Apologies for my long absence, I am afraid I am again undergoing a dramatic metamorphosis I would say another watershed, but I’ve had too many of them already, and besides I am still in free fall and have no idea where I am going to land. That’s the thing with manic depression, whilst the lows can be suicidely crippling, the highs can be terrifyingly dangerous. These are the times when you think you can actually fly, or write a bestseller.
You would think the huge flurry of brain activity brought on by the mania would be productive, but sadly, that’s rarely the case. Mostly because we set unattainable goals, our dreams of what we would be doing if we weren’t mental. At the moment, my own plans are to a)write a bestseller b)revitalise my blog - opening up new areas of discussion, and c)build a museum. With b) I want to discuss topical issues, host a forum with a wide diversity of opinion. I have enjoyed writing my blog over the years, and I have been fortunate in having so many readers who have contributed such interesting and informative posts. Readers’ views are the most interesting part of my blog I think, well they are for me, and I am sure my enemies will agree, lol.
The more unattainable the goals we set, the more guilt we have to beat ourselves up with. It’s like knobbling a horse before a race, except you are that horse. Unlikely, I know, but if your list of things to torture yourself with at 4.00am runs low, you can always call on your failures, the things you didn’t do and the people (and properties) you lost. Then there are the memories of your inappropriate behaviour, those times when you really should have kept your opinion to yourself or checked when leaving the bathroom, that you hadn’t tucked the back of your skirt into your knickers.
But hey, ho, this isn’t all about depression, though Lord knows, with the cruel turn this world has taken and Donald Trump, for me, the temptation to stick my head in the oven is never far away. The only thing that stops me is not wanting to be found with the yorkshire pudding debris on the bottom of the oven stuck to my cheek. But I jest, when I go, I’m going like Elsie (fans of Cabaret will recognise), if only I could stop sitting alone in my room.
I have now, I think, shaken the McCanns right out of my hair, deliberately so. For me it was an intricate puzzle to solve (to my own satisfaction), it was never about hate. Mostly I think it was astonishment that such a heinous crime enriched so many (it’s always about the money) and astonished at the number of otherwise sane people, admiring the cloth on the Emperor’s new clothes. And those ‘sane’ people include Chiefs of police, journalists, politicians (a given), ‘criminologists’ and several large Charities.
The Madeleine case is so much more than a child going missing, people who ‘were’ in high places may well have perverted the course of justice. Looking beyond the headlines takes you to a quagmire of theories, wild accusations, and unintentionally funny, pious and sanctimonious headcases who’s vivid imaginations have conjured up all sorts of bizarre allegations that make no sense and are deliberately malicious and salacious. I doubt even Debbie who ‘did’ Dallas, would indulge in the kind of sexual squalor they dream up.
But I digress, with the Madeleine case, once you take the blue pill (or is it the red one?) there is no turning back. Before you know it, you are asking why?, who?, OMG and ‘is it possible the ‘Authorities’ could be so corrupt? Every unanswered question will torment you, wake you in the wee small hours, and take you to a place where only the right answer will set you free. And when you get to the bottom of that little maze, you will begin to question everything around you, life as you knew it, will never be the same again. It’s like binge watching the box set of Armand Ianucci’s ‘Thick of It’, in one hit. More than a glimpse into the inner workings of Whitehall, the Media, and the casual use of lying and cheating to deceive the nation.
Unfortunately for the powers that be and indeed for the McCanns, in this new age of enlightenment, the public didn’t swallow the lame ‘abduction’ story, most understood that this tragedy was of the parents’ own making - they left children of a tender age on their own. Period. Time has ended the reign of all those trying to capitalise on the abduction myth, no other child has disappeared in similar circumstances, there is no epidemic, children are not regularly stolen from their beds at night. The availability of the internet has not produced active gangs of pedophiles. All the scaremongering was just that, scaremongering. Karma, I think, is having the last word.
The McCanns are users. That they have been used is arguably, their just desserts. They are in a position that I would find stifling and intolerable. They are dependent on all those who assisted them, keeping to their original statements. It appears they have thus far, which may account for the length of time the investigations are taking. But the police haven’t given up - all these years later, the case is still live. Those responsible for Madeleine’s disappearance are still on the hook. No-one has been officially cleared, no evidence of an abductor has been produced.
Meanwhile, the McCanns have paid, or still owe an enormous amount of money to several firms of Portuguese lawyers. They have nothing new to support a claim in the ECHR, no solid evidence of their innocence from the PJ or Operation Grange. I doubt very much they will go ahead with it. Given their illogical hatred of Goncalo Amaral, their losses to him in the Civil Courts must sting twice as much. Perhaps that is their karma.
I am indifferent to the fates of those involved in Madeleine’s disappearance, their fates are in the hands of the police, both English and Portuguese. And of course themselves, should their nagging consciences or constant fear get the better of them.
To be honest, I curse myself for allowing the Madeleine case to take over my life quite as much as it did. I don’t know what came over me, lol. I needed to know everything, as if I were a research scientist. I don’t know what made it quite so intriguing, but clearly I wasn’t the only one! In retrospect, I tend to think, it was probably our inner outrage at being lied to, and frustration that others couldn’t see it.
I still think it is a huge miscarriage of justice, but it has been swamped by the huge changes in the dominant ideology, the terrifying move further and further to the Right. This doesn’t feel like ‘England’ anymore, there is a sinister cruel edge that has crept through our society, a move back to the 80’s ideology of ‘Greed is Good’, but with nastier, more sinister undertones.
Theresa May will never challenge Donald Trump, she believes in the same things he does, and probably secretly admires the way in which he freely appeals to his supporters’ basest instincts. Headmistress May thinks it, but dare not say it. Hard to tell who is the more evil, Trump who puts kids in cages and calls human beings ‘illegals’ (wtf!) or May who steals from the poor to give to the super rich. Oh, and who also sells weapons of mass destruction to inhumane regimes to kill thousands of poor people.
But onto a lighter note. The football. I surrender, it’s unavoidable. Have to say though, as a female, I am baffled by the sheer ecstasy of grown men as the ball hits the back of the net. And being able to discuss said ball hitting back of net for hours on end, and for decades thereafter, mystifies me. However, that collective happiness is somehow endearing, and a good time for wives/partners to mention the dent in the car or the kitchen they always dreamed of. Bear in mind this period of tranquillity is precariously balanced on the tip of a football boot and the referee not being a wanker. Book television timeslots in advance, this gives you great leverage should England reaching the finals clash with Despicable Me. In that event you can ask for diamonds! ;)