Mine Explosion, Plymouth, Richards Inquiry, Uncategorized, Westray


Reader advisory

I doubt anyone is going to read this. I am writing this for myself and not for Facebook. There are glaring omissions in grammar. It jumps about. For now that is how it will be. I have a hard time writing about all this and keep myself emotionally removed. I think it best to write thoughts down now and organize them later.

I really don’t have much interest at moment in advertising my thoughts about Westray. Maybe I can convince myself otherwise but most days it seems there isn’t whole lot of interest in listening to what I have to say. I say this even though I have been part of couple interviews. Three speeches and countless nights at kitchen tables talking about my memories. Most people only listen for few minutes anyways then return to regular programming. They quickly get the 1000 yard stare. Tell me to forget about it and move on. In many ways I have packed it away. 25 years of practice and I have become pretty good at going my own way. I am writing down my thoughts as they come to me so this post I intend will be sort of a scrapbook. It will therefore be a bit disjointed at times. My intention is to someday weave it all together into a book by putting the threads and yarn in a palatable sequence.

I just thought I’d start a diary chronicling the how Westray Mine has involved my life. How I have dealt with it with varying degrees of success and how I think I have finally moved on.

I never chose the Limelight. A long time ago it chose me. I wish sometimes that I could have lived out my life by the river in anonymity. But that wasn’t the choice for me.



Free speech has been pushed through the meat saw of political correctness. It has in many ways come to pass and be accepted that a good speech crush no sensibilities, cross no intersections, bury no indentities. Cries of Facism and Systemic Oppression reign supreme. Truth now takes a back seat to expediency.

This tide has swept through the mainstream media, to the blogosphere, then on to business and academia to wider world as well. This Doctrine is enforced by a new age Maoist Red Guard. The supposedly benign good intentions to some a force for political control on everyone else.

This PC culture has become a binding code of silence on the free flow of information and the dissemination of truth. Instilling the fear of offense makes it easier for the puppetmasters to enact their four score conspiracies on a dumbed down society.

There will always the bold contrarians among us. Those given the task to offend societies sensibilities in the sometimes vain effort to break the chains of thought control. At one time those men and women would be praised. Now they are scorned. Called the Crazy Uncle. Or worse. Often treated with contempt. Laughed at when they tire of the farce and turn away.

I grew in a world of Sesame Street and Star Wars. A world of Big Bird and make believe. Counted myself a contrarian yet at the crucial pivot in my life I relied on others to decide what bits of a story would stitched to a narrative about a tragedy that should never have happened in the first place. It was a grave mistake to make.

Today looking out the window of my house where I live to the valley below rain and wind rules the day.  On days like this it is best to stay inside. In Nova Scotia the drear, wet and wind forces those who are wise to seek shelter and stay warm. It reminds me of a day 25 years ago. A day that started with a phone call early on Saturdsy morning. On that the rain was cold and the wind were pelting.

Looking back now I cannot help but wonder about the, coulda’s, woulda’s and shoulda’s. Wonder too how that timeline would have played out in a world of email, text messages and social media.

The World of Mainstream news has spent much of past year fretting about the scrourge of so-called “fake news”. So pervasive they claim on the internet. They pine for good old days when editors in smoky rooms would decided what news would be told.

Media types will claim that those were the good ole days. A time when news was told that was true. Nothing broadcast without being fact checked.

Those days are long gone. In its place has sprung a wild west of information no more than a mouseclick away. Some good and some bad were the power to offend and be equally offended reigns supreme.

I had planned to let these two weeks pass. It was supposed to be a time of quiet personal reflection. But as happens often in my life a phone call would change my plans. Sitting down to another interview I realized how far I have come.

There are 5 stages of grief. Six for me if you count self loathing.

When I got the latest phone call to talk about Westray I at first just slumped in my chair. Wondering if it is worth the risk to tell the truth. Yet soon I saw it as my opportunity to set the record straight. Right a few wrongs that years have shaded away

On the drive home from New Glasgow without a cell phone connecting me to world and some introspection I charted my path from there to now. Until last year I meandered thru the first four stages. I suppose that was my bargain to help squeeze me thru the days.

On May 29th 1992 I left the first interview thinking I was courageous and done my bit. Thought that it should be left to others to decide how best to do right thing. Put my faith in the smoky backrooms that news would not end up fake. I waited by ended up stuck in one day. A day as it has turned out that is officially denied by those who know far better than I. Permanently cast the victim I willingly accepted the blame.

Once I was fully subsumed in the pathology of the victim.


Looking back at that picture and the words I cannot help but laugh at the effect. That article was sold as venerification of the victim with me the willing participant to its intent. I have been told been one of the most read stories on that magazine’s website. It ended up winning an award in journalism a couple years back. Soon after this followed an interview on CBC and another piece, much along same lines in Chronicle Herald. The self described paper of record for Nova Scotia.

Still I was pulling threads from the same coat.

I am writing this in part to correct some errors in past reporting. When I started this I was drawing from a memory 20 years old. While doing background work for Closure piece I had made a request to RCMP for a copy of my statement. Mostly to confirm and where needed correct my timelime in the days before and after May 9th. Whether on purpose or not at the time the Mounties didn’t oblige and instead ignored me. Hoping I suppose that I would just go away. As a result that story was published with an error. Phillips, Parry and Eagles showed up not on 6th of May but on the 22nd.

I would not know of this error until a year or so later. Still stewing in my malaise I decided to once again try and get my statement. Much ado and run around later I received it as per my request. Well sort of. I have a copy of it somewhere in house but when document finally arrived what I was in possession of was not a full transcript of my statement to RCMP but instead a redacted version of it. Reading it you would think I was investigating the grassy knoll. Yet even thru the ommitance I could parse, confirm and where needed revise my memories of those times.

So the call answered the local paper in New Glasgow turned on the wayback machine. After doing several interviews and speeches I am never sure how was going to go.


I am happy I did it. Maybe the door can be finally closed.

I keep saying I will write a book. Maybe some day I will. There are still bits that could be told but for now I am good.



Something I wrote on Saturday in response to fellow who wrote the Evening News Article

He thought I should write that book….

Might be good idea to write down for history. I have made some attempts at writing it but seem to freeze up when I put pen to paper. A friend or two have offered to be a ghost writer. Maybe that is way to go.

I have more or less packed it away. Talking about doesnt churn up deep held feelings like it once did. It does help to talk. Doing has helped remove me emotionally so that I can see it dispassionately from the third person. Still driving this morning from town that day in May has become a mark on my soul. A hinge and pivot in my life squirrled down a memory hole. Forgotten to history.

People say forget about it and move on. That is a tall glass of milk to drink when you give up a career for something everyone denies happening.

Yet that is what I have done. Most days. Once the 9th passes and spring turns to flowers the memories will receed. Maybe time does heal. I didnt always believe that but I am getting older and need to enjoy what life I have in front of me.

I think I owe it to the 26 to do just that.


I would like to send something to you that I have written to proof read. It might be end of week before it is done. I decided to be in news again. Hopefully for the last time. If I get it done as I’m kinda stuck right now. I still haven’t made up my mind on posting my thoughts to the wider world but if you are up for it I’ll forward to Admin then he can forward on to you.

Like you my goal at this stage is to leave a bit of a record. It is the only noble cause that is left as far as I am concerned. And I’m with you about what is next and more importantly what is important. It might be a bit selfish but best use of my time now is helping those around me, as you say, who are nearest, to weather the storm.

If that makes me clueless as well, then I am gladly guilty as charged.

These days I gaze up at the stars rather look down at the earth. But like you this doesn’t necessarily mean that my head is in clouds. There are many who would say that but having done the calculus the best course of action now is to put the shutters on house for coming storm. There is a certain grim reality to what is coming but I am finding by solving for x I can enjoy now and still maybe have a laugh or two…


A Bug’s Thoughts


I was having conversation online with a holocaust denier. Yep them folks are real. Likely nice man burdened by a misplaced focus in his life.

He wrote:

Why can’t the Holocaust industry admit the truth – Zyklon B was a delousing agent, no one was gassed, and 6 million did not die. Denying those truths are a symptom of the insanity of the Jewish Lobby.

I replied with:

  1. Hoefletelegram.jpg


This is a telegram. Written in German sent from Hoefle in Poland to Eichmann in Berlin. Google it. I had been asked if I had citation for concentration of HCL in air required to kill a human. It was easy to find and makes sense to me that concentrations and exposure times required to kill lice are so much higher than for humans. It has been said that once the Nuclear holocaust occurs the only things left living will be simple lifeforms like these.


Yep 600 million years or so from sometime in near future by framework of geological time the evolved descendents of the worms and bugs left alive will once again be pondering the great mysteries of faith.

Deniers with eight legs and antennae will be back on the interwebs fighting furiously on their bums with thumbs with the historians. All the while the worms deep underground having discovered the nuclear genie will once again be plotting the end of the world.

The only thing that will stop this insanity is the depletion of hydrogen fuel supply in the sun. Then transformed the star will expand into Red Giant. Dealing once and for all an end to our insanity.






Have a Drink Mika

I haven’t read 1984 in years but still have it somewhere in my house. Should read it again. My high school English teacher would be proud even if my allusion was unintenional. So synchronicity strikes again.

I wrote my attempt at fake news on Friday. Then I get up next day and see your article. I had spent the whole week watching daily press briefings. Each day getting more pissed off about lack of interest by the press in Farkas affair. Wanted to post a rant but instead went with the Bears. Then you beat me to the punch with a much better review.

I have been doing more reading about Dr. Farkas today. Now I am really pissed. No wonder Gowdy was so insistent on asking about masking when questioning Comey. I didn’t realize this before today but that woman gave that interview on MSNBC on March 2nd. The Trump tweet on March 4th makes much more sense now taken in that context. How is that it took almost the whole month of March for this to become a story.

These clowns in MSM keep harping about “fake news” yet this occurs right in front of them. Then they hope and pray for it to just go away. Disappear down memory hole.

A sad indictment of legacy media. It wasn’t that long ago that Mika proclaimed herself the arbiter of truth in News. An Epic fail on her part if you ask me. If they had any credibility it is now gone.

Why hasn’t MSM put 2 + 2 together and asked if the reason for Trumps tweets was because of what Farkas said.


Poor Mika had a chance to put ham on the sandwich but chose not to while looking the other way. Her claims to holding keys to our news are ringing ever more shallow with each passing day. Time to get serious about something Mika! Ya ain’t getting any younger so being a pole dancer is likely out of the question.

Why not try drinking instead.


Feet of Clay

All of my heroes have feet of clay. – Hardscrabble Farmer

Another great quote from the Farmer.

Interesting use of metaphor and juxtapostion with the Battle of Salamis. There the outnumbered Greeks won in part because the the Persian navy rowed into the Straits of Salamis. A place where numbers mattered less then depth. There is an appearance that the Media, some elements of Deep State and the Soros funded antifa protesters riling the streets have an overwhelming advantage.

Not so I think.

I am liking all these articles being broke up into parts. It gives me time to rue over the premise. I still am not sure if I want to write about books I am reading sent by YoJimbo. I should but I think it better that I did even if it means getting dogpiled.

TBP is a compelling place to test ideas and what makes our position stronger. Something our opposition in contrast has stopped doing. Contenting themselves that arguments are done they have devolved to a cult where adherence to dogma matters much less than strategy. Their supposed strength is, because of this, a mile wide and an inch deep. While I should despair I see hope.


Much like ancient Persia the swamp is built on an Empire of Sand. Trump and his tweets might yet be the tide that washes it away. Flaws and all, he might just end up being Themistocles.



Waiting for the Melt

So, what is it with female assistant professors, and womyn researchers…

The other day while I was talking over fence to my neighbour Jacques Shelaque and along with conversation about Polar Bears we got to talking about this as well. We both concluded that reason they have this strong urge to compile flawed lists is that they view this world thru a problematic lens of a Failing Liberal Dogma. Which is with much irony paid for in large part by their penchant for pretentious eyewear.


Orwell’s world of 1984 has indeed come to pass when a woman of no consequence thinks she is doing God’s work carrying water for the Deep State. There has to be an amazing level of persuasion required for a woman of her ilk to be a foot soldier in this world of Sorrows.

What we are witnessing right now is a tear in space/time continuum. The Deep State in their hubris never expected to be defeated in 2016 and so made no plans. This whole battle over “fake news” is just a distraction so that the goys look away while the Deep State and their lackeys in media scramble to find a pair of pants to cover their asses from the tide that left them exposed and their balls on Trump’s chopping block.

One need look no further then the Daily Sean Spicer Briefing. It is for me the new reality TV. There the world has been turned on its ear with not a Woodward or Bernstein anywhere. All the President’s Men are now forced to be the ones telling the truth. A Day Care for Journalists who don’t care.

Here we have Dr. Evelyn Farkas


This woman spills the beans and admits live on MSNBC’s Morning Joe on Monday this week that she was a part of Cabal spying on Trump. Yet all week at those briefings by Spicer there was nary a question raised from 4th estate. The only person bringing Dr. Farkas by name was Mr. Spicer himself. A pathetic display from the media that Ms. Zimdars so fervently defends.

Yet even with all this Jacques and I do not despair. It is early innings and we just need wait for the snow to melt on ground . Then the bears once hidden by the land will exposed by the backdrop of green for all to see.



Looking for Bears

There has been much talk for many years about Global warming. Its unseen and seen effects on society.  However the talk this week at the water coolers at workplaces in this part of Canada isn’t how warm it has been. No sir! Instead many cannot help but remark on how cold March has been in Nova Scotia. And folks it has been cold. Some even say one the coldest on record.

This province cannot even keep schools open because the weather has been so bad. Parents everywhere spend many restless nights wondering if little Johnnie will be able to get on the yellow bus the next morning to learn how to read, write and articulate.


Me, I don’t have that problem. The kids are grown. The problem these days does seem much worse. When I was young school didn’t get cancelled unless something truly biblical was taking place. Consequently back then I prayed to the Lord above to grant me my wish and keep me from school. In those days he didn’t listen so well because most days I went.

It seems the demise of Polar Bears by the World Wildlife Fund has been a bit premature with their pronouncements of the impending extinction event about to befall Polar Bears. I contemplated a misspent youth drinking Coke when I could have been drinking Canada Dry.

See last night while surfing the net I found article on CBC news.

I now read that once again the Bears are roaming our shores. Talking to my neighbour Jacques Shelaque and he tells me that the bears, though cuddly looking, have taken to eating cats and dogs since the seals left for Newfoundland.

I took this picture about a month ago at wharf in Arisaig when seals had come ashore to have their pups.

So I decided to fearlessly venture once again to Arisaig to see for myself. I even saw one or two so I grabbed my wife’s cellphone to get it on tape. Somewhat unfortunate it is a Blackberry Curve so camera quality isn’t great. Looking at video though if one looks far enough you can see them on the ice.


Trumps Predilections

There is an epic level of hubris on display right now. I have lost count how many times Trump’s enemies have wrote the obit. So far they have been premature. Likely because they cannot ascribe a method to his reductive predilections in 140 characters or less. Trump has mastered the medium and has become an unstoppable message

Yes leaks and fake news designed to sabotage the credibility of Trump and his administration will continue. But so will the tweets. I don’t see him giving up. He has no choice but continue march forward anyways. Retreat and he gets sent to gas chambers. This is essentially a cage match and the door is closed. He needs to knock them all to floor then stomp them when they are down.


If there is going to be a turning then it is time to crack a few eggs.
Go get ’em Donald!

Start with Hillary!