FFFFOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDBBBBBBBBAAAAAAANNNNNNNKKKKKKSSSSSSSS!!!!!















 



MONEY NATURE



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zGr-qpA9Q4c



                   







https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WS3I99bOcKo&list=PLuFr_e8-H8jvPva7qZLn9WK1pvZ1ihZ9uhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=amGI5T0JGDc&list=RDamGI5T0JGDc&index=1https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vyqTPHWZyOw&list=PLB4RGZos-7bbOSg9OLRIyGRO2EwZ8-lB2&index=7







https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2U9WMftV40chttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xux9-UQ4wJ4


                       

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JWuoGZAz94chttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JGbStdPP_Eshttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HmfxWN07swwhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W1937VEYguI



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=roS84cBwsPs




Early on during the pandemic, someone started a neighbourhood WhatsApp Group on my street. The initial goal seemed to be to identify volunteers who might be able to help fetch groceries for people who were shielding or self-isolating: Mutual Aid. I don’t actually think the Group was very effective in facilitating this type of help – and perhaps, fortunately, it wasn’t necessary. The self-isolators of whom I was aware had just let their immediate neighbours know, rather than seeking help from the rest of the street. One useful function that it did perform though, was exposing the diversity of people who share my street. Here’s a few examples:
Polio scientist. At the beginning everyone watched him closely to see if he was wearing a mask - if he started wearing a mask, we knew it was serious. He started wearing a mask.
Restaurant manager who learned how to use a sewing machine while furloughed. He spent lockdown making reusable masks from whatever bits of cloth were donated to him. He wouldn’t take any money for them.
Sledgehammer workout guy. He video-ed himself doing fitness workouts with sledgehammers and other household objects, and posted it on youtube. 
Long Covid victim. Physically fit guy in his 30s who was devastated for over 6 months by various symptoms. I had assumed Long Covid was some sort of lingering fatigue, I hadn’t realised that the fatigue is caused by some kind of malfunction of that part of the brain which subconsciously regulates breathing. So, the reason you you get tired is because you have to stay awake to tell yourself to breathe.
Food bankers. Quite a few people seemed to be involved in local food banks, so there were several posts about what the banks were short of, and what they didn’t want. For example, one week they had a surplus of pasta and not enough toiletries.
Journalist who was somehow involved with the Clap for Carers. Most of us clapped - although a necessarily emasculated form of communion, I think it was vaguely therapeutic just to see other people. We understood the ones who didn’t clap, they didn’t want to show support the government’s handling of the public health emergency.
Foodie. Actually quite a few foodies. One in particular had run out of coarse sea-salt and offered to swap for some smoked paprika. I think I detected a few sardonically raised eyebrows when this kind of post was juxtaposed with those of the food bankers, but I don’t think anyone really minded.
NHS worker, responsible for an ICU team. She posted to say she had been charged with running wellbeing courses for her team, all the foodies offered to bake cake. 
Bread oven man (another foodie, presumably). He had built a bread oven in his back garden, and was offering slots to neighbouring bakers (The oven stays hot for a few hours, and he only needed about 45 mins for his own loaf).








My skin is a city wall. Punctuated with arcane crenellations. Protected by a medieval moat of sweat and earwax. But also equipped with a state-of-the-art intrusion detection system: follicular radar. My lips are chapped, but my skin is not all it’s cracked up to be. Its job is to keep out intruders, but the truth is that most intruders get blown away by the wind long before they even get a sniff of my moat. And most of the ones that do get in do so via the mouth and nose. Massive battlement design flaw.
My brain is the city hall, a place where useful idiots and dangerous lunatics can meet to chew the fat. They have a lot to chew – the brain is nearly 60% fat. They are professional decision-makers, but mostly incompetent. Fortunately their work is governed by the rules of a parliamentary constitution which generally limits the havoc they might wreak. I am their constitutional monarch, a philosopher-king but with purely symbolic or ceremonial powers. Listening to their inane banter gives me the illusion of agency, but in reality I am unable to intervene.
Much of the rest of the city appears dirty and smelly, but this is only superficial; scratch the surface and you will uncover real filth! Bloody merchant traders are everywhere bartering oxygen and nutrients for carbon dioxide - although they are also generally quite public-spirited, and often seen plogging litter to the waste and recycling depots. Somehow an invisible hand creates an equilibrium. It’s a diverse and multicultural environment. Opinions vary on whether or not new intruders that make it past the castellations should be tolerated.  Most of them are harmless squatters, drifting in with the wind and dying well before anyone notices. Some are parasitical vermin which threaten the equilibrium, perhaps even existentially. A few are beneficial, and may even go on to become valued members of the community. Deep down, most inhabitants recognise that they themselves were once intruders.
FFFFFFFFLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGSSSSSSSSSSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTDDDDDDEEEEEEECCCCCCCCEEEEEEEENNNNNNNNCCCCCCCCCCYYYYYYYYWho controls the past controls the future. Who controls the present controls the past. G.Orwell



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TXlCnJLNA6k

IN THE NEXT ISSUE: ABATTOIRS, LANDFILLS, PIZZA, SUICIDES AND PORN