its one of those dreaded moments where your brain goes into over drive trying to work out the best thing to do? the fighting cocks started to fall against the front of my car...onto the bonnet..wild punching and screaming....I could hear flesh against metal and that dull thud. surely one has an automatic reaction to such a scene in front of you? do I quickly call the police? rush in to try and break it up or drag them away from my car...shout at them etc etc I continued to approach cautiously and raising my voice to get away from the car to no effect. I shout a second time louder. hardly any reaction at all. luckily two women got involved screaming to get away from the mans car. it worked. tensions lowered for a few minutes as they disentangled limbs from one another. red faced and semi staggering they began to move off across the road. relieved I took to inspecting my car in the semi darkness..wish I had a torch at this moment. the group had semi dispersed across the road and some had entered the night club. hardly any words were exchanged between us in the heat of the incident. I resigned myself to driving home. next day in the cold light of sunshine I surveyed the aftermath of a drunken brawl I wished no part of. two small dents in my car bonnet..two nasty scratches on my otherwise immaculate metallic paintwork wing. umpteen marks/scratches/pitted holes on the front plastic bumper console. what did I do to deserve that I said to myself!? not a happy bunny!

breakfast beany.......

I'm feeling poor this morning. its a self imposed feeling really. I mean I do occasionally get very lazy when it comes to food shopping and I allow my food cupboard to run almost bare...even the fridge is almost empty ie only a few eggs and milk in it along with the usual sauces and associated stuff, I'm sitting here eating baked beans for breakfast...really. it sounds kinda crazy I know but I sometimes allow this scenario to happen..its almost as if I'm testing myself in some way. something along the lines that denial is spiritually cleansing and you feel good about yourself for going through with it for a period. god believing religious folk might understand the process?..others of course will think its crazy. in reality I actually like shopping too...yes even food shopping. many women assume men dont and dont have the patience. but the whole social side to shopping I enjoy like meeting new faces..having a chat...gazing at goods and feeling them...even smelling the newness. I enjoy the set up of shops and sometimes fab displays...different uniforms of brands worn by staff. even discovering or buying different stuff to what I do normally. I enjoy it all..the whole experience. I like shopping with a woman too as it just adds to the fun. women approach shopping so differently to men I find. anyway....my cupboards are not bare because I dislike shopping..or that I'm broke. nor do I have a passion for eating baked beans either in fact I dont like them much..but its all I have. The taste of baked beans in tomato sauce also lingers in the mouth I find but coffee with it is just right ha. I'm sure theres some kind of psychological fix associated to such fasting..not that its proper fasting because of the beans but...its part of the way. I definitely feel like I'm testing myself on the occasions I do this..its not often but occasionally....and I feel good about myself afterwards. do other understand this process?? I think also it relates to a certain character...I mean I'm the type who will walk a number of miles rather then hail a taxi..many wont do that today. another example is...I wont buy a shiny new gadget just for the sake of it when an old object is re-serviceable. or.....my neighbours or friends have modern shiny newish cars. I maybe could go out and buy a new Porsche but chooses to drive around in a 16 year old car which is perfectly good etc etc maybe its the Hippy in me?

Christmas 2013 retail wars

Well..on Saturday 21st December I did the last part of my Christmas shopping. I planned it good and left the house with a confident smile on my face at 8am. I had 3 different supermarkets to visit for food and chocolate goodies to round off the presents. I estimated I could visit all three and accomplish my mission in say around 2 hours as they were quite close to one another. then I had to nip into town to choose the last of the presents I needed to buy for a close friend. town was only 3 miles away but I feared parking the car might be harder this time of year being so busy with last minute Christmas shoppers. but luckily it will still be early I thought to myself putting aside any fears ha. I arrive at my first supermarket at 8-15am. There a little doubt crept in as there were already medium sized queues at the check out. did they open earliler this morning for christmas I wondered? I was also surprised to see pallets parked in the isles with frenzied staff still packing goodies onto the over flowing shelves. regardless I scurried around with my trolly with wonky wheel and managed to avoid the small groups of children running around harassing their stressed mothers for sweets which were conveniently placed low on the shelves at their eye level...clever marketing there I thought to myself. I queued at the check out for what seemed like ages and finally handed my money over to the sweaty check out lady who was complaining she went out drinking last night and was nursing a bad hangover. she obviously wasnt over flowing with christmas cheer and really didnt want to be there. I felt for her and almost bent down to give her a hug in sympathy but stopped myself thinking..um at my age it might be misinterpreted as assault by a dirty old man on a young shop assistant...I could picture the headlines now in my local rag ha. Off and onward I steamed off to my second supermarket. my estimated timing was totally out now as I'd spent over an hour in the last place. This new place was huge like a warehouse of food cum tinsel hanging palace. they had really gone to town on the Christmas decorations here and it looked yummy. as I entered the doors I was a wee bit dazzled by the Christmasy bright lights and silver and gold baubles and Santas Raindeers and Elves.. add to that members of staff dressed up in weird hobbit like costumes with permanently held smiles on their over made up faces...how weird they looked like they had escaped from a Hollywood film set of Harry Potter ha. as I entered further into this magical tinsel hanging winter wonderland complete with piped Christmas carols over the PA system I almost forgot why I was there? my imaginary shopping list in my head had escaped thanks to all my senses being bombarded by a Bling attack. it was like over dosing on drugs as I wandered aimlessly through the asles. good job they dont breathalyse for being stoned in charge of a shopping trolly. As I tried to regain control of my senses I almost bowled into a lady sat at a small stall offering free mince pies and a tot of Sherry to those who caught her eye. in my trance like state I grabbed with both hands and sat happily on a box of tinned peas to enjoy these free treats and found myself people watching for a few minutes, At Christmas time you certainly see all shades of human life amongst the supermarket asles. young married couples arguing quietly as they cant agree on what to choose. screaming demanding children stressing their mums out dragging her to the sweet shelves with her over flowing trolly stacked with enough food to feed a football team...how long is Christmas again? guys roaming with that wanting look upon their faces desperately trying to find the right present for their wives of girl friends..especially funny in the Lingerie dept as their cheeks tend to blush up when female shop assistants look their way haha. little old ladies storming around knocking into folk like they're on a mission. I lost count of the number of 60s plus females who barged into me almost knocking me flying. leaving their mark in the way of a bruise. I shall never look at sweet old Grannies in the same light anymore. amongst all this human frenzy of a mosh pit I spot a Pensioner couple totally oblivious to the surrounding mayhem casually strolling along hand in hand...how lovely. Eventually I do find what I'm looking for though and fight my way to the checkout. another long wait as over spilling trollies are emptied onto the conveyer belt in front of me. the poor woman on the till has the speed and skills of a juggler as she scans each item in lightning speed causing a little bleep sound on the machine. reminded me of a hospital heart monitor and the hope I survive todays madness not to end up attached to one. a smile came to my face as a shop assistant dressed in a Santa outfit filled my bags for me wishing me a Merry Christmas as I departed but I didnt have the heart to argue the point...I was so tempted to say look around! packed my car and headed for the next Retail palace warehouse my last one of three ha. but I neednt have bothered really as I couldnt even get in the car park. honestly it was full with queues of cars waiting to get in..I dont belieeeve it! I decided to dump my plan as stress was manipulating my face at this stage so headed to town only 2 miles away to find my friends present. I head for my usual side streets that offers free parking. no point in going to the multi story as they're full too and the council has just upped the prices to park. so much for encouraging shopping in town let alone Christmas cheer. but again I neednt have bothered as I came across two guys arguing in the street over who was first in turn to pull into a vacant space. one is red faced and screaming at the top of his voice "you jumped the queue you arse hole"...oh dear so very different to the Christmas message of good will to your fellow man at this time of year. later I'm strolling the busy streets and shops in the hope of achieving my mission but losing faith quickly as I'm pushed and shoved along. nobody has time anymore to stop and chat. everyone has an anguished looked in their eyes as they dash from here to there carrier bags and kids in tow. my tinsel colored dream eariler in the day has descended into a christmas Carol nitemare complete with Scrooge in the corner winking out the corner of his eye. Theres a chill in the air and I'm going home! MERRY CHRISTMAS...Bar Humbug! CALLEN PS. Wise Words........." Never trust anyone with a perfect reputation.....For they are inexperienced in Life"

2012 end of illegal war in Irag

So that's it then. The Iraq War is at an end. The long awaited conclusion as the final US soldiers leave the country, closing the gate behind them with a kick.

That's it. The end. Forget the lies. Forget the war crimes. Forget mistreating and killing defenceless prisoners. Remember the victory instead. Mr Obama needs the big-up before next year's elections.

But, of course, the war isn't over any more than Vietnam came to an end for the poor American vets who count their days ekeing out an existence.

In Iraq the violence continues, albeit intermittently. And there will be no comfort for the families of those who died, or those dreadfully injured in body and mind.

Media attention has, of course, been on the thousands of western soldiers that will never return. As if anyone from outside can truly grasp losing loved ones in a war so damningly dishonest, purposeless, wasteful and evil.But nowhere is the attention given to the 150,000 Iraqis killed, a number which remains uncertain because nobody from the Alliance counted them. The same for the lack of support for the hundreds of thousands wounded or who will spend the rest of their days suffering from the effects of uranium bullets and other accursed modern war weaponry.

Is the war really at an end when the USA intend to build a gigantic embassy in Iraq with, according to some commentators, up to 13,000 employees, including private sector mercenaries who have shown themselves to be willing to shoot first and ask questions later, in the good old traditions of the Wild West?

Is the war at an end with western dominance eyeing up the loathsome Iran and Syria?

I could write volumes about Iraq, and the criminal acts perpetrated by allied forces there.

Plaid Cymru opposed the war from its first jingoistic origins. Later we tried to impeach Tony Blair before realising that the other parties wouldn't scrutinise the behaviour of a man who, incredibly, is now a peace envoy in the middle east.

George Bush's policy appeared so pointless, filled with black humour from the moment that preparations for war in Iraq began following 9/11, on the same grounds as if after Pearl Harbour the US had begun a war with Mexico.

Was it a pointless war? No chance! The purpose was all too clear, confirming imperial power in an important strategic part of the world already cursed with considerable wealth. Woe is Syria. Woe is Iran.

no more heroes anymore....

We all know life is little more then a short journey. more shorter for some then others. we try to cram as much as we can into that space of time....some manage to fill it with so much and shine above the crowd so much so that we cant help but notice them and be influenced by them. The mass modern media machine ensures they get noticed by millions across the globe. This man stood out because he wasnt afraid to challenge the rich and powerful...to criticise them and expose what he considered to be wrong or unjust regardless. he was an academic and a deep thinker..he was courageous and stubborn..he was rich and could so easily have lived a quiet cosy safe life going with the flow but...he chose to rattle cages and defend the little man making many enemies in the process, an opinionated loud mouth..a trouble maker..a whistle blower..an angry rebel..a traitor to his class system etc etc oh lord wouldnt this world be a worser place without men of conscience? if such a thing as a hero exists or is a valued thing then he was that to me. I am sad today...I feel an emptiness inside.I feel more alone in this crazy world..why? because one of my heroes just died! CHRISTOPHER HITCHENS Journalist/Author/Social Commentator/Academic etc has died aged 62 of cancer...R.I.P. HITCH!




[Obituary]

'Over the course of his career the self-confessed contrarian gleefully picked fights with political opponents, Nobel Peace Prize winners and religious believers of all faiths.

He fired his trademark put-downs and scathing critiques at figures such as Ronald Reagan, Bill Clinton and Mother Teresa.

Family ties were no barrier either. He famously fell out with his brother, Mail On Sunday journalist Peter, though the pair were reconciled.

Hitchens published scores of books, thousands of articles and made countless television appearances where he could always be relied upon to provide a stream of serious but witty put-downs.

The publication of his 2007 book God Is Not Great made him a major celebrity in his adopted homeland of the United States, and he happily took on the role of the country's best-known atheist.


He maintained his devout atheism after being diagnosed with cancer in 2010, telling one interviewer: "No evidence or argument has yet been presented which would change my mind. But I like surprises."

The Anglo-American iconoclast – he became a United States citizen in 2007 – had very traditional English beginnings. The son of a naval officer, he was born in Portsmouth and educated at private school and Oxford University.

His student days set the pattern for the rest of his life and he freely admitted living a split existence, spending his days as a campaigning left-wing socialist and his nights wining and dining with the great and the good of Oxford.

Strong drink and political argument would remain among his chief pleasures for the rest of his life.

His early career in journalism saw him write for left-wing weekly The New Statesman where he became associated with a group of young writers including Martin Amis, Ian McEwan and Salman Rushdie.

Those friendships endured but many old comrades turned their back on him when he supported the invasion of Iraq in 2003.

He famously traded insults with George Galloway who described him as "a drink-soaked former Trotskyist popinjay".

Hitchens was promoting his memoirs, Hitch-22, when he was diagnosed with cancer.

He did not stop working, telling one interviewer: "I was very afraid that it would stop me writing. I was really petrified with fear about that because I thought that would, among other things, diminish my will to live.

"Being a writer is what I am, rather than what I do."

Hitchens is survived by his wife and three children.'

.....................................................................................





[Related article]

'It’s strange to mourn the passing of a person you’ve never met. It feels hollow, just a little unjustifiable, and as though you’re somewhat unequipped for the undertaking. Usually we are left with a myriad of moments to recollect and reconcile, to render into something approaching the complexity of life. Here we are left holding scraps of paper, dog-eared and lovingly wrecked, that we must read again for clues, or even simply the pleasure of a previously overlooked aphorism.

For those of us who only read (and watched and heard) Christopher Hitchens, who were never lucky enough to play spectator to the late night drinking and later night writing, who had to wait until the morning to see in print the fierce disputation and bone-dry wit that marked his life, the hole left by his death is not a dramatic wrench to the heart, but one that will appear more slowly, deepening and widening as his absence is felt more and more with every passing event. Why? Because Hitchens was not a stock figure who could be rolled out to offer controversy. He was a journalist who made himself vital, who – as he tells us in his memoir – was constantly nagged by the feeling of being “found out” at any moment.

For Hitch, it seems to those of us who truly admired him, was not simply an atheist, a polemicist, and least of all a contrarian. Nor was he a poster boy the left, a banner boy for Iraq, or the harbinger of the apocalypse. He was, in a small part, the 21st century’s answer to the enlightenment. He stood, first and formost, for thought. Thought that would always – by definition – question inherited truth and inherited experts.Thought that could break the chain and cull the living flower. In fact, he can be - and often is – mentioned alongside Dostoyevsky, Voltaire, Orwell and Trotsky not for what he thought, but for how he thought. If, as Joseph Conrad wrote, criticism is the fine flower in the garden of letters, Hitch – before a culling of a more brutal kind – was amongst the finest of the season.

It is not exactly true to say that I have had no ‘real’ contact with the man. After being given his e-mail address by a colleague (upon request) I wrote to offer my condolences and thanks. Asking for some reassurance that the itch to scribble is at least worth scratching he replied (in lightning speed):

“Pay heed to Rainer Marie Rilke’s question about whether you could go on living if you were prevented from writing. Once answer “no”, and the lesser problems fall away. This is simply because you have chosen to do what you should and must and are immune from petit-bourgeois regrets about other career-paths not taken. Then it begins, and you have a life and not an ‘occupation’.”

This is the great gift of the hitch. His lust for the living, the documentation and the criticism of life has cut a path that we are implored to follow. Especially those of us who, at the start of our journey, look upon the road less travelled by and notice its general lack of congestion. Even now, in the response to his death, coverage has been painfully predictable. Take the BBC who, in one of the worst mischaracterisations of a career since Darwins deathbed recanting, claimed Hitchen’s “called himself a contrarian.” It wouldn’t be so bad if a 10-minute YouTube spiral didn’t so easily reveal that ‘contrarian’ was a label against which he regularly railed, and for which he lambasted his publishers.

However, stranger still have been the stock responses, which were published with such speed that it would seem they have been written for weeks. And as though confirming the conspiracy, the lines, the conclusions, even the pithy turns of phrase, have been heard before, everyday. From diagnosis to departure, the sycophancy has been shocking. An event hosted by Stephen Fry on South Bank, which saw Hitch replaced with touching camaraderie by his closest friends (and Sean Penn), was so sickeningly fawning that a circle-jerk would have ended more tastefully. It was a memorial service without the casket. And how its subject must have blushed. Hitchens was not Mother Theresa; those of us who loved him should not fall victim to the same candy-coated canonisation as those who loved her. We are better than that.

We must remember him for who he was; one of us. One of a “stupid, poorly-evolved mammalian species, whose pre-frontal lobes are too small, and adrenalin glands too big, whose thumb-finger opposition isn’t all that it might be, who is afraid of the dark, and afraid to die.”

Admittedly, though, a remarkably good example of one.

As of this morning we have lost one of our best. We have been left standing in the dark, holding a candle lit at both ends and arms filled with scraps of paper, dog-eared and lovingly wrecked, the cover of which reads:

“Beware the irrational, however seductive. Shun the ‘transcendent’ and all who invite you to subordinate or annihilate yourself. Distrust compassion; prefer dignity for yourself and others. Don’t be afraid to be thought arrogant or selfish. Picture all experts as if they were mammals. Never be a spectator of unfairness or stupidity. Seek out argument and disputation for their own sake; the grave will supply plenty of time for silence. Suspect your own motives, and all excuses. Do not live for others any more than you would expect others to live for you.”

Hollywood reminders of a living nitemare

I sat in front of the TV getting quite emotional....tearful in fact. I felt quite silly really as this had happened before and I should have been prepared at least or hardened to this particular scene but no...it effected me yet again much the same as before and my raw emotions just took over. I am talking about the work of that genius film Director Steven Spielberg and his award winning classic film 'Saving Private Ryan'. Its the end scene..remember it? its where the main character of the story James Frances Ryan [Private Ryan] is now a world weary grandfather in his 60s who has traveled to the old battlefields of France with his extended family consisting of his loving wife...sons/daughters and grandchildren in order to pay his respects to his old fallen comrades of decades before. In a way its a gesture of respect and closure for him as he enters his twilight years and to help the younger members of his family understand the huge sacrifices made for them by his generation to ensure their happiness/freedom. Its a very emotive scene as the camera pans in close to his face...eyes that tell a bleak story and tears slowly appear. he chokes on his words as he speaks to the gravestone of his fallen comrade saying that hes tried to lead a good fruitful life and followed his advice from all those years ago in that war torn landscape. His wife who is standing behind him notices his deep upset and moves forward to comfort him...he turns to her and asks her..."have I lead a good life?...tell me I've lead a good life"...etc etc its a very moving scene and translates perfectly the complete horror/waste of war.




Its funny I simply cant watch that film without it ending the same every time with me ie in tears and very shook up. why? I guess because I am a very caring sensitive person allied to a hard shell also. if you were to ask me what was the most shocking event in the 20th Century for me personally I wouldnt quote national disasters that killed thousands of innocent people...nor would I quote deliberate criminal acts of evil....or full scale wars that ripped a generation of healthy youth apart and solved very little etc but I would quote the orchestrated evil of the Holocaust during the 1930s/40s that was dealt to truly innocent men woman and children as the one event that effected me most even though I wasnt born until 5 years after its end and can only rely on history text mostly to understand it. plus of course the horrific film footage recovered and actual witness accounts. The passing of years since that terrible event which adds up to 66 now hasnt even slightly diminished the agonising impact of what happened to me. ones rational mind and sense of incredibility keeps the painful thoughts of it fresh in my head because I dont want to accept civilised human beings could do such an evil thing because of a Political Ideology but....they did without much question. The film 'Saving Private Ryan' relates to and reminds me of that period and its crazy events hence my deep emotions while watching that scene above..that brave good people laid down their lives to rid the world of unadulterated evil Ideology..only fools will will be insensitive toward such a thing.




History is my thing and I do enjoy researching about a lot of it particularly the mayhem of the Second World War..its reasons and causes..its thinking and mechanisms that allowed events to unfold as they did. Armies armed to the teeth and facing one another on the battlefield because of some Political differences is one thing and history books glorify the colorful drama with feelings of National pride and evolution with god on our side tosh...but for a Democratically elected government to brainwash its citizens in an evil racial way against sections of your own community and then declare war on parts of the civilian population leading to their murders in especially constructed murder factories is almost inconceivable to a civilised person..how could that evolve?..happen?...how? because of this real human tragedy that happened I have always been drawn to look for answers about the Holocaust in an attempt to understand somehow. War films always related to this in parts for me..how could it not? hence I have researched it thoroughly over the years and snippets always comes to the surface of what happened to ordinary innocent people caught up in that sad page of history through no fault of their own...every day events like.....






When the German army conquered land in their invasion of Russia in June 1941 during operation Barbarossa they had strict instructions to show no mercy to the civilian population of the villages/towns/cities they over run. that the Peasants were inferior and of the level of animals...that all Jewish families and Communist party supporters were to be shot on sight coldly..men women and children...every building were to be torched as you passed through and if the buildings inhabitants ran out of the burning buildings just shoot them....this became the norm for almost every fighting unit in the field with some exceptions. That whole communities were to be rounded up and killed. In some regions there were even recorded instances of old ex soldiers who Fought for the German army during World War One coming out wearing their old medals to greet the advancing German army only to be beaten and cruelly killed by the troops as they openly mocked their victims. How they killed the children in front of their parents just to maximise the agony aspects of their evil deeds.



In the specially constructed Concentration Camps or death factories scattered alover occupied Europe the regime was of hate and suffering daily. Children were automatically separated from parents as was men from women. The young/strong were put to grueling work on starvation rations of watery vegetable soup that caused almost instant diarrhea and dysentry. Their survival period was a few weeks usually. Children were either killed straight away by lethal injection or medically experimented on...they were all condemned to death anyway so...women were worked to death or served as slaves in the service parts of the camp and the turnover was again high because of the lack of food and beatings.





Even though the camps were always full to over flowing daily trainloads of Jews arrived from all parts of Europe usually 20-40,000 at a time and sometimes twice in a 24 hr period. these unfortunate victims which consisted of whole families of mum/dad with children and grand parents to had already endured months/years of ill treatment and partial starvation in segregated ghetto areas of occupied countries...had just suffered a journey of often days without food/water in cattle trucks to arrive weak and confused/fearful for their families to be herded in their thousands by sadistic guards with vicious dogs and whips to be split up ie woman on one side men on the other. children taken away with the old and crippled/infirm. told they must enter large sheds and strip off in order to take a communal shower and be deloused before going to the camp. to be herded naked and afraid down specially shielded laneways often with fake signs to delude them and played music to end up in large fake shower rooms that held a thousand at a time only to be cruelly gassed. the guards boasted they could clear a train load of 30,000 people from disembarking to to the burning death pits at the rear of the gas chambers ready to be buried or burned etc in 2-3 hours...industrially efficient and impressive if it wasnt for the human victims.




I am reminded of the thousands women awaiting their turn to be showered standing often in freezing weather completely naked half knowing they were about to be killed...standing huddled and shivering in a sea of human flesh and many emptying their bowls on the hard concrete floors because of sheer fear..how some were so desperate they committed suicide by slitting their wrists/necks to end the agony and some helping their grand parents or older children to do the same. I am haunted by the thousands of naked men suffering the same fate naked in long rows who were hurriedly taken before the women to their deaths as the guards feared more resistance hence they treated more brutally with whips snarling dogs who bit their naked flesh as they passed and some guards openly used swords to to wound and increase the fear in the crowd...those who found the strength/courage to resist who were few in number were instantly shot dead on the spot....imagine the noise and confusion of 30-40.000 people being processed at the beginning and two short hours later a deathly silence hung over the whole area...all dead and being buried or burned in pits..piles of human flesh....twisted hurt cold faces...erased from this world...blood to be cleaned away and any clues that this place was busy with human presence...ready for another train load a few hours later...can this thing be real? did it really happen?




I have only touched the surface of facts here..of what took place in a cold blooded efficient industrialised manner. There are enough agonising individual stories that would take a life time to tell.....yes war films remind me of the whole picture of past events of that period. it is important to remember dont you think? we must remember in the hope it will prevent ordinary people in extraordinary situations in the future from not doing the same again..yes it was ordinary people who worked the mechanics of those camps..who worked the trains..who did the admin..who cooked the guards meals..who followed orders without question...we must not forget that! Thank you Steven Spielberg for reminding me. CALLEN

















Words of Wisdom......."Only clowns and the empty minded laugh all the time"