If the past is memory and the future fantasy then the fleeting nothing of the present is all there is
I have been dreading the writing of this post, putting it off and vacillating, finding other things to do, or nothing, in order not to engage with what must be written, lest my story be left hanging in the air. I suspect too it will the post my readers will have been fearing for a while and might find difficult to read.
Previously, I have written about various oddities in the case which saw Craig Murray imprisoned for contempt of court. One such quirk is the very concept of ‘jigsaw identification‘. This ‘offence’ occurs when details are published which when combined with other details already in the public domain can lead to the identification of a person or persons who have been granted the privilege of anonymity by a court of law. This is getting quirky already. The individual charged is being prosecuted not for identifying the person afforded the protection of the court. They are being prosecuted for publishing details which when combined in a particular way with other information might make it possible for someone sufficiently interested and determined to identify the person being protected.
The details published don’t have to identify anybody and nobody need actually be identified for an offence to have been committed. There is no…
Former ambassador and human rights activist, Craig Murray, released from Saughton Prison The ludicrously over-the-top jail sentence handed down to human rights activist Craig Murray, for a minor infringement of a presposterous court rule called ‘jigsaw indentification’, together with the hurried embracing of a ban on assembly around our Parliament building, is yet more warning […]
Since we met on the slopes of Ben Dorian at the start of 2017, Martyn has talked with great animation about his mountaineering club’s hut near Achnasheen, how well placed it is for Torridon, West Monar and much more besides. Circumstances have thwarted all our previous plans to stay here for a few nights and to use it as a base, but last week we were able to coordinate other commitments, and Martyn booked two nights during a period of particularly fine weather. Two days after we returned, despite considerable stiffness and pain round my pelvis, I got out of bed and realised that I was able to stand with both feet flat on the ground, with my knees level, my legs straight and my hips perpendicular to my line of motion.
When I reached the summit of Mullach na Coirean last November, I felt that this would be my last Munro. Not only had I taken the tally to 200, my excursions last year into the Mamores and Fannichs meant I had now summited every Munro above 1100 metres, the top 50, which seemed like a good moment to take a step back. Winter was coming and I needed to recover.
"Auferre, trucidare, rapere, falsis nominibus imperium; atque ubi solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant." - They ravage, they slaughter, they plunder, and they falsely name it "empire"; they make a wilderness, and call it "peace."