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Living off the land 100%

*sighs*

Remember this post on another of Stanley's "adventures"?

I am going to bed. Some dirty little Moroccans are hounding my stuff.

Sorry for that, but it is the way it is!

I do.

Most of the time Stan passes under my radar, but every now and then he posts an interesting looking thread that quickly becomes clear he isn't doing what he's boasted he will do. Accusations of jealousy follow after a bit of pisstaking. Stan might then flounce. Or post some nasty shit.

Shame.
 
I
Some day I will go to Aarhus
To see his peat-brown head,
The mild pods of his eye-lids,
His pointed skin cap.

In the flat country near by
Where they dug him out,
His last gruel of winter seeds
Caked in his stomach,

Naked except for
The cap, noose and girdle,
I will stand a long time.
Bridegroom to the goddess,

She tightened her torc on him
And opened her fen,
Those dark juices working
Him to a saint's kept body,

Trove of the turfcutters'
Honeycombed workings.
Now his stained face
Reposes at Aarhus.



II
I could risk blasphemy,
Consecrate the cauldron bog
Our holy ground and pray
Him to make germinate

The scattered, ambushed
Flesh of labourers,
Stockinged corpses
Laid out in the farmyards,

Tell-tale skin and teeth
Flecking the sleepers
Of four young brothers, trailed
For miles along the lines.

III

Something of his sad freedom
As he rode the tumbril
Should come to me, driving,
Saying the names

Tollund, Grauballe, Nebelgard,
Watching the pointing hands
Of country people,
Not knowing their tongue.

Out here in Jutland
In the old man-killing parishes
I will feel lost,
Unhappy and at home.
 
I
Some day I will go to Aarhus
To see his peat-brown head,
The mild pods of his eye-lids,
His pointed skin cap.

In the flat country near by
Where they dug him out,
His last gruel of winter seeds
Caked in his stomach,

Naked except for
The cap, noose and girdle,
I will stand a long time.
Bridegroom to the goddess,

She tightened her torc on him
And opened her fen,
Those dark juices working
Him to a saint's kept body,

Trove of the turfcutters'
Honeycombed workings.
Now his stained face
Reposes at Aarhus.



II
I could risk blasphemy,
Consecrate the cauldron bog
Our holy ground and pray
Him to make germinate

The scattered, ambushed
Flesh of labourers,
Stockinged corpses
Laid out in the farmyards,

Tell-tale skin and teeth
Flecking the sleepers
Of four young brothers, trailed
For miles along the lines.

III

Something of his sad freedom
As he rode the tumbril
Should come to me, driving,
Saying the names

Tollund, Grauballe, Nebelgard,
Watching the pointing hands
Of country people,
Not knowing their tongue.

Out here in Jutland
In the old man-killing parishes
I will feel lost,
Unhappy and at home.
Stan is often looking for a decent bog.
 
I
Some day I will go to Aarhus
To see his peat-brown head,
The mild pods of his eye-lids,
His pointed skin cap.

In the flat country near by
Where they dug him out,
His last gruel of winter seeds
Caked in his stomach,

Naked except for
The cap, noose and girdle,
I will stand a long time.
Bridegroom to the goddess,

She tightened her torc on him
And opened her fen,
Those dark juices working
Him to a saint's kept body,

Trove of the turfcutters'
Honeycombed workings.
Now his stained face
Reposes at Aarhus.



II
I could risk blasphemy,
Consecrate the cauldron bog
Our holy ground and pray
Him to make germinate

The scattered, ambushed
Flesh of labourers,
Stockinged corpses
Laid out in the farmyards,

Tell-tale skin and teeth
Flecking the sleepers
Of four young brothers, trailed
For miles along the lines.

III

Something of his sad freedom
As he rode the tumbril
Should come to me, driving,
Saying the names

Tollund, Grauballe, Nebelgard,
Watching the pointing hands
Of country people,
Not knowing their tongue.

Out here in Jutland
In the old man-killing parishes
I will feel lost,
Unhappy and at home.
Aarhus
In the middle of our street
 
See what I mean, spanglechick? Utter lack of self-awareness. He reinvents his motivations as he goes, even when there is concrete evidence by way of his posts. For example, in the post about how he reacted in the supermarket he states that he purposely whipped his backpack around to knock the young woman over. Now he is saying he did not abuse anyone physically. Even though his own words are right there in black and white.
TBF, we can revise our recollections of things, or realise that we might have slanted them in a particular way the first time around and regret that.

But there is an easy remedy to such things - you admit it. And move on. But if you try to move on without admitting it, people tend to call you out on it. I still wonder how much of what Stanley reports to have happened occurred as he claims it to, and I suspect that he may have a struggle trying to keep his story/ies straight as they rewrite themselves over time to suit the prevailing circumstances.
 
TBF, we can revise our recollections of things, or realise that we might have slanted them in a particular way the first time around and regret that.

But there is an easy remedy to such things - you admit it. And move on. But if you try to move on without admitting it, people tend to call you out on it. I still wonder how much of what Stanley reports to have happened occurred as he claims it to, and I suspect that he may have a struggle trying to keep his story/ies straight as they rewrite themselves over time to suit the prevailing circumstances.
Either that or he straightforwardly actually is the odious individual he makes out that he is.

Could go either way.
 
Piss poor excuse for a human who treats anyone with learning disabilities like that. I wonder if the pacifist, 'never thrown a punch' would have acted the same way confronted with a male equal to himself?

My friend Martin, who we buried two years ago aged 42, had Downs. His brother Seamus also had learning disabilities.

They used to break pallets and other scrap wood to make 'sticks' (kindling for firelighting) for beer money. I had another mate who was a foreman in a Pine furniture factory in Dundalk. They had skips full of scrap timber that they used to pay somebody to take away.

I put the two in touch and very soon Martin and Seamus were flat out on the beer, giving it large in local hostelries as they insisted on buying drink for every person who had previously showed them kindness - and there were many.

Once they got this out of their system they became regular stick tycoons. Well Martin did. He paid Seamus a wage and kept the bulk of the profit for himself, as he reckoned he was the brains of the operation and giving Seamus too much money only encouraged him to overindulge the booze.

I used to love watching the two of them squabbling away like Waldorf and Stadtler off The Muppets whilst they worked. They both had a mischievous sense of humour, sometimes downright dark, and both loved to point out the others shortcomings and 'stupidity'.

Martin was loved by all and his funeral really brought home just how busy he was and how many different groups of people he engaged with and did voluntary work with. People from his local GAA Club, all the local Trad musicians (he loved his Sessions and Fleadhs), the local Lourdes Committe, the OAP Luncheon Club, all the shopkeepers who bought his sticks, people from the Rainbow Club, The youth club etc etc. He lived a rich and fulfilling life that would put many, supposedly more 'able' people, to shame.

But he could also be a contrary little fucker on occasion. When he was annoyed he could be wicked, especially to Seamus. Fortunately for him, he came from a family and a community that would, whilst still making allowances, not stand for too much nonsense. Sometimes he had to be told forcefully to behave himself and on occasion he had to be threatened, to have his card marked, to quieten him. He would storm off to sulk, then come back smiling again.

He would have laughed his cock off at the thought that people with Downs are incapable of being ignorant, provocative and aggressive and somehow deserve a bye-ball and total indulgence when behaving badly.

I, like everybody else on here, wasn't in that Supermarket when Stanley Edwards deliberately bumped into that woman with his backpack. His reaction may well have been over the top. It certainly seems a bit childish. But to characterise his actions as 'assaulting' some delicate, defenceless flower - complete with allegations that he punched her - seems equally childish.

I know if Martin was watching the incident, he would have sniggered and said 'Job for her'. Like I said, his humour could be dark.

Stanley's interaction certainly seems a bit inappropriate, but no more inapproriate than the patronisation of those who believe all people with LD are just 'lovely' and that their occasional aggressive behaviour should be indulged.

And certainly no more inappropriate than the behaviour of those who, because they choose not to like Stanley, reularly choose to misrepresent what he said he did.

If you don't like his thread, keep the fuck off it. There are plenty of others, full of 'nice-ish' posters.
 
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Well I'm saddened I don't have any reason to judge Stan except at face value and I for one enjoyed the posts and what I had assumed was good natured banter along the way , given and taken in that light. I had also assumed maybe wrongly the mocking was gentle and in good spirit - but maybe not. And to the real haters who would like him off the forum and out of their lives why bother reading a thread from somebody who for whatever reason you don't like. It's says more about you than it does Stan and you can now take pride that you've achieved you goal. At least I can find something more useful to do now.....Thanks Stan. :thumbs:

TBF, the more I read replies, the more the history & baggage that comes with it becomes clear.

There's only one person responsible for that.
 
LiamO, you knew Martin, his abilities, his temperament and humour; Stan didn't know this girl, or the impact his actions (of which he was proud) may have had on her.

Fair points Athos . I'm not defending Stan really. Just making a wider point.

And I don't consider some of those trolling and hounding Stan any better than him.

Some people are slagging/taking the piss and that's OK. He certainly sets himself up for it. But there is some downright nastiness going on here too.
 
I think you might as well hang up your keyboard now, not topping that one in a hurry.



Excelsior


By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow



The shades of night were falling fast,
As through an Alpine village passed
A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice,
A banner with the strange device,
Excelsior!

His brow was sad; his eye beneath,
Flashed like a falchion from its sheath,
And like a silver clarion rung
The accents of that unknown tongue,
Excelsior!

In happy homes he saw the light
Of household fires gleam warm and bright;
Above, the spectral glaciers shone,
And from his lips escaped a groan,
Excelsior!

"Try not the Pass!" the old man said;
"Dark lowers the tempest overhead,
The roaring torrent is deep and wide!"
And loud that clarion voice replied,
Excelsior!

"Oh stay," the maiden said, "and rest
Thy weary head upon this breast! "
A tear stood in his bright blue eye,
But still he answered, with a sigh,
Excelsior!

"Beware the pine-tree's withered branch!
Beware the awful avalanche!"
This was the peasant's last Good-night,
A voice replied, far up the height,
Excelsior!

At break of day, as heavenward
The pious monks of Saint Bernard
Uttered the oft-repeated prayer,
A voice cried through the startled air,
Excelsior!

A traveller, by the faithful hound,
Half-buried in the snow was found,
Still grasping in his hand of ice
That banner with the strange device,
Excelsior!

There in the twilight cold and gray,
Lifeless, but beautiful, he lay,
And from the sky, serene and far,
A voice fell like a falling star,
Excelsior!
 
I like Stanley, I clearly see that he isn't perfect, and that because of his own actions on occasion he has become a somewhat controversial figure. But when a lot of people gather to attack one poster I often wonder just how perfect they are themselves.

I think it is possible to see good things in people who are not perfect.

So, those who are having a go at Stanley, how perfect are you?
 
I like Stanley, I clearly see that he isn't perfect, and that because of his own actions on occasion he has become a somewhat controversial figure. But when a lot of people gather to attack one poster I often wonder just how perfect they are themselves.

I think it is possible to see good things in people who are not perfect.

So, those who are having a go at Stanley, how perfect are you?
110%
 
I like Stanley, I clearly see that he isn't perfect, and that because of his own actions on occasion he has become a somewhat controversial figure. But when a lot of people gather to attack one poster I often wonder just how perfect they are themselves.

I think it is possible to see good things in people who are not perfect.

So, those who are having a go at Stanley, how perfect are you?
100%
 
I like Stanley, I clearly see that he isn't perfect, and that because of his own actions on occasion he has become a somewhat controversial figure. But when a lot of people gather to attack one poster I often wonder just how perfect they are themselves.

I think it is possible to see good things in people who are not perfect.

So, those who are having a go at Stanley, how perfect are you?
Wholly
 
I like Stanley, I clearly see that he isn't perfect, and that because of his own actions on occasion he has become a somewhat controversial figure. But when a lot of people gather to attack one poster I often wonder just how perfect they are themselves.

I think it is possible to see good things in people who are not perfect.

So, those who are having a go at Stanley, how perfect are you?
BTW next time some racist cunt rocks up are you going to defend them in the same way?
 
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