What Are Dreams

What are dreams, what function do they serve in our technologically based, unatural insane way of living.

Last week in the quiet of a French village night I had the most powerful and vivid dream, that when I awoke left me still smelling the perfume, still feeling the heat and still feeling the intense emotion.

The situation was in a different time and different place, where different decisions had been made and different conclusions reached in my life.

I was with a young woman I once knew, I was a younger self, but with the knowledge of maturity of middle age. We were in a museum or a Church looking at post Roman Gothic sculpture. I recollect a font, and bright intense light pouring into the room as if the light quality was from Africa.

Turning to her the emotion was overwhelming enough to elicit a passionate kiss,in front of a crowd of onlookers, the last part was the turn of her body towards me showing a sheath of black silk and lace.

This event has never happened nor is ever likely to, but the intensity, the senses that were activated so strongly of smell,touch and look made it so vivid.

I believe that we are all creatures of nature and this must have a function. I have looked up various writers in the recent past and the belief systems of our ancestors, Freud wrote

Greeting The Summer

Thousands greet the Summer reports Xinhua the Chinese News Agency

A slightly better turnout than for the Church of England this morning.

Hi willað eow to gafole garas syllan, ættrynne ord, ond ealde swurd

They will to you [a] tribute of spears give,
deadly points,& time-tested swords,




Thought shall be the harder, the heart the keener, courage the greater, as our strength lessens.
Here lies our leader all cut down, the valiant man in the dust;
always may he mourn who now thinks to turn away from this warplay.
I am old, I will not go away, but I plan to lie down by the side of my lord, by the man so dearly loved.

Earl Byrhtnoð —(Battle of Maldon)

Today is the 6th June 2009, the sixty fifth anniversary of D-Day, a Nation that loses its history loses its soul and existence.

The rewriting of History for the convenience of the ruling classes has gone on for centuries. The corruption of this Government was amply demonstrated to me on Election day, when I went to Sutton Hoo for the second time since it opened eight years ago. The site is administered by the National Trust, an organisation that I am a member of. I am sad to say that the National Trust is fast becoming a bland bureaucratic corporate machine so amply demonstrated by the recent programme about Sissinghurst.

As with most organisations it has succumbed to the world view of our temporary political masters. The twelve minute film on entry is an epic of discreet 'messages' from the 21st Century perspective. The film is ably translated in sign language by a member of an ethnic minority for the deaf, which gives an adequate summary of the story of the finds on the eve of war in 1939. However the end of this short film,it states baldly,that the Anglo-Saxons have 'disappeared, absorbed into the British Nation'

I sat there open mouthed, have the Welsh disappeared, the Scots disappeared, Ulstermen 'disappeared into the British Nation'. Do their historical sites say the same ?

As far as I am aware the English, have not disappeared, their language is now the Lingua Franca of most of the commercial world. English cultural life, its values and strengths and weaknesses are as relevant today as they were one thousand five hundred years ago.

Sarkozy may give life to the myth that D-Day was a 'Franco-Americain Affaire' as does Hollywood in Saving Private Ryan. The truth as this generation, which is starting to pass, will tell you is different. More Poles landed on D-Day than Frenchmen, More British and Canadian troops landed on D-Day than Americans. The United Kingdom went to war to protect Poland- no other reason, five years later Poland was 'given' to the Soviet Union by the United States and the United Kingdom, only breaking free forty four years later.

I walked round the burial mounds above the Deben, wondering how we have come to the pass we have, that our own Government denies our own culture and is bent on teaching our children a gross perversion of the truth. I have seen children's educational fims with a black father and son sitting down with a white working class father and son toasting the new Queen in 1953 in front of a TV. Culturally this could not have happened , yet it was presented as a cultural truth.

Coming back up the sandy lanes through the woods that Raedwald's people dragged his funeral boat up , I heard a low growl in the sky. The sound of a Merlin engine is instantly recognisable. Above me in the sunlight was a lone spitfire doing barrells and rolls, I assume in preparation for today's memorial.

The spirit of the Old King Raedwald was still soaring over his land, and despite the politically correct elite attempting to rewrite History, the values and Liberty that was ingrained in the thousands of warriors that stormed ashore sixty five years ago is as valid today as it was when Earl Byrhtnoð defied the invader a thousand years ago.

We have not disappeared, the pygmies who unjustly rule this country however will soon disappear and be forgotten.



6 Ærra Liða 2009