23.7.04

Now, about the internet

It seems to me, as my father's amanuensis, that the internet is complicated. Just as you get one email address set up, working beautifully, sending Press Releases, it goes kaput.

Why would that be, I wonder? Would it be because someone - mentioning no names - yet - is messing about with my Freedom of Speech? Could it be that they want the pleasure of a 'nice quiet time, and a pleasant little burial?

Surely not! Surely no-one would go so much against the law as to nobble an email site, in a free democracy?

Only problem is, if someone is doing that, it seems they might also be 'putting the mockers' on my perfectly legitimate web site. Now, this web site belongs to me. Bought and paid for. All legit. Yet, mysteriously, it seems to have disappeared from the airwaves. And there is a letter on this site from some anonymous person(machine?), in respect of that. Could it be that my website has got sick and died? I hear that sickness and dying is very popular..especially in the Doncaster area. (As a witness, please take my father. However, do not cremate him. We may need to check a bit more yet.) But I don't even live in the Doncaster area. So surely it couldn't happen to my poor little web site, could it?

(For our international cousins, the Doncaster Area, refers to Doncaster in South Yorkshire, which is in the north of England - well so we claim. It's just the passport that you have to show as you cross over which makes me suspicious. But then, I have a very suspicious mind - especially recently).

The other thing which seems to be happening is that telephone conversations seem to be being picked up. Now I know that that couldn't be happening. It's against the Law, as the rest is.

So, I am sure that I can rest in peace, knowing that no such thing could happen.

Only problem is that too many co-incidences seem to be floating about just recently. Nothing wrong with a nice co-incidence, but they do seem to be breeding. I have to keep looking over my shoulder. Each time I look, there seems to be a coincidental queue

They're such weak and spindly things, coincidentals. Perhaps if I were to step back on one, it might fall over. Wouldn't want that now, would I? Spindly things have just as much right to hang about, getting in the way, as I do. And I certainly have the right to hang about - talking and - getting in the way.

Just in case anyone thinks they can silence me by any means, I have 'certain friends' who will 'certainly' stop that. That's why they're known as 'certain friends'. No point using the phrase otherwise, would there be?

So, now its time for the crunch. Someone is defaming my name. Telling porkies and saying that I am not telling the truth. My father was unlawfully killed.. euthanased.. not even with his consent. Now Euthanansia is illegal in England.. whether or not the subject consents to it. My father thought he was getting over chemotherapy, for his long-standing leukemia. He thought wrong. He was a victim of unlawful euthanasia. That - or so I'm given to understand - is the same as murder. He was not, as far as I could tell, willing to die. He was up to the eyes in Oramorph. To you and me that is morphine by mouth. This had been delivered to him each 4 hours at the rate of 20mg - for four days and nights before the mainlining began. No wonder he was 'a bit distant'. Is it surprising?

It's hardly likely that he would have consented to being stuck with needles under normal circumstances(yes it was in the plural, and at various times in various parts of his body - his thighs, his chest, his abdomen his upper arms..) He didn't much like needles. He seemed to be trying to pull the needles out. But because of the fog induced in his brain by Oramorph he just couldn't work out how to do it. Poor man - and his daughters were not as much help as they could have been, had they been in full possession of the facts.

And now the threat is of a Court Action, because of the truth. What sort of country are we living in?

Would my father have been better off rolling himself into the gutter on a cold winter's night, with trucks roaring past? Answers on a postcard please?

Oh, if you like you can reply be email. Such things as the shock of his death, have hauled me into the 21st Century, where I am pleased to note I can find out a lot of things and contact a lot of people by use of the airwaves. Isn't technology wonderful?

If anyone can offer help to sort this mess out, I would be delighted to hear from them.

Speak to you soon.

Charlotte Peters Rock
Daughter of the Dead


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Protest songs and poems - coming shortly

  • A Full Index
  • Abide With Me (mine)
  • Dead An Buried? Ardly!
  • Director of Public Health - Dr Tony Baxter
  • If - (not by Rudyard Kipling)
  • Jayne Brown - The Cover-Up Woman
  • Practice - Field Road Made
  • Quack Quack Dr Lee
  • St John's Hospice - My Father Was Not Dying
  • Thanksgivin? Thanksgivin? Ah'll be Waitin On
  • The NHS/PCT Thinks You Should Go
  • The Palliative Gillian
  • The Power behind the Patient Dr Brown

Who was Ralph Winstanley?

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