On behalf of the dim

The Counter-Enlightenment

Apparently Ukraine started the war. I don't know how, as Russia invaded it. 

But they did. Donald Trump said.

They're not allowed to negotiate the peace either. That can only take place between Russia and America. 

And Russia must be compensated by having all of its terms met BEFORE the negotiations take place. So it gets its territory (which historically was its, back in the bleh... century) and Ukraine can't join NATO.

That'll serve Ukraine right and teach it not to be a VICTIM again!

We stand with the strong men of the world! 

Trump's face will be carved into Mount Rushmore!

People loyal to THE PRESIDENT will replace those whose were merely loyal to the constitution!

Every podcast is out of date the moment it's broadcast as more and more insane shit is introduced by the US govt.

This is a deliberate tactic.

Trump is asked questions about his various secretaries of state and their actions, and doesn't even know what they've done or are doing.

That's not his job!

That's Elon's!

Trump's job is to play golf and to sign shit with his Sharpie.

This is democracy in action! 

All Hail the President!!

Is he going to be vulgar again, Deirdre? 

You know? Like last time...

Well to all the Deirdres out there, I do have Frontotemporal Dementia (Behavioural Variant) and this isn't the 1950s, but I will be more sensible and boring as I know the general public prefers it. 

And my key demographic is the middle-aged and intelligent, anodyne as that may be.

After all, in keeping with other dementia sufferers, one's accompanying blog about one's life as a demented must be wholesome and pure.

I'm supposed to talk about flowers, and spring (everyone forgets in the UK that the weather is shite until April) and birdsong, animals, walks in nature and beautiful loveliness.

And also my ever-loving care-partner, who I don't have. This bit only just occurred to me, as an autonomous dementia-bot - that I don't have a significant other.

Most other dementia bloggers tend to still be in relationships. I'm well-aware dementia puts a huge strain on relationships and many people split apart as the behaviour of the dementia sufferer goes un-diagnosed for years and can create antipathy and resentment.

Obviously I can get away without having a carer at the moment. 

My plan, when shit sucks, is to jump off a cliff.

It may never reach that point as one's lived experience in the present is 'well, I'm still okay', even when you've lost all your friends and are - at that moment - being arrested for trying to have sex with a large display of canned soups in a local Asda.

I imagine that the urge to remain alive is a strong one even when you're full on mad/demented.

I thought once I can no longer read, or run or play a D&D game anymore - with that being my raison d'être these days - what would be the point?

And I'll probably then say - ah, but I still appreciate music, ...and so on and so forth until I run out of interests and hobbies and all the other things that make me ME, until I'm reduced to basic bodily functions and wearing a nappy.. 

And the cliff thing - I'm a coward, so I probably won't do that.

Mind you, the world may not last that long the way things are going...

Balancing the booze

I managed to disgust myself sufficiently into stopping drinking or rather, cutting down to 4 beers a week. My stomach was that of the famous pregnant man from that early 70s advertisment.

Famous pregnant man advert

Self-disgust is an excellent in-built emergency brake and u-turn. A kill-switch if ever there was.

I looked at my once Apollonian frame in its naked glory in the mirror. Sagging everything, a retreated winkle too ashamed to show his once true majesty, Blackadder legs and a bloated potbelly. 

I look like some ancient toad. 

Me, naked. The other day.

It's puketastically bad. Bad enough for me to eschew the booze and walk a bit more, watch my diet and increase the vegetables.

I blame my parents who made me eat a ton of veg when I was a kid but now eat hardly any themselves. 

Okay, okay - I shall take charge of the cooking.

It will take 2-3 months and more exercise to get to my ideal weight / belt notch. It always does when I get to this stage. But I am fatter than I've ever been.

You need to see me in the flesh to see how revolting I truly am.

I already feel better since cutting down alcohol and walking more.

Full-frontal nudity here we come!

Oh, to be a starfish...

Quantum decline

You take it for granted for ages. The “situation” in the background, you know, [whispers] dementia!

Then you go through a couple of days of a trough, which turns into 5 or 7, and you realise you’ve taken a small but significant step down in your abilities.

Concentration at an all time low. Every time I try to read and prepare for D&D the detail of most of it is lost, so much so at times that when it comes to running the game it feels like I’m reading the passage for the first time. 

My prep is like this: procrastinate, procrastinate, read half-heartedly, procrastinate, read thoroughly and make notes, do nothing on the day of the game, read the notes haphazardly in a hurry - eyes darting all over the page - ditto for the actual original text, then run game. 

It’s an effort. Fuck I wish it wasn’t like this. Am I getting away with it? 

I asked and one person said it was noticeable how I'm not as on it as I once was but it was still really good, and the other person said they hadn't detected any decline at all. 

I like to think I’m experienced enough to provide a decent experience for everyone - myself included.

Suffice to say this is the new reality. 

Also some occasional minor hallucinations: white objects like my Apple mouse which in my peripheral vision suddenly burst into view like a firing flash gun set at F2.

I’m going to have to up my dose of Sertraline from 100mgs to 150mgs for a while. Finding it all a bit difficult. The noise of busy pubs; sitting indoors, not finding any satisfaction in YouTube clips or much else for that matter. 

Like a smoker who can’t afford cigarettes, or the straight-jacketed man with itchy balls. 

Just restless: an unquenchable thirst for a drink that doesn’t exist. 

At least I can still string a sentence together, spot typos, grammar errors and punctuation errors (are they ever not errors these days?) with alarming speed - like Robocop spotting perps in his multiple cross-hairs.

My handwriting still receives compliments. 

Forgetting my multiplication times tables now. Had to think what 7x8s were. Known them off by heart since I was 9.

You lucky, lucky bastard.

And you 'n all.

Politics 

I still think I’m over-qualified for Trump's cabinet.

I’m not a rapist, or a tax evader, or a fraud of any kind. In fact I haven’t done anything to be pardoned by him yet. 

So no ambassadorships or secretary of state jobs.

I am completely unqualified for any post in government, which oddly enough would actually make me qualified in this (mad) instance.

I’m better informed than Tulsi Gabbard who repeats verbatim RT propaganda like a Talking Barbski doll-bot and of course RFK Jr who seems to be just a very damaged person through drug-use and personal trauma.

Despite my dementia I’d be much better than this shower.

Trouble is the MAGA crowd would accuse me of being a DEI pick and that wouldn’t be a good look for Trump or Project 2025.

Sod it then. It's CEO of the World Bank for me.

Plutocrats 

Just as Elon Musk spent hundreds of millions of dollars getting the stooge known as Trump back into office, the Reform Party is Musk's next project. They are of course natural bedfellows.

Another one in the mix is Nick Candy - the property developer, who in a Sunday Times interview today quite openly speaks about his fondness for Saudi Arabia and its society: its great quality of life and law and order.

Wow. Think about this for a moment. Saudi and many of the Emirates states have the most appalling human rights records, a catalogued history of indentured workforces, the scandal about the workers who built the Burj Khalifa and many other erectile dysfunction buildings in that part of the world.

But what amazes me these days is that somehow, at some point the concept of democracy became devalued. People now speak openly about appalling regimes and dictators as though these are great people running great societies. The MAGA movement led by Trump, Tucker Carlson, Tulsi Gabbard praising Victor Orban, Poot'n, Xi of China. All autocrats with appalling human rights records, especially for women and LGBTQ+.

I just can't believe how up-front they are about it too. There's almost no attempt to hide their undemocratic leanings. I assume they operate in echo-chambers for them to think this is 'normal'.

These billionaires who manipulate the media like never before are out to get even richer, dividing the wealth of the world up between themselves like the oligarchs they are, depending on ordinary people to vote them in.

Already Trump is pulling back on his promise to make groceries more affordable - one of the promises he made in the election.

I cannot believe we've come to this point. People died in the Peasant's Revolt, The Peterloo Massacre, Chartism, Trades unions and the suffragette movement, to have human rights, to be recognised by those holding power as fellow humans with a stake in society ie. the vote.

Is it that history has become irrelevant due to ignorance?

- Forget it G - that happened a long time ago. It's history.

- What, like Jesus?

If it looks like fascism smells like fascism and acts like fascism, it's probably fascism. 

I've lost friends who have swallowed this shit hook line and stinker. And I'm prepared to lose more any who fall into this vortex of bigotry and hatefulness.

They're laughing at us.

And finally...

Had to throw 2 pairs of pants out this week: structural integrity of the gusset. Quite the disappointment. These things all happen at the same time don’t they? Waves of exploding heels on socks, disintegrated gussets and holes in your favourite t-shirts. 

These things happen in clusters don't they?

One thing’s for sure, I shan’t be buying nylon pants ever again.