Tangible Common Constitution

Life is difficult when, like me, you are under constant surveillance: having my home raided virtually every time it is empty, and on top of that having my writings, concepts, impact statements and sound-bites stolen, only for them to then appear in some shape or form in the UK’s leading right-wing newspaper and on a talk radio station whose presenters use the same – all of this stamps and seals how highly valued, incisive and thought provoking my writing is.

On Tuesday 16th May 2016, I went to visit the Harmony Of The Seas docked at Southampton, UK. Upon arrival in the city and making my way to the open public park adjacent to where the ship was docked, I was surrounded by security personnel, and was even afforded the high respect of having a security helicopter circling overhead. Wow, just for me. I along with everyone else present photographed the ship. Later, while visiting the opposite side of the narrow sea inlet I was stopped by plainclothes officers in an unmarked car who wanted to see my camera and the photos I had taken. They know I am a keen photographer. This has now become a routine for me. They always tell me it is not personal; however, they look ashamed when I ask them how many indigenous natives they have stopped and searched.

A renowned British journalist in his article has already used a sound-bite from this essay in a right wing newspaper…

As indicated by the canon of our human heritage scripture (which regrettably has been commandeered by one national religious group) there was a time when female rule and authority superseded the male perspective and involvement in politics. It was a time when faith communities, along with army and security personnel, the governing community, and the business community, were not allowed to vote because they had influence beyond their station and remit; whereas the common person was allowed to vote precisely because they lacked pre-existing power.

The balance between those with power, and those without, which differentiatial voting rights established, was founded upon certain realities.

Might we able to re-establish this ethos today? And if so, what would it take? Can past practices have currency and be meaningful in today’s climate? Certainly, a sense of representation, having a voice with which to champion a cause, and being able to protect and promote one’s personal concerns seem key to communal well-being.

Frequently we hear and learn about unresolved issues and complaints, where the mechanisms devised to protect the common woman – rather than the common man – are found wanting or are themselves ill-intentioned.

A country’s constitution should foremost protect, enhance, and prescribe (without prohibitions) the ongoing concerns of women – be they young females or fully matured pensioners.

“Thou shalt not…” should not, and in a mature Tangible Common Constitution would not, limit or cast females to subordinate roles. Without a woman no man can be born and subsequently find meditational peace. Therefore, any set of governing rules must not conflict with the essence of female sensibilities. Indeed, the rules that govern ought to be anchored to, and guided by, female sensibilities.

Let me elaborate.

Women are far more inclined to react to situations with circumspection. This is a trait and a modality of behaviour that could have far-reaching and positive implications for everything from earth-rape activities to inter-group warfare.


Circumspection encases degree of movement and action that are tri-directional – one may push forward, retreat, or hold one’s position. These options are not zero-sum, they can be modified, changed and enacted in ways that do not offend one’s opponent.

Circumspection – careful, thoughtful, considered behaviour – renders inane the male perspective that every action has one, normatively aggressive, possible reaction. Insult and injury thus become sources of reflection rather than inciting immediate reactive action. Furthermore, female circumspection-based political power dovetails neatly with other forms of power, notably economic and social.

Another redeeming feature of womanhood is that of not pigeon-holing each and every thought and idea. In this, women have similarities with some non-western states.

Consider how, in the West, for example a penchant for classifying things leads to the development of categories, typologies, and formal structures that define some activities as corrupt (which needs to be stamped out); meanwhile formalizing a system that by these rules ought to be considered corrupt but which instead allows people to engage in legally corrupt activities, as for example, when they set off expenses against tax liabilities.

In other countries, where labeling and pigeon-holing is not a national pastime, and where activities are evaluated in terms of complex social contexts and relationships, corruption is a largely foreign concept. But these countries of honest barter and exchange are deemed by the classification-loving countries to be corrupt, while their own deceitful cunning masquerades as honest brokerage.

The same distinction can be applied to male and female power. The former is aggressive, evasive, classificatory, imposing value judgments on others while assuming superiority for itself. The latter has an affinity with social realities and relationships, and is focused on maintaining these while pursuing balance and accord, transparency and accountability.

Male power negates female power by overpowering it with shoddy unkemptness and bully-governing, where rules are made up as one goes along to maximize benefits to one’s self and one’s own power. Sure, a woman might make it to a governing council seat within a male power framework – may be ‘allowed’ to sit at the table of power – but she does so as window-dressing, and is consistently talked down, her voice drowned out, subjected to mansplaining. Because, male power is no more than a school-boys adventure club, its rules and practices conjured up on platforms high up in secret tree-houses.

Male power discards the fact that female governance is satisfying, fulfilling, elegant even; to do otherwise would be to accept that they (men) by comparison are valuable primarily as beasts of burden, and as the brawn to the female brains of warfare. In the current configuration, male power in analogous to a military coup-let government whose power has been secured without the formal vote. Femalehood, in this analogy, corresponds to the population ruled by threat of death at the hands of the armed man.

So, how to achieve natural high-grade female governance?

A Tangible Common Constitution

Its features would follow the female power ideal, in which the disenfranchised are incorporated as functioning and valuable members of society, their invigorated self-esteem renewing family and extended-family relationships in positive ways, their self-worth inspiring a happy and balanced sociality that extends beyond the personal and communal to the national and international. Concomitantly, characteristics of male power and governance subside, such as the merciless pressure to always compete and win, to be a relentless social climber, to pursue thinly veiled dictatorship as a panacea to crippling lack of self-esteem.

Governance and social structure in this mould would render the ego of male power subservient to the sociality of female power. Power would not be attained through first-past-the post or proportional representation electoral systems. Power would reside instead with the social group whose duty it is to govern – those who, importantly, regard it as a duty rather than a right. Similarly, the army would comprise the social group that coheres around the ideal of social protection, the business community would comprise that group which most closely aligns with the traits and ideals of that role, and so on and so forth.

Yet, the boundaries would be porous; individuals whose talents lie in particular directions would be able to follow the corresponding occupation. Overall governance would rest with female leaders, selected-elected by the population; and neither the military nor the business or other occupations and social roles would intervene but would function instead within and according to their own respective remits and talents.

On one hand, the Tangible Common Constitution negates the concept of majority rule; on the other, it safeguards the concept of a society that functions without fear of victimisation or marginalisation.

Is this not more redeeming than the current system in which the ‘free world’ has been overrun by idiots and buffoons for the past thirty years? Britain had a common-garden con-artist, liar, and murderer in Tony Blair, who hung on to the coat-tails of the U.S president, George W Bush, as they committed mass murder of innocent people instead of simply taking to task individual regime leaders.

I feel deeply appalled and disgusted that in my name innocent lives were taken in order to satisfy the bloodlust of two egotistical men who would hide under the table or indeed in the toilet if a bar-room brawl broke out. The truth is that these two sub-five inchers are not street fighters, yet they engaged in a proxy street fight using other women’s sons and daughters as their military.

Some of you may point to British prime minister Mrs. Margaret Thatcher as either an example of, or indictment against, female power. The thing with Mrs.Thatcher is that she was competing in a mans world, and she had to have bigger balls than the men around her in order to attain power and be seen by the population as legitimately doing so. But what does it means to have balls, other than being prepared to be more heinous than the next guy. She is the exact opposite of the model and pathway of the Tangible Common Constitution I have described. She remains in my memory “Mrs. Thatcher, milk snatcher”, having stopped the daily distribution of milk to schoolchildren in the U.K. (made mandatory after the European war of 1939-45). Milk was a vital part of the diet. In stealing it, and thereby saving mere pennies on behalf of her beloved conservative government, Mrs. Thatcher showed she had balls. Her policy set in motion the removal of free school dinners by subsequent governments.

An entire social edifice brought down as the result of one person proving they had bigger balls than another person. Maybe an economist out there can tell me precisely what wealth was created, or has been enhanced, by stealing milk and food from the U.K’s schoolchildren, and thereby forcing them to consume cheap junk food, that causes health problems, which ends up burdening the NHS, impeding quality of life, contributing to sick days, leading to the development of mental health problems that compound the physical ones, systemically eroding any sense of self-worth and social value of a young growing child might have had?

Echoing the way that breast feeding is not frowned upon, but is seen as a natural rather than a sexual act in many countries outside Europe, a Tangible Common Constitution would redefine human dignity along the lines of femalehood and remove the spectre of malehood’s mindlessness in the process.

Is any of this possible?

Yes, in small stages.

Will I see it happen?



In one of the States in India.

Emperor Nero and his Mistress

Emperor Nero wooed his Mistress in a lush oasis miles from dunes and sand, at a camp named after the Hebrew royal David. In Armenian, Kurdish, Russian, Sanskrit, Gurmukhi, Hindi, and Urdu, Jews are still called by their original name of Hebrew.

The Mistress opinioned that war was a last resort and even then only as a defence, but Emperor Nero was a determined charmer and seducer. He charmed, and the Mistress was duly seduced and gave an oath to lead the verbal charge laced in guile and deceit. Thus began a new world order: an order based on corruption, misinformation, falsification, sexing up of documents, and the feathering of one’s own pockets as well as of those of one’s generals and henchmen.

The Mistress, head of a clan-nation island off the shore of a mainland, spared no one upon return from Oasis David, four days’ sailing away, and galvanized the neuro-idiots with an emotionally cooked oral schedule reinventing Sodium Hazelbean, formerly an allay, as paradigmatic of an aggressive Lady-Boy prostitute who steals gentlemen’s wallets without providing much sought after relief in return. “Oh, the shameless thief” shouted the neuro-idiots in unison in tandem with the Gentlemen and Gentlewomen Dacoits ensconced in plush, leather green benches as the elected nose in trough representatives in the Home of Elected Representatives of the neuro-idiots and the rest of the islands asses.

To make the case righteous and honorable, an eminent expert Doctor who happened to have a PhD in an appropriate ology, was paid to waffle a document supporting Lady-Boy Sodium’s illegal procurement of weapons from a weapons wholesaler other than Emperor Nero. “What!” shouted the neuro-idiots, “what!” (they have a habit of repeating ‘what’) “another weapons wholesaler and not Emperor Nero…well, this simply will not do” and so documents were duly presented to the Home of Elected Representatives.

Flies, there is always one isn’t there, and this fly had an untimely rendezvous with its fatal enemy, ointment, was that the Doctor turned out to be a tad too honest. Must have been a signed-up practicing member at the altar of the church Atheist. Let’s face it, no self-respecting monkey wrench or upwardly mobile career ‘servant’ of a recognised religious fraternity would have the testicles to speak out…but our honest PhD certainly did.

His objection? The document carrying his name, as presented to the Home of the Elected Representatives, had zero content similar to the document he had delivered to the oily autocrat. In an attempt to balance the honesty, Doctor Honest secured the ear-hole of Beer Belly journalist, who in turn inked the facts of the difference between the two documents. I always thought sweat, saliva and bodily fluids were the preserve of human-animals having sex, but no, I be wrong here. Apparently, documents can be sexed up too. Well I never.

Unfortunately, in the midst of all of this Doctor Honest went out to clear his head and decided to have a tug of war to test a theory that if he sped away in his car he could pull a tree from its roots. He tied a rope to a tree trunk and sitting in his car he tied the other end to his neck and sped away. Tree trunk was unmoved. Doctor Honest was no more. Naturally, conspiracy theorists abound with various outlandish ideas suggesting he was taking a blood sample with a syringe from an alien encounter. Sad fact is, Doctor Honest is no more, and in some quarters is mourned as a victim of the impending war against Lady-Boy Sodium Hazelbean.

Now, Lady-Boy Sodium Hazelbean, as the Head Honcho of a far away isolated region – his two bit parcel of land was called U-Rack – well, his best aerial attack projectile was papier mache on thin bamboo sticks controlled by string. Apparently, Mistress had nightmares of an imminent attack by a squadron of papier mache on thin bamboo sticks controlled by a length of string. Neuro-idiots foamed at the mouth and demanded protection from the imminent attack. The fact it took ten sailing days from the isolated piece of land U-rack to Mistress’ island was neither here nor there. Neuro-idiots swam in the tidal belief that a squadron of papier mache on thin bamboo sticks controlled by a length of string could attack in forty five minutes from U-Rack.

The drums were struck, and Mistress, looking with dewy-eyed longing into the eyes of Emperor Nero, strode into war. Lady-Boy Sodium Hazelbean stood no chance with the rest of the world ganged up against him, for fear of becoming Emperor Nero and Mistress’ next target.

Papier mache on bamboo sticks controlled by string stood no chance against fire breathing dragons flying through the air in the middle of a moonless night. One day later the attack was over, and the former ally, Lady-Boy Sodium Hazelbean, was removed. The people of the land simply exchanged one brutal dictator with another. Mass killing of its people carried on mercilessly for countless moons, season after season.

In all of this, I find it objectionable that some people, living as free and fearless people on various pieces of land, have come to call Emperor Nero the slang for pubic hair, a four letter word starting with the letter B. I refuse to dishonour a brave honorable leader of free thinkers with such demeaning names. Emperor Nero is Emperor Nero. And as for the Mistress, at times it is most unpleasant to hear the adjective B-Liar shouted out at the Mistress.

We have to realise and accept that the Mistress was internally and deeply touched in a part that an ordinary man cannot touch. Thus, we must respect the coupling of Emperor Nero and the Mistress. Another thing that I find very distasteful is the allegation that the billions amassed by the love birds are ill-gotten gains. Hell no, they worked bloody hard for that cake.

Now, the issue is that there always has to be God in such equations for it to become quadratic, lest they fall into the ignominy of indices, or much worse loll around as algebra.

And as a new inductee into the higher realms I am going to share a secret with you. The God of Emperor Nero and the Mistress is the God named the Devil. And it has to be said, Ali-Looya is not the word that comes to mind when one thinks of God-Devil.

Now, if you profess an attachment to God-Kindness and Fair, then guys, forget material wealth. God-Kindness and Fair governs nature, you know, jungle type of nature.

So now, you decide which God you prefer to pay obeisance to.

…and one day I aim to meet a master who can teach me sardonic wit.