the youngest son

The youngest son

The youngest son,
is cheek and jowl
closest to the home.
The elder leads the way
in flight from family nest
to patriarchal roost

The youngest dreams in secrecy
burdened and acquainted
with the labour line
futile to make a start

The elder is mature
the younger is a child
whose dreams are pocket money
for the petty scribbles
that urban dwellers do not desire

In his troubled mind
he cannot make his peace
with himself
and who he is
while the world wiles
on for miles and miles
as peoples and civilizations enter into weddings
and march to the summit
only to depart for the fall.

NOTES ON PHILOSOPHY

NOTES ON PHILOSOPHY
-BY ROBERT FULLARTON


If a person is any way philosophical then they will begin to question life itself and wonder how life came to be externally and how it is that intelligent conscious life came to observe the materials, mechanisms and structures that make life possible. Much of life is formed in our choices and outlook, that can shape our moral systems and this too comes from belief systems that add to life's mystery and give people meaning. We ourselves are not going to live forever, no matter how rich we are, or physically strong, we cannot depend on ourselves, because we are selfish creatures that compromise the good of the community for the greater good, often for our own will...the modern world loves Nietzschean philosophy and Darwinian social philosophy, because it emphasises selfish competition and ruthlessness...but most people despite this..even a society itself has a moral identity and an individual conscience for which it can give distinction between actions of good behaviour or bad behaviour. 

One cannot always help-oneself and I say this as a man who has had horrific mental health problems and been in hospital twice...the greater good is minutely shaped by the coming together of people to help each other but this is only a shadow of what we have been taught -in western Europe- by the very mercy, charity, legacy and teachings that were given by Christ. Atheism denotes that there is no truth..ie..no rationale behind life itself to its very core..no sensibility..no pure form of intelligence..ultimately no reason to choose one objective view over another or concrete proof. and this is a MASSIVE..contradiction...that makes no sense and blows back into one's face like a furnace.. 

Also we are told.that things just come about by themselves without reason, intelligence or purpose..that all things came from nothing..which makes no intelligent sense whatsoever...we believe this because we are told this by our society, our state, our agenda driven civilisation that operates on a philosophy of secularism and that worships nature in its mere finished form...but gives no true credit or thought to the reason or intelligence behind such phenomenon. One cannot call declare all things blind and senseless and expect such a statement to get away without a grinding..its pure contra-diction..worse it pure nonsense..(MODERN NONSENSE -AKA WISDOM)

Switzerland by train and foot part 3- by Robert Fullarton, Copyright Robert Fullarton 2015

Switzerland by train and foot part 3

by Robert Fullarton

Copyright Robert Fullarton 2015

Swiss food differs from region to region, with a culinary tradition that combines French, German and Italian cooking together. Famous dishes such as fondue and raclette-which are more common in the Francophile regions of Switzerland, along with the dishes such as Rosti and Spatzli in the German speaking Switzerland -all these dishes are hearty, wholesome and can be filled with several types of Swiss cheese! Potatoes are common on most menus along with a  hot filling bowl of goulash soup. I myself have to say that I really enjoyed the rosti -each version differs with each ingredient, restaurant and region and it has become a dish synonymous with Switzerland's identity (it was apparently cooked by alpine farmers for breakfast at the start of a hard day's work).

Each morning my aunt and I would eat a fine selection of cold meats and cheeses -Emmental cheese happens to be one of the few cheeses suitable to my rather fussy palate!- with muesli and breakfast tea. I did on occasion find that the hotel had filled my sandwiches with fish paste -which was not the nicest surprise to occasion upon when out on a day's ramble- but we would fill our bags with fruit and snacks from the supermarket -on one occasion we picnicked in the green-heavenly oasis of the Lauterbrunnen valley (one of the most beautiful places I have ever laid eyes on!) by the chalets, the piles of wood that were stored for winter and the Black Redstarts that darted in and out of the crevices in the chalets beside the milky white Luetschine river.

The hotel offered up local specialities, such as -the locally caught- trout covered in almonds or the tender veal served up with potatoes in a red wine sauce. My aunt and I smuggled in a kettle to drink cups of tea, while we played cards, indulged in the local chocolates and enjoyed the view of the mountains from the balcony. I wrote over several evenings in the opulence of the Victorian hotel and ate a selection of German salamis and cold meats -trying to cope with bad sunburn on my scalp and forehead- pondering on bigger issues and problems that I would have to face when I went home again.

My aunt and I boarded the cable car to the Mannlichen peak on the heights above the village of Wengen -it is impressively positioned at over 7,000 ft above sea level- where we gazed down on the elevations of  beauty, the village and its wooden constructs, the snow blasted towers of the Alps that formed an arc past the village of Wengen both behind us and towards the distant village of Murren. These heights are home to Marmots, Ibex and Chamois just to name a few of the mammals in the region. The heights are alive with the sound of chirping birds, with snow finches coming and going and Alpine Choughs begging for food off recreational walkers -I myself fed a Chough, that landed right beside me, a bit of a cracker!

The air is cold, but fresh and oxygen levels are lower than down further. A grand milieu of walkers, dedicated hikers came and assembled on the rocky summits that went on one side to Grindelwald and on the other to the station at Kleine Scheidegg. Up on these heights- which had just been opened to the public, meteorological stations cover the region and stations for winter skiers can be found. Both me and my aunt wanted a leisurely walk and nothing too strenuous, so we decided to take the 1 1/2 hour walk to Kleine Scheidegg -which in reality took a lot longer than the supposed time suspected, due to minor avalanches that had occurred before hand and had blocked the path with mounds of snow. My aunt slipped and had to be helped on the walk, on one particular stretch of the path, we found ourselves struggling to maneuver around and over the snow and spotted school children taking careful measures to get through.

We met a man of 80, a veteran hiker who came from Colorado who with his wife had been to Switzerland on numerous occasions and was on a day out to survey and inspect the Alpine flowers that grew out of the rocks on the slopes of the mountains. Naturally enough he was tired and less able than many of the other climbers, but he was a redoubtable man who keep going despite having had knee surgery a couple of years before the holiday. We picnicked with him and his wife on the journey and we kept bumping into each other at every mound of snow that held us up and created a queue of cautious walkers. At the end of the walk we came to Kleine Scheidegg, where you can survey the heights of the Eiger and the Jungfrau- and where (if you have the considerable amount of cash!) you can board a train to the Jungfraujoch, the highest train station in Europe.

On that night I remember that there was a yodelling concert on in the town hall in Wengen, with the full kitsch, the Alpenhorns, cow bells and beer all ready for the tourists. Unfortunately, due to complications in the hotel kitchen with our dinners, we were left waiting quite some time for our food, and by the time we were finished, we found ourselves to be considerably late and ill prepared for the occasion. We decided to walk around the peripheries of the town, sat outside a lovely little country church where we looked in awe at the candle like twinkling of the lights in Lauterbrunnen bellow us and the clear starry sky that was in full view above us. The only sounds to be heard were from the waterfalls bellow us and the brass bands that rang out from the town hall. In the dim of the midsummer twilight, bats flew round the hillside, while scarlet streaks filled the retreating descent of the sun into the black hills beyond us. We went back to the hotel and played some cards in solace.

Switzerland by train and foot Part 2 by Robert Fullarton Copyright 2015

Switzerland by train and foot Part 2

by Robert Fullarton

Copyright 2015

2.

People have said to me in the past that they believe Switzerland to be "boring" or less culturally rich as say neighbouring Germany, Italy or France. There is wealth and some conservatism to be seen in this successful Republic of finance and entrepreneurial success, but boredom depends upon what you come here for. I believe that the Swiss landscapes are raw natural canvasses of stretched beauty, the highest elevations of mountain that cover and elongate through six countries- form impressive peaks, passes and are greatly accessible to the aesthete) and offer unique flora and fauna to the region.
Switzerland is by no means a boring country! There is a refined tourism for people who know what they want and know what they are going to get -it is for nature lovers, recreational users, skiers, locomotive addicts and yes, business people too)- it also offers quaint, rustic, fairy-tale like towns and villages with artisan cheese makers, chocolatiers and wine makers that offer tourists local, home grown tastes and tourism.

This country has a superb network of trains that are connected with the little mountain and regional trains, the steam locomotives, the funiculars and the cable cars that take tourists to places that were previously deemed inaccessible. You will be treated to vast panoramas of spectacular glacial landscapes you will enjoy all the Heidiesque stereotypes of picture perfection and tidiness because this country has a romantic- almost spiritual- feel to it, whether you are going past the lakes of Zug and Lucerne or ascending the spheres and heights of the Bernese Oberland, you will be in for a treat. Of course as I said before, just make sure you have the money, or a very tight budget to afford a country that has high costs to match its high wages and standard of living.

From Interlaken you can catch an express train to Bern (the Swiss capital) which will take you past the opulent and truly gorgeous lake Thun. Great Crested Grebes, buzzards and Red kite can be seen around these waters, even on occasion from the comfort of the train carriages.

Both me and my aunt, spent the day wandering through the old town (Altstadt) of Bern through the arching arcades by the little trams, we walked past the Glockspiel- famous Bernese clocktower- and the famous fountains- including the Samson fountain, the Bear fountain and the ogre fountain( with a statue of an ogre devouring children from a sack!- past the various flags and flower boxes that adorn the side streets and hang colourfully from oriel windows. Initially when we arrived at the Bahnhof we were rather hemmed in with the weekday rush of people coming and going, but once you venture past the crowded Bundesplatz (Swiss Parliament building) you will enter into more quieter quarters where the streets are tram-free and have lovely little squares -very reminiscent  something straight out of France- where people sip their coffees, gawk at passersby and engage in conversation. Some of the buildings have a sort of Art Nouveau appearance to them with their gilded facades, classical like friezes on top of neatly ornate stone masonry. Both me and my aunt sat in a quaint square with views of the Rathaus (Town Hall) and an impressive gothic church -we drank nearly a litre of lemonade..which we were given in a superfluous amount, but it was a very hot day!

My favourite memory and association with Bern has to be wonderfully well constructed Gothic  Swiss Reformed cathedral (Munster) that offers tourists a steep climb to the belfry for a fantastic panorama of the city of Bern and the beautiful, green river Aare that flows through the fringes of the old town. The front facade of the cathedral- on the main front door- is filled with wooden statues, beautifully hand carved, adorned and painted over time, up above it covers the last judgement, with angels, Apostles and Jesus himself adorned with golden rods and  silver swords. Justice sits in the centre and on the left there are the wise and foolish virgins -from Christ's parable of the virgins- this for me was like a child's first gaze at the abstract picture of life itself- on where we are going, on who we are and what good and evil really mean- it was a profound experience of ecstatic delight for me, as the medieval features, the wooden statues, the frescos of the annunciation spoke to me in sheer delight...and within the cathedral, the beautiful stone walls and stained glass windows evoked something out of Tudor England.

We wandered through the back streets of Bern and looked out on the beautiful, green, river Aare thast flowed around the streets bellow. To my side there was a steep drop with a view of gorgeous little allotments, flower gardens and vegetable patches with houses bearing resemblance to somewhere in Provence. People gathered by the little park nearby above the rushing of the waters on a gigantic weir, men played boules in the gravel, couples ate ice cream and I took photos. I just wished I could have stayed and surveyed the little back streets that went and disappeared into quaint little corners, cafes and local restaurants. There was wall to wall sunshine that day in that fairy like town -just a pity that the bear pits were closed for renovation!.