128 – Cancelled, Part 3: 24 December 2024

This photo shows me with the exceptionally wonderful Sue Marshall.  Sue had cancer and was dying when this was taken. 

Sue’s widower was Christopher Reilly.  He was sitting next to me when on the barbecue day, Anne Ryan flounced her hair (literally) just like Miss Piggy on The Muppets, stood up, said “I am not going to listen to this” and then flounced her way back into my home.

Chris Reilly promptly joined the Cancellation Crew.  He knew exactly how Anne Ryan had behaved, and he completely approved her awful behaviour.

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This is the second half of the letter I sent to Anne Ryan on 28 January 2021

Now to return to what happened yesterday. By walking away and saying that you were not going to listen any more to what I was saying, you were in effect saying that if I say anything that you disagree with, you have the right to claim that you are upset by what I am saying and I must in future take care never to say anything that you disagree with.  This is called censorship.  Put another way, even though you perhaps tell yourself you are a champion of free speech, you are only prepared to let people speak freely if they say things you agree with.  If I ever say something you disagree with, you will close down my views by refusing to listen and by claiming that you find them personally upsetting. For the record, this is a vile tactic and I refuse to co-operate with it. In addition to making me feel that a treasured friend has decided my ideas are so worthless they should not be listened to, your actions in choking off my ability to voice my thoughts also had a direct physical impact on me. You may or may not be aware that I have suffered considerable physical discomfort during the weeks and months since Margie was diagnosed with Ampullar cancer.  This discomfort was particularly acute over the 7 weeks that she underwent radiotherapy and chemotherapy.  My physical discomfort has manifested as severe diarrhea, periodic shortness of breath, sudden, severe bloating and severe discomfort caused by the bloating.  When I get the bloating, hard experience tells me I will not be able to get any sleep that night. Until yesterday, the bloating, diarrhea and shortness of breath had drifted into the past (it was about 3 weeks since my last episode).  My 3 weeks of relief from these symptoms came to an abrupt end about one hour after everyone had left our place yesterday.  The diarrhea started again.  Adding some spice to the mix, I also got an optical migraine.  This is like a migraine but without the headache.  It sounds harmless enough but it can be quite debilitating.  I get pressure on the eyes and visual symptoms - usually jagged lightning bolts obscuring my vision.  Then the stomach went into full bloating mode.  It swelled and I started burping and continuously hiccupping.  Later that night, I didn’t even hear the phone ring when my son Chris rang to say hello.  I was too busy hoping that I would send only bowel contents (and not parts of my bowel) down the toilet. I did legs up the wall for 15 minutes at about 9:00 pm hoping it would settle my body down.  It did help but not for long.  By 1:00 am I was still awake and hiccupping continuously and realising that it would be yet another no sleep night and that if I stayed in bed, it would simply guarantee that Margie got no sleep either.  So I got up, closed the bedroom door to try and insulate her from my noise and tried dozing on the couch. I did finally drift off on the couch at about 3:30 am and woke at about 5:20 am. Telling you about these physical consequences is not meant to try and get sympathy.  I am trying to point out that there are physical consequences for everything that every one of us does.  You might think claiming to be offended at what I say it is a reasonable way of silencing views that you disagree with.  I do not.  I profoundly believe that every person who is not expressing support for violence has the right to say whatever he or she wants.  I believe that the world is a far better place where people are able to say what they think because in the middle of the babble of views, deep truths may emerge.  No matter how unlikely you think it is that you might be wrong, much of what you and I think, has a high chance of being wrong.  When one person accurately points out reality, the reality being pointed out does not cease to be true simply because everyone else in the world thinks otherwise.  Reality does not depend on whether or not other people accept it as “true”.  Reality always remains “true” no matter how many people genuinely believe otherwise.  None of us see more than a small slice of the whole of reality. Your preference to avoid views that contradict your own, reminds me of lyrics from an old Monkees song   With slight amendments, the lyrics reflect your apparent attitude to views that differ from your own. “Why don’t you cut your hair? Why don’t you live up there? Why don’t you do what I do?  Think what I think when I care?”   So that is what I have to say.  I can’t walk at Morialta with someone who thinks my views are so worthless that I should not be allowed to express them.  This is profoundly upsetting for me, but I am not willing to do things that might well result in more emotional distress for me and create a real possibility of more horrible nights like Tuesday night.   John

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What follows are exact copies of the texts which we exchanged on 28 January after I sent my letter dated 27 January 2021.

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Text from Anne received 10.17 am Thursday 28 January.

I read your email and I recognise everything you said.  I’m so sorry you had such a bad physical reaction.  I have no idea what to do about our political differences or about this rift.

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Text from me to Anne Ryan sent 10.35 am 28 January.

I do not know what to do either but do treasure the friendship.

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Text from Anne to me sent 10.37 am 28 January.

Me too.  We probably need to talk at some stage and look for a solution,

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Text from me to Anne sent 10.39 am 28 January.

Yes.  Let it be for now.

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Text from Anne to me sent 10.39 am on 28 January.

I think that is a good plan.

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The exchange of texts led me to think it might be possible to salvage something from the friendship wreckage created by Anne Ryan’s behaviour.  

I was wrong.  

I knew nothing about the Woke religious Cult.