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Messages - richard ford

1
Main / Surviving the matriarchy.
Jun 18, 2006, 10:13 AM
Always face the traffic.

When walking along a country road one should always face the traffic. There are a number of reasons for this, firstly, if a driver is not paying attention and looks like running you down then you can always jump into a ditch and save yourself.

Not all accidents are truly accidents however- and cars the favourite weapons of angry women. It is also rumoured that the security services in the UK use traffic accidents as a means of removing people they find embarrassing. This may well be nothing but paranoia- but we must remember that feminists have infiltrated most areas of government so why should we not find them in the security services?

Far more likely than outright assassination is surveillance. A surprising number of people are followed for bureaucratic reasons. Once a person is seen as being of interest to the security service then they may be watched for years for no other reason than bureaucratic inertia. You may argue that you have nothing to hide and for this reason you will take no surveillance countermeasures. My answer to this is that you probably have something in your past that would embarrass either you or someone else. This may be used to discredit you even though nobody was hurt by your original actions.

You cannot detect of prevent a high priority surveillance team from looking into your life but costly operations such as these are reserved for terrorists and members of foreign intelligence services. We are far less important than these people and for this reason face a lower grade of spook. Simple precautions such as facing the traffic can make it obvious to the activist that he is being surveyed by car. Once the same car has passed us four times we will almost certainly notice it, even if we have no reason to be suspicious.

Always face the traffic.
2
Main / Surviving the matriarchy.
Jun 18, 2006, 08:01 AM
Survival No 1

Every man who truly wishes to be free must expect to fight for it.

Feminism owns men as slaves, and few slave owners give up their property freely. Make no mistake- your walk to freedom threatens someone's unearned income!

By learning to say 'no' to women you will eventually earn their respect (the irony being that you no longer need it) but before you reach this stage you will have to face her anger.

A man must learn the tricks of women to be free.
3
Main / The mind of a feminist
Sep 04, 2005, 11:36 PM
By the way- is there anyone out there who wishes to link to me?
4
Main / The mind of a feminist
Sep 04, 2005, 11:34 PM
You have produced a quite brilliant site, Karl. I link to it myself.

The best thing you can do is promote it to people who may be open to change. I am currently getting 600 visitors a month and this is rising all the time.

If I want to do some one to one peusuasion I do it face to fac but only where there is a real possibility of life change.

You then have the raw material for a men's group. Unfortunately dueling with feminists will never give you either the reach or the depth of these two activities.

www.underground-railroad.org.uk

http://http://
5
History and Politics / Men on the verge
Sep 04, 2005, 03:00 AM
Hey you guys.

Why do you alow idiot trolls to hijack the conversation like this?

Ignore her or ban her.
6
Main / Another box filled
Aug 20, 2005, 04:11 PM
Far too dangerious.

I prefer them stupid.
7
Main / Another box filled
Aug 20, 2005, 12:58 PM
Another box filled. Copyright Richard Ford.

I have been carrying out an experiment these last few months that seems absurd much of the time- but is producing interesting data nevertheless.

I have been placing crystals in wooden tea boxes as quickly as I can drink the tea. This is supposed to have effects in the real world by a process of mental transference. This is of course an absurd thing to do- if only it did not keep on producing desired effects.

I dedicated a box to my website on the twelfth of this month. On the thirteenth my blog was re indexed by blogshares and showed no growth whatever. Furthermore my market share had declined. This seemed an initial failure but blogshares only updates every week or so. I did some work on the site and waited. These are the results.

7 July      1379.97

1 August 1379.97

9 August 1379.97

12 August start of experiment.

13 August 1379.97

18 August 1479.97

20 August 1616.12


The blogshares blog price calculator is an obscure and indirect way to measure site traffic. I have no idea how it is calculated and the price does not seem to be related to other data they supply. I use this indicator simply because I do not have traffic information. I can also compare my own effort to other blogs I admire.

As with all my other experiments there are alternative explanations. I have reorganised and tidied the site up a great deal.
My next experiment will be something that cannot be faked. I will aim to divert traffic to sites I do not control.
8
Main / Finding a reason for my blog to exist
Aug 16, 2005, 02:24 PM
Your own site is great.
9
Main / Finding a reason for my blog to exist
Aug 16, 2005, 02:09 PM
Blogs seem to be 'it' at the moment. Partly because bloggers visit other blogs all the time.

I am not sure of my hits.
10
Main / Finding a reason for my blog to exist
Aug 13, 2005, 02:09 PM
I will take up your generious offers as soon as I have completed my editing and pretyfying of my blog. It is quite astonishing how much difference it makes to the readability of the thing. I guess it will take about fivety hours in total. Then I will promote it.
11
Main / Finding a reason for my blog to exist
Aug 13, 2005, 04:51 AM
I have edited my site a bit and think it is now more readable.

Thank you for your advice. My blog (according to Blogshares) is the 60th most popular gender blog they are aware of. (They are only aware of 71 of them.)

This motivates me to aim for 59.
12
Main / Finding a reason for my blog to exist
Aug 12, 2005, 04:21 PM
Thank you for taking the time to advise me on my blog. The paragraphing I now use is an imitation of Angry Harry and Darren.

I am not completely sure of the fiction myself- I just wanted something different, a USP.

You are certainly right about the pictures.

I have the aim of contributing a million pounds to my chartable trust. Many people would like to know how I intend to make a million.
13
Main / Finding a reason for my blog to exist
Aug 09, 2005, 04:05 PM
Finding a reason to exist.

I have been aware for some time that my blog, www.underground-railroad.org.uk has been struggling to find an audience.

Firstly, it is ugly.

Secondly, I use too many words.

Internet writing is all sound bites- short paragraphs and short words. It is more like a comic book than a novel because attention spans are shortening all the time.

I write as if I had a captive audience- slabs of words that say great things if only one had the patience to read them all.

This will have to change.

My ego demands an audience of thousands!!!

I will change the layout but first I must find my USP- Unique Selling Point.

What can I do that nobody else is doing?...apart from slabs of text two thousand words long?

Fiction.

I will promote male writers and male friendly writers.

Women have the Orange prize. Only women writers can win the Orange prize but this is never honestly stated. The reader is left with the impression the winner of the Orange prize has written the best book available and not just the best book by a woman.

This is not only fraudulent but cannot be justified. Why should one sex receive help and not the other? Why? No answer is ever given.

We are only men after all.

The invisible people. People without feelings or inner lives.

Half-men in other words. Living yet somehow already dead. We have all heard the song 'only women bleed' and this has become official dogma. Only women hurt. Only women feel sad or lonely or tired. Only women have any right to express their pain because if a man feels pain he is a wimp.

How has this occurred?
One way is by making men invisible in our culture.

Do you see men talking about their lives on daytime TV? No.

Men are busy working.

Do you see the inner lives of men depicted in literature.

No.

You read of men blowing things up or dieing but you learn nothing about the man himself. His fears, his sadness, his hopes.

The man himself has become invisible.

He is the one who works to keep the lights burning. He prints the books, he builds the TV sets, but never appears on them.

Man has lost himself. He labours so that women can be fully human, so that women can feel what he himself cannot. He is a lesser grade of being.

In Medieval Europe only the nobility had feelings, we are told (this is why we talk of noble feelings).

The serfs were too busy to be human beings.

Very little has changed. Where literature was about nobility now it is about women. Men act. Women feel.

We need a new literature that recognises that men do have inner lives. Even ordinary lives have moments of discovery. Men have second rate legal rights but we do not have second rate souls.

If you fancy yourself as a writer then please send your stuff to me. I will publish it under your name on the site. Reserve the copyright by putting the words 'Copyright my name' somewhere on the document and I will market the site to publishing companies.

Perhaps you will gain a contract.

Stranger things have happened.

Start writing your book today. It is easier to write knowing someone is waiting upon the next chapter and wants to know what happens next.

Just make a start.
14
Main / The sky hanger
Aug 09, 2005, 03:56 PM
The sky hanger. Copyright Richard Ford.


Well, this is it then.

I suppose I must be dead.

It is the silence that gets me first. I cannot hear the wind although I can hear the faintest hum from traffic far below. I suppose the reason for this is that I no longer have ears and so the wind passes through me.

I ought to be excited but in reality I feel- nothing.

Now that my old body has gone from me I am glad to see the back of it. It was nothing but a bother to me for at least five years or so. Why does anyone bother with bodies anyway if it so easy to do without them? I realised that I could control my altitude so I moved a little closer to see who enters and leaves the home.

How I hate family fuss! The power games that go with death! Who has the right to be most upset and who has the right to be comforted! Why do people fight and compete to be associated with it all? Would they do it if they knew how banal and unremarkable it all was? Probably. It has nothing to do with my death at all really and everything to do with being the one to organize the funeral.

Would I still be hovering around here when the funeral started? It all seems so..... Indecisive. When I started rising an hour or two ago I thought I was going to heaven despite all expectations. Now I just seem to be hanging around like a balloon caught in a tree.

I try to move out across the open fields but lose momentum. I would be good to see something of the world even if I am dead. Unfortunately being dead seems to have robbed me of my appetite for, well, life. I was always so full of life even when I was dieing. People would come to sit with me- a cancer patient- to be cheered up. I was always rather proud of that and it rather scandalised my wife who has now appointed herself focal point of all grief. It was hard for her to do this before- poor thing- when I was alive. How could she gather the family around her when they would rather visit me in hospital and come away laughing. She puts such a downer on things. 'There is no point in worrying about death because it is the ultimate nothing!' I would tell her. Still, she would persist in her solemn preparations, insisting on briefing everyone of every step in my demise. Still... I am sure she is happy in her way and I did not want to spoil her big day by taking her out of the spotlight.

We have three children. One of each I used to tell Judith, my wife. He did not like this sort of talk as she was a nominal Christian and one of my two daughters is a lesbian. Somehow Judith seemed to blame me for this as if my lack of solemnity somehow contributed to it. In fact I was rather amused. I have lived a rather conventional life, supporting my family and working hard. I have never regretted this. Life is not always fun and you take what it throws at you. I held the family together even though Judith saw herself in this role- always organising family get events and so on. We had our differences but I was part of a generation that believed in duty. You cannot just discard the idea of duty because it is part of who you are...... anyway we brought up three fine children. I am proud of them all.

I opted for a Humanist funeral because I have never believed in a God and because I wanted to give those pofaced Methodists Judith brought round the house all the time something to talk about. A Humanist funeral and a lesbian daughter! I am surprised they could even drink the tea without choking. I wondered if there was still time to change my funeral choice, since there seemed to be some sort of an afterlife- even if it was not that exciting as yet. I decided that Ian, my Humanist funeral director was probably not the sort of person to visit mediums so contacting him would be a waste of time. It would be nice to tell somebody (preferably a religious person) just what happens after death but I did not know how to do it. Perhaps they all go to heaven anyway and I am being kept down here as a punishment for my humanist views and lesbian daughter- I never thought God was a particularly reasonable or trustworthy sort of person based upon the bible so this seemed just the sort of meaningless cruelty he might inflict.

Perhaps I was now a demon! This cheered me up a great deal. I could torment the Methodists! Provoke orgies in the community hall! Slaughter black cockerels in the churchyard.

Perhaps the devil has a special department for humanists who did not believe in him.

This was worth exploring. I felt my spirits rise. I had all of eternity ahead of me and no responsibilities of any kind! All I had to do was learn how to control my movement and I would be free!

I willed myself forward time and time again. Each time I would move forward only a few feet and then come back. I was getting so frustrated and angry that I was even considering praying to God but was worried to draw His attention to me. What if I were supposed to be in hell as a non believer? Perhaps I had simply been forgotten in a clerical error.

No. I would not risk it yet.

Perhaps I would be free after the funeral. I would do my duty and wait for Judith to have her day and then I would escape.

I waited...

And waited...

Nightfall. A little light rain.

Another day of waiting. Another night. More waiting.

At last the funeral, but no release!

I am still here overlooking the house in which I lived dutifully for most of my adult life! Am I to remain here forever?

Panic. Depression and finally a form of acceptance.

One dull morning I am looking out over the railway tracks and see a fox. I marvel at the simplicity of its life and its freedom.

Suddenly I am that fox! I feel what the fox feels- I can smell all of nature. I am free.

Then I realise the secret of my freedom. It is to stop thinking of myself as a part of the family. I am not someone who has to be released from my role as husband and father by my wife or anyone else. I can become something else instantly by choice.

I should have realised that twenty years ago when I was still alive.
15
Main / The joy of being a nut.
Aug 09, 2005, 07:48 AM
The joy of being a nut. Richard Ford.

I have been offensive and extreme to some people and for this I would like to apologise. This is a symptom of not allowing my inner lunatic to run free. Now that I can recognise my vocation- an extremist nut who is entertaining to a great many people- I can depersonalise my anger. I no longer feel hostility to those who have hurt me because I have become a sort of licensed clown. A clown may speak the truth that no one else may because this truth is softened by laughter. The clown may not be credited with wisdom but he opens the door to people who come after him and say very similar things- this time without laughter.

For far too many years I was ashamed of everything I was. I liked to tie women up, 'force' them to clean the house. Yet I wanted to be emotionally close to these women. I wanted a friend and an equal and so I was ashamed. I was also scared of embarrassing my family and felt that I needed to be taken seriously in order to do good in the world.

None of this was true. I gradually came to realise that women wanted to place themselves under my control because of my gentleness and not despite it. I also realised in my soul (rather than just my mind) that what I wanted to do had nothing to do with abuse. Everything I have ever done was from feeling of great love and cutting off this side of me also killed my protective and loving feelings towards women in general. It is true that my good intentions have been abused in the past but the way forward to allow these wounds to be healed.

Only a few weeks ago I wrote that I had no feelings towards women whatever. This was true. I wanted to protect women from my anger so I closed myself off from them. Unfortunately this preserved the anger as well (I was even seriously thinking of getting a cat). On Sunday I attended church for the first time in many years. I just sat there and let God speak to me in any way he may wish to. To my surprise I was flooded with sexual fantasies and went back to my flat and masturbated three times- something I did not do even as a teenager and I am nearly fifty now.  Great part of my anger has now gone. I am able to accept my part in the abuse that I allowed to be heaped upon me. None of it was my fault but I protected her as she abused me- and I can see the abuse as a joint effort.

I can also see that I have had the privilege to meet some wonderful submissive women who risked a great deal emotionally in their desperation to submit. Most of the time I just ran away from this wonderful gift. This is more than one man has the right to expect life to give him. I as given opportunity after opportunity to express my real nature but each time I blew it.

Women have handed me the gift of submission and service again and again- but I was horrified at the idea of inequality. I cannot blame them for finally turning around and kicking me in the balls. I can only wonder at their patience and generosity. I could have had anything I wanted- absolutely anything. This was even true of a heiress to some 35 million pounds.
I cannot say that life or women have been cruel to me overall. My problem is that I erected a fence around myself that would only admit bad things. I wanted to be the giver and the rescuer but the women I was attracting to me wanted to serve me. The only way they could achieve satisfaction was by giving me pleasure but I could not be 'selfish' and receive it.

Picture this. I visit my girlfriend, she has a meal for me. She compliments me, flirts with me, runs a bath for me, gives me a full body massage and finishes off with a BJ. She wants nothing more than to please me and yet nothing happens. I can only think how selfish I am being and then I worry that she might be hurt by my lack of interest. The harder she works at me the more I worry about the lack of appreciation my body is giving her. After an hour of heroic efforts, I stop her. I feel like shit because I have disappointed her and she feels like shit because she thinks she has done something wrong. She tries harder next time and I become more guilty.

The really ironic thing is that this Serrano turns me on. In my dreams it always works and my pleasure gives satisfaction to the girl- but in real life I cannot be selfish even if it the only way to give pleasure.

The reason I can tell you all this is that I no longer have a 'normal' life to protect. I can announce my strangeness to the entire world. I have no dark secrets to discredit me. This means that I can tell the truth on every level. A very liberating feeling.

I am posting this under my real name which means that there are no longer two Richard Ford's. My employer or anyone I work with can do an internet search and up comes this article.

My guess is that being open will even help me. There are a lot of frustrated women who are missing something from their lives (submission) who will be curious to meet a dominant man. They may have no interest in a relationship but will probably gain a slight fission from talking to me. This can only help at work.

There will also be men who have guilty fantasies and think they are bad people. They will tend to see me as a mentor- again this can only help.

Finally there will be feminists who will go rabid. Suddenly I am protected by political correctness! I have a minority sexual orientation! I am protected from them for the first time!!! I am fireproof.!!!!