Phillip Holt's World of NLP, Hypnosis, PhotoReading, Mind Maps & Memory

The Blackburn Buccaneer and the Avro Vulcan at RAF Hendon and Fleet Air Arm Museums

Phillip Holt — Wed, 17 Mar 2010 10:32:00 GMT

Reading the history of two of the British RAF iconic aircraft, the Blackburn Buccaneer and the Avro Vulcan in Rolland Whites books, Phoenix Squadron and Vulcan 607, plus my past memories and travels coming across the aircraft, I needed more information, to get the feel of the aircraft.

One of the great traditions and part of the culture of the British people, is a sense of the past, the history of the nation.

Rightly or wrongly, we hoard, we hold onto items which are from the past, we rebuild castles, ancient monuments, we store them in galleries, in museums, we preserve history for generations to come. Sometimes these items are from British history, sometimes these artifacts are from other cultures, there for all to see and wonder at.

It was written, a nation is not a nation without its' history.

History builds the culture of nations, the population has something to build the future upon, to be proud of.

Britain is rich in museums and collections of artifacts of history, and these collections include the armed forces.

I needed to see firsthand a Buccaneer aircraft, to try and understand how a small aircraft manufacturer, the Blackburn Aircraft and Car Company, starting in 1914, could go on and build, design and build, which in its' time, such a world beating, innovative aircraft.

I needed to witness the size and shape of the Vulcan, that was built not so many years after the end of the Second World War, would only be used in anger after thirty years in service, winning many competitions against the mighty American USAF jets, again with its' iconic shape and design features which where world beaters.

My first visit had to be to the RAF Museum Hendon, in North London. The free to enter museum is housed in a number of large buildings, The Battle of Britain Hall, Historic Hangar, the Grahame-White Factory, the Milestones of Flight Hall, and the Bomber Hall.

My aim on this visit was to see the RAF Buccaneer S2B which the RAF flew as late as the Gulf War.

RAF Buccaneer S2B on display at RAF Hendon, London
I needed to get a feel of the plane, to understand the shape the size of this world beating plane.

RAF Buccaneer S2B on display at RAF Hendon, London

Parked in a restricted area of the museum due to renovations, I was kindly given permission to enter the great aircraft's space, to view the plane at close quarters, the folding wings and nose cone, which reduced the area required to park it, especially on an aircraft carrier.

The Buccaneer was designed for low level fast flying to get below enemy radar, and its short wings gave superb handling characteristics, but at low speeds needed for landings on carrier decks, the designers came up with an innovative idea of bleeding compressed gases from the engines, vented through the wings to give extra life, and the tailplane was designed with variable incidence for fast or low-speed flight. The then conventional bomb doors of an aircraft were just that, doors that opened outwards, but the Buccaneer's doors rotated within the fuselage, and with the Coca Cola fuselage shape reduced drag. The two seater jet was designed in tandem, with the navigator behind the pilot, and in the S2B model the aircraft were fitted with powerful Rolls-Royce Spey turbofan engines.

A RAF Buccaneer S2B RAF Hendon Museum
I then had a feeling to view a Naval Buccaneer, after all, the book Phoenix Squadron was about the British Navy Fleet Air Arm flying from the carrier Arc Royal to reinforce Britain's right in Belize. The Royal Navy's Fleet Air Arm Museum houses two examples of the Buccaneer, the original S1B with the low powered de Havilland Gyron Junior turbojet engines and the updated S2B which the RAF flew.

Folding nose cone on a Buccaneer
Royal Naval Fleet Air Arm Museum
RNAS Yeovilton
I knew that at RAF Hendon they had a Vulcan, but I could not see it. Upon asking an attendant, he pointed over my right shoulder, and it was there, and as I looked it was. Perhaps it was a case of George Millers' 7 +/- 2 or the Monkey Video, but there it was in a corner, a massive aircraft, too big to get into my camera lens.

Avro Vulcan, RAF Hendon Museum.
The Avro Vulcan, later with the powerful Olympus engines which were destine to power Concorde, where introduced in 1953 as part of the RAF's "V" force, being the Victor, Vulcan and Valiant, built to counter the perceived threat posed by the Soviet Block and to deliver nuclear bombs.

The main characteristic of the Vulcan was the Delta Wing.

Avro Vulcan with delta wing
Conceived in 1947, the virtually hand made Vulcan, entered RAF service in 1956, and used as a deterrent against nuclear attack, and was not used for delivering real conventional bombs until it was due to retire in 1982 when it was used to drop 21 bombs on Port Staley Airport runway in the Falklands war, as told in the book Vulcan 607.

Seeing this wonderful aircraft in RAF Hendon, being able to stand under the massive bomb bay, brought home to me the flying skills needed to get from the UK to the Falklands and back again in the Falklands war.

We are lucky in Britain to have such museums, places of interest to visit, to learn, to see, to research, to gain knowledge.

Let us hope that we all learn from all our past history.

Vulcam 607, Rowland White

Phillip Holt — Mon, 15 Mar 2010 14:14:00 GMT

Following reading Rowland White's book thePhoenix Squadron and at the suggestion of my cousin Glynis, plus my interest in the subject, I obtained a copy of Rowland White's previous book, Vulcan 607.

This book gripped me from the outset, telling the story of when in 1982, Argentina invaded the Falkland Islands in the South Atlantic, which Britain held sovereignty since 1833, having taken over from the Spanish, who were sold the islands by the French for £250,000 in 1767, who had claimed the islands for themselves in 1764. Argentina regarded the Falklands as theirs, calling them Las Islas Malvinas.

The military junta of Argentina saw the return of the Falklands as strengthening moral of their country and planned to take Las Islas Malvinas with a quick invasion, especially as Britain had only a small garrison to guard the islands, and anyway, Britain was relinquishing sovereignty to other countries within their Empire.

An Argentinian entrepreneur and scrap metal merchant jumped the gun on the junta before they could finalise plans, by landing on the Falklands for its' rich pickings of old whaling ships and equipment. The result was a hasty invasion by Argentina, and a British reply of "no the Falklands are ours".

It was decided by the British Government that the sovereignty of the Falklands would stay in British hands, and despite many days of the USA trying diplomatic means to solve the problem, war broke out.

Britain assembled a task force of naval ships, and the army to send down to the southern hemisphere, and the RAF were tasked with a special mission to show Britain meant business, to show that Argentina were vulnerable to strikes by British Forces, and to have the Argentina junta having to redeploy their forces to protect their mainland.

The result was the longest ever bombing flight ever undertaken at that date.

This well researched book tells the story of how the RAF undertook the task, the training, the modification of old soon to be scrapped Vulcan planes, the operation itself.

Avro Vulcan bomber of the RAF
I was gripped by the story, better than a action fiction book, with true heroism throughout, as the story unfolded. I practically read the book in one sitting.

Yes it was my history, and the whole thing made a lot of sense to me, as I recalled driving passed RAF Waddington only a few years before the conflict began, seeing the Vulcan's sitting waiting to get airborne, and I remember the pride in my heart on arriving in Saudi Arabia for work in early 1983, only months after the conflict had ended, and seeing the Argentinian flag flying above their embassy, proud to be British.

Rowland White writes that RAF Wing Commander Simon Baldwin, the flight commander of RAF Waddington, had stated "only 30 percent of what was being reported was accurate", when reviewing the TV, newspapers and media after the event, I think that the book makes it near 100 percent.

Yes the book captures the story and history of the RAF's involvement, and good it was, but as I read I began once again to think that the book is from the British point of view, and yes I am British and nationalistic as you are to your country, and I wonder what are the views of the Argentinians, their story. Perhaps the book only gives 50 percent of the story, the British side.

Oh well, that leads me further on, more research and reading to find out.

My interest in the RAF and flying

Phillip Holt — Mon, 15 Mar 2010 11:39:00 GMT

It was in the late 1970's that I worked for NCR, a computer manufacturer, and I was tasked to design, write the software to customers requirements, install, train the customers staff, and maintain the installation thereafter.

The area I covered from my base offices in the UK, Nottingham and Leicester, covered a vast area, from North and South Lincolnshire, Nottinghamshire, down to the south of Liecestershire, from caravan manufacturers to a door-to-door cosmetic selling organization, and often I found myself driving hundreds of miles to visit my customers.

Often my journeys, especially through Lincolnshire, would take me past RAF airfields, and since a small boy I had a fascination of aircraft, mighty birds in the sky.

At RAF Coningsby, the B1192 road I took to my customer in Wragby, passed the end of the runway, and there was a convenient lay-bye, where I could stop and watch the fast jets, Phantoms, take off, looking directly up into their jet exhaust and afterburners. (click to see map).

At RAF Waddington on the A607 road from Grantham to the City of Lincoln, the massive Vulcan bombers of the RAF "V" Force, stood ready to launch at minutes notice on their dispersal pads near the end of the runways, ready to retaliate against Soviet Block targets with nuclear weapons should NATO be attacked. (click to see map).

At RAF Wyton on the A141 near Warboys, English Electric Cambera's, RAF reconnaissance planes flew low over the road as they came into land. (click to see map).

At RAF Wittering, the V/STOL Harrier Jump Jets, would fly over the A1 road. (click to see map).

At RAF Alcanbury, further south on the A1 road, USAF U-2 spy planes, with their albatross length wings glided in to a now closed airfield. (click to see map).

So many more airfields I would pass, fascinated by the power and beauty of the aircraft.

My love for knowledge of aircraft has stayed with me all these years, and reading, researching books, visiting museums on aircraft, gives me great joy and happiness, although my interest does not or has not become an obsession. As I discover more in my research, I need to fill in the blanks, find out more about information presented to me.

It is now I appreciate the art of reading, PhotoReading, allowing me to absorb so much information quickly, and when reading normally after PhotoReading the book to get specific information, getting so much more enjoyment.

Reading fictional books like Biggles, a pilot flying mid world war planes, solving problems and having boyhood fascination capturing adventures.

Living in Kingston upon Thames, the home of the Hawker Hurricane, led me to read about the history of the iconic aircraft, and visiting museums, the Imperial War museum at RAF Duxford, the old airfield and race track at Brooklands, the Royal Naval Fleet Air Arm Museum, RAF Uxbridge and the RAF Museum in Hendon.

As I read, one piece of information has led me to another, to another, to the book Phoenix Squadron by Rowland White, which I wrote about in my blog a few days ago. Then my cousin Glynis, read my blog and suggested that I read Rowland White's other book, Vulcan 607, as her husband Dave had been involved with them, and my mind went back to those early days as I passed RAF Waddington, with those big jets, the Vulcan's, just waiting to reach for the skies.

I had to buy the book.

It is a small world

Phillip Holt — Sun, 14 Mar 2010 15:46:00 GMT

Whilst having my birthday breakfast with my good friend Jill Lawday begin_of_the_skype_highlighting end_of_the_skype_highlighting in Kingston's Frank B's Diner, we were served by a very happy and pleasant person, Kapila Amarasinghe.

Phillip Holt and Kapila Amarasinghe in Frank B's Diner
He had time to make sure that he took our order correctly, to make us feel at home and at ease.

Obviously not from the UK, I asked where did he originate from, and he said Colombo in Sri Lanka.

I have spent many days giving training in Sri Lanka on many visits, especially staying in the very old Swimming Club of Colombo, and in the next few weeks I hope to return.

I told Kapila my association with Sri Lanka, and what a wonderful place I had found it, but not what I actually did there.

The time came when Jill and I had finished our breakfast, and it was time to leave, so I went to the till.

Kapila, again being very friendly wished me well, then mentioned that he had been involved with the Sri Lanka tennis team, along with Maxwell de Silva.

"What? Where did that name come from? Why did he name Maxwell de Silva?". Questions raced through my mind.

I was in shock.

Maxwell de Silva and I have worked together for a number of years, being co-directors of a company we formed, NLPNOW-Lanka, to provide training in Sri Lanka.

I never mentioned what I did in Sri Lanka, or my associations with people there, and yet Kapila and I had a common friend.

Here I am in the UK, and Maxwell in Sri Lanka, and suddenly, there is a direct link between us.

It's a small world, you will never know who you may bump into on your travels.

A Big Thank You

Phillip Holt — Sat, 13 Mar 2010 13:36:00 GMT

I hope I have said thank you for wishing me a Happy Birthday, but is good just to say "Thank You" for no reason, just perhaps for being a friend, just perhaps just being there, just perhaps just knowing you.

Today I have to say thank you to my very good friend Jill Lawday, a fellow trainer whom I have known for many years.

She had been in town, my town of Kingston upon Thames, and we spent some time together, talking about old times, the future, having a meal, me being a tour guide, and it was Jill's idea that we should have breakfast at Frank B's Diner in the Bentall Center of Kingston as a birthday treat.

Birthday Breakfast in Frank B's Diner" alt="" src="http://images.quickblogcast.com/71606-62901/JillLawdayandPhillipHoltBirthdayBreakfast.jpg?a=39">
Jill Lawday and Phillip Holt
Birthday Breakfast in Frank B's Diner
Thank you Jill, it was great, even though I needed a nap when I got home.

Oh Jill, watch the video I took off Kingston upon Thames, by clicking here Relax with views from the Royal Borough of Kingston upon Thames.

Enjoy.

see It is a small world

The Psychic Tourist by William Little

Phillip Holt — Fri, 12 Mar 2010 07:51:00 GMT

So did all the telephone calls I have had in the last two days come from telepathy? Did I send out a plea by telepathy to buy some services, or did the callers have some other means of obtaining my telephone number?

Having read many books on the psychic world, been on many courses to do with the human mind and human psychology, watched many people at work, studied many more, had many strange experiences, demonstrated certain powers, I have an open mind if there are psychic happenings.

For my telephone calls I received, the call centers must have a good search engine which looks at any entries made on the internet referencing certain criteria which they then can exploit, so no telepathy this time.

But are there psychic happenings?

I sometimes with the participants on my courses demonstrate mind reading, and not me doing the mind reading but the participants.

I have been with special people who are accredited with having certain psychic powers like Joe McMoneagle of the Us Army Stargate Project, and Remote Viewing, and mentioned in the book The Men Who Stare at Goats. I have been with and learned from Seka Nikolic a bio-energy healer, and many more.

Then, why on my day out in Exeter I was drawn into a bookstore just to get something to read on my long train journey home, out of all the books in there I picked up The Psychic Tourist by William Little.

In this well researched and written book, William Little sets out to discover the truth of whether there is proof of the existence of psychic powers, fortune tellers, mind-reading, after he gave his sister a birth chart by an astrologer, which changed the beliefs of his sister and niece thinking they would die in water.

His journey takes him into a dark haunted wood with a witches' coven, having a fresh understanding of the thoughts of Richard Dawkins, talking to psychics such as Sylvia Brown and Sally Morgan, the psychological showman, hypnotist and magician Darren Brown, and the psychic spy Joe McMoneagle. He visits Dean Radin at the Noetic Institute of Sciences in Petaluma, California, looking into quantum physics and entanglement theory, plus many more well know psychics, all in his quest to discover if psychic powers can be proven.

He comes to a conclusion which he tries to sell to his sister. But is psychic behaviour and belief in every human being?

Perhaps we should be as he found, after interviewing Richard Dawkins, open minded, even in the light of evidence to the contrary.

A reply to my unwanted telephone calls

Phillip Holt — Thu, 11 Mar 2010 10:25:00 GMT

Yes, you are correct asking in your comment "why is the TPS not working?", the possible reason is that the "cold" unwanted calls are being made from outside the UK.

Yes they are monitoring the internet, I know of organisations that other companies employ to search all the media, TV, radio, newspapers, courts, the internet, just to get information. It could be just to know what people are saying about their product or company, or like the companies who have been telephoning me, to make sales.

I have heard that there are people waiting in hospital emergency centers, waiting for accident victims to be carried in, and they sign them up saying that they will take the other party involved in the accident to court to get compensation on a "no win, no fee" basis.

Some of these companies even listen in on radio traffic of the emergency services, just to get to the victims before any one else so the victim can sue for damages.

TAKE IT EASY? ME?

I see it as a game, to have fun with the callers.

In my article Did I upset you? Unwanted telephone calls. I mention the fact that I said I wanted a conservatory, but when I said I was on the 2nd floor, the caller got upset for wasting their time.

Another example was when I lived on a boat, a rather large boat, Mr Toots, I had a call from a replacement window company who had been continually calling for days offering to replace the windows, so I went along with their conversation,

"Yes it would be good to reduce the heat loss and save money,"

"Yes it would be good lessen the noise, especially as the boat was moored under the flight path of Heathrow Airport."

The call center just did not ask the right questions, they presupposed that I lived in a house, not a boat with small round portholes made of brass.

When the salesman turned up, he was very abusive to me for wasting his time, even giving threats to sue me in court for his lost time and income, until I said I would counter to sue his company for wasting my time.

Mr Toots, a boat I live on in Brentford, London for 6 years
As a small boy, I remember my father answering the door to a "door-to-door" salesman selling cleaning products and vacuum cleaners.

My father let the salesman make his sales pitch on all the virtues of his company's' vacuum cleaner, and when the salesman went for the kill, to close the sale, my father said he already had a better one, that offered even more things, and was cheaper to run.

The salesman was taken aback, and started arguing with my father, saying that was impossible as his product was first on the market, and no other company had anything else like it, and he demanded to see the cleaner.

At this point my father called my mother to the front door, and said

"Here is my cleaner, and it cleans, irons, cooks and keeps me warm at night."

Like father, like son.

I am sorry to the young Indian girl

Phillip Holt — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 16:48:00 GMT

Over the last couple of days, I have been interrupted by "cold" sales calls on my telephone.

I object to having to receive them, especially in the evening when I just want to relax. As someone said to me, if they wanted a new mobile phone, a loan, replacement window, they would go out and buy them.

I have now have my answering machine switched off, as I could be away from home giving training for many days at a time, only to return with my answer machine full of sales calls or "silent" calls.

I have also stopped diverting calls to my mobile phone, why should I pay for unwanted calls? Why should I pay for calls to be diverted overseas when I am abroad with my mobile phone? Why should I be woken-up in the early hours with a diverted "cold" sales call I do not want when I am in a country 8 hours in front or behind UK time?

It is midday, and the telephone rings, and I look at the number received, "000000", meaning it is a withheld caller or overseas caller number.

I am ready.

"Can I help you?", I answer the phone.

"Can I speak to Mr Phillip?", in a lovely young female Indian accent.

My state changes straight away, but I control myself, and why don't the management of these Indian call centers teach their operators, that in the UK we do not use "Mr" in front of our given or Christian name, we only use "Mr" (or Mrs) in front of our family or surname.

Time for games for Phillip.

"Yes".

"This is -------- company based in London. Do you get unwanted telephone calls?"

I will not give the company the satisfaction of giving their name, but obviously the Indian accent, the conversational delay and the clicking on the line means the call does not originate in the UK.

"Yes".

"When do you get these calls?", she thinks she has a potential foolish customer ready to sell too.

"Oh, I usually get them at about midday." I gladly offer a reply.

"Does your services provider not stop them for you?"

"Obviously not."

"Well our company can work on your behalf and stop all unwanted calls........", she replies, as I sense she feels she has a potential sale on her hands.

"How much does this service cost and how long do I have to sign a contract for?".

"Only £1 a month and for a long 5 years.".

A "long five years", surely she needs to think about what she is saying.

I fire back, "So I pay you a large sum of money, so that you just go on the web site of the Telephone Preference Service, which is a FREE service, and you take two seconds to enter my telephone number in the little box, to stop calls like you are making now. Is that correct? Oh, what is the weather like in India today?".

Silence.

I apologise to her, for tricking her into thinking I was a dumb potential customer, because the above is an abbreviated version of the conversation, and after all, it was not a waste of my time, I had had a conversation with someone, and I had fun, leading her down a road, carefully listening to the well rehearsed sales patter.

Oh no, another unwanted call, this time from EON, an electricity supplier, again the caller with an Indian accent, promising to cut my household electricity bill.

More fun for me to have.

I love my job.

see     Did I upset you? Unwanted telephone calls.
            Weatherseal Windows, do you think I am stupid?
            Timeshare Advisory Service a Scam ,
            I don't believe it,
            Is it a coincidence that I get more telephone calls.

Is it a coincidence that I get more telephone calls

Phillip Holt — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 12:15:00 GMT

In my previous articles of my blog, Timeshare Advisory Service a Scam and I don't believe it, I write about how I instinctively know when I am getting a "cold", unwanted call, which makes me mad.

I do not want cold calls.

After my first posting, Timeshare Advisory Service a Scam, I got a telephone call from the Indian sub continent, purporting to be an organisation, TPS, offering to register my telephone number to stop nuisance calls for a fee I expect of over £250, when TPS gives the service for free.

Spooky.

How did that person ring at that precise time to offer their service? I must have bee sending a message out through telepathy and picked up by the hard working call center worker.

Not long after, I had another telephone call from another nice sounding lady, with loads of noise in the background of people talking on telephones. Obviously another call center.

She politely led me through a spiel of how her company could help me resolve any problems with my timeshare. Firing well rehearsed questions and statements, "Was I satisfied with the high increases in management fees?", "have I seen their advertisements on Chanel 5 (UK TV)?", all to no avail, as I said I was extremely happy with my timeshare holiday week.

I asked for her company's' web address, just in case I needed help in the future, which was www.itra.net. I later find out that this is International Timeshare Refund Action, a "no win, no fee" service.

We ended the call in a pleasant way.

Spooky.

Why did at that moment I get a telephone call offering me a service, when clearly I had been thinking about the potential problems arising from owning timeshares?

Again, my telepathic powers must be working overtime.

This has to be more than coincidence.

I am reading a book at the moment The Psychic Tourist by William Little, is it a coincidence that I am getting more telephone calls on a subject I am working on, unwanted telephone calls, or is it some psychic force?

I must finish the book to find out.

Oh, just before I have finished this article, I have another call from a lovely Indian girl, offering me a five year contract to stop nuisance calls.

I don't believe it

Phillip Holt — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 15:41:00 GMT

It has only been an hour since posting Timeshare Advisory Service a Scam , and the telephone rings.

Yes you have guessed it, "Mr Phillip?", in and Indian accent, and a small time delay.

It is hard for me to understand him as I curtly reply "What do you want?".

He purports (indicates) to be from the Telephone Preference Service, (UK 0800398893) and he started telling me how "cold calls", wanted calls, would be stopped.

But I was already registered with the free Telephone Preference Service, and I told him that, but he was having non of me butting in, interrupting him, saying that by registering with him I would be protected for five years.

"I am already registered with you." I said, thinking I was speaking to the TPS.

He would not listen, until I asked him what are the fees.

"Just a £1 a week." was his reply, "and then you will stop getting calls like this."

"Get lost." was my reply as I cut the call.

I just don't believe it.

The Telephone Preference Service is a free service, so if anyone in the UK wants to use it go the their web site http://www.tpsonline.org.uk/tps/ and register for free. Do not fall for the webs sites when using the search engines that look as if they are the TPS and charge a fee. All they are doing is taking your money, then adding your name and telephone number to the free Telephone Preference Service.

As someone commented, I am "p----d off", or not very happy.

Timeshare Advisory Service a Scam

Phillip Holt — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 10:40:00 GMT

I am continually getting telephone calls from people wanting to sell me a new mobile phone, sort out my debt problems which I do not have, and buy my timeshare holiday week, even though I have used a service in the UK called The National Do-Not-Call List, or the Call Prevention Registry, which should prevent such calls or organisations making unwanted "cold" telephone calls to me.

As soon as I hear a foreign accent, sorry to say from the Indian sub continent, and they ask for "Mrs Mee Holt", the hairs on my neck go up, I know that they will be trying to sell me something I do not want. She never uses the shortened name "Mee" from her name Mee Len.

"No you can't. She does not live here any more.", will only make them say, "Is that Mr Holt?"

Just thinking about it makes me mad, but then I expect they can get around UK laws by calling from outside the UK.

I apologise to those working in the call centers making these calls, I know I am rude to you and I cut you off. Sorry, I know you have a job to do and want to make money, earn a living, but I do not want to speak to you.

I also sometimes get telephone calls from people who want to buy the timeshare week. I wrote about one company Alpha Group Resales who sounded very convincing in their sales patter or talk. (see article).

They give a reference of the Timeshare Advisory Service and a telephone number. I wonder if when the number is called, it ends up in the same office as Alpha Group Resales or whatever name they are operating under now.

I still notice after a number of years, people are landing on my web site article after searching on Timeshare Advisory Service in a search engine, so the scam still seems to being used.

To operate this scam, taking a large sum of money at the outset by credit card, to register the sellers name and cover administration costs, the seller enters into a contract which contains a clause saying that if the seller ends or cancels the contract, the initial sum will be forfeited. Obviously, there are no buyers for the timeshare, and thus the buyer cancels the contract or arrangement with the company operating the scam, and looses their initial deposit.

I cannot understand how these people can sleep at night, knowing that the next day they are going to sell something to people that they do not want it, advertising space, search engine placement, listings in telephone books and directories, a name of a potential buyer who does not exist.

The credit card companies know that these scams exist, they must get hundreds of calls of complaints, yet they continue to let these companies trade and take money off unsuspecting people.

The banks must know about the scam emails, which promise untold wealth from a person who died in a plane crash, or from a military person who found a box of millions of dollars in the middle of the desert whilst fighting in Iraq and wants to share it. Why don't they stop the unsuspecting public transferring money abroad to these people?

Worldwide government agencies know about these scams, why don't they do something to stop it?

Oh Poo Poo, am I sounding like a grumpy old man?

Life is so hard and unfair.

Now read I don't believe it

Beauty is only Skin Deep

Phillip Holt — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 16:37:00 GMT

Was today a waste of time?

For some time now, I had been asked to attend an exhibition at London's ExCel Exhibition and Conference Center, and I could not make my mind up if the subject matter was appropriate for me.

In the end, I decided to go to Professional Beauty London, which is, quote, "the ideal place to meet therapists, nail technicians, hairdressing and beauty salon owners, tanning salons and freelance / mobile therapists looking to source new suppliers and benefit from great deals".

Well I do therapy, so why not, I may learn something, and it was a chance to be with a colleague.

I should have known it was not for me as soon as I got on the DLR train, it was full of excited young girls, obviously from a college going to the exhibition. But, I had come this far, being delayed by slow trains and cold, I may as well continue, and anyway I had made arrangements to meet someone there.

As soon as I got inside the hall, my suspicions were confirmed, this was not for me, but I did stay long enough to fight my way around the crowded aisles, of eager young girls, some in their health and beauty uniforms, their name badges hanging around their necks, craning to see the latest hair extension stand, the many nail specialists, the waxing treatments, the spray bronzing equipment, and other painful looking treatments on show.

At 95 (ho ho, I am not really 95) years of age, I do not think makeup will help me become more attractive or look any younger. I did not see any hair extensions in gray, and I have enough hair on my head to keep me warm, so I do not need a wig. My nails would look rather strange with flowers or birds painted on the, and I do not like pain so I am happy with having hair on my legs and my other private parts, and would not like waxing.

My friend was totally absorbed by the experience and enjoying every minute, but all I could think of was each hair being pulled off my leg, oh the agony.

I made my excuses and left, leaving those others behind, buying, learning, absorbing information relative to them, and perhaps some of those attending could pick-up some tips on becoming beautiful, because they needed help in their make-up application.

Me I am happy on my journey, how I look, and what has been given to me, as people can take me as I am, and yes I did see some well made-up females, in English we say that they "looked the bees knees", looked really great.

But then I thought, I wonder what they are really like, what is their personality like, would I get on with such a person?

How would they compare to the little tubby girl next to her, with no make-up, spots on the face, hair askew, and with hairy legs?

Um, beauty is only skin deep.

The exhibition was the same, on the surface and on paper it looked good, but when I got involved, it was not for me. For others it was the greatest adventure they had taken, it was for them.

Sometimes we take a road that keeps promising us the world, happiness, security, wealth, and we get taken in by promises and hold on with expectation, but we eventually find that road is not for us, no matter how it is made-up to look good, and then we have to change direction. If not, it will lead to heartbreak and unhappiness, be it a job, a relationship, a holiday or an exhibition.

I am happy on my journey, doing what I do, who I am and how I look. But that is my Cat on the Mat, my view of the world, and in my world I am warm and cuddly.

Phoenix Squadron, HMS Ark Royal

Phillip Holt — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 09:07:00 GMT

I have lived through many interesting times which have gone down in history, and it is only now, having time and the knowledge and ability of PhotoReading, (to absorb 20,000 - 30,000 WPM), that I can research and read so much more, to give me more insight into what has happened from the many books which continually get published to appear on book shelves.

A book is only as good as the author, and contains only what he or she wishes to write. So, I always try to stand back, to try and understand what is the author trying to tell me, what have they included in the book and what have they left out.

My fascination for aircraft, fast jets, fighter aircraft, airliners is ever strong, from the Hawker Hurricane of WWII, the Airbus A380 to Concorde, the one aircraft I wanted to fly but never made.

One book recently caught my eye, something I advise participants on my PhotoReading courses never to allow to happen. The picture on the dust cover of the hardback book Phoenix Squadron by Rowland White, showed two iconic fighter jets, the Blackburn Buccaneer, with HMS Arc Royal in the background.

In the bookshop, I quickly Previewed the book, and had the feeling that this book could help me understand more about the crisis between Britain and the South American country Guatemala, over one of the British Empire's last territories British Honduras, soon to become the independent country Belize. (see map of Belize - click).

The book tells how the Guatemala President, Colonel Arana Osorio, and his powerful military leaders, saw British Honduras as part of their country, and how neighbouring countries also saw either the little territory as useful to them as a means of expansion, or as an opportunity to assert influence as I seem to understand the USA was trying to do.

It was understood that the military wanted to invade British Honduras as the British were moving away from "owning" countries, by giving independence to nations, to their own people, and it was the wishes of the British Hondurans that they had their independence, and not become part of Guatemala.

The British had a very small military presence in British Honduras, no aircraft, no ships, just a few solders, but news of an impending invasion, a build-up of military strength by Guatemala, summoned to last aircraft carrier in the British Navel Fleet, Ark Royal with it's onboard aircraft the F-4 Phantoms and the Blackburn Buccaneers, to race over 2,000 miles across the Atlantic, to show the strength of the British military, and head off any plans Guatemala had.

The book itself gave a good account of the crisis from the British point of view, perhaps one day I can find a book written on the subject by an author from Guatemala to understand how they view their history of that time. It is well researched by other written material, newspaper and TV accounts, naval and government reports, and interviews with members of Arc Royal and the Royal Fleet Air Arm.

The book was at times difficult to read as it was full of acronyms or initialisms, for example, SPLOT, RAS, MADDL, CBALS, (hover pointer over to see meaning), which meant flow of reading was interrupted as I tried to workout and understand the meaning.

The first half of the book had little to do with the crisis and the part played by the Arc Royal and the Phoenix Squadron, but gave the background to the carrier and aircraft and their history. The author, Rowland White, built-up suspense, with stories of problems of the iconic and world beating Buccaneers taking off from the deck of Ark Royal, and I felt myself being let down when an accident did not happen, I was waiting for something to happen.

Personally I did not find it as "gripping as any Tom Clancy thriller", as said on the cover by the BBC Top Gear presenter Jeremy Clarkson, but yes "riveting" because of my interest in that field of knowledge.

But now, should I research more to view things from others points of view, or move on to other learning?

Exeter, lifes journey

Phillip Holt — Sat, 06 Mar 2010 12:36:00 GMT

Feeling sorry for myself, having fulfilled my commitments for the day by 12 noon, I was at a loss for something to do with myself.

I know I am about to get a head cold, there is a strange sore feeling at the back of my nose, when that happens I know I will get a running nose, ending with my nasal tracts being stuffed up and blocked.

As I was a long walk from home, perhaps an hours walk which is good for me as it is exercise, my mind suddenly came up with an Idea. In the distance a fast train raced down the rail track to some far off destination, and I thought, why can't I be on that train?

My mind raced through distant places, as my eyes caught a plane reaching for the sky having just taken off from Heathrow, Penang in Malaysia, Machu Picchu in Peru, Rome in Italy, Erzincan in Turkey, all places far far away, too far.

How about Brighton on the South Coast of England, Bognor Regis another seaside town on the South Coast? I love the seaside.

Then I had a Eureka moment, Exeter in Devon.

Exeter is a town I had never been to, but heard about. My school friend from many years ago, Ronald Rose, used to go on holiday there, and back at school would not stop talking about it. My mind was made up, Exeter here I come.

My local train service, South West Trains, had a train that went there. I would see the City of Exeter I had wondered about for all these years, and as a sea port, be able to see the sea.

By 12:20 midday, with a sandwich, with fillings I had never heard of, and orange drink in hand I joined the train, and soon we were racing through the countryside, visiting railway stations, picking-up and dropping-off passengers, my mind fantasizing what I might see at the other end of the line, nearly four hours away.

At Salisbury, the nine carriage train parted, the first six carriages of to Exeter, the last three off to Bristol. Although I knew I was sitting in the correct part of the dividing train, a slight panic raced through my mind, "was I on the correct train?".

The speed of the train now reduced as we stopped at more frequent stations, some with platforms too small, so only the first three carriages of the six was actually in the station.

At one station we were held for five minutes. Why?

The rails was single track, with only limited places where trains could pass, so there could be only one train at a time on the track, one up train and one down train.

This did not bode well, small stations, single rail track, we must be leaving the hustle and bustle of suburbia, of London.

Eventually arriving in Exeter Central Station, one stop before the end of the line, I searched the city center map on the wall.

"Where's the sea?"

No where to be seen, so I headed to the city center, from there I must find the sea.

With seagulls squawking overhead, that must be a good sign surely, I headed down a steep hill, leading to a valley which I reasoned must contain a river which will lead me to the sea, and sure enough, there was the river, but no sign of the sea.

Nearby, was an old ruin, was it an old church, or a castle, or just an old warehouse? Some one was working on the stones, obviously an archaeologist, but I could see no information to help me.

There were direction signs which pointed to the City Center from where I had just come, and another to the Quay, a six minute walk.

Now that is the direction for me to go.

I walked by the side of the River Exe, slow flowing and not very wide, sitting in a valley.

I followed the flow of the river to the Quay, which was now a collection of cafés and handicraft workshops and only four or five at that.

There were no ships in the port, and as I read the information plaque outside the public toilets, I found out that it had begun to close in about 1840 due to that single track rail track built by Brunel I had just traveled on, which could take the wool exports away quicker. The port continued into the 20th Century, but declined rapidly, eventually closing to only the pleasure boats, and not many of those either.

The old warehouses, as in many old ports of the UK, have been converted to offices, apartments and restaurants.

Still no sea.

Exeter Quay
Another information plaque in the small harbour showed a map, and I was about eight miles or twelve kilometers from the sea, connected not solely by the River Exe, but a canal built two hundred years ago, to bring the trade ships to the quay.

By this time, it was too late to visit the sea, even if there was a pathway for me to follow.

I returned to the city center, noticing how small Exeter was as it rose up from the River Exe's valley.

I visited the Cathedral, St. Peters, an imposing building, but it was getting late, I was getting cold, my nose now running even more, and I contemplated the four hour train journey home.

St. Peter's Exeter Cathedral
Thankfully, I passed a book shop selling books at a cut price. That is my answer, a good book to read on the way home.

With another sandwich, with again only understanding the ingredients cheese, the rest I had no idea of, plus an orange drink, I boarded the London bound train.

Totally absorbed in my book, the journey fled past.

I had built up in my mind a day out to remember. I had in my mind something out of this world, total satisfaction, wonderment, a fantasy of Exeter started in my school days by Ronald Rose.

I was disappointed, it was not what I expected.

Life is so cruel to me. Oh Poo Poo.

But hang on, yes life is like that. We build something up to something beyond what will happen, what is there and available and we go for it, only to find that our expectations may not be fulfilled.

Yes, sometimes our experiences far outreach our expectations.

I actually had a great time.

I had forgotten about my running nose, my head cold. I had learned some more things about Exeter. I had relaxed for once. I had read a book and learned something from that.

I had made the journey I had watched others had done and made the sames journey myself and can now relate it to you reading it here.

Life is a journey, sometimes it is not what we want, sometimes it is more that we expect, but we should take the journey and be happy what we experience, for to be sure the track we take could be a fast or a single slow track, but it has a start and an end.

Enjoy.

Water under Tower Bridge in London

Phillip Holt — Fri, 05 Mar 2010 09:55:00 GMT

It was a cold, crisp evening as I stood near to Traitors Gate of the Tower of London, looking down the River Thames at a wonderful view of Tower Bridge.

Tower Bridge, London, seen from The Tower of London, Traitors Gate
As I stood there, I wondered how many times had the bascules had been opened, the central section which has two sections swinging up and down, to allow shipping to pass up and down stream.

I wondered how many people had left London on journeys to other parts of the world, sometimes never to return, sometimes to return to a different London they had left, as London is continually changing.

I wondered for how many people this was their last sight as they went to beheaded, but then realised that Tower Bridge was opened in 1894, and the last beheading at the Tower of London was nearly 300 years earlier in 1601, one Robert Devereux, 2nd Earl of Essex, and the last execution being by firing squad in 1941 of a German spy Josef Jakobs.

I watched the flow if the River Thames, as the water was flowing back up stream from the Thames Estuary, flowing under the bridge as the tide was rising, just like the River Thames has always done bringing back travelers and people with memories of far off places and experiences.

I could not wait in the cold night air to see the water change direction to flow downstream, washing away the dirty water, the drift wood, the flotsam and jetsam. I had a warm home to get back to.

There is a saying "water under the bridge", which means referring or looking back at past experiences, good or bad, which we have decided to or should have forgotten, to have left behind us.

Perhaps looking at way the flow of the River Thames under Tower Bridge is a better idiom or metaphor, for as past experiences are washed away, the tide brings them back once again, but there is even more fresh water from upstream which will eventually wash away the dirty water, the memories.

PhotoReading in Milano, March 2010

Phillip Holt — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 16:49:00 GMT

A recent course in PhotoReading just finished in Milano.

The participants, PhotoReading, Milano, February 2010

I am always pleased to see old faces I know on the course who return for free, to reconfirm, to practice the techniques taught on the course. It is a chance to make the learning even stronger.

But no course would be the same without the chocolate cake, and sure enough a cake arrived.

The chocolate cake, PhotoReading, Milano, February 2010

Thank you all.

see "Old Friends"

Old friends

Phillip Holt — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 12:11:00 GMT

Still traveling to Italy to give courses, it is always great to see old faces, friends I have made on previous courses, and yes I can call them friends, as we seem to make a bond.

One such person is Donatella Fazzino, a lovely girl, whom I have met many times on NLP courses and PhotoReading and Mind Maps, her smiling face, her eagerness to learn, and her friendship was a joy for me.

Oh and Donatella, your driving was not that bad.

Donatella Fazzino and Phillip Holt Milan 2010

The power is with me

Phillip Holt — Thu, 25 Feb 2010 09:33:00 GMT

I have a day off today in Rome, the airmen I am training have their senior officer visiting their base, so I am catching-up on my work and emails.

I had just finished replying to an email, and just about to hit "send", when I receive a text message from the person.

I then sent an email message to a person who had been negotiating with me to provide courses for them, but I had not heard from for two months,saying, if they did not wish to proceed, please let me know as I have other people wishing to work with me, and within five minutes, my telephone rang, and one of these people was asking me to go to their country to give my courses.

Oh Poo Poo, I really must have the power I talk so much about, telepathy, the power to transmit my thoughts.

What a difference a day makes

Phillip Holt — Sun, 21 Feb 2010 07:52:00 GMT

Although I have traveled to Milan in Italy, I have not ventured from the Concorde hotel where I am giving PhotoReading and Mind Mapping courses, it is an enjoyable time,as I take participants from unconscious incompetence towards unconscious competence.

The participants visibly get more confidence and better with each hour, and the difference after a nights sleep is very evident.

It has not only been the participants who have changed but also the weather.

Arriving early Thursday morning, to a little snow in the air, to cold rain on Friday and Saturday, this Sunday morning there is not a cloud in the sky. Now for Rome tonight.

View from the Concorde Milano

A talk tp the Probus Surbiton Club

Phillip Holt — Wed, 17 Feb 2010 16:00:00 GMT

One of the benefits of my work is that I am often asked to give talks.

Today I visited the Surbiton Probus Club, with about 50 members in attendance.

I hardly ever know what I am to talk about, unlike other speakers who have one set talk, so sometimes I get a challenge, to make the talk entertaining and informative, to get it right so that the listeners do not fall asleep, especially after a good meal. Well, if the talk is on hypnosis, then falling asleep can be an advantage.

But now I am back home. I have ironed my shirts, now I must pack for an early start to Milan Italy tomorrow, to start a set of PhotoReading and Mind Map courses in Milano and Rome.

Visit www.strategiegeni.com to book a place.

Surbiton Probus Club