Jonathan N. Wakeling - Tea: a personal story

Libra Balances The Books

Proudly presents

Tea - a personal story

by

Jonathan N. Wakeling

Copyright Jonathan N. Wakeling 2021

About the Author

Jona and Great-granny, Leslee Maasdorp at Christon Bank, Christmas Day 2020

Hey, Im Jonathan. Speak-a-little-French is my Native American name Rolling Middle-earth Cassiopeia W. Im a psychologist, philosopher, explorer of culture and researcher with an interest in history, ancient civilizations, psychic phenomenon, ESP and the occult UFOs and aliens secret societies and hidden information. Anything New-age or health related piques my interest. Past lives, hypnosis, reincarnation and spirituality have been a lasting passion as has the dream-world and drug experiences. The arts, of all varieties, rejuvenate my soul and keep me sustained.

A note on the text

A warning shot and a foothold on the internet:

Having extended a hand of trust and diplomacy to the US in the last five years via the US Embassy to Harare and the CIA most importantly, I feel that I must endeavour to make this data public for the sake of enjoining a more private and useful conversation with many of my dear friends (and enemies?), who I hope and wish would be happy to see this important book reach its timely end as I find the confidence to write it. For everyone's safety and security I am uploading this "taster" to the Internet, first and foremost via the Central Intelligence Agency. Any requests to delete this document can be sent directly to the C.I.A.

love jn

https://justpaste.it/tea_a_personal_story

Contents

Introduction

Where did tea come from?

Chapter One

Youth and the fight for a night's sleep. A fight with my Dad.

Chapter Two

Peer pressure and addiction: At war with Britain - Mugabe: A retelling.

Chapter Three

Freedom and constraint. The rise and fall of the libido and "leaving home"

Chapter Four

Medication and the end of the Golden Years. Skin absorption of oral medication: The Psychiatric Crucifixion Method.

Chapter Five

Social media and the fight for the Internet. Losing my autonomy and finding my self again: September 11th 2010 and everything after.

Chapter Six

Where to from here? Reflections on the "happy" beverage. Humanity's future and a Brave New World of tea drinking..."No sugar thanks!"

Conclusion

Tea and the law: Everyones drink and the poor mans flag

Introduction

Where did tea come from?

Firstly, I haven't read all the "tea" books out there. I have, however, drunk more tea in my short 41 years of life than most drink in many lifetimes.

This is what the introduction on Wikipedia says on the subject of tea:

Tea is an aromatic beverage prepared by pouring hot or boiling water over cured or fresh leaves of Camellia sinensis, an evergreen shrub native to China and East Asia. After water, it is the most widely consumed drink in the world. There are many different types of tea; some, like Chinese greens and Darjeeling, have a cooling, slightly bitter, and astringent flavour, while others have vastly different profiles that include sweet, nutty, floral, or grassy notes. Tea has a stimulating effect in humans primarily due to its caffeine content.

The tea plant originated in the region encompassing today's Southwest China, Tibet, north Myanmar and Northeast India, where it was used as a medicinal drink by various ethnic groups. An early credible record of tea drinking dates to the 3rd century AD, in a medical text written by Hua Tuo. It was popularised as a recreational drink during the Chinese Tang dynasty, and tea drinking spread to other East Asian countries. Portuguese priests and merchants introduced it to Europe during the 16th century. During the 17th century, drinking tea became fashionable among the English, who started to plant tea on a large scale in India.

The term herbal tea refers to drinks not made from Camellia sinensis: infusions of fruit, leaves, or other plant parts, such as steeps of rosehip, chamomile, or rooibos. These may be called tisanes or herbal infusions to prevent confusion with "tea" made from the tea plant.

Ref: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tea

Secondly tea makes you pee. Of course (without being crass) what goes in must come out, and, therefore, I've developed a more personal relationship than most with the lavatory due to excessive urination.

Thirdly, high doses of caffeine have resulted, since my teenage years when my habit began, with habitual insomnia for which I have more recently been medicated.

Fourthly: coffee! Although my experience in excess is mostly with tea, due to my lack of money, I have also had much experience drinking above average quantities of coffee - from espresso to cafe au lait and everything in between.

Fifthly: drugs. In this analysis of the common drink tea, I draw on extensive experience of drugs and alcohol, mostly in my youth. Experience which I've gained a kind of distorted pride in as the years have quickly ticked on.

The sixth and final comment in this brief introduction is your (and my) personal preference regarding how you take your favourite cuppa. That is, strong or weak, with or without milk and sugar; and preparation, that is, loose tea or teabags. In the finest bone china, or in your own treasured mug. In a tea ceremony, a single cup of two with friends or alone, one cup after the next after the next.

In conclusion, there is very little to be said on the subject of tea except this: drink it or don't drink it - it makes little health difference and consumption of this widely accepted beverage can even improve your health, if taken without sugar.

Chapter One

Youth and the fight for a night's sleep. A fight with my Dad.

It happened so often I can clearly recall it. My father, dressed only in a night t-shirt and clutching his private parts in modesty, would poke his head around the corner of the lounge and say "Go to bed!" or "Bedtime!" or whatever in a commanding voice. It happened so often I began to be traumatised by it. The twang of guilt for something I simple shouldn't feel guilty of. And I'll tell you, dear reader, now, that this story continues to this day. I was staying up late watching TV and drinking tea or coffee and later, in my quickly disappearing youth, smoking my father's cigarettes. Staying up late, or even all-nighters, never lost their "naughtiness" even as I left my sorry, TV addicted, youth in the dust. This "ritual" that my father performed was at one, or two or even three in the morning.

So, there was guilt. And it was exacerbated by lying awake in bed, waiting for sleep to take me (in the summer, haunted by the whine of mosquitoes that drove me to the edge of sanity).

Chapter Two

Peer pressure and addiction: At war with Britain - Mugabe: A retelling.

Maasdorp, my mother's maiden name, has become a popular term in Zimbabwe, through Maasdorp Ave., Harare and the Maasdorp Avenue Market opened in recent years. This, amazingly enough, is a valuable piece of information in the telling of this complex story. This is in part due to my mother, Dorothy Wakeling, retaining her marital name, Wakeling, after her divorce from my father, and furthermore failing to remarry - although she did take on another partner. It becomes immediately clear that this tale is lost without details and names of family and friends and their respective places of abode in Harare (and possibly further abroad). And it becomes difficult to relate to those without knowledge of Harare's street names and geography.

My brother, Angus Wakeling, my sister Julia Wakeling and a family friend, Simon Attwell (the brother of Toby Attwell, my so called "best friend" growing up) had the rare opportunity to be remembered by history. And this is how: Three boys and a naked girl in a camping tent don't make a Martini. Finding my sister naked in front of me, legs open, with my brother and his, then, friend Simon, watching, I was put in an unconscionable position. I decided that I would let history remember the moment rather than running to Mom and Dad and informing them of what these "naughty" kids were doing. I fondled my sister's vagina very briefly (still, myself fully clothed) and then exited the tent. Beyond that, to this day, I know nothing of what then transpired in said camping tent, and nor do I wish to have any further information on the subject.