Sweet Pills for the Hospital Ward

By John A B Lansdown

Sweet Pills for the Hospital Ward is a compilation of five books all offering restless verse primed to divert sluggish thoughts away from pending medical appointments to refocus on the fabric of society. Illustrated plays are punctuated with irreverent images of politicians and other despots. Social issues are addressed using political satire as a cathartic remedy for hospital inmates. Since they have a plethora of faces to spare, bureaucrats from different branches of governance will no doubt endorse their images for public appraisal. This philanthropic gesture will no doubt be appreciated by convalescing readers
Compilation - Sweet Pills for the Hospital Ward
Book One - Pills for the First Consultation
Book Two - Pills for the First Night
Book Three - Pills for the First Day
Book Four - Pills for Visiting Hours
Book Five - Pills for the Homeward Bound
Hospital administration becomes such a bind when institutional doctors concur that the first thing a patient needs is a pen to push around on a sheet of multi-choice questions. A tirade of officialdom seems designed to confirm a patient’s new status as an article of trade - colloquially termed a ‘client’ in medical law jargon. If the red tape louts starring in this book get their way, the patient becomes a commodity statistic.
As an antidote to bureaucratic thoughts, the author prescribes these undemanding yet subtle anecdotes containing irreverent plays interspersed with original artwork, plays and poems by the author. While intended for a patient destined for a long spell, the verses may be read by anyone seeking asylum from dominant ideology.
The opening play pokes fun at the veneration shown to despot, Kim Jong-Un during a triumphant tour of a North Korean psychiatric ward. While tin pot dictators offer easy targets for satire, the author also has his cross-hairs trained on western figureheads, politicians, gurus and businessmen. Plays, poems and fables are richly enhanced with digitally manipulated audacious images of dubious characters from eugenics proponents to tabloid proprietors. Paintings by the author offer an interlude from the relentless satire of prominent social leaders. In particular, an interned patient may relate to the fable ‘Bureaucratic Short Fuse’ since it allows vent to exasperation invariably thrust upon a patient when confronted with wads of unsigned documents published in small print legalese.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John A B Lansdown
• Release date: Aug 14, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463902653

John A B Lansdown

Formative years in the scenic Lakelands of North West England shaped John A B Lansdown into an outside landscape painter. Making violins at the prestigious Newark School in Nottinghamshire garnered a discipline that rubbed off onto his fine art. Watercolours, sketches and oil paintings interweave his poems and plays. Selling paintings internationally, he exhibits in Bulgaria, Austria, France and England. His prime displacement activity is playing a hand-made cigar box guitar accompanied by a voice allegedly resembling a tormented alley cat.

Book preview

Introduction

By popular request, all five in the ‘Pills for the Hospital Ward’ series of publications has been stuffed into one special compilation edition.

Book One - Pills for the First Consultation

Book Two - Pills for the First Night

Book Three - Pills for the First Day

Book Four - Pills for Visiting Hours

Book Five - Pills for the Homeward Bound

Book Cover ‘Plovdiv at Easter’ (close up) 2013 Oil on canvas (900 x 900mm)

Chapter One – Pills for the First Consultation

To comprehend society

A probing mind is not enough

Medicine is of the essence

When a grasp of politics is limited

By the health of our stomach

-Best regards,

Lansdown, April 2019

Hospital administration becomes such a bind when institutionalised doctors concur that the first thing a patient needs is a pen to push around on a sheet of multi-choice questions. A tirade of officialdom seems designed to confirm a patient’s new status as an article of trade - colloquially termed a ‘client’ in medical law jargon. If the red tape louts starring in this chapter get their way, the patient becomes a commodity statistic.

As an antidote to bureaucratic thoughts, the author prescribes these undemanding yet subtle poems. In particular, an interned patient may relate to the fable ‘Bureaucratic Short Fuse’ that is highlighted since it gives vent to exasperation invariably thrust upon a patient confronted with wads of unsigned documents published in small print legalise.

Despot Tour

A Play of One Act / Three Scenes

Cast:

Pil Pop the Mind Corrective Faculty Administrator - Pol Pot

Leva Side-slap - Lavrentiy Pavlovich Beria

Replacement Chauffer - Ratko Mladich

Mr Rubberneck - Nicolae Ceausescu

Mrs Rubberneck - Elena Ceausescu

Sausage filling - Jang Song Thaek

Ward sister – Lyudmila Zhivkova

Laughing Chauffer - Karl Marx

Cuddly despot - Kim Jong-Un

A list of prominent doppelgangers appearing in the play illustrations can be found in appendix one

Act One / Scene One

A convoy of sleek cars are conveying top political elite on a triumphant tour of North Korean working facilities. We join this illustrious inspection team with Kim Jong-Un in the back seat of a black windowed limousine with trusted advisors at hand. Cars following behind are equipped with experienced nurses armed with loaded hypodermics on the off chance Kim Jong-Un breaks out of his drug induced hypnotic stupor. Kim Jong Un’s uncle Jang Song Thaek is conspicuously absent after their previous visit to a sausage making factory.

Kim Jong-Un:

To break up this journey I will ask a riddle;

How many western imperialists does it take

To change a light bulb?

Leva Side-slap:

Alas, I fear I will fail this test

‘Chief-fighter-against-capitalism’

Allow me to inflict appropriate self- punishment

This activated car cigarette lighter

Shall be stubbed firmly upon my ignorant tongue

Lest you honour me not with the answer

Kim Jong-Un:

None of them because their butlers have gone on strike!

(General guffaw among the advisors)

That sausage factory at the last inspection

Made some right tasty delicatessen

I must watch my weight

Leva Side-slap:

What nonsense, dear ‘Enlightened leader’

You’re emaciated enough for a catwalk

Where sadistic capitalists force-starve fashion models

Coercing hungered skeletons to strut their prancing

In flimsy designer rags

Kim Jong-Un:

It was very touching of those sausage-making shamans

To name their latest brand after a member of my family

Even though he was a rather naughty uncle

Leva Side-slap:

Oh yes, ‘First-among-the-deprived’, as I always say;

Hand me the man; I’ll show you the crime

Kim Jong-Un:

Though it was strange how they gathered around

With a strange glint in their eyes

While I ate samples of their new ‘Song-Sausage’

Some of them were stifling sniggers

Why was that the case?

Leva Side-slap:

Ignorance confounds me to confusion,

Oh ‘Prime-spokesman-of-downtrodden-serfs’

Suffice to say I now pursue wholemeal vegan fare

Also I will recommend the sausage-making staff

To be rehabilitated to waste management

Kim Jong-Un:

So, what’s next on this magical mystery tour?

Leva Side-slap:

The following inspection in this round of triumph

Will further confirm our superiority over the debauched west

Namely, an inspection of a lunatic asylum

Kim Jong-Un:

Oh no, surely not a visit to my uncle’s family

Leva Side-slap:

Ah – ha ha!

(Even the chauffer laughs; this lapse of concentration causes the car to swerve vigorously)

Very droll, my ‘Proletarian-excellence’

Actually it is a resonant reminder

Of the sublime efficiency of our state empowered health system

Our statistics confirm a guaranteed recovery rate

Of a hundred percent

Thus proving full physical and mental health

Throughout North Korea

It is anticipated that shortly after your jubilant tour

There will cease to be any mentally disabled

In our splendid country

(Kim Jong Un claps)

Kim Jong-Un:

With no need to cater for mental cases

We will simply close down all nut joints

North Korea can soon announce to Western Powers

In the same style of their juvenile tabloid headings:

‘WE ALL COMPOS MENTIS – YOU LOT PLAIN OLD MENTUS’

(All staff concur resolutely with clapping protocol such salubrious wit merits)

End of Act One / Scene One

Act One / Scene Two

With a new chauffeur who is less prone to inane giggling, the esteemed entourage pull up at the anticipated asylum. Kim Jong-Un steps out of a darkened limousine to be applauded by a waiting public as he ambles along a freshly washed red carpet towards the Mind Corrective Faculty, MCF.

Mr Rubberneck (Sotto voice):

I’m getting chapping blisters

From slapping my hands together

I cannot continue this adulation much longer

Phew!! Great – he’s finally going where he belongs

Pinch me so I know it’s for real

Mrs Rubberneck:

Cease not reverential clapping just yet, dearie

Lest our hopes go belly up

Alas, the sociopath clinic is empty and unfunded

On account of a demand for officious loonies

A seasoned gamut of nutters

Is sorely required to fester government appointments

Morons going hand in glove with disciplined misery

He’ll soon be out again causing ordered mayhem

(Inside the institution, Kim Jong Un’s staff is hailed by the chief hospital administrator)

Pil Pop - MCF Administrator:

Ah, fat boy, we haven’t seen you for a while

We must catch up with events now you’re on the outside

Leva Side-slap:

Thou shalt not defile our glorious leader

Save your childish repartee for your patients

This is the ‘Superior-chairman-for-the-abject-under-class’

Pil Pop - MCF Administrator:

Oh... yes of course (Wink wink) say no more

Step this way your eminence among...what was it now...

Ah yes, ‘Prime-champion-of-the-peasants’

(Kim Jong-Un and his train are ushered into the hospital faculty)

End of Act One / Scene Two

Act One / Scene Three

Loose plaster jumps from the hospital walls with synchronistic precision to reverberating applause conducted by the entire hospital community for their magnificent leader. An inescapable mantra of ‘We love Kim Jong-Un, He’s not an onion, He’s a good ´un’ barely ceases. As Kim Jong-Un parades along each of the wards, every patient clamours to the end of their bed to hail ecstatic chants of affection for their wise exemplar punctuated with clapping before drawing smartly to attention with elaborate salutes.

Leva Side-slap:

This visit could have been a resounding victory

Were it not for that minor blip, dear ‘Hero-of-the-sweaty-orders’

When a patient demanding your signature on an elitist record cover

Deluded enough to confuse you with a pop star called Kim Wilde

Pil Pop - MCF Administrator:

Here we are, ‘Chief-arbiter-of-the-forgotten-classes’

This last ward is the notorious C ward

Inmates are interred for delusional concussion

Symptoms of the trauma manifest in a strange conviction

Of being western figureheads of decadent culture

Adopting mannerisms of western sycophants is a vulgar infliction

But this ward has made significant progress;

While many inmates still retain their compulsion

To emulate Western Imperialist iconography

Their admiration for the ‘Top-agent-of-the-forlorn’ has no equal

Fire safety protocol has little place in the construction of a mini Kim Jong-Un chapel constructed by C ward from interlocking pillows replete with lit candles and icons in the likeness of the ‘Righteous-peasant-leader’. Upon the entrance of Kim Jong-Un, attendees of C ward pass into a state of rapture. It is insufficient for these impressionable patients to merely clap and salute at the end their allotted bed. Orderlies and medical staff are unable to assuage the display of unmitigated joy for Kim Jong-Un.

Expressions of utter euphoria are expressed with somersaults, spontaneous jigs, banging of chamber pots, synchronised rapping and improvising the sleeping facilities as trampolines. Many patients fling away their head bandages upon declaring themselves miraculously cured by the presence of their ‘Unimpeachable underclass-representative’. Jubilation at the esteemed visitation affects even the ward rats who make an appearance to greet the ‘One-who-is-more-equal-than-others’. One long-term inmate is so overwhelmed that he simply stands coyly at the end of his bed feeling unworthy to gaze upon the shining glory of the ‘Esteemed-defender-of-the-proletarian-faith’.

At the finish of the ward inspection, Kim Jong-Un is startled to arrive at a woman strangely attired in white dress and headgear. Although she appears serenely calm, she is obviously deranged since she wears no make-up.

Kim Jong-Un:

Why aren’t you saluting?

Woman in White:

I’m the ward sister

I only work here - I’m not crazy

Curtain Descends

Jongfish:

On the ‘scale’ of things - this is a haircut to go ‘happy-flappy’

The flower for the painting ‘Lone Rose’ was savagely picked to be lovingly painted during 2009 in the Sredna Gora region of Bulgaria where the soil and climate is ideal for the production of oil extract. Even a single rose can significantly alter the ambience of a room. Oil from the Bulgarian rose is renowned for its healing properties as well as providing fragrance for the perfume industry. In the Bulgarian rose trade, the oil produced after distillation is considered liquid gold before exportation.

Sadly, the final commercial product is diluted with petro-chemical by-products to be retailed at many times its original value under prestigious Mediterranean sounding perfume brand names. Potential customers ought to know that most perfume is little more than adulterated rose oil.

Britain too has a rose mania penetrating the House of Commons. A puppet-ship of roses characterises the lower chamber where discerning between the rose and the puppet presents a challenge. One may wonder, albeit with underwhelmed disinterest, whether Jeremy Corbyn will become tainted by the parliamentary Labour party - or vice versa. Even jaded sceptics among us would no doubt prefer to believe Mr Corbyn is more than an artificial rose scent manufactured by the Fabian Society to maintain a façade of policy-making taking place in Parliament. Yet, such optimism seems academic when one considers all legislative policy is ultimately implemented by Whitehall civil servants who skivvy to the tune of administrative directives issued by the Knights Temple and the Crown Trust of the City of London.

Thirst for enlightened autonomous discourse in the Legislative Chambers is unquenched by the ethos of the Fabian Society who derive their philosophy and name from a Roman general called Quintus Fabius Maximus Verrucosus. General Fabius was a renowned battle strategist whose tactic was to hassle the enemy for prolonged periods without fully deploying his troops until the foe was demoralised and weak. This cunning general would surely admire Corbyn’s strategy of baiting public opinion over a long phase without marshalling the party fully until voters become appropriately drained and compliant from previous government administration.

In such a vulnerable state, the impressionable masses are less inclined to resist the Fabian-inculcated Labour Party posing as a friend of lay citizenry while incognito pursuing a policy of population control. Given that Mr Corbyn is moulded from Fabian ethos, it would be imprudent to wait for this dark affiliation of the Labour party to a supremacist eugenics movement to be relinquished soon.

‘Fabian Fragrances’, the top London perfume salon, proudly announces the launch of a select range of perfumes for the new man. Patented brands include ‘eau d’Corbyn’ - a pungent body spray of sweat extracted during political broadcast. No matter what you get up to men, just splash it all over so you too can swing along smelling of roses.

‘This way to the left, folks!’

Jeremy gleefully yells

Incarcerated readers with a lengthy stay in the ward with a predilection for displacement activity may like to try recognising the funny pixies cavorting amid the abundance of confiscated food and wine lakes in the illustration above. Those wishing to remain within the guideline parameters of statutory requirements pertaining to European litigation, should resist peeking at the answers listed in appendix one.

The following play ‘Europan’, recognises the troublesome pantomime of elections as well as unnecessary public interference that merely hampers wise mandating governance across national borders.

Europan

A Play of One Scene

This fickle dialog is transcribed from a scratchy tape cassette discovered in the lost property office at Denver International Airport. Analysts conclude the recording was made towards the end of a meeting of the Round Table gathered in a top secret luxury underground facility below the aerodrome to review the end of the nation state. Dismantling countries to be assimilated into various administrative regions will be done by transforming the United Nations into a web of centrally controlled ‘non-governmental organisations’.

Cast:

Chairman Castrati: - Henri de Castries from Bilderburg group

Smiley Secretary - Tony Blair, former Prime Minister of UK

NATO representative - Charles Taylor of Liberia

Round Table Knight - Omar al-Bashir of Sudan

Chairman Castrati:

To impose a system of unelected officialdom

Adolf Hitler was blighted in his attempt to unify Europe

His obvious mistake was to call his scheme

The 'Europaische Wirtschaftsgemeinschaft‘

Round Table Knight:

Be not despondent

For European unification lives on

This tongue twisting German label has been translated

Now it is the nice-sounding European Economic Community

Chairman Castrati:

Quite so, after all, Nazi uniforms were getting unfashionable

How refreshing to trade in Gestapo garb for Brussels business suits

Round Table Knight:

This new European Union is a flexible regime

Common folk will rejoice at the liberation

From difficult pronunciation

More important still

It will unburden them of electoral and referendum angst

Of having to decide in complex matters

Plebeians seek not dilemmas

To drain their simple lives

Chairman Castrati:

To summarise our agenda at this stage

It can be safely said

That the campaign to establish a sophisticated central power

Continues after the launch of euro coinage

It was prudent to protect the monetary installation

Lest the market and metal exchange interfere

In the launch of a single European currency

All member states obediently submitted their gold

Even yielding their own currency and bond reserves

To the European Central Bank in Frankfurt

Our secretary will outline the details of the power play

Smiley Secretary:

In a most jolly wheeze

Six unelected bankers are assured eight years in office

Making decisions that are irreversible

Fearing not reprisals

This is backed up by the Maastricht Treaty

To successfully legalise European dictatorship

Chairman Castrati:

You seem upbeat

Considering Cameron carved his own demise

By pandering to the sweaty masses

Offering sovereignty to the populace with a referendum

Round Table Knight:

Such seedless grounds for pessimism

Yet needless doom and gloom you spout

Yet time is not wasted;

Seeking approval from uninformed human chattel

Gives a chance for wise political coordinators

To demonstrate the imprudence of the public voice

A good ploy would be to introduce mayhem into the economy

An infliction to reveal the folly of the referendum

For Britain to exit the European Union is a dreadful chore

As punishment to the public being allowed to run amok

No longer to be the centre of financial commerce

British populace will be coerced to re-join the bureaucratic tyranny

Or better yet, to become a member of NAFTA

Smiley Secretary:

The North American Free Trade Agreement

Is scheduled for phase three

After evolving into an American version of the European Union

A major step towards consolidating international power is achieved

Founding an American Union may need bribes and blackmailing

But unprincipled politicians pay for themselves many times over

Augmenting decisions a dithering public could little comprehend

(General murmur of agreement around the table)

NATO Representative:

Prime tosh it is to view the wine and food surplus as wasted

Worthy politicians who dedicate themselves

To centralisation ... I mean, the process of European Unification

Ought to be recognised for their selfless contribution

To express an appreciation of their selfless dedication

It is appropriate their efforts are amply rewarded

Politicians are rightly allowed to romp freely

Frolicking among horded fruits of abundance

Lining shores of wine lakes

Smiley Secretary:

Beating a politician with a stick is not always ergonomic

Sometimes carrots prove good motivation

In this magical grove of abundance

The urn of Hitler is prominently featured as a focus of remembrance

An ongoing reminder lest expenses-paid-politicians

Loose focus of the long term agenda for European Unification

Round Table Knight:

Righto, by way of an explanatory note for this meeting

It may be concluded;

‘Keep them happy with their snouts in the trough

So no questions asked’

Chairman Castrati:

Dear me, enough of this expansive talk

Let’s off down to the rotary club for some larks

Last one to the bar is a green-eared Masonic apprentice

(All exit in an undignified scuffle en suite)

Curtain Falls

Smiley Blair:

Now that you are all crouched about

Let me sing you a song about the lovely European trade aggregate

A young lad made no formal request

Yet he finds himself upon a quay

Awaiting the departure of Morning Cloud

No stamped envelope arrived at the BBC

No one appealed for a trip

To go out in a yacht

Sailing the Jersey Sea

Petitions for yachting adventure were never made

For boys to swim

To a forlorn shore

Resting below the salty horizon

Crying for the mainland

Claiming it home though it’s not

Rather a domicile devoid of compassion

Unfit for mislead boys

With a shake of his shoulders

Captain Heath bellows;

‘Ho, ho, ho, ho!

I’ve done my deed so now about’

‘A quick lug is all it takes

To get you off my boat

No need for slitting throats from left to right

Today I am lazy without care’

‘Though your sufferance

Will draw on longer

The anguish will remain unheard

Beating against an earless surf’

‘This vessel will quick away

At quite some tack

Your flapping limbs will be unnoticed

Fathoms swiftly grow ´twix me and thee’

Strange things that happen at sea

Occur to thwart us from self-rule

We whine for protection

Asking help from the same people who allow maritime frolics

When more centralisation becomes our request

Interpol solution is documented registration

Forms of restricting protocol to be observed

Allows unseen unelected to decide

As drops of revelation

Permeate shocking tabloid headlines

One wonders why

Only now are horrors revealed

Methodical lunacy

Hidden from view

Using practiced slander

To goad a jaded public

A crisis of moral

Is a martinet rally call for tyrants

Druids of a cabal creed

Spreading a mayhem of dispossession

Cajoled into Masonic schemes

A single World Government

Based upon inverted goodness

Of impeccable madness

Denial of our own fidelity

Sinking our heads into ignorant sand

Asking for increased rule

Not wanting raw healing truth

Our response heralding world fate

Dilemmas best gallant met

Whether to grovel down on compliant knees

Or to rip away the mask of sordid manipulation

Kim Jong-Un (Whispering in Ear):

That’s it Jimmy, leave kids alone

Round up political parasites instead

A Background Introduction to the Play

While the poem above delves into the sleazy activities of celebrities and politicians, we may want to garner some wisdom that hinders our being manipulated into a knee jerk reaction. As further revelations emerge we should be wary of requesting yet more powers at the disposal of international unaccountable organisations. Possessing a remit that crosses national boundaries, Interpol, United Nations and NATO already subjugate national sovereignty while civil liberties are further diminished by secretive quasi-government organisations and semi-autonomous law enforcement agencies.

‘Quangos’ range from