Forbidden Zones


There’s another male lion in the White House. Male to male relationships are relatively simple. Go down the pub and grunt at each other for a while and decide we are in the same gang. Male bonding. And solved the mystery of the man in the mirror in my dream I think. It’s the relationship with the distaff side which would seem to be more complex.

And in an ununderstandable way at least to me, the Doppler Shift and Twin Paradox and Theory of Relativity seem to be connected.



And the Path and Pathways. Another journey today.

Upside Down 4G.



Through the graveyard.



I passed a mass of Forbidden Zone signs today which I think is reflected with Chernobyl and Fukushima and Area 51 and other similar places on the globe and probably off planet as well. Don’t panic. I’m not going gay. If life were that simple.

And let’s put it this way. God is less caught up with PC than humanity. You can’t say that !



Log Lady :

“Now the circle is almost complete. Watch and listen to the dream of time and space. It all comes out now, flowing like a river. That which is and is not.

“It has been a pleasure speaking with you.”



And onwards .




Down a slippery slope and at the bottom of a slippery slope is Sandy and Blackberry Way.




Roy Wood.





Everyone says Hi.

Hey Ewe. These are the jokes folks.

Meet Rameses.







And then I passed another set of logs and then onto Holborns Established 1974. Confusing He Says.



‘Tis butter dream’.


7 thoughts on “Forbidden Zones

    1. I changed the video in article from YT to WP.

      As I walked through the field they pottered over and then had a chew of the grass and went for a lie down.

      Aka Ozymandias.

      Land Of Under.

      And Doppelganger central. Either Steve Irwin or Shane Warne passed by yesterday. And Lenny Henry again.



      I met a traveller from an antique land,
      Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
      Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,
      Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
      And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
      Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
      Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
      The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
      And on the pedestal, these words appear:
      My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
      Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
      Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
      Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
      The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

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