Parashoots

I am sometimes amazed by the life force of certain species of tree. This is a branch I tossed on to the pile of firewood at the end of the winter. It must have fallen off and since then it has lain on the concrete floor for a couple of months. Unconvinced of its suitability for placement in the category of "firewood" it has busied itself sprouting roots and the collection of leaves you see here.
Misconceptions abound in this world do they not, and I am no less guilty than any other of my species.
I was again distracted from posting today as I went for a drink with a friend in the metropolis. At one point we discussed my bloggery. We reached the conclusion that for the most part I fail to meet the level of parable and instead only manage to speak in "parababbles". It seems that many of my messages are trimming the coiffure of the reader as they fly above the head, or more tragically falling short of the mark and squelching into the turff. Hey ho.
There was one tiny point where I seemed to connect in the conversation. It was a very smoky room and the discussion had turned to our mutual dislike of current trends in propaganda, which caused me to draw a parallel between that form of misinformation and the gas called carbon monoxide.
It seems that a lot of what I consider to be "general" knowledge is not quite at that rank, more "private third class" knowledge. So I was forced to elucidate and correct the trajectory of this spear of parababble while it was still in flight.
Perhaps you are familiar with the fact that the substance hemoglobin carries the oxygen in our blood, if not I might politely suggest that you get out too much and need to stay home and read a bit more.
The H molecule is 200 times more attracted to carbon monoxide than oxygen. This affinity is what makes that gas in exhaust fumes etc, so toxic to us. Our bodies soak it up like sponges and ignore the vital oxygen right next to it, eventually the sponge is full and saturated with the muck we breathe no more.
How does that relate to propaganda you ask. Well, as I see it, public relations, commercials, the oratory of our "wonderful" leaders, even some instances of pop music, whatever your prefered tipple as propaganda is a close cousin to this sinister gas. It exploits our many psychological weaknesses and we soak it up like sponges while ignoring the essential stuff that lies right alongside it. I cannot claim that propaganda is poisonous, but I definitely get a sense of being saturated with muck sometimes.
If you have decided to stay in and hit the books, further reading might include that chap Bernays who turned his career as a propagandist in the first world war into a career as the very first PR agent shortly after. In a very long and productive life he managed to sell cigarettes to women as something that would be good for them, among many other negamiracles. He was definitely not a saint, 'amoral' is perhaps the best that can be said of him. As Sigmund Freud's nephew he definitely knew which buttons to push and should have known better than to do it for money. Actually he was also S.Freud's publicist in the United States, so that is why we all know who he is.
We can but try to retain our intrinsic state of mystified curiosity as we get older, and marvel at the things they don't teach us in school.

PS one more point about the picture, I particularly like the way the moss has colonised the cement between the tiles I stuck in the concrete here, I must remember to encourage it with a kind word or two.