tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22110381015539344292024-03-18T04:32:38.612-07:00Mr Parker's BlogJ. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.comBlogger46125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-82359831840969983572024-03-18T04:32:00.000-07:002024-03-18T04:32:06.586-07:00Can We Coordinate? Resisting the UK Uniparty in 2024<h3 style="text-align: left;"> All Hail the Uniparty</h3><p>The next general election will happen within the year. That we know. We also know that we are now governed by a Uniparty. At the next election this pro-war, neoliberal austerity Uniparty aims to once again be in government </p><div data-en-clipboard="true" data-pm-slice="0 0 []"> </div><div data-en-clipboard="true" data-pm-slice="0 0 []"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8KBiGzDsMebIUaCE42rPIMTXJecvTYC45f0uw4MwZs1HcQxQ06_NnF_lk1qMCM5oM-uivYoOKsXIRufvcvtpL4Haqahy9Qf21Bocuk2FJmuXQAkYm6LBcHk81YGLG-Ck5w2wJe71G0bgZcskw7U0msBRTAshj4rvXpXZ28DT8IIsoN9-nZHfDsKNl0qs/s740/Narrow%20Overton%20Window.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="421" data-original-width="740" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8KBiGzDsMebIUaCE42rPIMTXJecvTYC45f0uw4MwZs1HcQxQ06_NnF_lk1qMCM5oM-uivYoOKsXIRufvcvtpL4Haqahy9Qf21Bocuk2FJmuXQAkYm6LBcHk81YGLG-Ck5w2wJe71G0bgZcskw7U0msBRTAshj4rvXpXZ28DT8IIsoN9-nZHfDsKNl0qs/s320/Narrow%20Overton%20Window.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All Hail the <a href="https://x.com/tomorrowsmps/status/1766503733272199229?s=20" target="_blank">Uniparty</a>!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table> </div><div>The Uniparty could carry the name Conservative or Labour (or, to be honest, Liberal Democrat or Reform). It makes <a href="https://x.com/emmadentcoad/status/1768602809035817251?s=20" target="_blank">no discernible difference</a>. Has there ever been a time when the political class of Great Britain was so united and yet so out of touch with the concerns of people "on the ground"? It would be an interesting question with which to research history, but, to me, looking at it in the first half of 2024, the gap has never appeared to be wider. </div><div> </div><div>What grates, as much as the clear differences between "them" and "us" in how critical issues should be approached and dealt with - is having to put up with tedious, discredited homilies that include phrases such as "we've maxed out our credit card". The fact is that when you look beyond the shallow pantomime that presents itself as party politics in 2024 you see that the political class has seemingly merged into one, while "the common people", hopelessly addicted to arguing on the internet, distracted by the bread and circuses of the mass media, and divided by the rabid press, appear hopelessly atomised.<br /></div><div> </div><div>As the dearly departed George Carlin once opined, "It's a big club, and you ain't in it." </div><div><br /></div><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span class="css-1qaijid r-bcqeeo r-qvutc0 r-poiln3" style="text-overflow: unset;"><i>"If a large majority of your population wants to stop genocidal war crimes and yet your government officials double down in doing the opposite, you do not live in a democracy."<br /></i><a href="https://x.com/jasonhickel/status/1768536015549919633?s=20">Jason Hickel</a></span></p><div> </div><div>Can the Uniparty be resisted? Well, possibly. Around the country resistance is finally mobilising. </div><div> </div><h3 style="text-align: left;">What Does Resistance Look Like</h3><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt4DsoC2SXKX5vKDEIh_v1ardNNJRTnSoCSuTyye3kgAQmwvsyP1hYBfFKpe86NAJ3-M-v1iwwUNbeiXmtguDXqiaIXm1xgbzLkzRAgCsedPYkkaiQb02wmcvQZT83xzffL97m-cWDJuntx5oyjlsmJZyS7NEkpjraH_Xlj9lwdVgoeczWfPCwWFU1I-A/s891/George%20Galloway%20Rochdale.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="537" data-original-width="891" height="193" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt4DsoC2SXKX5vKDEIh_v1ardNNJRTnSoCSuTyye3kgAQmwvsyP1hYBfFKpe86NAJ3-M-v1iwwUNbeiXmtguDXqiaIXm1xgbzLkzRAgCsedPYkkaiQb02wmcvQZT83xzffL97m-cWDJuntx5oyjlsmJZyS7NEkpjraH_Xlj9lwdVgoeczWfPCwWFU1I-A/s320/George%20Galloway%20Rochdale.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image taken from the <a href="https://morningstaronline.co.uk/article/editorial-labours-meltdown-gives-galloway-momentum-rochdale" target="_blank">Morning Star</a><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>Whatever you think of <a href="https://youtu.be/r3Igf6aCcno?si=LcleXNXYPHFIrqi1" target="_blank">George Galloway</a> - and not everyone's a fan - his Rochdale by-election victory was important to those who are horrified at the cosy, genocide enabling consensus which dominates Westminster. It demonstrated there is a hunger for an alternative to the Uniparty. The hysterical reaction from the establishment, which included a ridiculous speech by Rishi Sunak outside No. 10 Downing Street and further draconian measures to "deal with extremism" on the way, care of Michael Gove, showed how angry we make them when we don't play the game by their rules. The resistance has been galvanised, for sure. But what does this resistance broadly look like?<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>What we see now are many strong <a href="https://web.archive.org/web/20240210205405/https://amp.theguardian.com/politics/2024/feb/10/labour-mps-facing-wave-of-independent-challengers-over-stance-on-gaza" target="_blank">independent candidates</a> coming forward, hoping to replicate Galloway's success and shock the Uniparty out of its complacency. We also see <a href="https://greenparty.org.uk/" target="_blank">The Green Party</a> assert themselves as an alternative force who will stand candidates in every constituency. And there's more. </div><div><br /></div><div>There are also alternative parties such as George Galloway's <a href="https://workerspartybritain.org/" target="_blank">Workers Party of Great Britain</a>,<a href="https://twitter.com/andrewfeinstein" target="_blank">Andrew Feinstein</a>'s <a href="https://www.thecanary.co/uk/news/2024/03/01/collective-andrew-feinstein/" target="_blank">Collective mass movement</a> and the new <a href="https://www.newarab.com/news/new-uk-party-wants-labour-never-forget-gaza" target="_blank">Never Forget Gaza</a> party. <a href="https://juststopoil.org/" target="_blank">Just Stop Oil</a> have also announced they will field candidates. And there are others such as <a href="https://transformpolitics.uk/" target="_blank">Transform Politics</a> and <a href="https://leftunity.org/" target="_blank">Left Unity</a>. And outside England there are parties including <a href="https://www.snp.org/" target="_blank">SNP</a>, <a href="https://www.albaparty.org/" target="_blank">Alba</a>, <a href="https://www.partyof.wales/" target="_blank">Plaid Cymru</a> and <a href="https://vote.sinnfein.ie/" target="_blank">Sinn Fein</a>. <br /></div><div><br /></div><div>However there is a danger here: what if these alternatives start to get in each other's way? The last thing we want is to see the Uniparty triumphing because the resistance were siloed, disorganised and taking votes from one another. We need some form of coordination to fight the genocide consensus.</div><div><br /></div><div>Many people still hope <a href="https://twitter.com/jeremycorbyn" target="_blank">Jeremy Corbyn</a> will throw his hat into the ring as a leader of a new party, or as a unifying force for this burgeoning anti-establishment movement. But if he is going to do something he's leaving it very late. The fact is that despite everything, there is only one political party in Corbyn's life as far as I can see it, and for better or worse, that party is Labour. The big question after that is can Corbyn, for the sake of his constituents, abandon the party he has dedicated his life to and run as an independent at the next election? Even doing just that would be a shot in the arm for the resistance - and the latest signs <a href="https://www.cityam.com/jeremy-corbyn-looks-set-to-run-against-labour-in-islington-north/" target="_blank">look promising for this</a>.<br /></div><div><br /></div><h3 style="text-align: left;">What should the Strategy Look Like </h3><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpKDytD_-ahOVredSI3lbXmuSWETDKETSNgLrYOvL4GjMmKotV-Uw4Q7p2zLT2YZ4NwhjxNs-8fbcv4QfBPOyS888QiS6b7Idby9ikTmP4TuaQz42REEnkmMA0YTZkw597Nf3AuCsBapCQX3MYscz_rQi1vl7mMPYA7q5H4FkR2W-Z0WngW14QwIRPtK4/s466/Leanne%20Mohamad.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="409" data-original-width="466" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpKDytD_-ahOVredSI3lbXmuSWETDKETSNgLrYOvL4GjMmKotV-Uw4Q7p2zLT2YZ4NwhjxNs-8fbcv4QfBPOyS888QiS6b7Idby9ikTmP4TuaQz42REEnkmMA0YTZkw597Nf3AuCsBapCQX3MYscz_rQi1vl7mMPYA7q5H4FkR2W-Z0WngW14QwIRPtK4/s320/Leanne%20Mohamad.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image taken from the <a href="https://prc.org.uk/en/speaker/77/leanne-mohamad" target="_blank">Palestine Return Centre</a><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>So what should the strategy be, if and when a general election is called (and time is running down) to maximise the Resistance vote and do as much damage as we possibly can to the Uniparty? How can we maximise the Resistance's potential and give it the best chance we can to be real force for good in the next parliament? </div><div><br /></div><div>My thought is we need to organise constituency by constituency. And in every consituency you will find different circumstances, conditions and priorities for the voters. In some constituencies there could be a strong independent candidate like <a href="http://leannemohamad.co.uk/" target="_blank">Leanne Mohamad</a><span style="color: #1d9bf0;"> </span>in Ilford North. In others like Bristol Central the Green Party's <a href="https://twitter.com/carla_denyer" target="_blank">Carla Denyer</a> is best placed to defeat the Uniparty. </div><div><br /></div><div>So, here's what, maybe, we could do to address this issue:</div><div><br /></div><div>1. Check which resistance candidates (not Conservative, Labour, Lib Dem or Reform. Sorry Lib Dems but I don't consider you with the good guys) are running in your constituency. </div><div><br /></div><div>2. Call a public meeting for all resistance candidates and their allies. The first item on the agenda at this meeting would be to to get to know each other and see if we can work together. We don't have to agree on all issues - it would be unusual if we did - but I would suggest we should agree on certain red line principles. </div><div><br /></div><div>3. Examples of red line principles as things stand now could include, but not be limited to: an immediate ceasefire in Gaza, action on climate breakdown, protecting the NHS, electoral reform and taxing the super rich. </div><div><br /></div><div>4. As long as we can agree on a set of critical principles such as those stated in point 3, the next critical question to examine would be "which of our resistance candidates stands the best chance of defeating the Uniparty in this constituency?" </div><div><br /></div><div>5. Answering this question honestly and objectively would make demands of people: for some maybe it would require them to sacrifice their ambition and ego for the greater good. </div><div><br /></div><div>6. But once the most likely anti-Uniparty candidate has been chosen then everyone can put all their energies behind this candidate. </div><div><br /></div><div>What about the Green Party's pledge to stand candidates in every constituency? Is it possible this might get in the way with them coordinating with the resistance in some constituencies? Possibly, but I don't think this has to be a barrier to them taking part in this exercise. As ever, local conditions will dictate what actions they, and others wish to take.The strength of the Green Party is that there is a lot of autonomy granted to granted to local parties.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>These are my thoughts. I don't claim they are perfect or particularly original. What I do hope is that an urgent conversation is begun between people of different parties and factions. As stated, time IS running short. </div><div> </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/jsCR05oKROA" width="320" youtube-src-id="jsCR05oKROA"></iframe></div><br /> </div><div><br /><br /></div>J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com026 Wirksworth Rd, Duffield, Belper DE56 4GZ, UK52.9849763 -1.499616731.433650131058908 -36.6558667 74.536302468941088 33.6566333tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-40382985906100608282023-09-22T13:44:00.006-07:002023-09-24T17:13:13.873-07:00The Story of My Baby Oak Trees<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij86kJglbGqeD4AB3C2FXu0i_ll_bvsq-jDogOqvy_pFcXfxnfqGGR5Sq0WRpH3cX7ItDRt_71ao0vtU5jNvjc_IDbVo1GkwlDbqg-kIMDAC3tkeQzYlTuXE72TE2Eq5dI1uOSTinbSrgwMPkr5zj_i5u9jD1txXzo6MpD9b0U36k7Co0cLa95IlFHFLg/s2000/My%20Oak%20Trees.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij86kJglbGqeD4AB3C2FXu0i_ll_bvsq-jDogOqvy_pFcXfxnfqGGR5Sq0WRpH3cX7ItDRt_71ao0vtU5jNvjc_IDbVo1GkwlDbqg-kIMDAC3tkeQzYlTuXE72TE2Eq5dI1uOSTinbSrgwMPkr5zj_i5u9jD1txXzo6MpD9b0U36k7Co0cLa95IlFHFLg/s320/My%20Oak%20Trees.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br /> So here they are, my babies! đ Their story? <br /><br />This time last year, in Autumn 2022, I was still looking after my elderly mother. Every day, just before tea time, we would go out for a walk. We always traced the same route around the estate where we lived. I would remind her of the road names as we walked and she would reminisce on the people that she knew, who were living or had lived at certain places on our route, some of them long gone. We would comment on people's gardens, on the flowers that were growing there, some of them covered in bees and butterflies, which was always nice to see. We also had our favourite trees. One in particular was a birch tree with beautiful, flawless silver bark. As we approached our house we would stop and marvel at the huge buddleia which grew in a neighouring garden - alive with buzzing, flying, pollinating and hovering things.<br /><br />On Doe Bank Lane, which boasted views across green fields and up towards the ancient Beacon which is the highest point in the West Midlands, there was a mighty Oak tree. I would pause and pick up an acorn from the ground, and when we got home, I would drop the acorn into a bowl of water. Sometimes the acorn would float, and I would leave it in the garden for the squirrels. But sometimes the acorn sank to the bottom of the bowl. Then I would keep it, and put it in the fridge with a little damp soil.<br /><br />There were also other trees I collected from: I went to a protest camp run by Palestine Action in the woods around the local Elbit weapons factory in Lichfield. And I would pick up acorns. I went to the Green Party Autumn conference, outside of which grew a huge Horse Chestnut tree. From there I picked up some conkers (and ran the same test).<br /><br />Then tragedy struck: my mother had an accident and broke her ankle. She went to hospital and never returned. Now she's in a care home in Bromsgrove. To pay for her care, we sold our family home, which was heartbreaking. I moved to a flat not far away, but I kept my acorns and my conkers, as they underwent the Winter stratification process.<br /><br />Spring came, and I was on trial at Wolverhampton Crown Court for my part in a Palestine Action protest. My barrister was not hopeful, and feared that my sentence may be very severe, should I be convicted (which I unfortunately was). The judge presiding over our case was aggressively strict. We nicknamed the prosecutor, who appeared to be carrying out a personal vendetta against us "The Ghoul". It was a gloomy time, even if there was good camaraderie between the defendants, and we still managed to joke about a lot of it.<br /><br />I planted seven of my acorns, and two of my conkers.<br /><br />And they grew. To see something like this grow from the beginning is a special feeling. Amidst the endings, and the darkness, new life was sprouting. <br /><br />As Summer passed, and I awaited my sentence, I gave away two of my Oak seedlings to friends. Now you see the remaining five. As you can imagine it is very much my hope that I can find places for them where they will be safe, and grow in peace. Maybe somewhere where I could visit and check on their progress.</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /> <p></p><p></p>J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-43086064624266720842020-05-30T11:56:00.003-07:002022-01-08T09:34:45.850-08:00Does Planet of the Humans Ape the Environmental Movement<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
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A Perspective on the Controversial film, by an Extinction Rebellion (XR) Supporter<o:p></o:p></h1>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXJlOIQlNYRjGOJ3vUTX3Sz0s-j6J0gIBezurnytK1cRlaafKV1sn4ll2AiTvN_qeXtheKkdGxEeQES1Pq1ypUpcEpmL5_Y19VvO_EDvF5hPeehL1EL1k2e83kDKc9ZT5_ypN9A9H4D7A/s1600/photography-of-factory-929385.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="933" data-original-width="640" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXJlOIQlNYRjGOJ3vUTX3Sz0s-j6J0gIBezurnytK1cRlaafKV1sn4ll2AiTvN_qeXtheKkdGxEeQES1Pq1ypUpcEpmL5_Y19VvO_EDvF5hPeehL1EL1k2e83kDKc9ZT5_ypN9A9H4D7A/s400/photography-of-factory-929385.jpg" width="273" /></a></div>
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Taking Liberties<o:p></o:p></h2>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">The new Michael Moore film, Planet of the Humans puts the Climate Cat upon the environmentalist pigeons. Indeed, to many Green supporters it is about as welcome as the sight of the Statue of Liberty was at the end of the movie its title is a play upon: Planet of the Apes. It is arguably Mooreâs riskiest release to date. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Previously, everyone knew what Michael Moore was about; or at least they thought they knew. The bane of arch conservatives, and a continuous thorn in the side of the American ideology that is often disparagingly referred to as the âGuns and Bibleâ faction by its critics. The vast majority of this faction are very strongly aligned with the Republican party and their view of the world.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Moore has gained a reputation as a darling of the âleft and Liberal wingâ in America with movies like Fahrenheit 9/11, Which Country Shall We Invade Next and Bowling for Columbine. And people have come to expect Mooreâs works to poke holes in the rigid worldview of the right leaning targets of his polemic creations.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Whose Side Are You On?<o:p></o:p></h2>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Planet of the Humans takes aim at what producer Moore and director Jeff Gibbs refer to as âour sideâ.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Who do they mean by âOur Sideâ? According to Moore, âour sideâ are the Liberals, the environmentalists, the âProgressivesâ. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">How does this relate to Extinction Rebellion? Well, like it or not (and some members of XR might not like it; such as the ones that consider themselves, in the words of one of XRâs slogans, âBeyond Politicsâ) there is a certain perception of environmentalism. This perception is held in America, where every major issue is now strongly partisan. And the perception is that environmentalism is to the Left of the political divide (even though achievements like the creation of the Environmental Protection Agency in the US are credited to the Republican Party).</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">And how does Planet of the Humans take aim?</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Publicity for the film claims that it will show us the âdark sideâ of the âsacred cowsâ of environmentalism. In practice that means an attack on renewable energy and notable groups and figures in the environmental movement itself.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Some Inconvenient Claims<o:p></o:p></h2>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Here are a few of the contentious claims made by the film. They are relayed without further comment for now:</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "symbol";">¡<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Renewables cannot go all the time, and need fossil fuel power plants idling in the background to power in reserve. Having to turn a fossil fuel plant up and down constantly makes it extremely inefficient and even more hostile to the environment. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "symbol";">¡<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Renewables themselves can be very destructive for the environment because of the vegetation that needs to be cleared to construct a solar or wind farm, and also because they can be made of concrete and steel (wind turbine) or mined material (solar panel). At one point Gibbs looks at a huge wind turbine and muses âcan we use big industry to save us from big industry?â</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "symbol";">¡<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The shelf life of a solar panel or wind turbine is relatively short (20 years approx) before they need to be replaced. This means more mining, more concrete and more steel as the replacements are constructed.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "symbol";">¡<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Often when coal plants are shut down they are not replaced with renewable energy but with natural gas, another fossil fuel. Sometimes the natural gas plant that replaces the coal plant is even bigger that the power plant it supersedes.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "symbol";">¡<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">To overcome the problems of intermittence in Sun and wind, you need to store power in batteries, but this greatly increases the carbon footprint of the power source you are using. At the moment (according to the film) we are only at a fraction of 1% of the battery power that we need to make solar and wind a viable replacement for fossil fuel and nuclear power sources.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "symbol";">¡<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The search for funds can lead environmental groups to âget into bedâ with big banks, polluting companies and fossil fuel corporations â in other words they rely on the people that got us into this crisis to get us out of it. Two major targets for the ire of the film makers are Bill Mckibben of 350.org and ex vice president Al Gore of An Inconvenient Truth fame.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times";">What to Make of it All?</span><span style="font-family: "times";"><o:p></o:p></span></h2>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">So what is an Extinction Rebellion supporter to make of all of this? Should we endorse this work, condemn it, or something in between?</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16px;">In the opinion of the writer is is useful to separate intent from execution when we assess this piece.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 16px;">Intention wise, I believe there is much in Planet of the Humans that supporters of Extinction Rebellion can relate to.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 16px;">However when we examine the execution of the project problems arise.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">So letâs look at each in turn.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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The Failure of Environmentalism<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Gibbs and Moore believe that the environmental movement, even though it has achieved good things since it began in the 1960s, has failed. In his recent podcast Moore read out a damning set of statistics:</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Since the first Earth Day:</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "symbol";">¡<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">90% of large fish (cod, tuna etc) have disappeared from our oceans. We are eating them out of existence.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "symbol";">¡<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">95% of (non human) mammals on Earth that now exist are our pets or our dinner.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "symbol";">¡<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Between 2,000 and 10,000 animal species are going extinct every year.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "symbol";">¡<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">We have lost over half of our topsoil, and some scientists and agriculturalists predict it may all be gone in the next 60 years (it takes 1,000 years to generate 3 cm of topsoil).</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "symbol";">¡<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Of the 34 main aquifer systems (underground water supplies) on the planet, 21 of them are approaching total collapse.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "symbol";">¡<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">We lost 1.2 billion acres of rainforest in 2018 ALONE.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">And, of course, we are, at 415 parts per million CO2 in our atmosphere, way past the 350 ppm âsafe limitâ for life on Planet Earth.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8TM44j6ba5Y1qG51fQkPuNkzs4gUHKoKiejGRsvODKRFyPNFDfbSUQ4iQHvEmiDe39-EngU7972cBn5gNnX6JHfV1ouXluPJjZJiFzlYWJwoG7TCcQlG0WereFPNtjprF1IxG9LFAUqI/s1600/photo-of-a-woman-standing-on-a-pile-of-garbage-near-trees-2583835.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="640" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8TM44j6ba5Y1qG51fQkPuNkzs4gUHKoKiejGRsvODKRFyPNFDfbSUQ4iQHvEmiDe39-EngU7972cBn5gNnX6JHfV1ouXluPJjZJiFzlYWJwoG7TCcQlG0WereFPNtjprF1IxG9LFAUqI/s400/photo-of-a-woman-standing-on-a-pile-of-garbage-near-trees-2583835.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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Hitting Earthâs Limits<o:p></o:p></h2>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">One of the most haunting moments in the movie is when Steve Running, an ecologist from the University of Montana, discusses how humanity is transgressing multiple planetary limits: multiple instances of the boundaries of what we can exploit from the Earth. And yet we continue to hope that a miracle of technology will save, not us a species, but the way of life that we have become addicted to.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Humanity (and particularly the âWestern Worldâ) are addicted to consumption; we are addicted to endless expansion on a planet with finite resources.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">And so far there is nothing in this that Extinction Rebellion would argue with. We also want to end humanityâs addiction to growth and consumption. One of Extinction Rebellionâs main themes right now is Degrowth, and the need to end Gross Domestic Product as a measure of a nationâs success. XRâs Clare Farrell mentioned this specifically during her discussion with the makers of Planet of the Humans.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">We also have been trying to warn our species that humanity is overstepping planetary boundaries, one of which is in the state of our climate. And, terrifyingly, that is only one of boundaries we have transgressed. As with Planet of the Humans, XR is sending out warnings that we cannot pin all of our hopes on technological solutions that will come and save us in â10 years or moreâ. By then it could well be too late.</span>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Like the makers of Planet of the Humans , XR set out to shake up the environmental movement. Like the makers of Planet of the Humans, XR believes that, despite some breakthroughs, the story of the environmental movement is the story of failure, and that different approaches are needed. And why are Moore, Gibbs et al sending out this message?</span><o:p></o:p><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Because the makers of Planet of the Humans want humanity and the governments of the world to ACT NOW!</span><o:p></o:p>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><a href="https://rebellion.global/about-us/" style="color: purple;">And so does Extinction Rebellion</a>.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">So, so far so good then.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">So what are the problems?</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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The Problems<o:p></o:p></h2>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">When Jeff and Ozzie from the Planet of the Humans crew visit the Solar power generating system in Daggett California they are shocked to find that it has been âraised to the groundâ.
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">It suddenly dawned on me what we were looking at,â Gibbs narrates mournfully as he surveys the desolation, âa solar dead zone.â
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">But was all that it seems?
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">It transpires that what Gibbs was looking at was the sight of SEGS 1*, a solar generation plant that was closed in 2015. It will not have been long before this plant was replaced by Sunray 2, a far more powerful Solar plant.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">So, not a solar dead zone any more then. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">The new Sunray system is better in every way: more efficient, takes up less land, and does not need water to cool it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">This is far from the only time in the film that Gibbs and co mislead the viewer when it comes to their criticisms of renewable energy.
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Accusations<o:p></o:p></span></h2>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi74RFwqbLtMfcFI6Fg59XK5RI2Se99Rl4GfqbN98CSmR7HO-gnL5TuLpUEsOgxaPx0P1UaNFsKUp0ZvfWIi4i5XoqlUETHsL7bEwmd_3iyes531YPlEHUgoFVt8a2-VCme7pKyTaXuTIY/s1600/bird-s-eye-view-of-woodpile-1268076.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi74RFwqbLtMfcFI6Fg59XK5RI2Se99Rl4GfqbN98CSmR7HO-gnL5TuLpUEsOgxaPx0P1UaNFsKUp0ZvfWIi4i5XoqlUETHsL7bEwmd_3iyes531YPlEHUgoFVt8a2-VCme7pKyTaXuTIY/s400/bird-s-eye-view-of-woodpile-1268076.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Another target of the documentary is Biomass, a form of energy that entails turning trees into woodchip, which is then burned to provide electricity. The movie portrays a âpro-environmental movementâ that seems to consider Biomass as a renewable source.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">It does not take much research to realise that biomass is anything but renewable.</span></span><br /></div><div style="font-size: 10pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">During the course of the film it is implied that Bill Mckibben, founder of the 350.org climate change movement, looked favourably upon biomass as a replacement for fossil fuels. And while it is possible that may have been the case in the period between 2010 and 2012 (the time period in which much of this film is shot), it is no longer the case now, as Mckibben is keen to point out in his response to Planet of the Humans posted on 350.orgâs website.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Is this slander?<o:p></o:p></span></span>
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</span></div><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><h2 style="break-after: avoid; color: #4f81bd; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 13pt; margin: 10pt 0cm 0.0001pt;">
Population<o:p></o:p></h2>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">While the phenomenon of an exponentially growing human population and its effect on the planet is an issue we should not hide from, we should always treat this issue with the greatest care, and make sure that it is placed in its proper context.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">There is no doubt that population growth on Earth has exploded since the Industrial Revolution, which is incidentally also the time when greenhouse gases began to be pumped into the atmosphere on, well, on an industrial scale.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">But that doesnât mean that the environmental footprint of all human beings is the same. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">The documentary makers would have done well to cross reference population with the other huge issue they seek to bring to our attention: that of consumption. If they did this they would find that in several key measures, including co2 emissions per head and land use per head, the consumption of human beings in the <a href="https://www.encyclopedia.com/social-sciences/applied-and-social-sciences-magazines/north-and-south-global" style="color: purple;">Global North</a> outstrips the consumption of those in the rest of the world by a very wide margin.</span></div>
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<h2 style="break-after: avoid; color: #4f81bd; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 13pt; margin: 10pt 0cm 0.0001pt;">
The Girls of the World<o:p></o:p></h2>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">As well as this, it should be said that a very effective way to deal with population growth is to educate and empower women and girls. That is because by educating and empowering women and girls across the world, you will inevitably get more birth control as a result. And more birth control means more population control.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Gibbs and co could mention either one of these qualifications as they warn us of the spectre of unrestrained population growth. The fact that they donât, and instead present us with a parade of white faces from the Global North to commentate upon âthe heard of the elephants in the roomâ leaves them vulnerable to accusations like a colonialist mentality and eco fascism.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">When challenged, Gibbs and Moore strenuously deny a âMalthusianâ** approach to the issue of population. I give them the benefit of the doubt, but I have to admit their approach is clumsy at best.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<h2 style="break-after: avoid; color: #4f81bd; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 13pt; margin: 10pt 0cm 0.0001pt;">
Making a Judgement, Overall<o:p></o:p></h2>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">So, a film that is noble in intent but deeply flawed in execution. Important questions are asked in the film: about consumption, about placing our trust in âmiracles of technologyâ to fix problems, and about the multiple planetary boundaries that we are crossing. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Unfortunately to make this point, they use information that in many places is painfully out of date, make criticisms that are arguably slanderous, and approach issues in a way that leaves them vulnerable to the charge of Eco fascism.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Perhaps the most pertinent question to ask in summary is, âdo the ends justify the means?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">This is a question that Extinction Rebellion has often asked itself during and after our more controversial actions. Can we as supporters put our hands on our hearts and say the answer has always been yes?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">One of the pre-emptive criticisms of this film was âI guess theyâll say they were trying to start a discussionâ. But is the aim of starting a discussion so wrong? A discussion <i>has</i> started. Even the most ardent critics of this movie admit it made <i>some</i> valid points.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Moreover, if putting the climate and ecological emergency into the common discourse was the aim of the film, then with nearly 7.5 million views at the time of writing, you have to say it has been a success.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 10pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Whether the ultimate influence of Planet of the Humans will be seen as positive or negative can only be judged at some future point.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<h2 style="break-after: avoid; color: #4f81bd; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 13pt; margin: 10pt 0cm 0.0001pt;">
Conclusion<o:p></o:p></h2>
<div style="font-size: 10pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Like Extinction Rebellion, Planet of the Humans seeks to build awareness. Like Extinction Rebellion, the film is telling us that infinite growth on a planet with finite resources is not possible. Like Extinction Rebellion, the film concedes that is not any particular chemical, or particulate, or atmospheric condition that is destroying the natural world.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 10pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">The thing that is destroying the natural world is the greed we have unleashed, and the system we have allowed to dominate both nature and ourselves.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 10pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">âHumankind is challenged, as it has never been challenged before, to prove its maturity and mastery, not of nature, but of itselfâ.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 10pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Rachel Carson</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhURcRfDzvMLfti-Z98vgLc26FNHYnhUo9ojjdsfr58Rzoyd0VXbKM_X5geweeXM9MrSJ3CnWuCZwAbrmANhIgJTMdPhEWaW9NpgNbYzOh4BZeP9heYvfCjI_t0S_-joZnpNwyezdRWzHo/s1600/climate-people-street-crowd-2990610.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhURcRfDzvMLfti-Z98vgLc26FNHYnhUo9ojjdsfr58Rzoyd0VXbKM_X5geweeXM9MrSJ3CnWuCZwAbrmANhIgJTMdPhEWaW9NpgNbYzOh4BZeP9heYvfCjI_t0S_-joZnpNwyezdRWzHo/s400/climate-people-street-crowd-2990610.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">* SEGS = Solar Energy Generating Systems</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "cambria"; font-size: 12pt;">** </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Malthusianism has attracted criticism from diverse schools of thought, including </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marxists" style="color: purple;" title="Marxists"><span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">Marxists</span></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> and </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Socialist" style="color: purple;" title="Socialist"><span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">socialists</span></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;">, </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Libertarianism" style="color: purple;" title="Libertarianism"><span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">libertarians</span></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> and </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Free_market" style="color: purple;" title="Free market"><span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">free market</span></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> enthusiasts, </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Social_conservatism" style="color: purple;" title="Social conservatism"><span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">social conservatives</span></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;">, </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Feminists" style="color: purple;" title="Feminists"><span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">feminists</span></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> and </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Human_rights" style="color: purple;" title="Human rights"><span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">human rights</span></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> advocates, characterising it as excessively pessimistic, misanthropic or inhuman. </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Malthusianism" style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: "cambria"; font-size: 12pt;">https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Malthusianism</span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<h2 style="break-after: avoid; color: #4f81bd; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 13pt; margin: 10pt 0cm 0.0001pt;">
Bibliography<o:p></o:p></h2>
<div style="font-size: 10pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Michael Moore Presents: Planet of the Humans | Full Documentary | Directed by Jeff Gibbs - </span><a href="https://youtu.be/Zk11vI-7czE" style="color: purple;"><span style="color: #0000e9; font-size: 12pt;">https://youtu.be/MrOcBdnC3kw</span></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-size: 10pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 10pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Michael Moore in a live discussion with Extinction Rebellion co-founder Clare Farrell - </span><a href="https://youtu.be/674qCYOcMXo" style="color: purple;"><b><span style="color: #0000e9; font-size: 12pt;">https://youtu.be/674qCYOcMXo</span></b></a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-size: 10pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 10pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Filmmaker Josh Fox responds to Michael Moore on bombshell climate film - </span><a href="https://youtu.be/iTYJCAxlOgs" style="color: purple;"><span style="color: #0000e3; font-size: 12pt;">https://youtu.be/iTYJCAxlOgs</span></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-size: 10pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 10pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Michael Moore, filmmakers respond to criticism of new bombshell environmental film - </span><a href="https://youtu.be/Bop8x24G_o0" style="color: purple;"><b><span style="color: #0000e9; font-size: 12pt;">https://youtu.be/Bop8x24G_o0</span></b></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-size: 10pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 10pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Planet of the humans: A reheated mess of lazy, old myths - </span><a href="https://ketanjoshi.co/2020/04/24/planet-of-the-humans-a-reheated-mess-of-lazy-old-myths/" style="color: purple;"><span style="color: #0000e9; font-size: 12pt;">https://ketanjoshi.co/2020/04/24/planet-of-the-humans-a-reheated-mess-of-lazy-old-myths/</span></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-size: 10pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 10pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Green Energy Sham? Michael Moore Seems To Think So - </span><a href="https://healthybodyhealthyplanet.blog/2020/05/05/green-energy-sham-michael-moore-seems-to-think-so/?fbclid=IwAR255lI-_zLSwHPhdLEQTgSx0e1PXwdMRLqh--sOnMOmS2IzoJpxdeKTiuU" style="color: purple;"><span style="color: #0000e9; font-size: 12pt;">https://healthybodyhealthyplanet.blog/2020/05/05/green-energy-sham-michael-moore-seems-to-think-so/?fbclid=IwAR255lI-_zLSwHPhdLEQTgSx0e1PXwdMRLqh--sOnMOmS2IzoJpxdeKTiuU</span></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-size: 10pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 10pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">We are in a Planetary Emergency Podcast by Michael Moore: </span><a href="https://youtu.be/joxstIt1Jh4" style="color: purple;"><span style="color: #0000e9; font-size: 12pt;">https://youtu.be/joxstIt1Jh4</span></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-size: 10pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 10pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Planet of the Humans⌠Letâs just have a Think: </span><a href="https://youtu.be/ZmNjLHRAP2U" style="color: purple;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">https://youtu.be/ZmNjLHRAP2U</span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="font-size: 10pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 10pt; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Response: Planet of the Humans Documentary by Bill Mckibben:<b> </b></span><a href="https://350.org/response-planet-of-the-humans-documentary/" style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: "cambria"; font-size: 12pt;">https://350.org/response-planet-of-the-humans-documentary/</span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
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J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-56238533387772483242019-05-28T08:47:00.000-07:002019-05-28T08:47:02.021-07:00Epilogue to a Dream<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Once, you had a dream</span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
And you had a song </div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
That went with the dream</div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
And then the dream died</div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
So sad</div>
</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
Then later, one day</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
You remember that song</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And you think "how will it sound?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Beyond my dream's death?"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And so you listen</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And it's not quite the same</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Obviously</div>
</span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/eimgRedLkkU/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/eimgRedLkkU?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-1139759941327047322019-04-12T03:49:00.000-07:002019-09-11T08:18:20.777-07:00Could a Citizen's Assembly Solve the Israel/Palestine Conflict?<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkWaLrNVBV1icqg3OCTrHXeGEAYaZmsQmn04_Lo82yviGQT_8EmLtaq-_Ua2Hr3gNlMT3Mt2LHd47uKeSkyKNsSN_MbypRY0GORMSZ0HjKcZi-Yl25kK-oaAwfKjkosgL_veD-K6AmLDM/s1600/Israel-Palestine+2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="771" data-original-width="1128" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkWaLrNVBV1icqg3OCTrHXeGEAYaZmsQmn04_Lo82yviGQT_8EmLtaq-_Ua2Hr3gNlMT3Mt2LHd47uKeSkyKNsSN_MbypRY0GORMSZ0HjKcZi-Yl25kK-oaAwfKjkosgL_veD-K6AmLDM/s320/Israel-Palestine+2.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Changing Map of Israel and Palestine</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<h3>
<br />
What is a Citizen's Assembly?</h3>
A Citizen's assembly is a panel of selected members of the
public, who deliberate on a particular subject or issue, and, with the help of
evidence and objective expert testimony, arrive at an informed decision. A
Citizen's assembly can vary in size (anything from a handful of people to an
assembly numbering in the hundreds or even the thousands), and could be formed
to deal with any kind of issue.<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Often a Citizenâs Assembly is called upon as an option
because a subject is regarded as "toxic". This means that elected
officials would have a lot of trouble dealing with this issue effectively, as
controversial decisions that will harm their chances at the next election tend to be
shied away from. One example is the issue of abortion in Ireland: a Citizen's
Assembly was formed to deal with this, and it eventually <a href="https://www.electoral-reform.org.uk/the-irish-abortion-referendum-how-a-citizens-assembly-helped-to-break-years-of-political-deadlock/">recommended a referendum</a>. <o:p></o:p></div>
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In Britain, the environmental pressure group <a href="https://xrebellion.org/">Extinction Rebellion</a> is currently
campaigning for a national Citizen's Assembly to deal with the issue of Climate
Change. There was even a Citizen's Assembly formed to deliberate upon Brexit,
though its recommendations were ignored.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It has been theorised that a Citizen's Assembly that is
called a "Multi-body Sortition" could be used to replace conventional
representative democracy as we know it and run a country.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<h3>
How is a Citizen's Assembly Formed?<o:p></o:p></h3>
<div>
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A Citizen's Assembly is formed by means of a process called
Sortition, which is a kind of random selection method. Think of it as something
not dissimilar to being chosen to do jury duty; or being chosen as a lottery
winner. Your name or you address, or some identifying signification will be
picked out, and you're in the Assembly!<o:p></o:p></div>
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If a Citizen's Assembly runs for a considerable length of
time, or has been formed to deal with more than one subject, its membership is
often "refreshed". Meaning some of its members will leave and other
members will join. But a whole Citizen's Assembly is never completely
refreshed. That is there is never a point where every single member of the
Assembly is replaced all at once - and so in this way, and through the use of
facilitators and subject expert advisors - continuity can be assured.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<h3>
Is this a Revolutionary New Idea?<o:p></o:p></h3>
</div>
<div>
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No, not at all. There were Citizen's Assemblies used in
ancient Greece, and apparently <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kleroterion">they even had a special machine</a> which performed
the function of sortition and selected the people who would form the Citizen's
Assembly.<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYzDfy0G33-1tEzxTUuppzaq7fhZ4n4O5WsNEuZHHqddfNJY-g7ck0jboG7S3gBhaLmW5400f0CwJiEcWgHPWEZp8wn5VGqQahdcIiZiw_ShTPUPQvdH6V4ON9HJm9y9_wOkgeviXkJak/s1600/Untitled2-1a0cfaf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="413" data-original-width="620" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYzDfy0G33-1tEzxTUuppzaq7fhZ4n4O5WsNEuZHHqddfNJY-g7ck0jboG7S3gBhaLmW5400f0CwJiEcWgHPWEZp8wn5VGqQahdcIiZiw_ShTPUPQvdH6V4ON9HJm9y9_wOkgeviXkJak/s320/Untitled2-1a0cfaf.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The
kleroterion - Sortition machine used in Ancient Greece</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<h3>
What are the advantages of a Citizen's Assembly?<o:p></o:p></h3>
</div>
<div>
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Well, <b><i>firstly</i></b> a Citizen's Assembly is
truly representative. This is not the case in our modern conventional
democracy, where only those people on the electoral role get to vote. This
usually means that certain demographics - say those of a young age, or the
homeless, or refugees <span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">(often
referred to as âthe 10% hard to reachâ)</span>, will be under represented, while other demographics -
say, white middle class males - will be over represented.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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A citizen's assembly can ensure that every demographic can
be represented in its proper proportions. Say 5% of your country or region's
population are females of Indonesian origin aged 20 - 30. That means 5% of the
Citizen's Assembly will be composed of that demographic.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Now, you may be asking yourself at this point, "Hold on
a minute, if Sortition is a process of choosing participants entirely at
random, then how could we guarantee a proportion like 5% of the Citizen's
Assembly being composed of females of Indonesian origin aged 20 - 30?"<o:p></o:p></div>
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There is a way! Keep reading!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><i>Secondly</i></b>, it is much less likely that a member of a Citizen's
Assembly will have a conflict of interest. This phenomenon is a stain on modern
parliamentary politics, and often politicians are accused of having a vested
interest in making sure that, say fossil fuel corporations, or certain
pharmaceutical companies will not suffer penalties or even have to pay taxes. A
good example of a conflict of interest is the fact that many British MP's are
also landlords that rent out multiple properties, meaning that it may not be in
their interests to pass laws that improve the rights of tenants. The
aforementioned process of regularly "refreshing" the Assembly members
also helps in this regard, as it prevents the build-up of power and vested
interest.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><i>Thirdly</i></b>, the fact that decisions are evidence based is a
perhaps the biggest advantage. Subject Matter Experts are used as advisers,
though they do not make pronouncements ("Experts on tap - not on
top"), and the findings and recommendations produced by the Citizen's
Assembly are informed and objective evidence based decisions ("Public
Judgement - not public opinion").<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
<br />
<h3>
<o:p></o:p></h3>
<h3>
Random Stratified Sampling<o:p></o:p></h3>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The way we get a truly representative Citizen's Assembly is
through the method of stratification. This "weights" the random
sampling - or Sortition - procedure to ensure that the makeup of the Citizen's
Assembly is truly representative (or to put it another way, this is the way you
make sure that 5% of your Citizen's Assembly is composed of females of Indonesian
origin aged 20 - 30, if that is appropriate).<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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And this is where we come to Israel/Palestine, where the
stratification exercise would be a fascinating challenge.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Let's stratify! <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxifV_WNSRe4C_RZRj8Cajpjw2DdravGXpNu1S5vwqQmmLheT9o0l6xSDrKr4bTZz-h2f8cBBaDhVzWi8BBXe_kSAJLfWJfPVwb9dAOyYlL4WsJ-LTqigGFUmT54rWLFOOsAaCS5S_DAM/s1600/Citizens+Assembly+Process+Map.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="350" data-original-width="910" height="123" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxifV_WNSRe4C_RZRj8Cajpjw2DdravGXpNu1S5vwqQmmLheT9o0l6xSDrKr4bTZz-h2f8cBBaDhVzWi8BBXe_kSAJLfWJfPVwb9dAOyYlL4WsJ-LTqigGFUmT54rWLFOOsAaCS5S_DAM/s320/Citizens+Assembly+Process+Map.PNG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Citizen's
Assembly Process Map</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<h3>
Holy Land Stratification<o:p></o:p></h3>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
First, let's get 50% male, 50%
female.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
Next we go 50% Israeli, 50%
Palestinian.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
Then things start to get thorny -
religious splits. Across the Holy Land we must take the correct proportions of
Jewish, Muslim, and Christian citizens. Then also take the correct proportion
of those of other faiths and of no faith.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
Then things get even more
complicated. For instance on the Palestinian side we must take the correct
proportions of those who live in Gaza and those who live on the West Bank. If
they are Muslim we must take the correct proportions of Sunni and Shia,
Khawarij and other schools of thought. Should we stratify further? In Gaza the
government is Hamas, but there are other factions present there also. Should
they be represented? Same with the West Bank, where Fatah by no means enjoy
blanket support. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
Then we go to Israel, and we
stratify by Ashkenazi, Mizrahi, Sephardic, Orthodox and other strata of the
Jewish population. We must also take the correct proportion of the
Palestinian-Israeli population, before we go to other groups like the Druze.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
And we haven't even started on stratifying
by age groups, income ranges, suburban dwellers versus country dwellers, more
detailed ethnic compositions and so forth.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
By now I'm sure you can see
things are getting involved, and I believe we would need a fairly large
Citizen's Assembly in order to get something like a correct representation of
the various factions and groups that live in this land of trauma.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<h3>
A Question of Experts<o:p></o:p></h3>
</div>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
This poses a potential roadblock
- not because there are no subject matter experts on the issue of Palestine and
Israel: there are many. However what we need are objective experts. Or should I
say, what we need are experts that are perceived to be objective. This is quite
a challenge considering we are talking about the most polarised of subjects.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<h3>
A Question of Settlers<o:p></o:p></h3>
</div>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
The illegal Israeli settlers who
occupy Palestineâs West Bank would be another potential stumbling block. Should they be
represented and given a say in a Citizen's Assembly? This is a problematic issue, since the presence of the settlers is illegal under international law
and they are widely viewed as one of the biggest stumbling blocks in the way
of any kind of peaceful outcome. Also, there is a strong chance that the settlers would not be interested in any kind of treaty that most of the world would view
as just and equitable, due to their absolutist stance.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
Having said that, the point of a Citizen's Assembly is to bring together those who may have seemingly unbridgeable differences, so we should not abandon all hope at the start. And besides, solutions have been proposed that do take the presence of the settlers into account in a constructive manner.<br />
<br /></div>
<h3>
Conclusion: The Need for a New Approach<o:p></o:p></h3>
</div>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
For any of this to go
ahead, we would need to have the political will to search for a peaceful, just solution
to this conflict rooted in a deadly cocktail of quarrels over land, history,
politics and religion. Pushing for a solution does not seem to be in Israel's
interests at present, however, as it is sitting pretty with the backing of
America's government, which grants it such boons as the recognition of
Jerusalem as its capital while asking for nothing in return.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
But ultimately - and even from
the start, going right back to the Balfour Declaration - this conflict is a
testament to how conventional politics has been and is still failing us. We
need fresh approaches to these seemingly intractable dilemmas. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
Otherwise all we can do is carry
on looking the other way while our fellow human beings suffer and perish.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<br /></div>
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</div>
</div>
<br />
<br />
<i>For more information on Citizen's Assemblies and Sortition, please visit <a href="https://www.sortitionfoundation.org/">https://www.sortitionfoundation.org/</a></i><br />
<div>
</div>
J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-31127272853599381862019-03-25T04:18:00.002-07:002019-03-25T04:47:40.696-07:00Breaking #Brexit News! Parliament Votes to Do Something!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
People were cheering in the streets today when, after weeks upon weeks of interminable deadlock broken only by recycled arguments over exactly the same issue, parliament voted to do something with regard to Brexit! The something was agreed by all factions in the debate and received an overwhelming cross party consensus!<br />
<br />
It fell to Prime Minister Theresa May, wearing a smile as wide as the English Channel just at the point where it is widest, to deliver the good news in the House of Commons.<br />
<br />
"Parliament will act now," she declared, "to deliver this vital something for everyone: it will be good for business, good for jobs, good for families and good for future prosperity. It will be good for an economy that is strong and stable.<br />
<br />
"By the way Brexit means Brexit". She managed to hurriedly get in before she sat down. But by then everyone on both sides of the House were standing and hollering and waving bits of paper in approval. Then they checked with each other whether they were actually meant to be waving bits of paper in approval since it was so long since they'd actually approved of anything they'd forgotten what it is they were supposed to do.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikgdHBEBGwQUJ8aYQaVoCdb52gPQixSjaPO5YHezREtYVlTkQj9TfTTszG6VPXLXpXvIQZ61Iq3toC-sCg1A7Me3Oq308rESdcXwJmUD15w5qGcXyK4xntwxUMcprF4c21y1pqMQrAMto/s1600/Theresa+Smiling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="428" data-original-width="624" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikgdHBEBGwQUJ8aYQaVoCdb52gPQixSjaPO5YHezREtYVlTkQj9TfTTszG6VPXLXpXvIQZ61Iq3toC-sCg1A7Me3Oq308rESdcXwJmUD15w5qGcXyK4xntwxUMcprF4c21y1pqMQrAMto/s320/Theresa+Smiling.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh well done Theresa!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It then fell to opposition leader Jeremy Corbyn to endorse the something proposed by Theresa May, which he happily did. "This something that Parliament has approved today, will be for the many," intoned Corbyn dramatically, "and yet at the same time it will also be for the few! It will be for everyone! How about that!"<br />
<br />
This caused more rapturous applause, more waving of bits of paper on both sides of the House, and Chuka Umunna cried like a girl he was so happy.<br />
<br />
Amidst the frivolity Speaker of the House John Bercow could be heard yelling "Order! Order!"<br />
And then he could be heard yelling "Two pints of lager and a packet of crisps please!"<br />
He was standing by the bar you see.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk-W0Di985B695yFXX6Z4bNI-P_2mWurw2-Tmcp2ns02Epi4QH5wZwyzUv68kA9ZdMau1VRkveM8jN7-0vsgZUgs6eX7Gt44X5ucjjRr3mUWqtrnnNLI37vtjaNLJ-BJRWqiiYPkOBARQ/s1600/Jeremy+Corbyn+Smiling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="521" data-original-width="736" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk-W0Di985B695yFXX6Z4bNI-P_2mWurw2-Tmcp2ns02Epi4QH5wZwyzUv68kA9ZdMau1VRkveM8jN7-0vsgZUgs6eX7Gt44X5ucjjRr3mUWqtrnnNLI37vtjaNLJ-BJRWqiiYPkOBARQ/s320/Jeremy+Corbyn+Smiling.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smashing Job Jeremy!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Perhaps the most poignant moment of the day was when arch Brexiteer Jacob Rees-Mogg could be seen sharing a tender hug with hardcore Remainer Anna Soubry.<br />
<br />
That was up until he tried to sneakily cop a feel and was rewarded with a punch in the whatsits for his troubles. But for a moment there, there was real love. And that should be our takeaway from the incident I believe.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow, parliament will reconvene in order to decide what the something they have agreed to do actually is. At which point everything will probably turn to shit. Again.<br />
<br />
But, ya know, for now, how about we just enjoy the moment, eh?<br />
<br />
For once.<br />
<br />
How about we do that?!<br />
<br />
FFS.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-49476212725800464112018-01-26T04:03:00.000-08:002018-01-26T12:50:43.455-08:00A Review of Reza Azlan's "Zealot: The Life and Times of Jesus of Nazareth"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4cnyobrm42l8ntqrbgxyR46YYRNdYsrYhX2vRT55iA7rEwVzUINHgIRU0DBGRGai0hdIwf3dBWsHQQfkTRHi12ayNZ9RDnQRWCKpgRI31mNmAWBgDHCc0vAu7cUV9FXNlc5iyF61bcOY/s1600/06book-1-videoLarge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="507" data-original-width="768" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4cnyobrm42l8ntqrbgxyR46YYRNdYsrYhX2vRT55iA7rEwVzUINHgIRU0DBGRGai0hdIwf3dBWsHQQfkTRHi12ayNZ9RDnQRWCKpgRI31mNmAWBgDHCc0vAu7cUV9FXNlc5iyF61bcOY/s320/06book-1-videoLarge.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
The Life and Times of Jesus of Nazareth is split into three parts:<br />
<br />
<i>Part One</i> deals with the Jewish revolt against the government of Rome in Israel, which was initially successful but came to a horrific conclusion with the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 AD.<br />
<br />
<i>Part Two</i> deals with Jesus of Nazareth: the man, his world and his mission.<br />
<br />
<i>Part Three</i> deals with the legacy that Jesus left behind after his death upon the cross.<br />
<br />
In a way, the book begins by telling the end of the story, which is an account of the legacy that Hebrew zealots, including Jesus left in the minds of their followers and countrymen. It was this legacy that inspired the Jews to rise up against their Roman occupiers and cast them out of Jerusalem in 66 AD. For 4 subsequent years Jerusalem knew "independence", before a vengeful Rome launched a brutal assault on its besieged and now starving population: massacring men, women and children and burning the Temple on the Mount to the ground.<br />
<br />
Those that survived the rout were driven into exile. And in this the survivors of the destruction of Jerusalem shared the fate of Jews throughout Palestine, as Rome enacted collective punishment. And so the diaspora was born.<br />
<br />
But not everyone left: a small population remained around the cities of Jerusalem, Hebron, Jaffa and other major cities, and peasants continued to till the land in the countryside. It was from these peoples that today's Palestinians are descended.<br />
<br />
And thus the seeds were planted that are still bearing their bitter fruit in the Holy Land.<br />
<br />
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
So Who Was Jesus?</h4>
Finding the historical Jesus was no small challenge: all the historical references the author had to go on was a brusque contemporary reference in the chronicles of Flavius - wherein Jesus is mentioned as "the brother of James, called the Messiah". This is indeed brief, but it is also significant: it confirms that, as a claimant to the title of "messiah", Jesus would almost certainly have been crucified for sedition, as this was the standard Roman punishment for this crime during the era of the Empire.<br />
<br />
The other document is what the author refers to as the "Q", and was a collection of the sayings and accounts of Jesus and his ministry. Each Gospel author would have used Q as a basis for what he wrote. Some points in the life of Jesus then (such as his baptism by John and his arrival in glory in Jerusalem) can be taken as more likely to have happened (because all four gospels feature these events, based upon information given in Q) than others (like the full account of Jesus's birth in Bethlehem and any tales of his youth, that only appear in the book of Luke).<br />
<br />
Azlan does not have much time for any of the details of the wondrous virgin birth in the City of David. And he pours scorn on the claim that a Roman census could have lead Mary and Joseph to seek out this place. Which beggars the question why concoct accounts such as these if they are so obviously false?<br />
<br />
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
Fake News</h4>
Well, in the 1st and 2nd century AD, we are told, "historicity" did not mean the same thing as it does today, and chroniclers of these histories would willfully change events and insert convenient new ones, especially when it came to fulfilling prophecies. This was not only not objected to at the time, it was actually expected by contemporary readers. The mindset of the 1st few centuries of what we call <i>Anno Domini</i> was that exact historical details were not important: what was important was the essential truth of what your story propounded (it feels strange to recount this given what goes on with the "fake facts" of today. Perhaps when analyzing the present's view of news and events it is something to take into consideration).<br />
<br />
The conclusion is that it is very likely that the historical Jesus was both born and raised with his brothers and sisters in the tiny hamlet of Nazareth, and that nothing remarkable happened to him before he was inducted into the life of a prophet by his mentor, John the Baptist, by the banks of the River Jordan.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
You Wait Ages for a Messiah and then Ten Turn Up at Once</h4>
<div>
It should be mentioned that Jesus (called "the Nazarene" by his contemporaries, and "Son of Mary" by his detractors) was far from the first claimant to the title of Messiah in Roman Palestine - nor was he the last. For in those tumultuous times the hills were alive, not only with would be Messiahs, self proclaimed kings and insurrectionists - who invariably met a brutal end at the hands of Rome or their Judaic collaborators - it was also bustling with faith healers and magicians who claimed to make the lame walk, the blind see and to cast out demons. That Jesus took the role both of Messiah and magician was something of an oddity.</div>
<br />
It should also be said that the historical Jesus, so Azlan tells us, was very much a family man. The unearthly celestial being of much of the new testament as portrayed by the Paulian epistles, and by Catholic traditions is the figure of Christ, that was born of Mary, who is a perpetual virgin. Azlan has so little time for this view he barely bothers mentioning it, and instead gives us a Jesus with several brothers, sisters and cousins - many of who became his followers.<br />
<br />
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
Who Did Jesus Think He Was?</h4>
One of the thorniest issues - and the most fascinating, as dealt with by Azlanâs work - is how Jesus might have seen himself. Did he think of himself as the Son of God? As portrayed by this book, probably not. In fact Jesus appears to be far more ready to refer to himself as âThe Son of Manâ. But what does that epithet even mean? I will let a reading of the book answer that question; it is personally one of my favourite aspects of this work.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
But there is no doubt about one thing as far as Azlan is concerned - and that is the Zealous outlook of The Nazarene. Whether he was expelling the money lenders in the Temple, preaching the Beatitudes or analyzing the thorny aspect of who the Jews should be paying their taxes to, Jesus applied his zeal; a fiery spiritual nationalism wherein the nation of Israel would be redeemed through the destruction of the existing order, be cleansed of its occupiers and hallowed through its treatment of the poor and the outcasts - who would be raised up to rule in the imminent Kingdom of God.<br />
<br />
Of course it didn't turn out that way, and eventually the Romans and their Jewish collaborators decided they had taken as much provocation as they could bare from this latest self styled Messiah. Jesus was arrested and, with very little ceremony, was sentenced to die upon the cross: the sign above his head, "The King of the Jews" proclaiming to the world why The Nazarene had been sentenced to his fate.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
It should have ended there. Jesus's followers, including his brother James, having witnessed the humiliation of their leader and inspiration, should have melted away and returned to their homes, as one obscure rebel cult leader was consigned to a footnote in history. The mystery of why it did not will probably never be explained, save through the application of faith.<br />
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<br />
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
A New Religion</h4>
So the recounting of the life of Jesus ends, and the story of his legacy begins. And the story of Jesus's legacy starts with a battle. On the one side is his brother James (known to all who knew him as "James the Just" because of his piety and devotion to the Judaic Laws) together with the surviving followers who walked and talked with The Nazarene. On the other hand, the self proclaimed thirteenth apostle, Paul, formerly Saul of Tarsus. Saul was an implacable enemy of the Jesus movement, but after his conversion and adoption of his new identity as Paul, this perhaps original "born again" Christian has a zeal to not only follow Jesus, but to found an entirely new religion in his name.<br />
<br />
It is perhaps the depiction of Paul, that is, arguably, the most controversial aspect of this work. The man who opened the way for the gentiles is not portrayed as a sympathetic character, and instead what we are presented with is an ego driven fanatic desperate to stamp his own mark on the nascent Christianity, at the cost of an almost flagrant disregard of what Jesus actually said and wanted. And yet it is Paul's interpretation of this faith that we are mostly left with, despite his conflicts, and at times his humiliations at the behest of his rivals James and Peter, who were Paul's superiors in the early church whether he liked it or not.<br />
<br />
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
Well Researched</h4>
I read this book on my kindle app (sorry traditional format fans, however I do also still read printed books!) and was somewhat surprised when the book finished while at a status of 50% complete. This gives you an idea of how extensive the footnotes are. Fortunately these end notes actually add to the experience of the book. Here is where Azlan discusses the various theories that underpin his vision of the historical Jesus, which theories by which historians he agrees with, and which ones he disagrees with and why.<br />
<br />
To my mind Zealot: The Life and Times of Jesus of Nazareth is a fascinating read and I would recommend it to anyone, no matter what their faith or lack thereof.<br />
<br />
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J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-16929263898724490142017-05-16T14:37:00.000-07:002017-05-16T14:37:18.151-07:00What's That Coming Over the Hill<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<br />
Lance Bastante had always felt a certain amount of sympathy for his friend from the Kingdom of the Round Tree. Perhaps it was because of the name that his friend had been burdened with: Beosmell Realbad. It's difficult to run out of jokes about a name like that. And yet despite this ever present potential for mockery - or perhaps because of it - they had become like brothers as they went through the Academy together, back in the days when the Kingdom of the Round Tree and the fortress city of Haribo had been allies.<br />
<br />
But things change; alliances break down and enmity rises.<br />
<br />
And then enmity becomes war.<br />
<br />
Things had certainly changed for Beosmell after he had volunteered for the Round Tree Super Weapon project, and was chosen to become a living super weapon. How strong must Beosmell's faith in his kingdom's cause must have been, Bastante asked himself, to surrender his humanity to the victory of that cause? What experiments had been performed upon him by nameless figures, monitoring his transformation in the shadows? What had he seen? What had he suffered? And had it been worth it? Had the mockery been silenced at last?<br />
<br />
All Lance knew was that he would soon see his old friend once more - if from afar. Beosmell would now be at the vanguard of the Round Tree Kingdom's army of conquest, and he would be changed beyond all recognition. Today the kingdom of the Round Tree were ready to unleash the weapon that Lance's friend had become; a weapon they proclaimed would end the war once and for all.<br />
<br />
But little did the scientists and theosophers of Round Tree know that Haribo had already developed an answer: the Unnatural Born Creature Slayer.<br />
<br />
Today then, both sides would discover which super weapon was the more effective. Today the tide of the war would be turned, or all would be lost.<br />
<br />
Bastante looked down at the gun he held in his hands. It was five feet long, and appeared to have been carved from black ivory. The barrel of the gun was covered in intricate designs: faces of mythical creatures and woodland Gods with empty eyes that glared at the soldier who held the weapon, as if testing the resolve of its bearer.<br />
<br />
And how was the resolve of Lance Bastante? Was he ready for this test?<br />
<br />
When the moment of truth came, Lance mused, and he peered at the monster through a scope that was shaped like some preternatural sea serpent, the mouth of which opened out on the forward sight, would he see fear in the eyes of his old friend? Did Beosmell even have eyes any more? Lance couldn't say; he didn't know that level of detail. But if Beosmell had changed beyond all recognition, that should make things easier, he reasoned.<br />
<br />
At the moment of truth.<br />
<br />
A buzz at Bastante's chest interrupted his reverie and he picked up the mobile communicator that was fastened where. "Lieutenant commander Bastante here."<br />
<br />
"Bastante this is Major Osgood," came the voice through the communicator, "Is all still clear?"<br />
<br />
Bastante put aside the weapon and clambered to his feet. He looked over the battlement walls that protected his fortress city, and beheld the no man's land that had become of the surrounding area. He saw smoke that rose from all around, creating a permanent mist that pressed against the perimeter of Haribo and made sighting new attacks difficult at the best of times. He saw an undulating landscape of churned ground that stretched into the hills beyond. He saw abandoned and broken machines; relics of the sieges that had already taken place during the war. Sieges that had ended in victory for the defenders; but only after much blood had been sacrificed on both sides. Elsewhere, in other theatres of battle retreats had turned into routs for Haribo.<br />
<br />
Soon, Bastante knew, there would be another siege of his home city: this would be the last one.<br />
"It's all clear," Bastante informed his superior officer, "for now."<br />
<br />
But even as he was about to replace his communicator, Bastante looked out and saw a dark shape appear on the horizon. Then he saw other shapes: the unmistakable outlines of battering rams, and cannons that reared up into the air on caterpillar tracks and caused minor tremors that could be felt in the battlements even at this distance. The air crackled around the Lieutenant commander, and he heard the distant rumble of thunder. Bastante saw other shapes now, thousands of small, dark shapes were marching towards the city: a siege army. He reopened communications. "Disregard that last report," he told Major Osgood, "and mobilise the city defences. It's begun."<br />
<br />
"Understood," replied the Major. His acknowledgment was free of intonation, though Bastante imagined Osgood's shoulders droop, and his teeth grit as he accepted the inevitability of his Lieutenant commander's update. Then Osgood's voice changed, and he repeated words that had been drilled into them all since childhood. Words that they still believed; despite everything. "Haribo, Haribo, take me back to Haribo," Osgood chanted.<br />
<br />
"Haribo, Haribo, it's the sweetest place I know," responded the lieutenant commander, "Bastante out."<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
**</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
"Wait!" shouted Osgood through the communicator, his voice sounding as if something had just occurred to him.<br />
<br />
Bastante paused. "What is it sir?" he asked. Around him the city defense forces had already begun their deployment as further trembles shook the city and the deep, penetrating rolls of thunder became a constant, pervasive sound in the battlements.<br />
<br />
"It's the weapon," said Osgood with urgency, âYou need to know how to activate it.â<br />
<br />
Bastante's quelled an incredulous chuckle. âI think I know how to activate a gun, sir,â he said with forced patience, âyou just press the trigger and..."<br />
<br />
"No, No," Osgood cut in, âitâs not that simple with the Creature Slayer! This is a super weapon remember; and the reason itâs so powerful is because it draws on the city's main power generators; and it accumulates that power via a wireless signal. But the gunâs wifi must only be activated only when it is needed, otherwise the power drain on the city's reserves would be too great. Especially considering we also have a shield to maintain."<br />
<br />
"Why did nobody tell me this before?" demanded Bastante, his voice rising.<br />
<br />
"They're telling you now!" shot back the Major, "this is highly classified information that is given out on a strictly need to know basis!"<br />
<br />
Bastante closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. The activity around him was becoming increasingly frenetic as the minutes passed, and through the spy holes of the city walls the approaching army began to blur intermittently - a sign that the city's defensive shield that Osgood had mentioned was now in operation.<br />
<br />
Shields. Energy. Power generators.<br />
<br />
"How do I activate the gun?" he asked quietly.<br />
<br />
The Major cleared his throat noisily. âAh yes,â he acknowledged. âThe weapon needs to be activated.â<br />
<br />
Bassinet was mildly annoyed by the Majorâs sudden turn to prevarication. âYes, thatâs what you just told me,â he pointed out, âso how do I do it?â<br />
<br />
âHow do I do it you say?â asked the Major.<br />
<br />
âThat was what I asked,â said Bastante, frowning.<br />
<br />
âI should tell you then,â said the major.<br />
<br />
âIt might help,â Bastante agreed, nonplussed.<br />
<br />
âOkay, then I willâ answered the Major. âTo activate the super weapon,â he declared, âyou would obviously need to callâŚâ<br />
<br />
He paused for a moment, and then blurted out âthe super weapon activation helpline.â<br />
<br />
Bastante looked at his communicator opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish. Eventually he managed âYouâre shitting me.â<br />
<br />
"Don't be impertinent lieutenant commander,â the major blustered.<br />
<br />
"But a helpline? A helpline?!â Bastante ejaculated, "You can't be serious! This is a super weapon not a house insurance claim!â<br />
<br />
"Calm down lieutenant commander," ordered Osgood.<br />
<br />
"I'm sorry," spluttered Bastante as he struggled to master himself, "but I just find it difficult to believe."<br />
<br />
âDo try and be a bit more positive Bastante,â the Major admonished him, âAs it happens I have it on very good authority that they give an excellent service; and their turnaround time is second to none.â<br />
<br />
"Turnaround time?" Bastante asked doubtfully. He thought for a moment. âSo how many queries has this helpline had to turn around..." he swallowed "...concerning super weapons?"<br />
<br />
"Well... " replied the Major, he cleared his throat again, "obviously this would be the first one..."<br />
<br />
Bastante had heard enough. "We're fucked, " he concluded.<br />
<br />
"Look, just call them Bastante," said the Major forcefully, "or perhaps you'd prefer to wait around until your old friend comes calling!"<br />
<br />
"Alright! Alright!" The Lieutenant commander flipped open a cover on his communicator that revealed an alpha numeric pad. "What's the number?" he asked.<br />
<br />
The sound of a heavy sigh came through Bastante's communicator; followed by the ruffling of papers. Then Osgood's voice began to bark out digits. "08754 90862 -"<br />
<br />
"Slow down a bit!" cried the lieutenant.<br />
<br />
"... 222 22222," continued the major at a slower pace, "report back when you have the weapon up and running. Osgood out."<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
**</div>
<br />
Moving slowly and in concert, the great siege engines from the Kingdom of the Round Tree moved into position, forming a great, semi-circular perimeter before the fortified city walls. Attending these engines were thousands of soldiers and operators, and the fulminations produced by the combined movements of man and machine echoed through the city.<br />
<br />
Bastante listened to these fulminations, that formed the background to a series of regularly spaced beeps that issued from his communicator. At the same time he peered out of a spy-hole in the city walls, and through intermittent distortions witnessed the movements of the powerful cannons and numerous enemy. He turned slightly and glanced at Haribo's inactive super weapon; the weapon that needed the super weapon helpline before it could be used.<br />
<br />
Just then a bright musical jingle started to play across communicatorâs speaker; and a cheerful female voice spoke over this music.<br />
<br />
"You've reached the Haribo munitions corp weapons helpline," the voice informed him, "a helpline bought to you by our sponsors, Conflict Outcome Claims Direct Insurance."<br />
<br />
The music stopped and another voice - male, solemn and intense - spoke out: "Dedicated to protecting you and your family. Always."<br />
<br />
Now a rock based track began playing, and the cheerful female voice returned. "All of our operatives are busy at the moment," the voice told Bastante, "but your call is important to us. Please continue to hold."<br />
<br />
The canons outside Haribo's walls began targeting. Coordinates and elevations were called out by operators who looked upon the city walls with a calculated detachment, and decided which points would be punished by fire immediately.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, the voice speaking to Bastante went up a notch and gained a more artificial edge.<br />
<br />
"You are caller number...<br />
"ONE<br />
"... in the queue."<br />
<br />
And with that the guitar driven pop song again superimposed itself on the sounds of impending bombardment. Bastante stroked his temples, trying to ward off the stress and the nascent headache building within him.<br />
<br />
A singer began to warble over the communicator:<br />
<br />
"Brain fried tonight through misuse<br />
Through misuse! Through misuse!<br />
You can't avoid the static abuse<br />
You can't avoid the static abuse!..."<br />
<br />
The Hariban listened unwillingly as question after question flashed through his mind: was one of those canons pointing directly at him right now? How long would the shields hold against these weapons? Why was he still waiting if he was number one in the queue?<br />
<br />
"lieutenant commander?"<br />
<br />
Bastante looked up to see a Haribo soldier standing before him, dressed in the bright red colours of the Haribo military, and carrying a bayonet rifle. "Sir, we've had an update from the advanced spotters operating beyond the city walls," the soldier updated him with urgent tones, "they say there is some kind of creature approaching from a westerly direction.<br />
<br />
"Sir, they say it's something big."<br />
<br />
Over the shoulder of the man who was speaking to him Bastante saw searchlights spring into life against the dark gray sky. His fellow Hariban stepped forward with eyes wide and tinged with fear. "I mean they say it's something really big..."<br />
<br />
There was a pause as the soldier observed the man he was updating, and for the first time noticed Bastante's glassy expression, and the way Bastante was looking through him rather than at him.<br />
<br />
"What are you doing?" he asked.<br />
<br />
"There's a problem with this super weapon," Bastante answered mechanically as he gestured towards the Creature Slayer, "It needs activating; and they've made me call a helpline to do it."<br />
<br />
The soldier mouthed the word 'helpline' in an attempt to assimilate Bastante's statement. He glanced around, his eyes narrowing as he listened. "Where is the music coming from?" he asked.<br />
<br />
"I'm on hold," Bastante replied.<br />
<br />
The soldier regarded him in silence for a few moments. Then he was gone, and Bastante was left cursing helplessly.<br />
<br />
But even as Bastante swore oaths, the music faded somewhat. A loud, youthful male voice forced its way to the foreground. "You're through to Haribo munitions corp weapons helpline," said the new voice,"my name is Brian, how can I help you today?"<br />
<br />
"Hello?" Bastante half shouted, relieved solely by the fact that his call had finally got somewhere.<br />
"Hi there caller sorry to keep you waiting, can I take your name please," said Brian brightly.<br />
<br />
My name, he thought, right yes, my name is: "Lieutenant commander Lance Bastante of the 3rd division west Haribo defensive emplacements."<br />
<br />
A new rumble of thunder broke out, which partially obscured the help desk operatives next words.<br />
"-astic," was what Bastante caught, "is it okay if I call you Lance?"<br />
<br />
"What?" Bastante shouted in confusion. The penny dropped. "Oh; Yes, fine -"<br />
<br />
"So what's the issue Lance?" Brian asked.<br />
<br />
Bastante made an effort to control his inhalations. He could hear voices filtering through from the siege army just outside: barked orders; answering acknowledgements. And he heard the unmistakable whine of automated canon moved into position, and the thud of shells loading up.<br />
<br />
The reason. Yes, the reason. "I have a super weapon," he stated, forming his words carefully to ensure clarity, "and I need to activate it for use."<br />
<br />
"A super weapon! Excellent!" Brian exulted above the din. "you've come through to just the right place!"<br />
<br />
Bastante allowed himself the briefest sensation of hope, tempered by the uncertainty of what activating the super weapon actually entailed.<br />
<br />
"I just need to bring up my super weapon activation screen," the help line operative told him, "if you can just bear with me..."<br />
<br />
Bastante's teeth gritted but he said nothing and waited, trying to ignore the invisible walls of panic that were closing in. Something was coming; something very big-<br />
<br />
"So how are you doing today?" Brian asked chattily.<br />
<br />
"I've got to be honest and say I've done better Brian," a distracted Bastante.<br />
<br />
"Well, that's a shame, but I'm sure this will be the start of a big improvement," Brian assured him.<br />
<br />
"You think?" asked Bastante with a grimace.<br />
<br />
"I'm certain," boomed the help desk operative. "so anyway what are you up to?" Brian asked, "Anything good?"<br />
<br />
At the moment another voice rose above every sound, shot through with fear and urgency. As soon as he heard it, Bastante knew they'd run out of time.<br />
<br />
"Incoming!"<br />
<br />
A shell burst in mid air with a deafening roar, battering the city's shields and rocking the battlement walls. "War!" screamed Bastante.<br />
<br />
More shells burst and he felt the ground move beneath him; cries of pain filled the air, from victims of shockwaves that knocked people over and walls that collapsed on the city's defenders. "War!"<br />
<br />
screamed Bastante again, "This is a war!"<br />
<br />
"Oooh, I don't like the sound of that," observed the helpline analyst with a chuckle, "those things can be pretty dangerous!"<br />
<br />
"Are you for real?" asked Bastante incredulously as he took cover to avoid another rain of debris.<br />
<br />
Instead of reacting to Bastante's question, Brian moved the exchange on. "Okey dokey, super weapon screen is up," he announced, "now, what I need from you is your WIFID number."<br />
<br />
"My... WIFID number?" lieutenant commander repeated uncertainly.<br />
<br />
"WIFID Yes, it stands for 'WiFi Designation'," Brian explained, "have you got the weapon in front of you?"<br />
<br />
"Well, obviously -" Bastante started to say. He was interrupted by a shell that exploded against the shield above him, causing a concussion impact that made his teeth chatter and triggered the sound of exploding windows from locations around the city.<br />
<br />
"Goodness me it's a bit noisy where you are isn't it?" observed Brian brightly.<br />
<br />
"Just a bit," Bastante agreed.<br />
<br />
"Okay," continued the help line analyst, speaking through the sound of defensive batteries being unleashed on the siege army, "The WIFID number should be on the heel of the gun handle. It's a seven digit number prefixed with 'HWD-'."<br />
<br />
Bastante found the digits inscribed into the heel of the gun handle as described, though they weren't easy to read. Squinting, and shouting obove the din of an artillery exchange, he read out the WIFID. "HWD.. 429... is that a 6 or an 8? I think it's a 6... 331..."<br />
<br />
"Fantastic!" said Brian encouragingly. "Now we need to check your wifi is working alright. If you look at the centre at the top of the main barrel, you should see a carved likeness of the Dark God Zogothloth, who is also called Joy's Bane."<br />
<br />
Bastante sighed and looked through the various likenesses incorporated into the elaborate design of the super gun. "I do see a face with eyes that are glowing reddish orange?" he reported.<br />
<br />
"Glowing reddish, yes!" Brian confirmed, "Glowing in a manner similar to the moment Zogothloth arose in triumph from the Netherworld before vanquishing His eternal foe, the Demon Slatternax, He that is named The Soul Compressor."<br />
<br />
"Er... yes," was all Bastante could think of to say.<br />
<br />
"Great, so I'm just downloading the update that will get you up and running," said Brian perkily, "and while we're doing that I'll read out some terms and conditions. Just the legal jargon, nothing to worry about...<br />
<br />
The recital - obscured at times by the bombardment - began. "This super weapon is at the strictly experimental stage, therefore Haribo munitions corp weapons divest themselves from all reponsib..... .. ... ....equences of use. All discussion of this weapon outside the auspices of the Haribo Military, ....bo Munitions Corp, Haribo Weapons Research Division and Haribo Infantry Organisation Hub is strictly forbidden. The designation Unnatural Born Creature Slayer ver 0.8e .. ....right protected by Haribo Munitions Corp and all use thereof is strictly controlled by the Information Processor. For further information on the Information Processor please submit you requests in writing along with a postal delivery CTP slip for 6.75 Haribo sovereigns. This weapon is ineffective outside a range of approximately 20 feet and should only be transported by horse. If after a period not less than 30 days the user is dissati..... with the performance of the Unnatural Born -"<br />
<br />
"Wait a minute," Bastante interrupted him, "what was that part about 20 feet and transportation?"<br />
<br />
"Well, the thing is Lance," the man from the helpline responded earnestly, "this super weapon is a prototype. That means some of those annoying little glitches haven't quite been ironed out yet. As such the range isn't quite what we hoped it would be, and the weapon is given to short circuiting when transported by artificial means." His tone brightened: "But rest assured the tech guys are working like busy bees so in the near future we should have those problems sorted. In the meantime, if you want to give the Creature Slayer a try, all you have to do is pop yourself on horseback, ride to where you want try it out and away you go!"<br />
<br />
Bastante let the communicator fall out of his hand. And as further concussion impacts rocked the fortified city, and the cries of the wounded were only partially drowned out by the constant artillery fire, he let his body droop against the battlements.<br />
<br />
"Are you still there Lance?" the communicator asked insistently from its abandoned position on the floor.<br />
<br />
"Lance?"<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
** </div>
<br />
Ninety minutes later, and further down the battlements, two red clad soldiers employed as lookouts were scanning the landcape around Haribo, and relaying their observations concerning enemy movements and tactical placements. One of them was using a pair of field glasses, while the other used naked line of sight in order to spot potential threats both near and far.<br />
<br />
Suddenly the lookout with the field glasses dropped his instrument and gasped, his face a mask of shock and fear. "what's that?" he called out, pointing.<br />
<br />
The other lookout turned in the direction his colleague was pointing, and he soon adopted a similar terror stricken countenance. "Coming over the hill"! he yelled.<br />
<br />
They heard a voice speak out from behind them, quiet but unyielding. "Is it a monster?"<br />
<br />
They lookouts turned, and in unison replied "Yes!"<br />
<br />
In front of them stood Lance Bastante, clad from head to toe in shining, silver armour. Bastante brandished his fully operational super weapon, that hummed with innate power, and set down his intention. "Saddle up my horse!"<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
** </div>
<br />
It would have been unclear to an observer if the monster had been born, had been created in a laboratory where unnatural experiments had taken place, or forged in the factory of some mad industrialist or necromancer. What would have been beyond doubt was its enormous size - the width of a small city - and its terrifying configuration; looking like a immense arthropod of two toned shade that belched twin palls of thick black smoke from its snout, the nostrils of which sat high upon a ridge which rose to grow into a towering range of mountains that marched down the creature's back. There would also have been no doubt about the way the earth shook when the blade like limbs of the beast crashed down, causing great gouges as big as valleys to be opened in the already churned up land. These crashing steps were accompanied by a mini-earthquake powerful enough to knock a grown man from his feet.<br />
<br />
Explosions blossomed around it; proof that the beast had been observed and targeted. But the weapons of its enemies had no more effect upon the steel like carapace that constituted its hide than gentle summer rainfall.<br />
<br />
From time to time The monster paused in its slow but relentless progress across the battlefield. Then it reared up on its jointed legs. Its jaws gaped, glowing a fierce orange, and it emitted a deafening sound, like a chorus of angels of death that serenaded both Heaven and Hell. Then there was the sound of an explosion, and a boiling jet of magma blasted forth from its mouth to hammer Haribo's weakening shield, and send further shockwaves through the city.<br />
<br />
Every now and then the creature would encounter the tiny, blue figures of dead bodies, body parts or heaps of bodies, lying bereft of life in the tortured landscape: fellow attackers from the Round Tree kingdom that had taken a direct hit from a defensive barrage, or had stepped on a mine, or even succumbed to 'friendly fire'. When this occurred the monster emitted a howl of rage and reared up even higher upon its segmented limbs. And then another jet of deadly magma spewed from its maw to rain further havoc and bloodshed upon Haribo.<br />
<br />
Then the creature encountered something on the battlefield that gave it pause. It discerned the body of a man who was not dressed in the blue uniform of the Kingdom of the Round Tree; and nor was he clad in the red uniform of the city state of Haribo. Instead the man was was dressed with silver armour; though it had ultimately availed him little. Not far from the man lay the body of a horse. It was clear from the saddle that still half lay on the animal's back that the armoured man had been riding it before they fell. Curious.<br />
<br />
And not far away from this discovery, another fallen horse could be seen, dead or dying. And this horse's companion was still very much alive. The rider, also clad in silver armour and silver helmet, knelt beside the stricken animal and stroked its mane, seemingly oblivious to the battle that raged around him. At a certain point armour clad man who still lived must have felt the monster's gaze upon him, for he straightened and slowly, he turned to face the beast.<br />
<br />
The monster looked upon this insignificant human that stoof in its way, and it spoke.<br />
<br />
I KNOW YOU, it said.<br />
<br />
Bastante was amazed to hear that there was still a trace of his old friend inside that voice. And though the monster's voice sounded like a hundred voices speaking together, in tones that were as deep as epochs of cosmic time, and though it seemed like these voices that were deeper than the Universe had been filtered through a strange distortion that made them sound like they were echoing from an adjoining corridor, and that corridor was somewhere in an impenetrable maze; and that maze was lost in some remote alternate dimension of space and time. Still, buried beneath all of that was still the voice of old Beosmell.<br />
<br />
"We were friends, once," Bastante replied, "before the war."<br />
<br />
With that he cast his eyes around the area, careful to disguise his desperation as much as he could. It can't have gone far, he thought. If I can't find it I might as well just kill myself now.<br />
<br />
Finally he saw it, lying in the mud where it had fell when Bastante and his companion had been hit. Barely taking his eyes off the monster, Bastante retrieved his weapon from the churned up ground. <br />
To the monster's vision the object the little human now bore seemed to glisten and coruscate black, and it seemed the human that bore it now cast a shadow, even in this fog ridden environment.<br />
<br />
THAT'S A BIG GUN, it observed.<br />
<br />
"It is," Bastante agreed. He held it up for inspection, feeling its power flow through him as he did so. "The Round Tree Kingdom has its super weapon," he told the creature, "and this is ours."<br />
<br />
He checked the WiFi connection again. He was good to go.<br />
<br />
"Meet the Unnatural Born Creature Slayer", Bastante declared. With a flourish he pointed the gun at the beast. "It kills monsters," he said meaningfully.<br />
<br />
The towering arthropod did not respond for a long moment. It stood, silent and unmoving before its challenger; great gouts of black smoke billowed from its nostrils and rose to paint the featureless sky a darker grey. When it did speak, its weird, cavernous, echoing multi-stranded voice was instilled with a tone of finality.<br />
<br />
IT WON'T WORK.<br />
<br />
Bastante was undeterred. "I think it will," he countered, his defiance enlivened him with a furious will to believe his own words, "in fact", and at this point his faith became a rapture, "I'm willing to bet my life on it."<br />
<br />
The monster lifted one of its great jointed limbs to take a small step towards its diminutive opponent. when the limb descended and shook the Earth, it took all of Bastante's tenacity to somehow drop to his knees but retain his balance, and keep his super weapon pointed at its target. The monster spoke again, and this time its fathomless, other worldy, pan dimensional utterance was instilled with a casual shrug.<br />
<br />
SUITE YOURSELF.<br />
<br />
Bastante peered at the monster through the scope shaped like a sea serpent - though it was superfluous at this range - and reflected that it turned out his old friend turned out not to have eyes after all; at least not in the conventional sense. And that did make things easier now they had arrived at the ultimate moment. At the moment of truth. The creature lifted its leg to take another step forward. Bastante's finger tightened on the trigger. "You shouldn't have come back, Beosmell," he called out.<br />
<br />
The monster froze, and withdrew its leg. Bastante hesitated.<br />
<br />
NOT BEOSMELL, the beast declared, NOT ANY MORE.<br />
<br />
Bastante grimaced. "Well... " he conceded awkwardly, "maybe you aren't. But once - before whatever they did to you happened to you - once you were a man, and you went by a man's name -"<br />
<br />
I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT, the monster corrected him, I STILL HAVE A MAN'S NAME, IT'S JUST THAT NAME ISN'T BEOSMELL. I HAD IT CHANGED BY DEED POLL.<br />
<br />
Bastante tightened his finger on the trigger and prepared to fire. The moment was here at last. The moment of tru-<br />
<br />
He loosened his grip. It was no good, he had to ask. "So..." he found himself saying, "what are you called now then?"<br />
<br />
BEOWULF, said Beowulf, BEOWULF'S MY NAME NOWADAYS.<br />
<br />
"Beowulf," Bastante repeated, blinking.<br />
<br />
THAT'S RIGHT, BEOWULF, agreed the monster. BEOSMELL REALBAD WAS AN EMBARRASSING NAME, it vociferated disparagingly, BUT BEOWULF REALBAD SOUNDS GANGSTA.<br />
<br />
"... Oh," was all Bastante could say in reply. His thoughts, however, were not so circumspect.<br />
<br />
'Beowulf Realbad really is a pretty bad ass name', a voice in his head reasoned, 'nothing wrong in admitting that. When you've got a point you've got a point-'<br />
<br />
He shook his head vigorously. What am I thinking??!!<br />
<br />
ACTUALLY, the monster began. Then it fell quiet.<br />
<br />
Bastante concentrated on the sounds of battle all around them. He wanted to nourish the fury that demanded a final reckoning, here and now. After all, were they not in the final battle? Was this not the last siege? He looked down at his gun, upon which all their hopes of survival rested, lying heavy in his grasp. Actually what? He thought wildly.<br />
<br />
THAT'S INTERESTING, the monster continued.<br />
<br />
"What is?" Bastante asked, responding before the advice of all his instincts got a say in the matter.<br />
<br />
CALL ME BEOSMELL, monster advised him.<br />
<br />
"I... what?" spluttered Bastante. He looked round with an expression like a hunted animal. When were they going to get back to the moment of truth?<br />
<br />
GO ON, the monster urged, SAY 'HELLO BEOSMELL'.<br />
<br />
The soldier of Haribo held his forehead in his hand, trying and failing to still the torment in his thoughts. Perhaps the moment of truth would come after this bit? "'Hello Beosmell'," Bastante recited flatly.<br />
<br />
AH! exclaimed the giant arthropod. It paused again, perhaps for effect, and then said I COULD SUE YOU FOR THAT.<br />
<br />
"You could... sue me?" Bastante asked.<br />
<br />
What am I doing? he reproached himself. He thought ferociously of the city, under bombardment. The fear of the people. Their suffering.<br />
<br />
He thought of his family. He thought of Mary...<br />
<br />
Was she alive? Was she safe?<br />
<br />
They had to end this. They had to end this now.<br />
<br />
YES, the monster was saying, I CAN SUE YOU IF YOU INSULT ME OR NAME ME INCORRECTLY. IT'S ONE OF THE CONDITIONS OF THE DEED POLL. FUNNY THAT.<br />
<br />
Bastante brandished the Unnatural Born Creature Slayer and roared in frustration. "Shut up and fight you big ugly bastard!" he yelled hysterically. "One of us is going to die!"<br />
<br />
Instantly the beast reared up on it's joined legs and pointed the entirety of its mammoth hulk towards the minuscule figure of the soldier from Haribo. DO YOUR WORST! it challenged him.<br />
<br />
Bastante pressed the trigger.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
**</div>
<br />
So this was what it felt like. Not to experience the storm; not to witness its destruction - but to be the storm itself, and to personify its destruction.<br />
<br />
Bastante's foe was enveloped in a tsunami of white hot, destructive energy as the all the power of Haribo was channeled through Bastante. And for a moment it was as if all the electricity of the Earth was channeled through the deadly super weapon that was brought to murderous life with a touch of a trigger. And suddenly it was the monster that was insignificant target, suddenly it was the monster that was the victim of a storm that came down upon it like a sledgehammer crashing down upon a nat. Bastante felt power surge through him, power from the heart, from the soul of his city, his home. And for one dizzying instant he was ascendant; he was transmogrified; he was the alpha and the omega; he was the alternating and the direct current; he was the be all and end all.<br />
<br />
Through the triumph, through the intoxication, Bastante dimly wondered if this was how the Dark God Zogothloth must have felt when, in time immemorial, He arose in triumph from the Netherworld.<br />
<br />
Then the Creature Slayer spluttered and died, and the light faded away, and the thunder was reduced to a murmur. The monotonous sounds of the bombardment and its answering defensive fire reasserted themselves.<br />
<br />
And standing before Bastante - towering above him, wreathed in smoke and clouds, but unharmed - the monster looked down imperiously.<br />
<br />
THAT TICKLED, it said.<br />
<br />
And Bastante knew all was lost.<br />
<br />
A crushing feeling of utter defeat quickly gave way to overwhelming anger, as the hapless lieutenant commander vented his morbid frustration on his not so super weapon that had flattered to deceive.<br />
<br />
"This is so bloody typical!" he opined as he sank to his knees, "I said we were fucked!"<br />
<br />
He saw the devastation around him. And what previously had spurred him on to frantic action now showed him how inevitable his defeat was, and always had been. "I rode out here; I got people and animals killed, and for what?" He raised the spent weapon over his head awkwardly. "For you you useless piece of ill made crap!" with that he attempted to hurl the Creature Slayer away, but it was too unwieldy and instead he lost his balance, fell forwards and ended up on lying in his face on the mud.<br />
<br />
Pathetically, pointlessly, Bastante staggered to his feet, turned and ran for his life. As he ran, he could feel its invisible eyes on him.<br />
<br />
Would it bother giving chase, he wondered, or would it dissolve him with a jet of magma - literally burning him in hell.<br />
<br />
It did not take long for him to get his answer, as the monster stamped its one of its huge forelimbs, causing the ground to disappear from under him, and Bastante again fell on his face. But this time he lay still.<br />
<br />
Then creature was directly above him, and it raised its jointed limb to hover over the prostrate soldier from Haribo; a limb coated in chitin as hard as steel that culminated in a blunt, rounded point, like a gigantic pile-driver.<br />
<br />
ANYTHING ELSE TO SAY? asked the monster.<br />
<br />
Bastante did not reply.<br />
<br />
WELL I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT I TAKE NO PLEASURE IN THIS, Beowulf pointed out.<br />
<br />
"Just do it," Bastante said quietly.<br />
<br />
He shut his eyes, and then he screwed them up tightly, and an image of Mary skipped through his consciousness. "Haribo, Haribo", Bastante whispered, "the sweetest place..."<br />
<br />
Time stood still.<br />
<br />
Through the self induced darkness, Bastante's life played itself out. Not much overall, but it was all there was.<br />
<br />
In the distance he heard sounds.<br />
<br />
More gunfire?<br />
<br />
No, it was something else...<br />
<br />
He concentrated hard, to try and identify what he could hear, and tried not to think of anything else.<br />
Slowly, the sounds clarified.<br />
<br />
It was the sound of people...<br />
<br />
Of people cheering?<br />
<br />
It crossed his mind that it had happened; that he was already dead. Then he heard a man's voice, calling. Was he calling to them?<br />
<br />
"The war's over!" cried the voice, "A peace deal has been brokered! You can stop fighting!"<br />
<br />
WELL, said Beowulf. The monster's limb crashed down to the Earth, leaving Bastante unharmed. THAT'S HANDY.<br />
<br />
Bastante opened his eyes, and just lay there for moment, listening to the sounds of joy. He realised Beowulf was probably doing the same thing. It had been a long time since those sounds had been heard in anyone's life.<br />
<br />
Slowly, Bastante climbed to his feet. He looked around the erstwhile battlefield, where soldiers danced, threw their arms up in the air, played football or prayed for their fallen comrades. The city gates had already been opened, and former enemies greeted each other and embraced.<br />
<br />
"What were we fighting for, remind me?" Bastante requested.<br />
<br />
I CAN'T REMEMBER SPECIFICALLY, Beowulf answered, THOUGH I DO REMEMBER BECOMING VERY ANGRY ABOUT SOMETHING I WAS TOLD, WHICH WAS ALL THE FAULT OF HARIBO; SO THEY SAID.<br />
<br />
"Hmm," Bastante murmured. He tried to remember what it was that had made him offer up his life minutes earlier. He was sure it would come back to him.<br />
<br />
SO, WHAT WILL YOU DO NOW? asked Beowulf.<br />
<br />
"Me? I'll go home," said Bastante, "to Mary. How about you, Beosme - Beowulf? What are your plans? Are you still with Rose?"<br />
<br />
I WAS, Beowulf answered sadly, BUT SHE'S GONE OFF ME A BIT LATELY.<br />
<br />
"Ah," Bastante acknowledged the monster awkwardly, "sorry about that." He thought for a moment, then asked, "Say, you're not stuck as a monster are you? I mean, can you change back to human if you want to?"<br />
<br />
I'M TOLD THERE IS A WAY, Beowulf replied with a hesitant tone, BUT IT'S NOT ONE I'M KEEN TO TRY.<br />
<br />
"Oh." Bastante decided not to inquire further into whatever 'way' the transformed subject of Round Tree was referring to, and instead offered his farewells. "Well, good luck Beowulf. I hope things work out."<br />
<br />
ALL THE BEST LANCE, Beowulf replied, I'M GLAD I DIDN'T HAVE TO KILL YOU.<br />
"That makes two of us."<br />
<br />
The soldiers parted company, one to return to home and family, the other to a less certain fate.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
** </div>
<br />
It was night, and the monster stood alone in the wastelands, straddling a river that wended its way aimlessly across the empty hills and valleys. At its feet was a tiny particle, an object of almost microscopic size compared to the gigantic arthropod. But this object spoke to the creature. It spoke with cheerful tones.<br />
<br />
"Tired of being an indestructible monster now are we sir? Is that why you've come through to the new amalgamated Haribo and Round Tree Super Weapon Helpline?" the voice through the telephone asked brightly.<br />
<br />
WELL, answered Beowulf wearily, THERE DOESN'T SEEM TO BE MUCH POINT IN BEING ONE, NOW THE WAR'S OVER BRIAN.<br />
<br />
"No?" mused the helpline assistant. "Well, I suppose you could go rampaging through a city," he suggested, "and catch your reflection in the windows of a skyscraper which would send you into an even more incandescent rage," he chuckled, "Just my little joke Beowulf. You don't mind if I call you Beowulf do you?<br />
<br />
"Now, before we get you back to being an everyday chap I'm going to need your TEELIN."<br />
<br />
MY... TEELIN? said Beowulf uncertainly.<br />
<br />
"Yes TEELIN, that stands for 'Transmuted Life form Identity Number'", explained Brian, "now, the way to locate that is by looking at the underside of your hind limb which is reverse articulated."<br />
<br />
REVERSE ARTICULATED! exclaimed the Round Tree super weapon in mild panic.<br />
<br />
"Yeah," confirmed Brian with a chuckle, "that means you can bend your leg backwards mate, how cool is that!"<br />
<br />
ER...<br />
<br />
"So," Brian summarised, "all you need to do now, is find a way of twisting your torso round 180 degrees, then you bend your leg backwards and duck down, have a look, and there's your TEELIN reference. Simples!"<br />
<br />
A great pall of black smoke from Beowulf's nostrils as he considered his predicament.<br />
<br />
SHIT.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-78989226305508546462016-11-30T07:24:00.000-08:002016-12-04T16:42:39.584-08:00Le Voyageur<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
The first glimmer of awareness caused him to flex and wriggle his fingers. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and for a moment he thought his world had turned blue. He realised he was lying on his back, looking up at the sky. Following on from this realization, the next challenge he faced would be to sit up - and that would not be straightforward - he was wearing a spacesuit. When the size of this challenge sank in he was not inclined to do anything for a while, and he lay on his back looking upwards, with a feeling that he was floating through the depths of an endless cerulean Universe. A feeling of peacefulness descended. Eventually, however, this feeling faded away, and was replaced by the urge to survive, and to move on, and to discover. He had always been this way.<br />
<br />
And so he began to rock backwards and forwards. As he did this he began to pick up momentum until he rocked himself to his feet. Following this he stumbled and swayed a couple of times as he almost over compensated and threatened to send himself back to square one. But eventually he felt his feet lodge themselves on the surface of whatever country he now stood upon, and he was able to take in his surroundings for the first time.<br />
<br />
He stood upon a sandy landscape that stretched for miles around, and rippled like the ocean on a calm day, and was pockmarked with stones and boulders. A light breeze pushed against the fabric of his spacesuit, and on the horizon he could make out the shapes of hills and mountains that could not be discerned with real clarity, but instead appeared but as shadows; thus giving the impression that they were almost not really there, and that however much one tried to approach them these ephemeral peaks would never get any nearer.<br />
<br />
But there was a feature of this landscape that appeared as very real. Without thinking he took a step towards it; and everything changed.<br />
<br />
The deep blue sky disappeared as day turned to dusk; and he saw that above him the unsleeping stars and a crescent Moon shone forth. The stars and the moon highlighted two huge structures that he now looked towards, and the sudden change in the state of the world made them stand out even more starkly now against their impalpable background. It was difficult to make out whether he was looking at a pair of huge sculptures or two towers that had been worn away and shaped by the wind and erosion of centuries upon centuries, until they looked like the figures of people.<br />
<br />
He walked towards them, and he found that the motion of his gait was smooth, swift and effortless; and it felt strangely like he was skating across the rippling sand towards the buildings or statues that grew in stature and size, and in doing so became more ominous as the moments passed. He quickly discovered that he did not have to think about the strange nature of his motion, but instead could give his attention to the structures that he approached, and the sounds that began to reach his ears.<br />
<br />
If one were to take it that they were sculptures of people, then the people that these statues had been modeled upon had been bowed by troubles or toils, or the deep thoughts that they pondered, or perhaps a combination of all three. The figure on the left was perhaps the shorter of the two, and its figure was pockmarked with oblong openings that may have served as huge portals or windows in a castle. The figure on the right was slimmer, and its back was smoothly curved, and next to it was situated a ruined archway. Both figures cast long shadows, and both of them looked downwards - perhaps at the same spot - and vegetation grew about them and from them, and about their heads birds were flying.<br />
<br />
At the same time he took in these details he could hear the wind blowing, though it sounded stronger than it felt to his encapsulated body. And voices could also be heard, that echoed in his consciousness. He could not quite make out the words that were spoken, but he had an impression that they had to be very profound.<br />
<br />
He saw two people - real people - up ahead.<br />
<br />
There was a man standing next to small boy who he took to be the man's son. With one hand the man held the boy's hand, with the other he waved and gestured towards the structures that drew ever closer. The man's lips were moving and, as he passed them, he wondered whether what the man was saying formed part of the echoing dialogue that took place in his ears and in his mind. It was difficult to tell. The traveler moved on.<br />
<br />
Now he was beneath the structures themselves. Despite the limitations placed upon his movement by the spacesuit, he managed to briefly look upwards. From this position the faces of the figures looking down upon him were like oval voids of opaque darkness in the twilight, and were framed by the constellations that twinkled in the firmament.<br />
<br />
He heard a ringing sound.<br />
<br />
The sound was coming from the tower to his right, as he approached the two sculptures. He noticed both towers had doorways, and he moved towards the doorway from which the sound emanated. The ringing he heard was truncated and regular, and it struck him as both anachronistic - because it was so out of place in this strange world - and old fashioned, because it was the sound of a technology that was long outdated.<br />
<br />
He entered the structure and saw that it was a bare, vaguely rounded enclosure featuring a spiral staircase that climbed the walls and disappeared into the darkness above. The only other feature inside the structure was a desk; and upon this desk there sat a ringing, antique telephone. Except it was not quite a telephone: because instead of a receiver, it had a lobster.<br />
<br />
He looked at it, ringing, and resisted the urge to pick up the lobster and position the crustacean over his ear.<br />
<br />
Who would do this? He wondered to himself; who would replace the receiver of a telephone with a lobster?<br />
<br />
But there was someone. Yes, he realised - there was a man who would do such a thing ...<br />
<br />
And then he had passed through the building, or sculpture, and out the other side; past ancient stone pillars steeped in greenery, and on to the wide expanse beyond.<br />
<br />
The ringing faded, and a new sound reached him - it was the sound of singing. The voice he heard was pure, almost angelic, and he shivered inside his spacesuit when he considered what this might imply.<br />
<br />
In the distance, he saw what looked like a young woman dancing in the twilight, and he realised it was she whose voice he could hear.<br />
<br />
One part of him wanted to approach the woman and speak to her. But he did not, because the way she moved disturbed him, as did the sound of her voice, and her ephemeral substance which was like the hills and mountains behind her. It was with relief that he spotted another object out into the plains, and he made for that instead.<br />
<br />
As he drew nearer to it, he saw this new object was a stripey red, purple and white deckchair for the seaside that faced away from the two huge structures shaped like people. He also saw it was occupied. When he reached the chair he found himself looking down at a middle-aged man who wore a loose fitting suit, and brandished a cane that he held upright on the sandy ground. He had black hair that was slicked back, but by far his most distinctive feature was his moustache, that stretched out on either side of his nose and ended in long, tapered points.<br />
<br />
"Senor Dali," he whispered in disbelief.<br />
Dali looked up and smiled. "Exactement!" he exclaimed. "And you are?"<br />
"A traveler," Said the traveler.<br />
"Ah, good!" Dali boomed with an approving nod. He did not seem to require any further explanation.<br />
"This appears to be your world," the traveler observed.<br />
"Yes!" agreed Dali, "Amazing is not it?"<br />
"It certainly is," Said the traveler, "absolutely incredible, though I have no idea how I got here."<br />
"Where were you before you got here?" Dali asked.<br />
This question made the traveler stagger and raise his hand to his helmet, as the question from the surrealist triggered a flood of memories that threatened to saturate his mind. "I was traveling in space ..." he managed to say.<br />
"You're a spaceman!" Dali exclaimed in wonder.<br />
"I passed beyond the limits of the solar system;" the astronaut recalled, "the first human being to do so. But not long after I left the Heliopause behind my instruments picked up signals from a black hole. It had never been discovered, and by the time I knew it was there it was already too late. I remember being stretched and crushed and agony beyond anything I could imagine. I thought the end had come. And then I found myself here. "<br />
He looked around the world of the man that sat in the deck chair before him. "It's feels so strange to recall where I was before now I'm here ..."<br />
"The Persistence of Memory," Dali remarked.<br />
"Ha! Yes," the traveler agreed with rueful nod.<br />
They fell into a comfortable silence, and listened to the voices that whispered upon the wind.<br />
"So," Dali said eventually, "this is your purgatory, do you think?"<br />
"I guess it could be," mused the traveler, "Either that or they found a way to get me out of there, and this is some kind of coma dream."<br />
"Or perhaps you fell into the black hole," offered Dali, "And while we speak your body is hovering at the event horizon of a singularity as the laws of physics and nature break down around you. And there you will stay; trapped in the moment of transition between life and death, until the end of time."<br />
"I do not think I like the sound of that," said the astronaut unhappily.<br />
"Gah!" Dali exclaimed with a careless wave, "You are an explorer - embrace it!"<br />
"That's easier said than do -" the traveler began.<br />
Without warning the ground shook; and Salvador Dali and clapped his hands with joy. "<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">ÂĄ</span>Los elefantes bonitos!" he called out, "My beautiful pachyderms!"<br />
<br />
From out of nowhere a herd of huge creatures had appeared right before the two observers: a parade of gigantic elephants with impossibly long and spindly legs above which pale, floating obelisks stretched into the starlit sky. The multi-jointed limbs of the impossible animals lifted and dropped, propelling their great loads forward and causing mini-earthquakes when they crashed back to earth.<br />
<br />
The traveler would have marveled and expressed joy at the appearance of another of Dali's creations that suddenly filled the expansive plain they looked out into, were it not for the fact that one of the elephants loomed above them, and he realised they were directly in its path.<br />
<br />
"Shouldn't... er, shouldn't..." the astronaut stammered, trying to suppress the sudden panic that assailed him, "Shouldn't we think about getting out of the way?"<br />
"Gah!" Dali exclaimed again dismissively above the din of the herd, "We are perfectly safe. They will not harm us!"<br />
"They- they won't?" asked the traveler uncertainly.<br />
"Actually I don't know," Dali chortled, "I sincerely hope not!" With that he burst out laughing, and then the monstrous pachyderm was upon them.<br />
As they saw its massive foot descend towards them like an Imperial Walker, the astronaut shut his eyes tightly and mumbled to himself, "I wish I'd been an IT consultant ..."<br />
And then his voice was drowned out by a series of fresh earthquakes, and the earsplitting trumpeting of the creatures as they communicated with one another.<br />
<br />
For a few seconds his world was filled with darkness and noise and fear as his eyes remained shut tight, and he again waited for his end to come, and he whispered his invocations for a more mundane career.<br />
<br />
It took a further few seconds to register that the sounds had faded somewhat.<br />
<br />
The astronaut opened an eye. Then he opened the other. He turned to see the elephant that had walked over them already receding, its great spindly legs carrying the creature and its towering, levitating obelisk away from them in an ungainly but swift gait.<br />
<br />
"See, what did I tell you?" laughed the surrealist. "That's a relief!"<br />
"Well ..." Said the traveler, collecting himself, "I think I might go and see what's inside your other tower over there."<br />
Dali approved of this idea. "The Archaeological Reminiscence? Yes, you should look! Go! Go and explore!"<br />
The traveler nodded. "I will take my leave of you then," he said, "It was great to meet you, Senor Dali."<br />
"Igualmente," replied the master fondly, "Fare thee well, spaceman."<br />
"Thank you," said the traveler.<br />
<br />
<span class="">He turned back and made his way towards the human like structures that he now knew to be huge recreations of one of Dali's most famous artworks, his motion as he traveled still smooth and curiously dreamlike. </span><span class="">He headed towards the slightly shorter and more "chunky" of the two figures. </span>Inside the other structure he had found the lobster telephone. What would be in this one?<br />
<br />
His answer came initially in the form of the sound of music. <span class="">This was not part of the curious background noise he had encountered in this world, and it was not like the hypnotic singing of the dancing woman that had so haunted him. </span><span class="">He realised as he drew close that this was another unexpected anachronism. </span>It was psychedelic rock and roll!<br />
<br />
<span class="">The traveler entered the second structure, and again found himself in a roughly circular chamber that enclosed the the cavernous interior. </span><span class="">Upon his entry the volume of the music increased: harmonizing electric guitars with sitars over which a Lennon-like voice was warbling imprecations of love and peace. </span>He saw a translucent man whose entire being was a kaleidoscope of colours like a rainbow. The translucent man was dressed like a 1960s dropout, sitting cross legged and rotating slowly in midair. When the man saw the traveler his face lit up. "Hey dude," he called out, "are you an astronaut?"<br />
"I am," replied the astronaut.<br />
"That's totally fab!" exclaimed the hippy with glee, "How did you get here?"<br />
"Fell into a black hole," Said the astronaut.<br />
The hippy hooted and slapped his thigh. "That's the freakiest thing I've ever heard!"<br />
"How about you? How did you get here?" the traveler asked.<br />
"By a not so dangerous route," laughed the hippy "We were meditating with our guru in Nepal, ya know, and I took something to help me open my mind out a bit? One minute I'm sitting on a mountainside surrounded by yaks, and the next thing I know I'm here! It just blows my mind, man!<br />
"But still," the hippy concluded wistfully, "I wish I'd been an astronaut ..."<br />
"We both ended up in the same place," the astronaut pointed out.<br />
"Hey yeah, that's true!" the hippy acknowledged joyfully, "Just think, the drugs do work after all!"<br />
"They certainly do."<br />
The traveler leaned back so he could view the winding staircase that climbed up to the structure. "Well," he announced vaguely, "I guess I'll walk up there and take a look at the sky ..."<br />
"Great idea!" the hippy enthused, "Say hello to Lucy for me!"<br />
"I will."<br />
<br />
He began to ascend the stairs, and as he did so, the psychedelic sounds that accompanied his encounter with the sixties dropout faded, and the unworldy sounds of Dali's dreams reasserted themselves. As he climbed higher he found he could look upwards, seemingly unhampered by his spacesuit, and as the summit of the structure grew smoothly and inexorably closer, he felt like a phoenix, rising from the ashes; or like Lazarous.<br />
<br />
Finally he stood on a platform that was formed from the shoulder of the giant. Above him the sky brightened and dimmed, and the moon and stars rose and set in the space of a few minutes. Across the wide open spaces of the plane below him he could see the long shadows cast by Millet's Angelus that mingled with the shadows of Dali's elephants, which marched to their mysterious destination and trumpeted to each other. And the voice of Dali himself whispered in the ear of the astronaut with words that veered in and out of definition. "Live, in one dream ..."<br />
<br />
He found himself thinking of his family, and feelings of warmth and love overwhelmed him.<br />
<br />
And then he heard another, faint voice, so distant it could have traveled across the Universe. It was filled with static and interference, and it broke through into his perception as if leaking through a hole in reality.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>Ground control to Major Tom</i></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>Your circuit's dead, there's something wrong</i></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>Can you hear me, Major Tom?</i></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>Can you hear me, Major Tom?</i></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>Can you hear me, Major Tom ...</i></div>
</div>
<br />
And he closed his eyes. "Yes, I can hear you, Ground Control," he whispered in reply, "And I hope you will hear me, in times to come". He smiled faintly, "if memory persists ...<br />
<br />
"This is Major Tom, signing out."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Dedicated to Dali and Bowie, all the dream weavers that inspired them, and all those they will inspire.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And for Don<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
"Dreams of Dali 360<sup>o</sup>": <a href="https://youtu.be/F1eLeIocAcU">https://youtu.be/F1eLeIocAcU</a></div>
</div>
</div>
J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-30444240905591699672016-09-18T05:02:00.000-07:002016-09-19T04:54:07.983-07:00I Always Feel Like<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1T3DNbtDahLADjObNG-2ynUnUarL-SQHp16XpRHchfw5kFoxJoNOh4AKh3fR0jHexb-dfeMr5SNHyaD7C-GVsmvRKiNMPXd7iPobshnpMrd93-zZG0fGvV8iUiw5SeWvRrfBtsgVIc34/s1600/Ingushetia-Watch-Towers-Russia-History-snow-covered-mountain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1T3DNbtDahLADjObNG-2ynUnUarL-SQHp16XpRHchfw5kFoxJoNOh4AKh3fR0jHexb-dfeMr5SNHyaD7C-GVsmvRKiNMPXd7iPobshnpMrd93-zZG0fGvV8iUiw5SeWvRrfBtsgVIc34/s320/Ingushetia-Watch-Towers-Russia-History-snow-covered-mountain.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
I raised my eyes to the
sky, which was grey and forbidding. And yet, as I lowered them again, I
could still see for many miles. For my vantage point was the courtyard of a
temple that sat atop a mountain. In the distance I could hear the ominous clanging
of a bell; a sound that vibrated through the mountain and thus vibrated through
me. The sound, to my senses, felt as far away as the furthest ocean, but deeper
than the roots of the lofty peaks that surrounded me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
In front of me there stood a tall priest who wore
elaborate, ceremonial robes. His bald head reflected the morbid skies, and in
his hand he held a mighty staff. âAsk your question,â he commanded me. âAsk of
me the thing that you have travelled so far to discover.â<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I inhaled slowly, and asked the question. âWho
Watches the Watchers?â<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
In reply, the priest swung his staff around and
pointed towards another temple that also sat atop a mountain far away. âThey
do!â he declared, âIt is they who indeed Watch the Watchers!â<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
âAnd who Watches them?â I demanded to know.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
âThey do!â the priest answered me. As he spoke there
was another clap of thunder, and he moved his staff to point at another Temple
that was adjacent to the first. âThey are <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Watchers who watch the
Watchers Watching the Watchers!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
âBut perhaps you wish to see more?â he asked me,
âThen look at them!â he commanded, and a chime boomed out, making my teeth
chatter. He pointed at another temple far away which rested upon another
mountain top. âAt that place live the
Watchers who observe the Watchers who watch the Watchers Watching the Watchers!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
âBut there is still more!â the priest proclaimed, and
pointed to yet another temple on yet another distant mountain top, as the wind
howled like a banshee with a megaphone. âFor living in this place we will find
the Watchers who scrutinize the Watchers observing the Watchers who watch the
Watchers Watching the Watchers!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
âAnd there is us,â the Priest concluded, âwe who live
here, for we are the Watchers who have our eyes upon the Watchers scrutinizing
the Watchers who observe the Watchers Watching the Watchers that watch the
Watchers!â<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
And now, finally, I had come to the moment when I
would ask my main question. And so I drew myself up as best I could and offered
a challenge to the tall Holy Man who barred my path. âAnd who watches you?â I
said, my voice bordering on accusation. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
There was a silence then. The weather and the gong
grew still. It was a silence that I felt in my very soul; it was a silence that
muted angels and demons, held the planets in their place and halted the
movements of the Galaxies. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 36pt;">
And
then the priest pointed his staff at a new location. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
âThey do!â he revealed. And at his proclamation the
Universe came to life again, the gong gonged and the lightening thundered. He
pointed out another temple now, much nearer, the existence and sight of which I
had hitherto somehow not been aware. âFor it is they,â he continued, âwho
Witness the Watchers that have their eyes upon the Watchers scrutinizing the
Watchers who observe the Watchers Watching the Watchers that watch the
Watchers!â<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
The angels sang now, and the demons laughed. Worlds
span upon their axis, and the forces of nature compelled the atoms of reality
to obey. And the priest took a step towards me, his expression crafty. âNow I
expect you wish to knowâŚâ he gestured towards the temple that was last revealed
to me, âwho watches them?â<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
The gong gonged, the thunder rolled, and a fork of
lightening split the heavens as though God wished to illuminate this moment and
witness it for Himself.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I scratched my chin and considered for a minute.
âNah, I think Iâll leave it there,â I decided.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/_Imh1FCrAfA/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/_Imh1FCrAfA?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-18713408461723799262016-05-09T08:51:00.000-07:002016-05-09T09:09:11.513-07:00The Silent Sentinels<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoTitle" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">They stood there in silence for an endless age</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Their pact their compulsion, their promise a cage</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">To stand in attendance, a vigil sublime</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Steadfast and unswerving âtill the end of time</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Armour was their raiment, their weapon a sword</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">On their lips was offered a silent prayer to the lord</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Their charge was a secret to protect at all cost</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">And failure would mean all they held dear would be
lost</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And so they stood like two statues of stone</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">No promise of rest, no place for a home</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Loyal and steadfast and quiet as the grave</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">No trifle would distract these Sentinels brave</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Then one day it happened, the merrymakers came</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Boisterous and happy, their joy without shame</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The silence was shattered, but they little cared</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">When saw them the Sentinels, they stopped dead and
stared</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">They saw two dark figures which stood straight and tall</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Next to whom a giant would seem small</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Most would have been cowed by these gladiators of old</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">But not the head merrymaker he shouted, bold</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">âWhatâs this here friends? </span><span style="font-size: large;">Hereâs some new sport</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">What about that quiet one, he looks a sort!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">What about the other one, all silent and glum</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Letâs stay here a while, and have us some fun!â</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And so it began, distraction was the game</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Would the Sentinels flinch or would they stay the same?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The merrymakers searched for some kind of token</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">That
would render the Sentinelsâ vigilance broken</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Look! One yells out challenges and invokes his
gods!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Look! Oneâs mouthing insults â heâs shouting the
odds!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Look! One of themâs laughing to see such a farce!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Look! Oneâs dropped his trousers â heâs waving his
arse!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The party it threatened to last for all week</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Insults
and gestures and things thrown in cheek</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Yet
through all the chaos, the deafening noise</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">These
mighty Sentinels not once lost their poise</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Silent as the void, immovable as granite</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">No
force that had ever been born on this planet</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Could
test the resolve of these warriors true</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">And
soon the merrymakers ran out of mischief to do</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But the leader of this party, whose name was Stan</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Had
altogether a much darker plan</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Quietly and deftly, away from the action</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">He
drew his dread weapon, the Sword of Distraction</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">This weapon was forged in the fires of Hell</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Upon
it was bestowed the most evil spell</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">âTwas
there it was cursed as a Sentinelâs bane</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">That
would bring them down screaming and dying in pain</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Stealing in quietly he brandished the sword</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Uttering
oaths to his Satanic Lord</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Stan
slashed at the guardians, drawing their blood</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Aiming
to finally finish them for good</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">And as the Sentinels staggered and collapsed</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Before
any significant time had elapsed</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">They
heard a sound that would haunt them in the hereafter</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The
sound of demonic triumphant laughter</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Trapped here when still the world was young</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Guarded
by both of the Sentinels as one</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">A
demon whom Hell called the foulest of all</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Was
free to bring about humanityâs fall</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Stan, who thought he could bargain with the beast</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Stared
in surprise, the first life to be ceased</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The
monster swallowed this foolish man whole</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Then
greedily feasted on his mortal soul</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">And then the merrymakersâ laughter, like their dreams</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Was
forgotten in the wake of their agonised screams</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Fighting,
fleeing, pleading, all no good</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">And
the ground disappeared, awash with their blood</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Soon all the land was an orgy of death</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">As
millions lay gutted and drawing their last breath</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">From
the entrails of children it constructed a nest</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Its
helm was from bone with a skull as its crest</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The beast fed on human life to sate its foul hunger</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The
more people died, the more it grew stronger</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">âTill
the last humanâs flesh was shredded and unfurled</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">And
the demon prepared to devour the world</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Yet even as the monster opened its huge jaws</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Even
as Earthâs future seemed a hopeless cause</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The
Planet found hope in its hour of strife</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">For
the Sentinels still clung to a slim spark of life</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The Sentinels had not perished as Stan had supposed</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">While
they lived, the enemy of life they opposed</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">And
uttering their silent prayer to the Lord</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">They
reached for their scabbards and each drew a sword</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The demon had grown to a monstrous size</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Feeding
not only on life, but on lies</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Two
weapons could stop it, forged in the worldâs youth</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The
Sentinelâs weapons, the great Swords of Truth</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The demon ceased feeding, for something did rankle</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">A
pain and a coldness spreading from its ankle</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">âTwas
there that the Truth Swords did pierce its skin</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">And
the demon stopped growing, so the shrinking could begin</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">And then something truly amazing occurred</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Voices
that in history had never been heard</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Rang
out to invoke on the demon a curse</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The
demonâs voice had been fearful, but the Sentinelsâ were worse</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">âBack, demon! Back to your cold, empty cage!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">An
end to your mission of evil and rage!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Back
to the prison from whence you were sprung!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">To
stay âtill the end of the Universe is come!â</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">With a great howl of anger, then a scream of despair</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The
demon diminished in a cold rush of air</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">To
be sucked back into its terrible cage</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">To
stay till the cosmos would die of old age</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">And so for the Earth, the ordeal was over</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Its
animals had life; its forests were in clover</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">But
no human now lived, to stand, rise or fall</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The folly of one man had ended them all</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">On a world now bereft of man, woman and nation</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Stand two Silent Sentinels, guarding all of creation</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Advice to passing beings, by all means look at them</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">But if you value existence donât go and distract them!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-7340414089280805842016-04-15T02:04:00.000-07:002016-04-15T02:04:35.469-07:00Here's Where the Story Ends<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
The apartment was just as I remembered it. An expansive living room that looked out upon a lush green landscape. A desirable living space, and yet empty and neglected, as if its owner was a bachelor who was wrapped up in other things, aside from domestic bliss. But the cat was there, and she looked at me impatiently; affectionate and yet exasperated - maybe because of something I had or hadn't done? Perhaps she had a point. I still missed her.<br />
<br />
There was a knock at the door. "Wait there," I told the cat and went to answer.<br />
<br />
At the door there stood a tall man in a dark suit. He wore sunglasses and an expression of severity on his craggy features. "May I come in?" he asked me.<br />
<br />
"I don't know," I replied nervously, "are you one of the Men in Black?"<br />
<br />
"No. But you would, I'm sorry to say, consider me to be something worse," he said, "I am in fact from the Ministry of Creativity."<br />
<br />
"The Ministry of what?!"<br />
<br />
"Creativity," The Man repeated patiently, "May I come in?" he asked me again. Though still in a state of confusion I stepped back and opened the door wider; The Man in the black suit swept in carrying a brief case. <br />
<br />
We took a seat at a large round, glass table in the middle of my living room. It was the kind of table I would have liked to have in my living room but never did. As I sat down, I saw that an object was lying on the table in front of me: it was a wristband that was made from brown, smooth, strung together beads. I remembered it had been given to me as a parting gift at a rock festival, but I had lost it long ago. I picked it up and turned it over in my hand, and something occurred to me: "I'm dreaming."<br />
<br />
"Yes you are", confirmed The Man from the ministry as he took the opposite seat to my own, "this is where we make our client calls. In dreams."<br />
<br />
"And what is the purpose of this call?" I asked him.<br />
<br />
In response The Man put the brief case that he had been carrying on the table in front of me. The two catches that served as the release mechanism sprang open, and from the case he passed me a document. "Here you are," he told me, "this is the next story that you are going to write."<br />
<br />
"Oh right," I said as he handed me the article, "and why is it being delivered to me like this? I can't remember having any calls from the Ministry of Creativity before."<br />
<br />
The agent regarded me expressionlessly through his dark glasses. "That's because this story will be the last story that you will ever write. There will be no more. Your creative licence has expired."<br />
<br />
I gazed back at him blankly. "My creative licence? Has expired?!" I said in confusion.<br />
<br />
The Man took this opportunity to explain. "Every living being is born with a certain consignment of creativity. You may use this creativity in different ways: writing stories, formulating theories, painting pictures, designing machines and so forth. But when its gone its gone I'm afraid. Also, in these times of austerity, we've had to make cuts to existing consignments. Therefore the remaining creativity in your consignment has been reallocated to a more high achieving recipient."<br />
<br />
I looked at the file in front of me, feeling an ache within as I listened to these words, as if something was being torn from my soul. "No more stories?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"I'm afraid not."<br />
<br />
"What about poems?"<br />
<br />
"No, none of those either. Or lyrics. Or music. Or jokes."<br />
<br />
I scratched my head, trying to take in the enormity of what he was saying. "no more drawings?"<br />
<br />
He had to think about this one for a moment. "Doodles should be OK," he decided, "but you'll have to stick to the tried and tested ones. Like the cubes and the aeroplanes you like to draw."<br />
<br />
"What about random little tunes popping up inside my head?" I asked<br />
<br />
"Sorry."<br />
<br />
"And what about problem solving?"<br />
<br />
"You'll have to get advice," answered The Man from the ministry, "That shouldn't trouble you too much - you have to get advice on plenty of stuff from day to day as it is. Now you'll just have to do it a bit more."<br />
<br />
I sat there for a bit longer, still stunned and still struggling to comprehend. An empty life was stretching out in front of me. "Are you alright?" The Man from the ministry asked in a perfunctory tone.<br />
<br />
"I... " it seemed difficult to articulate myself in this harsh unreality, in this dream that was not a dream. "But what about all the stories I will never write?" I managed to ask, "What if someone saw them and was inspired? Even one person? How... how do you know?..."<br />
<br />
"The answer is we don't," the government representative admitted, "I mean, what if we make cuts to healthcare and someone dies because of it? We might have cut healthcare to fund the building of weapons, and then many people would die. That is the responsibility of government. And life is cruel."<br />
<br />
I nodded mechanically, feeling crushed and resigned, and considered the document that had been presented to me. "Is it a good story?" I asked.<br />
<br />
At this the The Man's expression softened somewhat. "I believe you will be pleased with the idea when writing it," he told me, "but in the future such things will be not be easy to judge, as you will find the story difficult to revisit; after all, it is your last one."<br />
<br />
I nodded and looked down at the document again. "Here's where the story ends..." I mused.<br />
<br />
"Hmm," said The Man, "that's a reference to a song isn't it? Very appropriate. That's what you should call it. You like doing that kind of thing."<br />
<br />
I shrugged, but as I looked the words "Here's Where the Story Ends" formed on the cover of the document.<br />
<br />
"Well, that's settled then," said The Man from the Ministry, "And now I must leave." He stood up.<br />
<br />
I looked up at him, one last question lingering in my mind. "Is there a Ministry of Silly Walks?"<br />
<br />
The only reply I got was an echoing beat, as of approaching thunder. The drumbeat became louder and louder, until it filled my mind, and I found myself becoming conscious. I opened my eyes and saw that I was surrounded by darkness. Beyond the windows of my room a car was driving down the street, its sound system booming out a rhythm so loud that any music that may have accompanied it was obscured. The beat became yet louder before eventually beginning to retreat, its thunderous emanations further distorted by the Doppler effect. I rose from my bed, crossing the room to the window.<br />
<br />
I had been dreaming, but whatever I had experienced in my unconscious mind was now fading like the last rays of an Autumn sunset. But the picture of my cat by the window reminded me that she'd been there. I was glad of this, however I got the impression my nocturnal experience had not been a happy one.<br />
<br />
Happiness, I reflected: in an existence of pain, grief and monotony, what was it but a string of moments scattered haphazardly across a lifetime?<br />
<br />
Just imagine, I speculated further, if there was a drug that could collect together those moments and give you one intense high...<br />
<br />
Now that's a good idea for a story...<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-35470385781755408502016-03-24T03:18:00.001-07:002016-04-07T05:21:30.833-07:00Protect Local Democracy<h2 style="text-align: center;">
Or</h2>
<div>
<br /></div>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
Against All Odds</h2>
<div>
<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Please allow me to introduce myself...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div>
I opened the latest Ealing 38 Degrees meeting with the following words:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36.0pt;">
Iâve always been a strong
believer in environmental issues â protecting the earth and finding cleaner ways
of generating energy. In the past few
years I have become more and more aware of the struggle of the Palestinian
people for freedom and justice. And I
have become aware of how important local democracy is, and how local politics
affects peopleâs lives. All of these
issues have been brought sharply into focus by the new law that this government
wish to impose upon us. This is a rule
designed to prevent local authorities from making ethical choices when they
decide where to invest their money. This
means barring them from boycotting Israeli firms that operate in the West Bank
of Palestine, or weapons manufacturers, or corporations that they believe
operate in an unethical manner. With me
to discuss these matters further are Ben Jamal from the National Executive of
the <a href="http://www.palestinecampaign.org/">Palestine Solidarity Campaign</a>, Joel Benjamin of <a href="http://communityreinvest.org.uk/who-we-are/">Community Reinvest</a> and <a href="http://moveyourmoney.org.uk/">MoveYour Money</a>, and Alex Goldhill of the <a href="http://www.unitetheunion.org/how-we-help/listofregions/londonandeastern/community-membership-in-london-and-eastern/">Unite Community</a> in Ealing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36.0pt;">
<br /></div>
Alex spoke first, and gave us a summary of some of the historical precedents that contributed to the juncture at which we have arrived. The battles between the Thatcher government and local authorities in the 1980s; the boycott movement that had risen to oppose Apartheid South Africa; and George Osborne's insincere efforts to persuade us that there would be a "Devolution Revolution". He also touched on the fact that spending cuts have savagely cut local government budgets - although Conservative run authorities have received more help from their government that councils run by other parties.<br />
<br />
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
Destroying Revenues for Local Councils</h3>
<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div>
Joel Benjamin was up next, and immediately gave us an eye opening statistic that less money is spent locally in the United Kingdom than in any other country in the West. The vast majority of funds spent locally are from central government. But things have become considerably worse over the last few years. <br />
<br />
<span id="docs-internal-guid-8280e9ef-8eab-1017-c993-83b4e2446198"></span>Cuts to council budgets from central government, and restrictions over the way that councils can seek loans to plug the resulting gaps in their balance sheets have lead to the rise of the "<a href="http://lada.debtresistance.uk/what-is-a-lobo/">LOBO (Lender Option Borrower Option) Loan</a>". It is this kind of loan that has put private banks in charge of local authority debt, rather than the more stable local government loans that councils have been deterred from taking out. These loans can appear to be much more reasonable at first, but after the initial fixed term ('teaser rate') has expired, the lender has the option to increase its Interest Rates, which puts the council in question at the mercy of private financial interests. This means, in practice, that local authorities such as Hackney are currently spending 80% of their council tax revenues on servicing their debt to banks such as RBS, HSBC and Barclays. There are some local authorities in Scotland whose debt repayments now stand at 100% of their council tax revenues.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And yet...<br />
<br />
<span id="docs-internal-guid-8280e9ef-8eab-1017-c993-83b4e2446198"></span>... despite this growing debt trap, and despite the centralization, and despite the broken devolution promises, local authorities remain rich reserves of spending and bastions of local democracy that are more accessible than their central government counterpart. And they can use their autonomy to pursue courses of action that may not chime with official government policy. And indeed why should they blindly follow policies they may not agree with? A council ward may be part of a Conservative constituency but may elect a Labour or a Liberal Democrat councilor - or a Green, or UKIP or maybe an independent. And so locally, within the limits of its influence, politics may work differently. That's localism; that's democracy. These are the principles that George Osborne and the Conservatives paid lip service to when they came to power.<br />
<br />
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
What is BDS?</h3>
</div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
One of the ways that local democracy can practice its independence is through the peaceful tactic of Boycott, Divestment and Sanction. BDS for short. If an organization, or a corporation are providing services or manufacturing goods for a government that are repressive towards their own, or part of their own, or another country's population, then you do not avail yourself of their services or goods; and you withdraw any funds you may have invested in that organization. This "destroys a firm's cultural license to operate", and hopefully will change the behaviour of that organization or corporation, who may in turn find themselves forced to withdraw their services or investments from the country with the repressive government. And this in turn, hopefully, will change the behaviour of the repressive government. It's like a virtuous cycle.</div>
<br />
<span id="docs-internal-guid-8280e9ef-8eab-1017-c993-83b4e2446198"></span>
Or sometimes it's just about the wish to be more virtuous. After all, can one sleep easily knowing that one's pension fund could be used to manufacture weapons that may target civilians? Would it not feel good to know that one's pension is not tied into the fumes of an oil refinery belching carbon into the atmosphere and warming it up? Or a fracking operation, poisoning the water and causing earthquakes?
<br />
<br />
And local governments in Britain have begun to use this BDS option. Leicester council have <a href="http://www.thejc.com/news/uk-news/126235/leicester-council-boycott-israeli-settlement-goods">boycotted goods manufactured from the West Bank</a>. Reading council have announced that they are <a href="http://www.getreading.co.uk/news/local-news/fossil-fuel-investment-reading-council-10348107">divesting from fossil fuels</a>. Apart from the ethical issues, this is common sense: everyone knows how the price of oil is <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/video/2015/mar/25/naomi-klein-climate-change-lets-kick-oil-price-video">currently crashing</a> (though ÂŁ14 billion in British public service pension money is sill tied into fossil fuels); and the government's <a href="https://www.gov.uk/government/publications/overseas-business-risk-israel/overseas-business-risk-israel#business-and-human-rights">own guidelines</a> warn of the risks in investing in settlements that break international law.<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;"><br /></span>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-8280e9ef-8eab-1017-c993-83b4e2446198"></span>But councils were never going to be allowed to take these kind of actions with impunity. Not in a country that has become, as a friend of mine has dubbed, <a href="http://www.theprostitutestate.co.uk/">The Prostitute State</a>. A country where ministers mouth platitudes about protecting the environment while sitting on the boards of fracking companies. A country where inquiries into tax evasion are themselves headed by tax evaders. These monied interests looked upon the actions of recalcitrant local authorities, and they did not like what they saw.<br />
<div>
<br />
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
A New Law to Target BDS</h3>
<div>
Ben Jamal, from the Palestinian Solidarity Campaign now addressed the meeting. He told us of new measures were announced in a press release on 7th October 2015 on the eve of the Conservative Party conference that month. By sheer coincidence Jeremy Corbyn, a known sympathiser to the cause of Palestinian liberation, had been elected leader of the Labour Party a few weeks before. Drafted by Greg Clark, Secretary of State for Communities and Local Government. It spoke of the "divisive" nature of BDS that posed a "risk" to local communities, and that "measures" were going to be introduced to "oppose" BDS. Matthew Hancock, Minister for the Cabinet Office, formerly introduced the measure during a <a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/politics/boycott-israel-ban-bds-illegal-british-government-tories-palestine-procurement-a6879421.html">trip to Israel</a>. They were implemented without a vote in the House of Commons. One person who would have been very satisfied with this outcome is <a href="http://www.jpost.com/Israel-News/Politics-And-Diplomacy/Israels-answer-to-the-BDS-movement-Gilad-Erdan-404038">Gilad Erdan</a>, who is Benjamin Netanyahu's no. 2 in the Israeli government, and has been tasked with coordinating the "Anti" BDS movement around the world.<br />
<br />
The way these new measures work is by "second guessing". Say a council decides it no longer wants to invest in Hewlett Packard, which is known to be <a href="http://www.boycottisrael.org.uk/hewlett-packard/">deeply involved</a> in supplying the Israel Military in its blockade of Gaza and in the illegal occupation of the of the West Bank. This could also apply to a council that decides to divest from companies that export weapons to, say, Saudi Arabia. George Osborne could extrapolate that the true reason for divestment from this company is because of that company's actions in Israel, or that weapons manufacturer's intent to trade with the Saudis - and force the council to continue its investments. <br />
<br />
What is being done to fight this new law?<br />
<br />
<span id="docs-internal-guid-8280e9ef-8eab-1017-c993-83b4e2446198"></span>Firstly, a debate was finally called in the House of Commons concerning the <i>fait accompli </i>that had been presented to them in the shape of this new law. The transcript for the debate can be read below:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.palestinecampaign.org/local-government-ethical-procurement-debate-in-parliament/">http://www.palestinecampaign.org/local-government-ethical-procurement-debate-in-parliament/</a><br />
<br />
I am glad to say that two MP's from my local area, Stephen Pound and particularly Andy Slaughter, stood strongly in opposition to the legislation. Ben also told us of how Newcastle Council are planning a legal challenge to the government to resist these changes.<br />
<br />
See below for some ways you yourself can not only join the fight against this law, but also ways you can find out how much your council owes in LOBO loans, or how much money your council has invested in fossil fuels.<br />
<br />
Will justice prevail, or will the government's pernicious actions continue to damage human rights and the environment? I cannot say, but the important thing is that we don't take this lying down.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><strong class="quotetext">"</strong><span class="quotetext">Every generation has to fight the same
battles for peace, justice and democracy. And there is no final victory
nor final defeat.</span><strong class="quotetext">"</strong>
</i></div>
<div class="quote-source" style="text-align: left;">
<i>Tony Benn</i></div>
</div>
</div>
<h3>
</h3>
<h3>
Actions You Can Take</h3>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-8280e9ef-8eab-1017-c993-83b4e2446198"></span><br />
<a href="https://you.38degrees.org.uk/petitions/protect-local-freedom-to-divest" style="font-family: 'helvetica neue', helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">Protect Local Freedom to Boycott</a> - Petition to David Cameron<br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></span>
<a href="http://protect%20local%20democracy/" style="font-family: 'helvetica neue', helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">Protect Local Democracy</a> - Write to your MP and ask him or her oppose this new law<br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></span>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-8280e9ef-8eab-1017-c993-83b4e2446198"></span>
<a href="http://gofossilfree.org/uk/pensions/">Go Fossil Free Local Gov Pensions Tool</a> - Find how much your council pension fund has in fossil fuels
<br />
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym18_1_1458582270023_3595">
<br clear="none" /></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym18_1_1458582270023_3594">
<a href="http://communityreinvest.org.uk/" id="yui_3_16_0_ym18_1_1458582270023_3605" rel="nofollow" shape="rect" style="background: transparent; color: #196ad4; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px;" target="_blank">Community Reinvest</a> - A Report on which councils are divesting from fossil fuels and reinvesting in community energy<br />
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym18_1_1458582270023_3593">
<a href="http://lada.debtresistance.uk/" id="yui_3_16_0_ym18_1_1458582270023_3592" rel="nofollow" shape="rect" style="background: transparent; color: #196ad4; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px;" target="_blank">Debt Resistance UK - local authority debt audit</a> - Find out how much bank LOBO Loan debt your council has & oppose it....</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_ym18_1_1458582270023_3591">
<br clear="none" /></div>
<a href="https://shareaction.org/" id="yui_3_16_0_ym18_1_1458582270023_3604" rel="nofollow" shape="rect" style="background: transparent; color: #196ad4; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px;" target="_blank">ShareAction</a> Information on your pension and advice on lobbying and pressuring companies to clean up their act<br />
<br />
<span id="docs-internal-guid-8280e9ef-8eab-1017-c993-83b4e2446198"></span><a href="http://divestlondon.org/">Divest London</a><span id="docs-internal-guid-8280e9ef-8eab-1017-c993-83b4e2446198"></span> Information on local government divestment campaigning across the Capital<br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "segoe ui" , "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<h3>
A Selection of Further Reading</h3>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/goog_1705276294">http://www.palestinecampaign.org/conservative-plans-ethical-investment/#sthash.CNb0cjJo.dpuf</a></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/goog_1705276294">
</a><br />
<br />
<div>
<a href="http://lada.debtresistance.uk/what-is-a-lobo/">http://lada.debtresistance.uk/what-is-a-lobo/</a></div>
<br />
<a href="http://www.ianfraser.org/how-city-banks-and-brokers-stitched-up-local-authorities-with-lobo-loans/">http://www.ianfraser.org/how-city-banks-and-brokers-stitched-up-local-authorities-with-lobo-loans/</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://wire.novaramedia.com/2015/07/osbornes-budget-surplus-lock-is-a-scam-to-encourage-more-borrowing-from-the-city/">http://wire.novaramedia.com/2015/07/osbornes-budget-surplus-lock-is-a-scam-to-encourage-more-borrowing-from-the-city/</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.thecanary.co/2016/03/16/osbornes-budget-contains-nasty-surprise-local-services/">http://www.thecanary.co/2016/03/16/osbornes-budget-contains-nasty-surprise-local-services/</a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://electronicintifada.net/content/billionaire-donor-using-british-council-combat-israel-boycott/15991">https://electronicintifada.net/content/billionaire-donor-using-british-council-combat-israel-boycott/15991</a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.middleeastmonitor.com/blogs/politics/21545-uk-governments-attack-on-bds-part-of-wider-offensive">https://www.middleeastmonitor.com/blogs/politics/21545-uk-governments-attack-on-bds-part-of-wider-offensive</a><br />
<br />J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-70484236868176251192016-01-07T09:07:00.000-08:002016-01-12T04:33:19.190-08:00And Now, The End is Near<h2 style="text-align: center;">
Or</h2>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
We're on the Road to Nowhere</h2>
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
#AVFC</h3>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>And you may find yourself</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>With a useless owner</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>And you may find yourself</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>With a helpless coach</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>And you may find yourself</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>With miserable support</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>And losing every game</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>And you may ask yourself</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Well</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>How did I get here?</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Randolph David Lerner will not go down as the best sports team owner of all time.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq_rfa3NoZPuNhASIMs276ew-F6eXqmoSkpDBPWV5wqXFVTIWWdtk1L2H0k2PMXQNNXkkF3lwMZqDxqgrpN4oRYKpzHPqNNU2jmu9ezT2NqkemmBMDAHdaJDJesCnBiCgogVeizxwqsA8/s1600/Randy+Lerner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq_rfa3NoZPuNhASIMs276ew-F6eXqmoSkpDBPWV5wqXFVTIWWdtk1L2H0k2PMXQNNXkkF3lwMZqDxqgrpN4oRYKpzHPqNNU2jmu9ezT2NqkemmBMDAHdaJDJesCnBiCgogVeizxwqsA8/s320/Randy+Lerner.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
He will not go down as a good sports team owner.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
But he will go down as a very bad one.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Ask the Aston Villa fans. Or <a href="https://youtu.be/tRBDMMVctu8">ask the Cleveland Browns fans</a>. His record at both clubs speaks for itself.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div>
Villa have spent the last few years of circling the vortex of relegation, and it now appears that they have decided to engage full throttle and speed towards that black hole.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf4nw7zt1c0-YA-rhc21gAITFIygGNTuAtubUfwyWVC2cAqJmVpDV_8_KLc2ajL02laoa7RnQCqNB4OKm7pSlHjO2D-lt7w-kDIUpQtXcJYtS_Dg4SPHPHE0kvEvIT9X_H6CMoROPi9LY/s1600/wile-e-coyote-fall-o.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf4nw7zt1c0-YA-rhc21gAITFIygGNTuAtubUfwyWVC2cAqJmVpDV_8_KLc2ajL02laoa7RnQCqNB4OKm7pSlHjO2D-lt7w-kDIUpQtXcJYtS_Dg4SPHPHE0kvEvIT9X_H6CMoROPi9LY/s1600/wile-e-coyote-fall-o.gif" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div>
So what did go so terribly wrong? What happened to the "Bright Future" we were promised?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Despite pundits and experts who might sometimes make it appear otherwise there are some very simple football rules that you should follow in order to avoid making a complete cluster fuck of everything you do. The list featured in this blog is in NO WAY meant to be a comprehensive list of mistakes made by Randy Lerner and his assistants. For they are Legion.</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
Rule 1<br />Don't sell your best players and bring in inferior replacements. </h4>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div>
No matter how much or how little you know about football, I would have thought that rule would be self evident. But we can get back to this one later.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Of course there are other rules that are perhaps more nuanced. Break any one of them and you might be in a bit of trouble. Break them all and you'll probably find yourself speeding towards demotion more quickly than you can say 19 games without a win.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
To me, the real decline began in June 2011. Villa had briefly been in trouble the previous season, but had rallied and secured a top 10 position in the premier league with a strong finish. And then manager Gerard Houllier succumbed to his notorious dicky ticker and the search for his replacement was on. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But Who would this replacement be? David Moyes? Steve Mclaren? The more ambitious among the Villa fans named "The Special One", Jose Mourinho! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But Randy Lerner had someone different in mind, thanks to some great advice from rival Manchester United manager Alex Ferguson!</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
Rule 2<br />When you're choosing a new manager, hiring the manager who has just overseen the relegation of the neighbouring team is not the most obvious choice<br />Rule 2a<br />Especially when you have to pay that neighbouring team a high compensation fee for hiring this manager.</h4>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_9njtfCHmbQpQ1y9Q7zEGKjgKfXfOHyu3_fZNO-H8AWAhIN_bJ9kmK_CJMOIg35o-2kDuwxl_2E11D-62v4aFWUN-n9CYmf7hy_Mc2zR4m5Y8deODhk7BTrNHbG-Q15_bEgA6qAyPHfg/s1600/_53492819_roan-birmingham.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_9njtfCHmbQpQ1y9Q7zEGKjgKfXfOHyu3_fZNO-H8AWAhIN_bJ9kmK_CJMOIg35o-2kDuwxl_2E11D-62v4aFWUN-n9CYmf7hy_Mc2zR4m5Y8deODhk7BTrNHbG-Q15_bEgA6qAyPHfg/s320/_53492819_roan-birmingham.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A short hop across the city</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div>
And so the Alex Mcleish crossed the short distance from arch rivals Birmingham City to join Aston Villa. And until the end of our days, Aston Villa fans will look at the breaking of rule 2 (and 2a), scratch our heads, look at one another in bewilderment, and ask "why"?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
At the time, some of us scrabbled around like desperate debt ridden prospectors scratching for gold in a barren country, looking for some hidden reason that we MUST have missed in this inexplicable decision. Randy has a cunning plan, we thought frantically. He knows something that we don't. Yes, that's it!!!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
But he didn't.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
He really didn't.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
He really really didn't.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMM2GjRmCxm4dNBCXfGL6xoIhGCgEN3wDq7mGTXQARuMBfgab69Ny9HdK7VvQNke6bmGDycsVhTm1yBe_6qrqyVVpdCZCYnsntie6NnD5DR6fkLJ1xY6RVf9VeNXWggolQrX0oHI-LHNc/s1600/smashed-computer.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="142" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMM2GjRmCxm4dNBCXfGL6xoIhGCgEN3wDq7mGTXQARuMBfgab69Ny9HdK7VvQNke6bmGDycsVhTm1yBe_6qrqyVVpdCZCYnsntie6NnD5DR6fkLJ1xY6RVf9VeNXWggolQrX0oHI-LHNc/s320/smashed-computer.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div>
The not quite so dark side of this utter shit storm was that in those heady days of 2012, the Aston Villa support had not yet been cowed into submission by relentlessly awful football and inevitable defeat following inevitable defeat. And so as another disaster unfolded on the pitch before us one spring evening, the Villa Park stadium echoed to the chants of "we want our Villa back", and demands for Alex Mcleish to be sacked. When you've lost the crowd like that there is only ever one outcome.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt4XYzOb9VOJZPMKYsax6aY6JtcRJZdsJcNo55WOx_H2UPCdtjzHLaBO9YnR5VZEqS4I2eLxeRj9htmliB10DRIGeC1WkyVmJKEaAjrVdSnzJjfMnS1LRU8zFm0Ljd2PWRHvpWIi4ntYE/s1600/Fired.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt4XYzOb9VOJZPMKYsax6aY6JtcRJZdsJcNo55WOx_H2UPCdtjzHLaBO9YnR5VZEqS4I2eLxeRj9htmliB10DRIGeC1WkyVmJKEaAjrVdSnzJjfMnS1LRU8zFm0Ljd2PWRHvpWIi4ntYE/s1600/Fired.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div>
I have heard from many sources that Alex Mcleish is a decent guy and the kind of chap you could go for a beer with, so it is unfortunate things ended the way they did for him. But to my mind he was put into an impossible position with an ending that was virtually inevitable.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So was Lerner a learner now? Or did he now merely have the opportunity to make further mistakes?<br />
<br /></div>
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
Rule 3<br />You pay peanuts you get...</h4>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The next man appointed to the job of Aston Villa supremo was Paul Lambert, another dour Scotsman, but a far more popular appointment. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivlIXsTzW1UG-5yfBa0nrb2LAda-FpcguQY7YGQNSE7n_e1qu8V74qPTqENeI3caOJ34iwzCqwEZmj4dcm5wUs4erYdsRzjUBlUp5c3sDA0vSy526kSDneyS3e2tHBywXP1soaZD9CeBQ/s1600/Paul%252BLambert%252BAston%252BVilla%252Bv%252BIpswich%252BTown%252BFA%252B5H62fvGgzWul.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivlIXsTzW1UG-5yfBa0nrb2LAda-FpcguQY7YGQNSE7n_e1qu8V74qPTqENeI3caOJ34iwzCqwEZmj4dcm5wUs4erYdsRzjUBlUp5c3sDA0vSy526kSDneyS3e2tHBywXP1soaZD9CeBQ/s320/Paul%252BLambert%252BAston%252BVilla%252Bv%252BIpswich%252BTown%252BFA%252B5H62fvGgzWul.jpg" width="230" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A popular appointment</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div>
Paul's predecessors, Martin O'Neill and to some extent the aforementioned Alex Mcleish, had been critisized for signing players on long contracts with big wages and little sell on value. So someone in the Lerner regime had the bright idea of doing the opposite - buying young, untried players from lower leagues in England and abroad for cheap fees, then converting them into stars and selling them on at massive profits. The <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moneyball">"Moneyball" philosophy</a>. Many of the current playing staff, now surplus to requirements, were unceremoniously banished to train with the reserves and the youth players, where they christened themselves "The Bomb Squad". And they continued to pick up their high wages. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The more cautious among the support raised alarm bells.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Shouldn't these young untried players have some experienced heads to lean upon?</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
If we're going to try and sell on the high earners, shouldn't they get the chance of some game time to "put themselves in the shop window" so to speak?</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
If you buy from the lower divisions, isn't there a chance that that's where you will end up?</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div>
These cries were unheeded.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Paul Lambert's reign as manager was not a complete disaster. Christian Benteke, his most expensive signing, is a great player. Fabian Delph, who had previously struggled with injuries and confidence, blossomed into the midfield general we all hoped he could be. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But it was mostly a disaster. The football style that Lambert bought in started off boldly, and was almost naive in its attacking intent. Gradually it became more guarded, and less organised. Eventually it was clueless and hopeless. Lambert's assistant coaches were sacked for bullying. The cheap "young and hungry players" began to succumb to failure (if you ever arrive to watch a football match and find out Aleksandar Tonev is playing, wear protective clothing. The safest place in the ground when he takes a shot is the goal).</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicNTXZ2e7eBXFEw5taIPM-IAEibP0ZFSpB4dye-ccIfCxEiPxm4cWC2z4vfZ79rn-pKc7pGWJgUFpYJpw_FRe0xcqJx1z6uxBB6a7fp8UgMfWNd6q3o0i90GOFGFpESD-Vz3zeq2W9x4o/s1600/Baby-fireworks-reaction.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicNTXZ2e7eBXFEw5taIPM-IAEibP0ZFSpB4dye-ccIfCxEiPxm4cWC2z4vfZ79rn-pKc7pGWJgUFpYJpw_FRe0xcqJx1z6uxBB6a7fp8UgMfWNd6q3o0i90GOFGFpESD-Vz3zeq2W9x4o/s320/Baby-fireworks-reaction.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div>
And as Villa edged ever closer to the trapdoor, even Randy Lerner began to feel "like <a href="http://www.wordlibrary.co.uk/article.php?id=171">the Shunammite</a>" (I'm not kidding, <a href="http://www.avfc.co.uk/page/NewsDetail/0,,10265~3825532,00.html">he said that</a>). Yes, the time had come for Randy to sell up and move on.</div>
</div>
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
Rule 4<br />When you are trying to get ÂŁ200 million for an asset you're desperate to get rid of, try not to LOOK too desperate</h4>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div>
To me, the announcement on the official website that Aston Villa were now up for sale was needless, and, well, a bit rubbish really. Usually when a professional football club is sold, the first you hear of it is when the new owners are negotiating the sale. Sometimes you don't hear of anything until the sale is complete. Certainly a lame announcement, accompanied by some kind of weird dear John letter is not the kind of thing that will get investors knocking down your door.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And so it has proved.</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
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Season 2014/2015 dawned like a caress on the head with a brick, and by now Paul Lambert was a dejected, isolated figure on the touchline, watching helplessly as his team charged towards relegation like a runaway train full of lemmings speeding towards the edge of a cliff and attempting to reach 85MPH for a time travel experiment. For everyone's sake he was put out of his misery.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjymAwfCJsG71ZVAMEqd59qppgDJJ9UfjACImZ5sUo22JF-rSqnz5My9xWetoeElF4W4Sour0mEmcDjz6K8iCmscqizdgDGYN3znqVnRkfjpqQ7RCAER1o6oDayfQN94iYnUpPFu8oDLZ0/s1600/Train_wreck_at_Montparnasse_1895.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjymAwfCJsG71ZVAMEqd59qppgDJJ9UfjACImZ5sUo22JF-rSqnz5My9xWetoeElF4W4Sour0mEmcDjz6K8iCmscqizdgDGYN3znqVnRkfjpqQ7RCAER1o6oDayfQN94iYnUpPFu8oDLZ0/s320/Train_wreck_at_Montparnasse_1895.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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From an impressive list of one possible replacement, cheeky cockney barrow boy and ex Spurs chief Tim Sherwood was chosen. Sherwood was not known for his appreciation of the finer points of football strategy, hence his less than complimentary nickname, "Tactics Tim". But what he lacked in tactical acumen it was hoped that he would make up for with brash confidence and self belief that he could pass on to his his players. Confidence and self belief, which it must be said Mr Sherwood has in abundance. </div>
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Confident!</div>
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This was either going to be an inspired choice or a catastrophe. And, for a while it appeared to be the former! A rejuvenated Aston Villa clawed their way out of the dropzone with some dynamic performances, and they even got to the FA Cup Final, on the way knocking out bitter rivals West Bromwich Albion, giving me a trip to Wembley for the semi-finals where I enjoyed watching Villa triumph over Liverpool with goals from the aforementioned Fabian Delph and Christian Benteke.</div>
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Look Mom, I'm at Wembley!</div>
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Then, at a certain point (half time against West Ham on 9th May would be my rough estimate), the decision changed into a catastrophe, and Tim Sherwood managed to produce just one victory over the next five and a half months, including 6 straight defeats in his last 6 matches, and an embarrassingly one sided defeat in the FA Cup Final (ah well, at least I can remember the semis). It was time for Tim to hit the road.</div>
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It wasn't all Tim's fault it had to be said. Last Summer Villa broke the golden rule (rule number 1, told you we'd get back to it!) for the last time, and it was goodbye Mr Benteke (all the best and thanks for the goals which kept us up for 3 seasons) and Mr Delph (thanks for telling us you'd be at Villa for years to come before changing your mind 5 days later).</div>
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Now Villa's latest manager is Remi Garde. What do we know about Monseuir Garde? Used to manage French side Lyon, played for Arsenal in the 1990s, and talks a good game. Villa desperately needed someone to wake them up...</div>
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... But for all his effectiveness so far (ten games, no victories at the time of writing) we might as well be managed by Renee from Allo Allo (and at least Renee from Allo Allo could distract us from what was going on the pitch by showing us pictures of the Fallen Madonna with the Big Boobies).</div>
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You stupid football team!</div>
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So here we are, 11 points from safety, 7 points from second bottom (Sunderland, who were the latest team to put Villa to the sword at the time of writing). Next season the lower divisions beckon, and for the Premier League obsessed media and the success driven glory hunters, we'll be another </div>
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fallen giant, following in the footsteps of Leeds United and Nottingham Forest, and disappearing from view. </div>
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Of course We've been down before, and we came back. If Mr Lerner managed to sell up and find us a very rich sugar daddy as a buyer that would help.</div>
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Keep the Faith.</div>
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Many of the gifs and pictures used in this blog were taken from a very amusing discussion thread in the forum <a href="http://www.heroesandvillains.info/forumv3/index.php">Heroes and Villains</a>.</div>
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J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-7752493604226960372015-12-03T02:31:00.000-08:002015-12-03T02:31:19.868-08:0010 Things I've Done (But You Probably Haven't)This is a reply to a blog by <a href="http://bill-purkayastha.blogspot.in/2015/01/ten-things-ive-done-but-you-probably.html?m=1">this gentleman</a>. I thought it was a splendid idea (if only for his excellent use of the word "thrice", which I also decided to repeat) so I set about thinking of some experiences that I thought were reasonably unique to myself. If you've had the same or similar to any one of these, I'll be checking dates and you can expect to hear from my solicitors in due course.<br />
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Only joking.<br />
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Or am I? <br />
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<u>1. Been Run Over by a Bus - Thrice</u></div>
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<a href="http://www.averagejoesblog.com/averagejoesblog.com/public_html/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/Double-Decker-Bus-Live-and-let-die-james-bond.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.averagejoesblog.com/averagejoesblog.com/public_html/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/Double-Decker-Bus-Live-and-let-die-james-bond.jpg" height="173" width="320" /></a></div>
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The first couple of bus related traumas were of a lighter natures (my feet can't speak so their view on it is not taken into account). For the first I one was crossing a bus station and a bus went over my foot. Intensely painful for a moment then it went away. <br />
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A couple of years later I was heading out of town to a training course in a hurry. I stepped into the road to avoid a pavement full of people and my foot got it again.<br />
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The third incident was a little more serious. I was running down the road in the middle of town - ironically intending to catch a bus - I ran into the middle of the road, this time to avoid a fork lift truck that was being directed into my path - and I was hit full on from behind by a bus that was coming up behind me. Fortunately the bus was slowing to a halt, or I guess I might not be here typing this. Nevertheless I was still knocked into the air, and sailed forward several feet before crashing painfully to the floor. <br />
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I'll never forget the guy who was directing the fork lift truck, clutching his heart with a grimace as he looked down to see if Iâd bought it. He needn't have worried too much though as I managed to get up, assure every one I was fine, including a frantic bus driver and a nearby policeman before shuffling off, still determined to get to work. Then the adrenaline wore off, the full extent of how much pain I was in became known to me, and I decided to have a long lie down.</div>
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<u>2. Due to Misadventure, Ended up Buck Naked â Twice</u></div>
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So I go to the zoo with a group of my fellow kids (this was when I was about 7). I was fascinated by all of the animals we saw at the zoo but some of the other kids were bored and impatient. They'd only come for one thing: they wanted to see the monkeys. I wanted to see the monkeys too, of course, but what about the crocodiles, the lions and tigers and the lizards and the insects and the bears? Nope. None of these attractions cut any ice with these kids. They were here for the monkeys.<br />
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So we got to the monkeys (well, more of a baboon actually. My memoryâs fuzzy but definitely more ape than monkey). See the monkey is agitated. The monkey is clearly not in the mood to be gawped at by a bunch of kids today. But what can the monkey do, it's in a cage and we're not.<br />
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Why are the kids running? Perhaps I should run too. Is the monkey throwing something at the kids? I wonder what it is.<br />
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Something hits the back of my neck. <br />
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I run.<br />
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Something hits me again. It is cold, wet and mushy, and it doesnât smell good.<br />
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Can you guess what the monkey was throwing? It was something he'd produced himself.<br />
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Rhymes with species.<br />
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We returned to my local park where the group was based. The kids returned home giggling. I waited for my parents to pick me up, wrapped in a towel, and nothing else.<br />
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Took me a few weeks to live that episode down. <br />
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A few months actually.<br />
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Okay a few years.<br />
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Fast forward many years after this unfortunate incident - to the point where I like to think Iâm passed that accidentally getting naked shit. In fact Iâm doing alright - I've got myself a job and my own place, and tomorrow Iâm going to a rock festival. So today Iâm having a shower (a last chance to feel completely clean for a few days) in the flat that I recently moved into. <br />
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But whatâs that? What's that sound? Is it someone on my doorstep? Is it a letter being delivered? Iâll go and investigate. <br />
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No need for a towel, Iâm only going to my doorstep and Iâll soon step back inside.<br />
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So here I am on my doorstep.<br />
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The door, that I'm not really used to yet, swings shut behind me, with a click. And I remember itâs one of those doors that only opens from the inside. <br />
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So there I am. Outside, without a key, or clothes or a towel. <br />
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In fact I havenât got anything at all, except my skin. And a feeling of utter stupidity, bewilderment and panic.<br />
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So what better time to introduce yourself to your new neighbour?<br />
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Who happens to be a lady?<br />
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The one consolation is it's very difficult to appear in any way threatening when you're standing on someone's doorstep trying to cover up your various bits, and my new neighbour, after a few moments of disorientation, took pity on me and allowed me to call a local locksmith so he could come over and break into my flat for me. <br />
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I would like to say this was the start of a beautiful friendship between me and my new neighbour, but a few months later she banged on my door in a rage over some loud music that was being played somewhere in our block of flats. She blamed me straight away for the noise, despite the fact it should have been patently obvious to her that no loud noises of such kind were coming from my apartment. In retaliation I was forced to allow my cat to attack her front door matt. Ah well.<br />
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That's enough getting naked capers for now. But we will return to the theme of locking myself out of my apartment!<br />
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<u>3. Had an Unfortunate Experience With an Earwig â Twice*</u></div>
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Earwigs eh? What do you do with them? I like insects but earwigs do try my patience. If it's not their legendary ability to climb inside your ear and eat your brain while you're sleeping, it's the fact that they fly and they're ugly little armoured f*ckers. Oh yeah, and they seem to have a fetish. With me.<br />
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So I was sitting on the bus going to school. I feel a tap on the shoulder. A girl says to me "there's an earwig in your hair."<br />
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"Oh yeah, pull the other one," I snort and turn away. But the boy sitting next to the girl stood up with the fascinated expression of an entomologist who was looking at a creepy crawly through a microscope, and said "she's right! I can see it! You'd better hold still..."<br />
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I did hold very still while the boy rummaged through my locks, as a crowd of fascinated bystanders gathered (I had hair in those days. Memories...). Then out of the corner of my eye I saw an earwig spill onto my shoulder, and I screamed like a girl. <br />
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When it fell to the floor I petulantly demanded the creature's execution. The school kids who surrounded me happily complied, and the eerie wig was squished. I feel a bit guilty about that thinking back but at the time I was convinced that justice had been served. Perhaps the earwig world at that moment decided that an act of vengeance was called for, because for me with earwigs, worse was to come.<br />
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Fast forward to the following Summer (or the Summer after that, not sure now) and I was in my back garden, drinking a cool fizzy drink on a hot day. I was drinking from one of those novelty straws which I really liked at the time. I loved the way you could watch the liquid make its way through the complex patterns of loops as it made its way towards your thirsty mouth. But that day I was finishing off my drink, so had ceased to pay attention to what may be passing through that novelty straw.<br />
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As I looked out into my sun drenched back garden, and awaited the slipping sounds that accompany a straw that is hoovering the last remnants of liquid from the bottom of my glass, I felt something relatively large entering my mouth, that felt strange against my tongue. My first instinct was that it was something like sugar or maybe a piece of fruit that had got mixed up with the drink, and to simply swallow it. <br />
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But then I noticed other sensations. Was that some kind of hard shell that was sitting on my tongue?<br />
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Did the object in question⌠just move?<br />
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With a horrible sick feeling rise up in the pit of my stomach, I spat with all my might. And it landed on the table, in front of me, glistening with my own saliva.<br />
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A large earwig. A large, living earwig. <br />
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Screaming like a girl (again) I hit out at the insect using the glass I'd just been drinking from. But I only managed a glancing blow and was soon forced to duck as the earwig opened its wings and made its escape, having completed its revenge for the death of its curious fellow beetle type thing.<br />
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It could have been worse I suppose. I could have swallowed.<br />
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<u>4. Ran a Marathon Carrying a Bandage</u></div>
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My joy at the prospect of taking part in my first London Marathon was tempered by the fact that I had what we in England call "a dodgy knee". I first noticed something was up when I felt something go in it as I was jumping over a fence one day (as you do), and as my marathon training intensified, and the big day got closer, so the pain in my knee area only increased.<br />
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But I was determined not to drop out of the marathon (as I had done the year before with a dodgy ankle). So what were my options? A knee support to protect my sensitive area! <br />
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And so, two days before the marathon, as I wandered round the London marathon exhibition, I chanced upon a purveyor of knee support equipment - and I purchased his most potent looking supporter of knees. If only I'd read up more on taking part in marathons. Particularly the bit where they say don't try any new or unfamiliar equipment on the day.<br />
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And yet as I lined up for the start my spirits were high. "Let's do this" I declared, as the long run got under way and I set off, admiring my knee that was strapped up like Tutankhamun as I did so.<br />
The crowds were cheering. The sun was in the sky. The swarm of runners that surrounded me were inspired.<br />
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And I was in agony.<br />
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For it looked like my knee support didn't want to give my knee much support. Quite the opposite in fact. <br />
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I ran; I slowed to a jog; I slowed further to a walk; then I limped. But it was no good: the pain did not recede. Finally I admitted defeat and removed my knee support, and began to carry it with me as I limped along. And the weather, as if in response, changed dramatically. It started to rain. And I continued to shuffle along in misery as Spiderman, that guy that always takes part in marathons dressed up as a large rhinoceros and various other runners dressed as novelty characters from film, screen and book overtook me.<br />
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I had reached my lowest point, and the best thing to do seemed to be to drop out and hope my knee would hold up better another day.<br />
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And yet I didn't give up. I kept on going. At mile 7 or 8 I realised I needed the toilet. But one look at the queues that stretched from various lavatories dotted throughout the course persuaded me that attempting to spend a penny was a pointless endeavour.<br />
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But even then I didn't give up. In fact, I gained speed, carrying my knee support as I caught up to Spiderman and overtook him back. Then I caught the guy that was dressed up as a rhino. I even overtook the Maasai Warriors as they jogged along carrying their spears and shields. At mile 23 I was greeted by the sound of the classic Elton John hit, "I'm still standing". Man, it felt so good to hear that song! And it was so perfect for that moment!<br />
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And finally, with the river Thames and the Houses of Parliament to my left, and a cheering throng to my right, I crossed the finish line! My knee was throbbing, my nipples were covered in blood, but I was one happy guy!<br />
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<u>5. Knocked on a Stranger's Door in a Rough Area to Ask for a Cigarette</u></div>
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As we learned from Bill's Blog (No. 5), acting on an impulse can be a great way to get what you want or get the best out of a particular moment. I know because I have been that impulsive person.<br />
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It comes from my somewhat unhealthy desire to have a cigarette when I'm extremely drunk. One night I was in Birmingham city centre on a night out, and I got extremely drunk. When it came time to stagger home, I decided buses, taxis and trains were for wimps, and that it was a great idea to talk the 6 or 7 miles back to my parentsâ house (where I was staying for the weekend) through some of the <a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2028208/Birmingham-riots-Looting-yobs-SHOT-police-helicopter.html">roughest areas of the city</a>. <br />
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Looking back that wasn't too healthy a thing to do either. <br />
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Anyway I was doing the one unhealthy thing when the desire to do the other unhealthy thing struck. <br />
But what could I do? There were no shops nearby (that I could see), I didn't have directions to find any shops and there wasn't a soul in sight. So I decided to go up to the nearest house and knock on the door. <br />
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"Have you got a cigarette I could borrow mate?" I asked the very tall, heavily built and startled Jamaican guy who answered the door. <br />
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"Uh... yeah", he replied, too surprised to do anything else. He passed me the ciggy and as I was using his lighter he asked "did you just knock on this door just as ask for a cigarette?"<br />
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I told him I had, and after a pause he saw the funny side. Good job too really.<br />
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<u>6. Nearly Burned Down Your House and Successfully Blamed the Incident on Your Sister</u><br />
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When I was a lad, I went through a short pyromaniac phase (as you do) and one day I'm feeding bits of newspaper into the gas fire in our living room in order to watch them burn. I graduate on to bigger bits of paper; then bigger. At length I'm feeding double spreads through the safety grill and then watching in satisfaction as the papers ignite and are engulfed in flames before being reduced to a few black, charred remains.<br />
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Then there's an accident. <br />
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I let one double spread ignite a little too close to the rest of the newspaper, which also catches fire. I panic and throw sheets of paper round the room â that are all on fire. The next thing I know Iâm surrounded by newspaper double spreads that are all burning noisily and angrily.<br />
<br />
And I realise Iâm about to burn my house down. <br />
<br />
All the while my little sister watches on, passively.<br />
<br />
Fortunately I have the presence of mind to grab a large cushion and run round the room, battering down the flames as I go. Within short order the crisis has passed. My mother, however, disturbed by the noise, enters into the room and is amazed to find me exhausted, cushion in hand, surrounded by large piles of ashes which cover the room. "What on Earth..."<br />
<br />
Again I think on my feet. "Vanessa!" I exclaim towards my startled little sister, "What are you doing?!"<br />
<br />
And so my sister gets the blame. Fortunately sheâs so young there is no real punishment meted out, so no harm done to anyone (ahem)! <br />
<br />
However if any relatives are reading with any memory of this incident - I confess.<br />
<br />
<br />
<u>7. Had John F Kennedy Airport Chasing Round on Your Behalf for No Good Reason</u><br />
<br />
So I'm waiting to fly black to Blighty from New York after failing to run the New York City Marathon due to contracting Swine flu. I have a few drinks to drown my sorrows and voila! Discover my debit card has disappeared from my pocket. Now I must have left it at that bar I had drinks at... the one on the other side of the airport. <br />
<br />
Cue panicked drunken complaining at the help desk, coupled with demands to be taken to the place where I dropped my debit card (I was at the departure lounge by now). <br />
<br />
The lady at the departure desk was very nice and called out a minibus to take me over to where I'd dropped my card. <br />
<br />
I waited. Impatiently. All the while the lady at the desk quietly gets on with her work (work that probably has nothing to do with MY predicament). How could she be so selfish??<br />
<br />
"Where's that bus! There isn't much time!" I drawled.<br />
<br />
"It's coming sir," she assured me (though I was not reassured at all). But not long after (though far too long for me in my drunken panic) the minibus arrives.<br />
<br />
Soon we were cruising over the tarmac of the airport, and I was enjoying the view of the aircraft that it afforded (though I was still panicking at the same time). "You were at the Irish bar you say?" asked the driver.<br />
<br />
"Yes! Yes! You must hurry!" I continued to urge, as I reached into a corner of my trouser pocket that I hadn't felt for a whileâŚ<br />
<br />
... and discovered my debit card.<br />
<br />
It would have been interesting to hear the driver's report afterwards.<br />
<br />
"Suddenly the English guy seemed to calm down quite a lot. Maybe he lost his beer buzz, I don't know."<br />
<br />
When we got to the Irish bar I told them it was just where I thought I'd left it.<br />
<br />
Fancy that. Heh.<br />
<br />
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<u>8. Star Gazed With a Fox</u></div>
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<a href="http://www.thefoxwebsite.net/images/sitting_fox1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.thefoxwebsite.net/images/sitting_fox1.jpg" /></a></div>
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It was a warm, mid-July evening, and as a very dark night fell, I strolled over to the park just over the road from where I lived at the time. A beautiful silence was all around me as I lay on my back in the soft grass and gazed at the sky, as, in the blackness above, pinpoints of light twinkled down at me across distances beyond imagining. I was there to watch a meteor shower that was due to occur that evening, and I had come to see if I could spot any of the cosmic rocks as they burned briefly in the atmosphere; a last moment of glory as their long journey through the stellar night finally came to a fiery end.<br />
<br />
How to spot a meteor: you concentrate on part of the sky - preferably as clear as possible. Then you let your mind wander as you focus on this patch of the firmament. Eventually you should start to notice them. They burn brightly, just for a second. Like a stellar firework display, created by the Universe itself. If you're watching the right meteor shower you may even see one every few seconds - and then you would count yourself lucky, as they can be a magnificent sight.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I lay there very still for a very long time, as it was a warm night, and gazing at the sky can have a very calming effect. I thought about comets, and meteors, and the Universe, and life and everything. As you do. I enjoyed the stillness of the moment.<br />
<br />
Eventually I looked up.<br />
<br />
There was a fox sitting next to me.<br />
<br />
I looked at the fox, startled, because there was a fox. <br />
<br />
The fox looked back at me, startled, because I was looking at it startled. <br />
<br />
I could kind of sense that it didn't get many humans lying in the middle of its park, so I guess it was curious.<br />
<br />
For a moment I was completely at a loss on how to proceed. I knew instinctively that the next thing I did would probably cause the fox to run away, and the moment would be lost. I chose to speak, trying to adopt a reassuring tone. "I'm just watching the shooting stars..."<br />
<br />
No good. It bolted.<br />
<br />
I mean you no harm! Never mind.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<u>9. Spent the Night Sleeping On a Park Bench Outside Your Flat Dressed for Jogging Because You locked Yourself Out</u></div>
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As told earlier (No. 2), I'm not bad at locking myself out of my flat. It's an unenviable skill but someone has to have it. And so one summer evening I did it again. This time, I did have clothes - but not many. What I mean by that is I'd managed to lock myself out when I'd gone for a run, so all I had on was a t shirt and shorts. </div>
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The time around the end of my run (7.30) and the time when it started getting really late (22.30) I spent walking/jogging between my flat the my landlord's house. I must have made the trip about 8 times (on top of the six mile run I'd done early in the evening, so I wasn't short of exercise that day). My landlord had already assisted me with this problem, once or twice, but this time he wasn't in, and, as the evening got later, and the temperature dropped, I realised I was on my own.<br />
<br />
The only thing I could do was find a bench over in the park where I met the fox (Mr Fox was nowhere in sight - mind you I probably didn't smell too good) and try and get some sleep as best I could.<br />
<br />
Pub closing time came and went, and lots of confused students pointed and laughed at me as I lay shivering.<br />
<br />
And lo! A security guard took interest (for they were digging up pipes in the park for some reason or other, and I guess they needed to keep the students away). "What are you doing?" he asked me.<br />
"I am sleeping on this park bench, for I have locked myself out," I replied.<br />
<br />
"Oh."<br />
<br />
"Why are you dressed in t-shirt and shorts?" he asked me.<br />
<br />
"I was jogging when I did it," I replied.<br />
<br />
"Oh."<br />
<br />
Eventually he lent me a fleece, which was handy because it had got very cold by this time. In fact it got so cold I had to abandon my park bench start walking laps of the park, through the night and into the grey dawn, because I couldn't keep still. The bright side of this it did mean I was on the doorstep of the Letting agents when they opened up first thing the next morning. How I must have looked to them by the time I couldn't say, but I got the key, let myself in and washed myself up just in time for work! Hurrah!<br />
<br />
Okay maybe I was in a bit late that day.<br />
<br />
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<u>10. Been chased Through a Railway Station By a Mad Lady Who Wants You to be Bombed</u></div>
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<a href="http://www.lifecontinuesafterdivorce.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/BagLadyPat2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.lifecontinuesafterdivorce.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/BagLadyPat2.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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So I was due at a meeting that I had to get to by train, and as the whistle blew, and the train set off, I realised I was going in the wrong direction. Don't you just hate it when that happens?<br />
<br />
The first place I could get off my train and then catch one going in the other direction was the picturesque town of Cheltenham Spa, with it's leafy suburbs, its green hills, and its madwoman who stood by the entrance to the station, proselytising about the coming apocalypse.<br />
<br />
And didn't she look like a mad lady, with her wild hair, worn grey overcoat, wild voice and wild eyes, as she stood on the corner, loudly heralding the end of the world, and telling everyone within hearing distance that their destiny was to perish in the resulting bloody carnage.<br />
<br />
At this point I should remind everyone of the golden rule: the best way to deal with a crazy person is not to attract the crazy person's attention. So what did I do?<br />
<br />
"Thanks for telling me!" I said in a bright but offhand manner as I passed her. This, of course was all the mad lady needed. Like a hapless fish, I had been caught on her ranting hook of crazed rhetoric, and what left my mouth as "Thanks for telling me." reached her ears as "I have a deep desire to be endlessly harangued and I challenge you to do so."<br />
<br />
"You," screeched mad lady as she latched on to me, "you're going to die!"<br />
<br />
"You're a ray of sunshine," I said with awkward false cheer as I speeded up my walking exponentially. But the lady was not going to be put off by my wit or my accelerated gait. "You're going to die!" she yelled as she walked next to me, "You're going to be bombed!"<br />
<br />
At this point I weighed up my options and decided to make a run for it. The passers-by were then treated to the spectacle of me sprinting across Cheltenham Spa Station forecourt with a crazy lady in hot pursuit, shouting imprecations of doom as she ran after me.<br />
<br />
I guess looking back it might have been wiser to just stand there and let her have her say, and after a bit she would probably have run out of curses and left me alone. But maybe at the back of my mind I was thinking "I wouldn't even be in this position if I'd caught a train going in the right sodding direction."<br />
<br />
Anyway, I saw a small newsagents coming up and thought maybe the crazy lady might hesitate to follow me in there. So I ducked in the little shop and my hopes were realised. Crazy lady halted, uncertain of what to do next, and appeared to settle on the decision to wait until I emerged from the shop.<br />
<br />
What followed after that was a tense stand-off, as Crazy lady waited, and I stood inside the shop perusing the celebrity tittle tattle, looking up occasionally to check whether she was still there. After a while she got bored and wandered away. Victory was mine!<br />
<br />
I even caught the last five minutes of the meeting I was meant to be going to. result!J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-90069895171270629462015-11-25T09:51:00.000-08:002015-11-25T10:15:48.503-08:00A Philosopher and His Horse<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Socrates went walking with his favourite horse</div>
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Horse asked "Where are we going?"</div>
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"To the river of course</div>
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You're going to get something </div>
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We all need from our youth</div>
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When you take a drink</div>
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From the waters of truth"</div>
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Soon they arrived at a barren empty shore</div>
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Horse asked "What do I do now?"</div>
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"Take a drink then get more</div>
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You'll get knowledge and widsom</div>
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And all that good stuff</div>
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That will arm you for the future</div>
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Because life can be tough"</div>
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The horse it stepped forward but then came to a stop</div>
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And said "I cannot drink from this"</div>
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"Well why on earth not??"</div>
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"The problem," said the horse</div>
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"And don't think me uncouth</div>
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But I have a question</div>
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Just what is truth?"</div>
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Socrates did wail and said "what will people think?</div>
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I've lead this horse to water</div>
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But I can't make him drink!"</div>
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said the horse "I've seen Star Wars films" </div>
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Both the old and the new</div>
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They say there are many truths</div>
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From a certain point of view"</div>
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Socrates did swear and he tore at his beard</div>
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"Lectured by a horse</div>
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Now that's bloody weird!</div>
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I'm going to leave you now</div>
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And amble over yonder</div>
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You've right done my head in</div>
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And I need to ponder"</div>
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<br /></div>
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Horse turns to audience and says "The moral of this tale</div>
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Never assume you can know it all</div>
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If you do you will fail</div>
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For every ending a start point</div>
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For every consequence a cause</div>
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This poem is now over</div>
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This is my truth, tell me yours"</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsoXts6O-AvZbihf0QnJNz31auv4uY3ZfcIC5jCn87xvk1smuJ-Et_eGV18V3l7KTawsD2r2Rv9z56lsfv2bVnvH7_21PN21g1SWgUMlpNmVKSerdW2XtCM5gD_ASaMJWZJvj6A_GqzYw/s1600/Horse+water.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsoXts6O-AvZbihf0QnJNz31auv4uY3ZfcIC5jCn87xvk1smuJ-Et_eGV18V3l7KTawsD2r2Rv9z56lsfv2bVnvH7_21PN21g1SWgUMlpNmVKSerdW2XtCM5gD_ASaMJWZJvj6A_GqzYw/s320/Horse+water.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-77785838314832968882015-07-20T05:31:00.000-07:002015-07-21T05:01:21.667-07:00From the River to the Sea Part Two<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Or</h3>
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<br />#ALotOfCyclingWillBeDoneByMe</h3>
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<a href="http://www.redspokes.co.uk/_images/main-images/the-big-ride-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.redspokes.co.uk/_images/main-images/the-big-ride-12.jpg" height="123" width="320" /></a></div>
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Around this time last Summer I was engaged in protests against the bombardment of Gaza in Palestine. And as part of these protests I wrote <a href="http://jeztasblogs.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/from-river-to-sea.html">this blog</a>. I went on marches, signed petitions, got into arguments with people, stopped buying certain products, the same kind of things that many other people did and are still doing (and will hopefully continue while the present, unjust circumstances remain for Palestine and its people).<br />
<br />
At the same time I tried to think of other ways how I could help.<br />
<br />
Then earlier this year I got an unexpected answer. I was invited by <a href="https://www.facebook.com/highaltitudecycling?fref=pb_friends">Mr Dermot Macward</a> to take part in this challenge:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.redspokes.co.uk/thebigride/">http://www.redspokes.co.uk/thebigride/</a><br />
<br />
A cycle ride from Edinburgh to London. The ride will begin on 1st August in Edinburgh and end on 9th August in London. In between I will cycle 435 miles (average 48 miles per day). The most grueling day of this "mission" will be day 2, which will be 74 miles of cycling and a 1570 meter climb (I should probably be having feelings of dread as I type that but fortunately I'm numb to it at the moment - see the next bit for why).<br />
<br />
Here's the full itinerary:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.redspokes.co.uk/thebigride/itinerary.php">http://www.redspokes.co.uk/thebigride/itinerary.php</a><br />
<br />
And now I'm in the middle of some hard training.<br />
<br />
Some very hard training.<br />
<br />
Kind of hurts to move at the minute.<br />
<br />
Actually it hurts when I don't move.<br />
<br />
But we're aiming to raise lots of money for the children of Gaza, we're hoping to raise the profile of the struggle of the people of Palestine for their own country, and we're hoping to bring forward the day when there will be peace and mutual recognition between Israel and Palestine.<br />
<br />
You can't accuse us of not being ambitious!<br />
<br />
I'm cycling very long distances during my weekends at the moment (I did 120 miles this weekend). I'm also running, doing <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bikram_Yoga">bikram yoga</a> (to stop my body getting too brittle) and doing lots and lots of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indoor_cycling">spin</a> classes (much thanks to the people at <a href="https://www.cyclebeat.co.uk/">Cyclebeat</a> in London who play good music while you flog yourself).<br />
<br />
What else can I say? As my cycle top says "Another World Is Possible"!<br />
<br />
Would you like to sponsor me? Of course you would! :)<br />
<br />
Here's the link:<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.justgiving.com/Jeremy-Parker">https://www.justgiving.com/Jeremy-Parker</a><br />
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Now I've blogged about why I'm doing it I guess I should blog about what it was like doing it! :-)<br />
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ďťż</div>
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ďťż</div>
J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-72350436476666264232015-04-30T14:22:00.001-07:002015-05-04T13:37:47.054-07:00The Occupy Rupert Murdoch Protest (Through My Eyes)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-bc9T2imSKxv51pS1GegrK6t3VQjx3i6Yu75mC6SGfR8cVD4e-HCk-wXxzeG10TxHxqRy_naYw0fC9hVjKzdyw5KlReUlE0ihO0NuudTO1aZlSF_npBFgvcKFu-GGP1XZ2Q_y63WlDOs/s1600/McCarthy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="McCarthy" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-bc9T2imSKxv51pS1GegrK6t3VQjx3i6Yu75mC6SGfR8cVD4e-HCk-wXxzeG10TxHxqRy_naYw0fC9hVjKzdyw5KlReUlE0ihO0NuudTO1aZlSF_npBFgvcKFu-GGP1XZ2Q_y63WlDOs/s1600/McCarthy.jpg" height="150" title="" width="200"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3hvSnvqyFbV2xh1GbewGoQWbgBVI1jBFi-oTCRWf5aM3faWVwW9yNXzIWQV5SqoRYiyW9HLuiwe8wlxysblGA-tGbteWWTM5pAEF5ZYhhHDXGUqWwyrMR1rpU0e4X_lqC5SxSXrkQrKY/s1600/Murdoch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Murdoch" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3hvSnvqyFbV2xh1GbewGoQWbgBVI1jBFi-oTCRWf5aM3faWVwW9yNXzIWQV5SqoRYiyW9HLuiwe8wlxysblGA-tGbteWWTM5pAEF5ZYhhHDXGUqWwyrMR1rpU0e4X_lqC5SxSXrkQrKY/s1600/Murdoch.jpg" height="130" title="" width="200"></a></div>
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Occupy Rupert Murdoch was an event that took place between the 23rd and the 29th of March 2015. It was an event that I only bore witness to a part of, but one that I am proud to say that I supported. It was also, in my opinion, long overdue. And it is my hope that it could be the beginning of something greater. Perhaps even something that will, in time, help to bring about greater justice and even healing to these islands. Hope springs eternal.<br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdtcc6DqZYC7mfwr6py7BexQCmGzLasnaNhnuDXzspZYHULfBK-k5d9zkhem6HN4yiDM705IA-6AevIBJJpkYVbh-QE2or6X-4WFFulSIVw3ewggYDLpvhGgsx9B_B-ppPALp2T8d337s/s1600/2015-03-23+18.49.36.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdtcc6DqZYC7mfwr6py7BexQCmGzLasnaNhnuDXzspZYHULfBK-k5d9zkhem6HN4yiDM705IA-6AevIBJJpkYVbh-QE2or6X-4WFFulSIVw3ewggYDLpvhGgsx9B_B-ppPALp2T8d337s/s1600/2015-03-23+18.49.36.jpg" height="320" width="181"></a></div>
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Rupert Murdoch, it seems to appear, is the epitome of everything that freedom and democracy are not. From his newspapers or TV channels that attempt to the twist the political agenda of whichever country they are operating in to suit Murdoch's personal agenda, to the intimidation of workers who wanted to form an independent union that could operate in the places of work that he lords it over; from the unashamed tax dodging operations that not only avoided being classed as illegal but actually conformed to the laws that he and his kind subverted for their own gain, to the demonisation of ordinary working people to make them appear to be the enemy, when in fact it is Murdoch himself who should be identified as such.<br>
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For myself his character is summed up by the ugly covers produced by his primary UK tabloid, the Sun: such as "Gotcha!", the eulogising of the murder of Argentinian sailors who posed no threat to the British blockade of the Falkland Islands during the war to reclaim that territory in the early 1980s, or the "Will the last person to leave Britain please turn the lights out (or to put it another way You'd Better Vote the Way I Tell You To)" before the 1992 General Election. Or the ugliest cover of all (for me), the one that screamed "The Truth", before going on to tell bare faced scurrilous lies about the conduct of the supporters who had suffered in the worst disaster that befell British football since the wars. For all these reasons and more I felt extremely strongly about this cause and knew I had to be part of it and bear witness. The fact that it was taking place within a few minutes walk of where I work made my attending of this event as easy as it was imperative.<br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-azjBpN5SlahdsnK46RfXzhDlykAuQicE7sHEphKjDPlgFIGn5fb7K6SYNYLHY-fElOo9BQMohd1dKBR-izjYmo4Mum-stmsqdQhrv3pCKBVMGWt1UkC7sE3HsIdzjeDSN6Zdv-l2cks/s1600/2015-03-24+18.51.05-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-azjBpN5SlahdsnK46RfXzhDlykAuQicE7sHEphKjDPlgFIGn5fb7K6SYNYLHY-fElOo9BQMohd1dKBR-izjYmo4Mum-stmsqdQhrv3pCKBVMGWt1UkC7sE3HsIdzjeDSN6Zdv-l2cks/s1600/2015-03-24+18.51.05-1.jpg" height="320" width="181"></a></div>
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With this in mind I arrived at the site (the protest was being held in the "valley" between <a href="https://www.londontheatredirect.com/images/Event/ViewFromTheShard/EventGallery-1561.jpg">the Shard and the News Building</a>, opposite London Bridge Station) on Monday evening at around 6.30 in the evening, full of curiosity at what I might find. At that point there weren't that many people there. It was a windy, cold and rainy evening, and I'd just missed the speaker who was due to address the crowd (<a href="http://shahrarali.net/">Shahrar Ali</a>, deputy leader of the Green Party). However I did pick up two important things from this first night's activity:<br>
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1) There is now a Code of Conduct that governs behaviour during any direct action that Occupies Spaces. This revolves around mutual respect, sobriety and non-violence towards your fellow occupiers, any observers whether they are sympathetic to your cause or not, and representatives of the authorities including the police. This code of conduct is very important I feel because ultimately, whatever "uniform" we may wear, we are all part of the "99 per cent" (i.e. the part of the population that does not comprise the elite/super rich/robber barons/choose - your own description). In this context we are united by what we have in common far more than anything that may divide us.<br>
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2) Occupy Rupert Murdoch have created <a href="http://occupythemedia.org.uk/page11.html">a rough list of suggestions</a> as to how the Press could be democratised and given true independence from monied interests and corporate advertising in order to give it some semblance of objectivity.<br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyZrr78Y8Fdc6M43BjAmSzj1-jk1i-5tBlbtjOtP1SKREz8ebqCpYcIhOB-k6P5Wk7kEhqN4Nq8rF_ER1PcoeHyNivzaYBw1QlCoRzxyi6Ks84weao2O9ls1g_fhTeGXwW0thcoT9nfN0/s1600/2015-03-23+19.20.28-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyZrr78Y8Fdc6M43BjAmSzj1-jk1i-5tBlbtjOtP1SKREz8ebqCpYcIhOB-k6P5Wk7kEhqN4Nq8rF_ER1PcoeHyNivzaYBw1QlCoRzxyi6Ks84weao2O9ls1g_fhTeGXwW0thcoT9nfN0/s1600/2015-03-23+19.20.28-2.jpg" height="181" width="320"></a></div>
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It was these two points that dominated our first assembly on that Monday night. The new "Independent" press framework was very much in its infancy at this stage and I'm glad to say I was able to contribute to the discussion on how its "rough edges" could be "smoothed". It was a very interesting and thought provoking discussion, and I was so absorbed in it, standing there in the wind and the rain, that I barely noticed that I was becoming ill.<br>
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This meant that, alas, I missed most of the subsequent days (aside from a quick "hello" on Tuesday when I dropped off some Jaffa Cakes for sustenance). When I went back for my next 'proper' visit on the Friday evening the wind and rain returned with me. But I did turn up in time to see <a href="https://www.opendemocracy.net/author/des-freedman">Des Freedman</a> do his thing, and experience a curious moment of synchronicity. I had been on the underground earlier that day reading <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flashman_(novel)">a book about "The Bully from Tom Brown's Schooldays"</a> and an organisation called "The Chartists" were mentioned. The Chartists were the first to put press freedom to the front of the agenda in British politics. This was the first time I had learned about about this movement, and in the book they were a bit of a confounded nuisance to the leading character (who is a professional upper class bounder). However I found their mention fascinating as I am very interested in the roots of what we would call socialism or left libertarianism, and the Charters appeared to be an important landmark in this history. Des Freedman addressed the Occupiers, and gave us a history lesson about... The Charters. It's funny how these coincidences come up.<br>
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Since I wasn't 100% yet, I had to leave after this address, but I swore that I would return the next day, the day when Occupy Rupert Murdoch would truly live up to its billing.<br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCV4yKD3PUJHGXaayyLdcOuqbnvoDIxVS_N7oYxAjhiImxHSQ4ZQ89pkWtShygIZgoCMlYFHfIGKDsdBdVSkPAVpIQ0Bs5o1ypDgxw8zWiK7GIGizXU1gnh6diA1FG89_bO75JZTYMAG0/s1600/2015-03-24+18.48.58.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCV4yKD3PUJHGXaayyLdcOuqbnvoDIxVS_N7oYxAjhiImxHSQ4ZQ89pkWtShygIZgoCMlYFHfIGKDsdBdVSkPAVpIQ0Bs5o1ypDgxw8zWiK7GIGizXU1gnh6diA1FG89_bO75JZTYMAG0/s1600/2015-03-24+18.48.58.jpg" height="320" width="181"></a></div>
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<u>28th March 2015</u></div>
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I missed the "People's Trial of Rupert Murdoch" which is a pity as it sounded very entertaining, but arrived in time to see the tail end of some musical entertainment. People were waiving Anarchy flags and there was a feeling of expectancy in the air. At this point the event was still taking place in the little public square opposite London Bridge and the Shard - but it wouldn't be for long. <br>
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After the music finished the Code of Conduct was read out again, and <a href="http://www.3acorns.co.uk/page11.html">Donnachadh McCarthy</a>, the organiser of the event, made sure that everyone who was to take part in the direct action that was about to ensue listened, understood, and agreed with this Code of Conduct. After this we marched towards the heart of Rupert Murdoch's demesne - our intention was to knock on the door, and, see if we could gain entry.<br>
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The number of security guards and police lining the doorway of the News Building let us know that our presence was not welcome.<br>
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However, the protesters were not to be denied, and while the police and security guards were distracted by the main body of protesters marching up to the front door, they didn't see a couple of "insurgents", including Donnachadh himself, sneaking in behind them, having scaled a wall and come at the entrance from a different direction. Once they did spot the "intruders" that had been stealing in a different way, the police and security guards moved to bar their entry and began to struggle with them. It was at this point that the main group (us) pushed against the line surrounding the News Building; and for a few moments pandemonium ensued.<br>
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I stood in front of the line of police and security guards, and saw that apart from a bit of pushing and shoving, no violence was taking place. A couple of people did look like they would lose their heads at one point, but they were quickly removed by the protest leaders, and the moments of chaos culminated in all of us peacefully sitting down, linking arms, and beginning to chant "Peace! Love! Respect!"<br>
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Things settled down somewhat now, and speeches began by the protesters, as the loudspeaker was passed from person to person. Poems were recited, songs were sang by one or two people or by all of us, and testimonies were exchanged, engendering a feeling of togetherness as the police looked on. I believe the non-violent tactics of the protest leaders were very effective that night; and also the fact that Donnachadh was at pains to stress that the police were also part of the "99%"and so our battle was not with them. And eventually at around midnight, the police withdrew from the scene of the protest, to much cheering and celebration from those that were taking part.<br>
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By now we were down to the "hard core" of activists who were prepared to stick it out for the night. <br>
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Two events broke up the night - first Russell Brand popped by to wish us well, and he turned out to be a very nice chap who knew his football. About an hour after that some guy appeared and started to (attempt) to hand out warnings (via a very unofficial and hastily assembled looking notice) that we were trespassing on private property. Nobody took the flyer that he was trying to hand out, and after having "Peace! Love! Respect" chanted at him continuously for a while, he skulked off.<br>
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I didn't really get any sleep. The wind howled through the skyscrapers that surrounded us, sometimes threatening to blow away the little tents that sat defiantly in the front of the mighty News Building. As morning dawned, I could see the workers being ushered into an alternative entrance to the building (we never pretended this was anything more than a symbolic protest).<br>
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And so my experience ended. They were still planning for another day's protest when I left them to it mid morning on 29th March. <br>
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So what did I learn from the experience of Occupy Rupert Murdoch? <br>
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I learned (and still am learning) about the truly damaged state of British democracy.<br>
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I learned that there are people of real courage and integrity prepared to stand up to the forces causing that damage.<br>
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I learned (and still am learning) that there is something we can all do to play our part in this struggle.<br>
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I learned that I have so much still to learn.<br>
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I met some very inspiring people during the brief time I spent protesting with them. And I didn't take pictures of any of them. Because I'm crap like that. However I did take a lot of pictures of banners! A selection of them can be seen with this blog.<br>
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I have taken two photographs from the Occupy Rupert Murdoch week records. I hope the good people who made it happen will not mind.<br>
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<u>Links</u></div>
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<a href="http://occupythemedia.org.uk/">http://occupythemedia.org.uk/</a> - The main website for the Occupy Rupert Murdoch Protest<br>
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<a href="http://www.theprostitutestate.co.uk/index.html">http://www.theprostitutestate.co.uk/index.html</a> - The book I'm currently reading, written by Occupy Rupert Murdoch organiser Donnachadh McCarthy. And an eye opener to be sure.<br>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/?_rdr#!/groups/610896625686974/?fref=ts">https://www.facebook.com/?_rdr#!/groups/610896625686974/?fref=ts</a> - Occupy the Media Billionaires. The Facebook space for the group for people willing to help out in the battle against the corporate interests that threaten our future.<br>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/1542806512652040/">https://www.facebook.com/events/1542806512652040/</a> - Occupy Democracy May Event - The struggle for real democracy continues. Get involved!<br>
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<br>J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-3255398811313685762014-11-17T08:50:00.000-08:002014-11-17T08:50:00.096-08:00Snake In My House<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://images2.layoutsparks.com/1/71746/snake-slither-poison-evil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://images2.layoutsparks.com/1/71746/snake-slither-poison-evil.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></div>
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There's a snake in my house</div>
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I've barricaded the door</div>
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I shiver in my room</div>
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Hear the slithers on the floor</div>
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Snake in my house</div>
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I don't want to be here</div>
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Poisonous fangs</div>
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Heart's stopped with fear</div>
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Its venomous kiss</div>
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Will send me to my doom</div>
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I dwell on this thought</div>
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I'm trapped in my room</div>
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<br /></div>
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There's a snake in my house</div>
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And it laid an egg</div>
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There's millions of young</div>
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I'm starting to beg</div>
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There's snakes in my room</div>
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The walls have turned black</div>
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They're looking for a meal</div>
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They see me as a snack</div>
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There's snakes on my body</div>
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There's fangs in my skin</div>
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I'm choking on scales</div>
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I'm torn limb from limb</div>
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They twisted and writhed</div>
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And pinned me to my bed</div>
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They ripped my insides out</div>
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And now I am dead</div>
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There's a snake in my house </div>
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That it claimed as its own</div>
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It'll come for you soon</div>
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When you're all alone</div>
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J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-70373861603836232242014-09-05T12:01:00.000-07:002014-09-06T08:17:10.558-07:00We Care a Lot<div>
<h3>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">Or </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Stories Behind the Ice Bucket Challenge</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br /></span></div>
</span><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Or</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br /></span></div>
</span><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Tahoma; text-align: -webkit-auto;">The Blog That Gets a Bit Scatological</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> Towards the End</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Not Very Pheasant</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> at All</span></span></h4>
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</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">It was early morning when the old van parked at a quiet layby next to a large field. The van was packed with tools for the purpose of fixing windows into new buildings at a construction site, and it also held three people whose purpose was to use those tools. That morning the driver of the van, a man in his 50s with craggy features, turned round to two younger men who accompanied him, and were still shaking off the effects of sleep. "There's always dead pheasants in this field," he told them, "Wait here!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">The young man who sat next to the driver was less than convinced this was a good idea. "Leave it Dad!" he responded irritably, "Let's just get to work." But his lack of enthusiasm was not noted, and the elder man opened the door to the old van and stepped out into the cold morning air. The third member of the party, Another young man with scruffy hair, continued to doze on the back seat. Soon his colleague joined him, and for a time the all was quiet in the little van, the only sound to be heard being the light snoring of the two manual labourers.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">The man in the front passengar's seat was called Matthew. He leaned against the window of the van, getting more comfortable and falling deeper into rest. He was abruptly shaken from that rest by a knock at the window against which he supported his head. Drowsily, Matthew turned round.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">And met the faces of two dead pheasents that were pressed into the other side of the glass. Between the two dead animals, Matt's father grinned at him, with an expression that said "what about these then?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">Matthew's shocked scream echoed through the little van.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">Followed shortly by the helpless laughter of his friend who sat at the back of the van.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">The guy who was laughing was me. The guy that was in shock was my friend Matthew. And the guy with the pheasents was his father, Desmond. This is my favourite story about him, though far from the only one.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">Des Hall was what you could be termed a bloke about town. What we in Britain would term a "geezer". He liked a beer or two; he liked to have a bet. He was always ready with a joke, and everybody knew and liked him. Des owned his own window fixing business that I sometimes did some labouring for, and while Matthew and me toiled, Des could usually be found in the bookies. But we didn't complain. Hold on, what am I talking about?! We complained vociferously, our long rants peppered with swear words! But it made little difference, and looking back I hold no bitterness; just happy memories.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">It was all this that made it very difficult when Des left us. Because he was diagnosed with Motor Neuron Disease: and over the space of a year or two, Desmond's wife, and son, and everyone else he knew watched helplessly as this disease ravaged his body. And I was there to offer what crumbs of comfort I could to Matthew the night he watched his Father pass away.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">I thought it would be appropriate to share this story, now, as we are in the back end of the craze of the "ice bucket challenge". The merits of the challenge itself, and the charities that it was promoting, have been discussed at length. And I do think it is good to add stories like these - stories of the victims of the disease that the Ice Bucket Challenge is ostensibly aiding in the fight against. Indeed, I will happily say that the best thing about this phenomenon (to me) is that it has given me the opportunity to talk about Des, and remember him in a blog.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">I have seen lots of cynicism accompany this craze, and I don't know whether the the cynical view is the correct one, because none of us ultimately know how much good will have been done by the money raised. Will it speed our way to a cure? If a cure is found, will we be able to quantify how much the Ice Bucket Challenge contributed towards it? I don't know. What is certain is that this time next year there will be a different craze, a different gimmick, to have an opinion about. A different charity craze tumbleweed will be blowing through the social media streets of our Global Village, and we'll either be joining in with, or complaining about that one instead. It goes on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">An argument that is often raised whenever someobody makes a stand, or joins in with a stand someone else is making, or some other people are making, is "why this cause. Why do you campaign for Palestine/raise money for A.L.M. charities/support wind energy/want to see Charles Bronson released from prison? Why that cause and not this one? Or this one? Or all these others?" And it is a question that bugs you if you can't find a ready answer. It's like you're sailing in the sea of shit that is life. And though this shitty sea is endless, you've found yourself looking down, and declaring "I don't like this particular turd! This turd offends me!" Now explain yourself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">Perhaps the best generalised explanation that can be given is this: that is it only by standing for something that we can stop the waters of that 'sea' from closing above our heads. Life is too big to combat all the wrongs that are contained within it: Corruptions of justice, and harm that is done to people and animals everywhere during every minute of every day. So somewhere at some point we have to take a stand - or we surrender to apathy and cynicism - the twin horsemen of shitness. And then we might as well just stop living.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">In conclusion - it's good to find your own offensive turd.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">Or if you can multi-task, you may have offensive turds! Marvellous.</span><br />
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J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-79426799955781413982014-08-18T09:37:00.001-07:002014-08-18T09:41:41.076-07:00Right Here, Right Now<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 15px; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; widows: 2;">All was green and silver as the mists of dawn lay upon the young planet; soaking the unspoilt, preternatural forests with its cleansing dew. All was silence. For now the vast woods that covered the Earth were almost the only life forms that occupied the landmasses of that world - a world separated from our own by a gulf of time that stretches beyond the reach of imagination. No birdsong greeted the rising of the sun; no predator growled; no herbivore lowed; and aside from the odd, very brief buzzing sound that could only have been caught by the most alert, the serenity of the forests was complete.</span></div>
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But a profound change was at hand.</div>
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It came from the shore of a mist shrouded lake, where two silver bodied, scaly, aquatic animals were even now dragging themselves forward into an environment that was hitherto entirely alien to them. As they pulled themselves forward into an increasingly landlocked world to which their frames looked so ill suited, they gasped quietly, their mouths and the slits on the side of their bodies opening and closing with a frantic cadence, until one of them sagged with exhaustion.</div>
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"It's no good Dave," gasped the creature, sinking to the ground as it spoke, "I'm on my last fins. Go on without me... I'll just slow you down..."</div>
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"No, no Fred, I'm not leaving you behind," replied the other animal in an anxious but determined tone. "You can do it," Dave gasped with as much encouragement as he could muster, "Baby steps mate, baby steps."</div>
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But Fred sank to the floor and listed to the side, his inhalations growing more shallow. "Can't... breathe... "</div>
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"Fred!" called out Dave in alarm as he laboured to drag his body towards his suffering friend, his silver mass moving awkwardly over the moss and soil that comprised the floor of the viridescent woodland.</div>
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"I'm going to the big ocean in the sky..." groaned Fred, "they say it's got plankton as big as trilobites there...". Fred's voice was fading as his eyes glazed over.</div>
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"Fred!" said Dave, who finally reached his stricken comrade and began nudging Fred's scales with his marine snout, "you've got to adapt mate! You've got to evolve!"</div>
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There was no response. "Fred!" Pleaded Dave. Again nothing. But Dave was still not ready to give up.</div>
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"Fred!" he called out. "Don't surrender now! Play the game of life! This is the moment of our true testing! The future is now! So evolve! Evolve! Breathe with me!"</div>
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The was a moment's silence. Fate hung in the balance. Dave, who was himself getting used to the rarefied atmosphere of this mist filled tree lined terrestrial wonderland, held his newly adapted breath.</div>
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A minute passed.</div>
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Dave battled against despair. He was weak. He was tired. He was lost in an alien world. And soon, it seemed, he would be completely -</div>
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Fred gasped and came to life like an automaton that had just been plugged into the power. </div>
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"Fred! You did it! You evolved!" declared an ecstatic Dave.</div>
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Perhaps it was a trick of the misty light that hung over that prehistoric woodland, but it almost it seemed as if Fred's eyes were widened in amazement as he felt his gills begin to convert the new air that slipped through his bloodstream. At the same time he felt his stabilizing fins gain strength as they planted themselves more solidly in the soil of Terra Firma. "I wouldn't have credited it Dave," he mused in wonder, "but I did adapt."</div>
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"You did," agreed Dave, who felt the irresistible urge to make a speech to mark this fateful moment. "We have crossed the rubicon Fred," proclaimed the no longer strictly aquatic animal to his fellow mutated comrade, "and we have engendered a new phase in existence for life on this blue/green orb. New lands await our progeny, and who knows, maybe one day our descendants will even take to the skies. And it all started right here; right now; with us at the vanguard of natural selection. Truly, I feel the hand of history upon what may someday become my shoulder."</div>
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Fred turned himself in Dave's direction, an impressed look almost alighting itself on his expressionless features. "Cor," he intoned, "you aren't half clever Dave. I don't understand half of what you say I've got to admit, but I know it must be very wise. A fish among fish, that's what I call you."</div>
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"Hmmm", Dave responded, deep in thought. He looked up at the trees that rose up from the miasma that surrounded him and his friend that morning; these trees that reached their boughs towards the deep blue infinity above. He had caught glimpses of this sky from beneath the ocean's surface, but now he saw the full extent of its majesty, and he realised how much more there was of this Universe to explore. And he realised at that moment that however far he travelled, he would only ever be at the beginning. "You know, I don't feel like a fish any more," he decided, "I feel like we've blurred the boundaries between species ya know. I don't even know what you might call us now. I feel, I don't know... ambiguous..."</div>
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"Ambiguous;" Fred repeated admiringly, "a new breed: on land or in water. Amazing."</div>
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"Ha! Or something that sounds like that," agreed Dave. "You know," he continued, encouraged by Fred's appreciation, "it would be great if we had some kind of implement or colourful sign that we could plant, to let all the creatures know that we were here first, and that this land was ours, claimed for the Coelacanth Nation!"</div>
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"Aye!" Fred exclaimed, "The Coelacanth Nation!"</div>
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"The Coelacanth Nation!" they exclaimed together.</div>
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"You see at this point it would be good to have some kind of, I don't know, implements that we could clash together, to seal the deal," speculated Dave enthusiastically. "Some kind of vessel that holds food maybe..."</div>
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But this was a step too far for Fred. "Alright Dave, you're sounding a bit weird now," he complained.</div>
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"Yeah, alright, sorry about that," conceded Dave.</div>
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"There's a thin line between genius and madness, that's what they say," Fred pontificated. </div>
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The intrepid pair pressed on with their adventure.</div>
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***</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK-G61Orzt8uwPOFlAClp5vWDNG277NF2JaauZU9W0OGtBCt-fDf6Vp2uEKaTm89wNU0DU2TNF_gcCXJ3jJZgNdwWCOYj8RjVyzMSr_LQ1egjkYL9YJJ-hOFG6GcGR_FHM_M5OyxUBX04/s1600/Fred+and+Dave+the+Beetles.gif" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: auto; widows: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK-G61Orzt8uwPOFlAClp5vWDNG277NF2JaauZU9W0OGtBCt-fDf6Vp2uEKaTm89wNU0DU2TNF_gcCXJ3jJZgNdwWCOYj8RjVyzMSr_LQ1egjkYL9YJJ-hOFG6GcGR_FHM_M5OyxUBX04/s1600/Fred+and+Dave+the+Beetles.gif" height="161" width="320" /></a></div>
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Across the clearing, two beetles watched the activities of the Coelacanths. They were both large by the standards of their species, and both sported a smooth, round body with a hard, orange and black shining carapace that housed a pair of insect wings. "Well," said one of them in a disgruntled tone, as its antenna probed the air before it, "this is a how do you do indeed, eh Dave?"</div>
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"Indeed Fred," agreed Dave. "What on Earth do you think those things are?"</div>
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"Dunno," replied Fred, "but they certainly look a bit fishy."</div>
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"Do they?" asked Dave ruefully, "I can hardly think of anything I'm so hungry. Do reckon we could eat them?"</div>
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"Weell", sniffed Fred, "possibly. But I don't think they'd like it. And they're a lot bigger than we are."</div>
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"Typical," Dave said mournfully, his antenna drooping in submission, "no food and now we're getting invaded by sea monsters! Save me from these interesting times! Where will it end, eh Fred? When will it end?"</div>
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"Oh, I don't know, maybe things won't be so bad..." said Fred wistfully. With that he turned away from his fellow beetle and stared into the distance. "Because I have had a dream!" he declared.</div>
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"Here we go," moaned Dave.</div>
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Fred was unabashed by his friend's cynicism. "Yes I had a dream!" he said again. "I dreamed of creatures: huge creatures, as big as the tallest trees!</div>
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"And such wondrous defecations did they produce!" Fred declaimed. "Brown fragrant mountains speckled the great plains of Earth! And did we eat the waste! And did we lay our eggs in the waste! And did we rear our young with the waste! And did we build our homes from the waste! All these things we did and more! Man, it was the shit!"</div>
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"You've been eating those weird berries again haven't you?" said Dave sharply.</div>
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"I found a big bush full of them," said Fred, in a self-satisfied tone.</div>
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"Lead the way then."</div>
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<br /></div>
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"Right you are."</div>
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And so it was that while Dave and Fred moved forward into a brave new phase of existence, pushing forward the boundaries of evolution, Fred and Dave were going to get stoned.</div>
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J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-73949277857239582642014-07-29T13:26:00.001-07:002015-07-15T06:59:48.682-07:00From the River to the Sea<h3>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Or</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Why #ISupportPalestine</div>
</h3>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb0e2shm6rlyts52SFkCSuP_CZBRsm-waaom_gjyw7BOjld4mcOYU4n860zs1q-crx5qeUngsOnSypCtirP1kVSRv3lPQbx9c0POWzWRMmoVlbJyYvdcq-Bvkipn9BoJC86AG-4VnKtBg/s1600/Gaza+Now.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb0e2shm6rlyts52SFkCSuP_CZBRsm-waaom_gjyw7BOjld4mcOYU4n860zs1q-crx5qeUngsOnSypCtirP1kVSRv3lPQbx9c0POWzWRMmoVlbJyYvdcq-Bvkipn9BoJC86AG-4VnKtBg/s1600/Gaza+Now.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>The Gaza Strip</i></div>
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One of the most effecting films I've ever seen is the brutal, black and white and brilliantly heart rending Schindler's List - a harrowing account of Nazi atrocities during the Second World War Holocaust, and one brave man who did what he could to help. One of the settings of the film is the Jewish ghetto of Krakow, in Poland. Many attrocities and degredations are visited upon this ghetto, which are terrible to behold, and never has man's inhumanity to man been more powerfully depicted on the silver screen. If you're one of the many people who have seen this film yourself you'll know what I mean.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKO_6x_FhYrlUuUUnYqFm5mgflLBF_S5jmLjoKA1MbRFrlzCK_dsC5gszyTwo7mg3hfYoBfixevi8WCviEZ3utTpCTBPz341ajPLoOSJbpEUJ7AYpC1_BHYv4oBo9jJ5WacTtHQwqjvUM/s1600/Girl+in+red+coat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKO_6x_FhYrlUuUUnYqFm5mgflLBF_S5jmLjoKA1MbRFrlzCK_dsC5gszyTwo7mg3hfYoBfixevi8WCviEZ3utTpCTBPz341ajPLoOSJbpEUJ7AYpC1_BHYv4oBo9jJ5WacTtHQwqjvUM/s1600/Girl+in+red+coat.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Thinking back to the way the people of Krakow suffered, trapped in that dismal place with nowhere to escape to, I have a question: what would you have thought if some of the Jews of Krakow had assembled, or gained access to, a rudimentary rocket launcher? And had then had begun launching rockets in the general direction of the German controlled areas of Poland?<br />
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Perhaps you would think them stupid, because of the retribution they would suffer, and the possibility that they might kill some of their own with their primitive, directionless technology? Perhaps you would have thought their cause hopeless, surrounded as they were on all sides by a much greater force?<br />
<br />
But would you think them evil? Would you consider them terrorists?<br />
<br />
Now let's fast forward to the present - to the Palestinian ghetto of Gaza. It was Labour peer Lord John Prescott (I'm sure he'd agree that calling him by that title is a bit weird considering he's a very down to earth Northerner, but I digress) who <a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/middle-east/israelgaza-conflict-john-prescott-condemns-bombardment-of-palestine-a-war-crime-9631052.html">censured Israel</a> for acting as âjudge, jury and executionerâ in its quest to mute Hamas âterrorists,â turning Gaza into what he says is a âconcentration camp.â<br />
<br />
He also said that the Nazi Holocaust should have given the Jewish people of Israel âa unique sense of perspective and empathy with the victims of a ghettoâ.<br />
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Is he right or wrong?<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/voices/comment/theres-nothing-new-about-conflating-criticism-of-israel-with-antisemitism-9629803.html">Like 85% of my countrymen</a>, I've come to the conclusion that he is correct.<br />
<br />
Because it is Israel that is now the occupying power, in Gaza and in the West Bank. Because of its vastly superior weaponry, which should bring with it greater responsibility for seeking a peaceful solution, and the for huge difference in the respective number of casualties on both sides - over 1000 deaths (and climbing) on the Palestinian side compared to less than 60 on the Israeli side at the time of writing (though I realise even one death is one too many). <br />
<br />
So there is my opinion. I have chosen a 'side'. I have chosen to support the people of Palestine.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMNe2DXBwzSFEyTF9N_G8vGpiYudd1oQiswldJJEpMKyNTDVwV2EeIgQCLwxZ8VxSVuTz4TM7pOviWfoPfTC6Rz_rOFUArI7j_a4I9n2qYER2B2rWHkPidxCEflWQPQIRAG4O2Ek6LaQg/s1600/Roger+Waters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMNe2DXBwzSFEyTF9N_G8vGpiYudd1oQiswldJJEpMKyNTDVwV2EeIgQCLwxZ8VxSVuTz4TM7pOviWfoPfTC6Rz_rOFUArI7j_a4I9n2qYER2B2rWHkPidxCEflWQPQIRAG4O2Ek6LaQg/s1600/Roger+Waters.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Does this conclusion make me antisemitic? <br />
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It is Roger Waters, ex of Pink Floyd, who I believe <a href="http://www.sott.net/article/281831-Former-Pink-Floyd-frontman-sparks-fury-by-accurately-comparing-Israelis-to-Nazis">answered this charge very well</a>:<br />
<br />
"I will say this: I have nothing against Jews or Israelis, and I am not antisemitic. I deplore the policies of the Israeli government in the occupied territories and Gaza. They are immoral, inhuman and illegal. I will continue my non-violent protests as long as the government of Israel continues with these policies."<br />
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I will go further than this and voice my disquiet over <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/religion/10983417/Gaza-conflict-As-a-British-Jew-I-am-now-scared-to-talk-about-Israel-and-Gaza.html">other developments that have reached me</a>:<br />
<br />
"... reports about gangs of Muslims chanting 'death to Jews' on the streets of France, and attacking synagogues and setting fire to Jewish-owned stores. Eighteen people were subsequently arrested in the suburb of Sarcelles, just outside Paris, where this particular outpouring of violence happened. The stunned local mayor says the Jewish community is now living in fear.<br />
Anti-Semitism is on the rise in Germany, too. In Essen, 14 people have just been arrested, accused of plotting an attack on a synagogue. Protesters at a rally in Berlin turned on two Israeli tourists (identifiable by the manâs skull-cap) so viciously that they had to be protected by the police. The cityâs authorities have also had to ban pro-Gaza protesters from chanting anti-Semitic slogans and are investigating a sermon last week by Abu Bilal Ismail calling on worshippers at Berlinâs Al-Nur mosque to murder Jews. Jews, not Israelis."<br />
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I absolutely reject and abhor this kind of virulent hatred, just as I abhor the act of a suicide bomber boarding an Israeli school bus, or an Israeli tank or bomber targeting a Palestinian school or hospital, or an Israeli missile slaughtering Palestinian boys playing football on a beach. <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Naama Abu al-Foul - a 2 year old Palestinian girl</i></div>
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Perhaps most distressing of all is the seemingly insurmountable barrier that seperates those on both sides of this. We are seperated by ideology, by race by religion and by history. Sometimes even the hint of sympathy for the 'other side' can provoke the most extreme reponses, and I was recently told I needed an "exorcism to drive out whatever evil is possessing my soul"!<br />
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But I welcome the courage and the grace of the people like the Palestinian doctor, Izzeldin Abuelaish, who lost half of his family to this conflict, but <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/world/2011/jan/16/gaza-doctor-izzeldin-abuelaish-interview">chose to forgive</a> when it would have been so easy not to. If someone like him can let go of his anger, after what he and his family have been through, then there is always hope, even in the darkest times. And right now, <a href="http://youtu.be/ACgwr2Nj_GQ">things are very dark indeed</a>.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib6YFPGFNCzFwcZ-6aq59KYE-NLXlNZ2VOLK2L5PHMPDtxWjSJZ7wJ7qw5zDjt-RoQupKz3EURjoFT59yUv9kZSSD6a24nWD2iGNL4QeUjCdWlZPcFxaBTujHOsIuUA-2Yw_29Hph_5Ls/s1600/Izzeldin+Abuelaish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="193" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib6YFPGFNCzFwcZ-6aq59KYE-NLXlNZ2VOLK2L5PHMPDtxWjSJZ7wJ7qw5zDjt-RoQupKz3EURjoFT59yUv9kZSSD6a24nWD2iGNL4QeUjCdWlZPcFxaBTujHOsIuUA-2Yw_29Hph_5Ls/s1600/Izzeldin+Abuelaish.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
Almost exactly one hundred years ago, the First World War began. What followed was an unprecedented slaughter that lasted more than 4 years and left 37 million people dead. I sometimes wonder if we will ever learn anything. But as I stated, in the darkest hour, they say, there is always hope. Maybe.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/J7ErrZ-ipoE?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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A letter to UK Prime Minister @David_Cameron calling for sanctions to halt Israel's attacks on #Gaza - <a href="http://act.palestinecampaign.org/petition/camerongaza">http://act.palestinecampaign.org/petition/camerongaza</a><br />
<br />
Petition: Call on the British government to work towards a ceasefire in Gaza - <a href="https://campaign.actionaid.org.uk/page/speakout/Gaza?subsource=ACT1407GAZ&source=SSS">https://campaign.actionaid.org.uk/page/speakout/Gaza?subsource=ACT1407GAZ&source=SSS</a><br />
<br />
Petition: call on the UN Secretary General to do all he can to put a ceasefire in place. - See more at: <a href="http://www.savethechildren.org.uk/stop-killing-children-gaza-israel?utm_campaign=gaza&utm_medium=fb&utm_source=gazapdfb#sthash.4TrKPf0X.dpuf">http://www.savethechildren.org.uk/stop-killing-children-gaza-israel?utm_campaign=gaza&utm_medium=fb&utm_source=gazapdfb#sthash.4TrKPf0X.dpuf</a>J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-73639650766002060182014-07-08T12:59:00.000-07:002014-07-08T13:05:20.270-07:00Strange Animal Hospital<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAd88vjg01Meps55npbvWwMHTV-Ygj1gT_lT8tdNKLfkbMKTGtghsa6RRBaAWHICc_Gd1InNWhj1alQ5voKYdbW-wZ5Vd0im8l_pykEiERn_m6w1Co4liMx6fKIpS6DYs05zh0dWl5TGY/s1600/hedgehog-feeding_1659883i.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAd88vjg01Meps55npbvWwMHTV-Ygj1gT_lT8tdNKLfkbMKTGtghsa6RRBaAWHICc_Gd1InNWhj1alQ5voKYdbW-wZ5Vd0im8l_pykEiERn_m6w1Co4liMx6fKIpS6DYs05zh0dWl5TGY/s1600/hedgehog-feeding_1659883i.jpg" height="211" width="320" /></a></div>
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My heart is straining give me help please - my name? Well, it's Gerry the Gnu</div>
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My leg may need amputating I'm a bear and my cousin is Winnie the Pooh</div>
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We've got four stag beetles with appendicitis called John, Paul, Ringo & George</div>
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And a giraffe who took a tumble when she went out for a stroll and fell into a gorge</div>
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This is a Strange Animal Hospital</div>
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Check your expectations in at the door</div>
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There's hamsters in ward B, Manatees in ward D</div>
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And in ward E a there's a herd of wild boar</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_mBtV9XmNgIPLfubNBFmHaKRPP2FksBxSj_rQDwWX9s8DtFUQG1BYxwU2FT3XjXoIt0mrf75q-J5v7H0PpiyiG-fbZ7oudXInFwO5dtg0lqnTynVwGsHmd0o-hiU62KyyeImwo1ByiX0/s1600/snake+vet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_mBtV9XmNgIPLfubNBFmHaKRPP2FksBxSj_rQDwWX9s8DtFUQG1BYxwU2FT3XjXoIt0mrf75q-J5v7H0PpiyiG-fbZ7oudXInFwO5dtg0lqnTynVwGsHmd0o-hiU62KyyeImwo1ByiX0/s1600/snake+vet.jpg" height="320" width="218" /></a></div>
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There's a mole from a hole with some coal who's convinced that he's got Ebola disease</div>
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A sea lion called Brian who'd feel fine if you would just take his tonsils out please</div>
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There's a horse who is Norse who gets trouble and as a result needs incontinence pants</div>
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A mosquito who drank a Mojito and got alcoholic poisoning when he was in France</div>
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This is a Strange Animal Hospital</div>
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Where our dedication will go that extra mile</div>
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There's snails in ward A, slugs in ward J</div>
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In ward K there's a Nile crocodile</div>
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Strange Animal Hospital - we'll jump in the water to care for a poorly shark</div>
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Strange Animal Hospital - We'll teach spiders to spin webs and bats to see in the dark</div>
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Strange Animal Hospital - where if its necessary we will treat ant eater's butts</div>
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Strange Animal Hospital - where we'll go out of our way to cure a badger's nuts</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4sAqkGOC42jlg1LjUaNz7fM7LsEtIGUa4x2ws7bCX2PC7bqR_Vs-tPRoSjGyoUnK-BOHB66J4xpOHQGDJFTTzBoJmlM_wG4AuUPMZ35E9j0GTvjK-mbbityvzAeGe13QlkQ59d5kevPs/s1600/giraffe-in-hospital-bed.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4sAqkGOC42jlg1LjUaNz7fM7LsEtIGUa4x2ws7bCX2PC7bqR_Vs-tPRoSjGyoUnK-BOHB66J4xpOHQGDJFTTzBoJmlM_wG4AuUPMZ35E9j0GTvjK-mbbityvzAeGe13QlkQ59d5kevPs/s1600/giraffe-in-hospital-bed.png" height="257" width="320" /></a></div>
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Break it down</div>
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*Beat box*</div>
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Ah yeah </div>
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Emergency </div>
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There's some sick creatures out there</div>
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What are you? A cockatoo? </div>
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Instead of feathers you're growing hair?!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijFOAZS5KmPOqllgia9gStQIhQ2yiu72R68AJmlKjeDMcPfwyxBRmG9rUGBAIwNb8HFCkWV2ToT8HTRM_5ypXE60goUiJ6Rc0x4Ah1H0-PcK9ALzZyqL9a_wAlVNZXOGyyMfRbisLm3BU/s1600/1385520_river-shark_u4otpkuoohegc34cxym6cgqbe3ncurxrbvj6lwuht2ya6mzmafma_610x457.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijFOAZS5KmPOqllgia9gStQIhQ2yiu72R68AJmlKjeDMcPfwyxBRmG9rUGBAIwNb8HFCkWV2ToT8HTRM_5ypXE60goUiJ6Rc0x4Ah1H0-PcK9ALzZyqL9a_wAlVNZXOGyyMfRbisLm3BU/s1600/1385520_river-shark_u4otpkuoohegc34cxym6cgqbe3ncurxrbvj6lwuht2ya6mzmafma_610x457.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></div>
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A Hawk and a Sloth cure them both one's got rabies the other one's got yuppie flu</div>
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How now cow there's no row emanating from you because you've lost the power to say moo</div>
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A lizard got lost in a blizzard one night and now has a gizzard with frost bite</div>
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A Kookaburra is crying, a koala has a cold, and we need to bandage a red kite</div>
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This is a Strange Animal Hospital</div>
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We save lives and we don't keep the score</div>
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There's marmosets in ward P, donkeys in ward T</div>
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In ward V Portuguese man o' war</div>
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This is a Strange Animal Hospital</div>
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Won't you visit us one day</div>
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The flies will be friendly, the whales will bid welcome</div>
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The kangaroos will wish you g'day!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbNhXqvBN-oEkuPASA2hzvhtIJT78cdWLwxcwNn_6AcEsSvFbmQJpGWIUQDvFy5kcd7K0dENCZLxjfiUSPUK2zSC5WGdUiHSaI8dLTaCrR4nRoUg0cbZVSytCsOU_uZHjD0PNIAmDvSKU/s1600/Deviant+Art.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbNhXqvBN-oEkuPASA2hzvhtIJT78cdWLwxcwNn_6AcEsSvFbmQJpGWIUQDvFy5kcd7K0dENCZLxjfiUSPUK2zSC5WGdUiHSaI8dLTaCrR4nRoUg0cbZVSytCsOU_uZHjD0PNIAmDvSKU/s1600/Deviant+Art.jpg" height="254" width="320" /></a></div>
J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-47269424909733886012014-06-18T13:44:00.000-07:002014-06-19T15:55:28.989-07:00The Landscape is Changing?<div style="text-align: center;">
<h3>
Or</h3>
<h3>
<br />My Take on the Rise of UKIP</h3>
</div>
On Thursday 22nd of May 2014 an historic election was held in in the United Kingdom. Of course there was a possibility of it being historical anyway, whatever the outcome, because it may yet prove to be <a href="http://www.scotreferendum.com/">the final election to be held in the UK in its present form</a>. But the outcome was, as it turns out, an electoral "earthquake". <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_Kingdom_general_election,_1857">For the first time since 1857</a> an election was won in Great Britain by a party that was not Labour, or Conservative or Liberal. The winners, instead were the motley bunch of "<a href="http://www.lbc.co.uk/david-cameron-ukip-fruitcakes-and-loonies-63456">fruitcakes, loonies and closet racists</a>" that call themselves the United Kingdom Independence Party. As a result Labour are long of face, the Tories are terrified, and the Liberal Democrats are decimated. And all the major parties ask themselves "<a href="http://www.parliament.uk/about/how/elections-and-voting/general/general-election-timetable-2015/">what will this mean in 2015?</a>"<br />
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There has been (and will be) much analysis over why UKIP were successful, but here's some of my thoughts on the subject.<br />
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<u>The Financial Crisis of the Late Naughties</u><br />
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This is the most often blamed cause of the rise of extremism that we are witnessing, and not without good reason.<br />
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<a href="http://static.guim.co.uk/sys-images/Business/Pix/pictures/2011/12/16/1324038632536/The-Jarrow-crusade-007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://static.guim.co.uk/sys-images/Business/Pix/pictures/2011/12/16/1324038632536/The-Jarrow-crusade-007.jpg" height="192" width="320" /></a></div>
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We see from history that economic hardship encourages such social and political upheaval. Moderate governments are helpless to prevent poverty and hardship while the scapegoating offered by "extremists" suddenly takes on an appeal for people who are looking for someone to blame for the loss of their livelihoods.<br />
<br />
<u>Corruption</u><br />
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Tony Blair's government was going to be "whiter than white". David Cameron's government was going to be even whiter than that. How did that turn out?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWNt41Jvy-_PMn5ijo2U3B26qeDjYEgs2Emcs61cXZVirIsb-dZlCpHGmoHPkYkAxF-19qB8REjpPm4FWDtDyRyakG6CDRoMS4XjltylrMIoRaN0lRJ55ufkRHJ1D-HTJDqbLBIG5zZwQ/s1600/bus_limo.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWNt41Jvy-_PMn5ijo2U3B26qeDjYEgs2Emcs61cXZVirIsb-dZlCpHGmoHPkYkAxF-19qB8REjpPm4FWDtDyRyakG6CDRoMS4XjltylrMIoRaN0lRJ55ufkRHJ1D-HTJDqbLBIG5zZwQ/s1600/bus_limo.jpeg" height="160" width="320" /></a></div>
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Above all this we have the eternal image of the "Gravy train" that emanates from Brussels, with unelected bureaucrats, their faces eternally in the trough of public finance that funds their celebrity lifestyles. Was it they that handed out lessons in feathering your nest which were gratefully absorbed by British MP's as they filled out their expense forms?<br />
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<u>The politics of Consensus</u><br />
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Margaret Thatcher's Conservative government pulled Britain, some would say irrevocably, to the right wing of politics, ending the nationalisation of industry and services and destroying union power. In response, Tony Blair's "New Labour" was nothing more than a watered down version of the 18 years of Conservative government that preceded it and left its indelible print upon Britain. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3CSmraPaCTecJAMnTdQwTEh-pI3KwY3nmVQqfMlygy6EAkuG1kFH-RhxWE-FnzV9RLYYemhyphenhyphenvNk32aN9p2ZgKJsYbs_k3zEhkCFgVMh1ad09dpCLmYsmS28eoy540H2aUd9G4GLlLpgU/s1600/Thatcher+Blair.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3CSmraPaCTecJAMnTdQwTEh-pI3KwY3nmVQqfMlygy6EAkuG1kFH-RhxWE-FnzV9RLYYemhyphenhyphenvNk32aN9p2ZgKJsYbs_k3zEhkCFgVMh1ad09dpCLmYsmS28eoy540H2aUd9G4GLlLpgU/s1600/Thatcher+Blair.JPG" height="320" width="232" /></a></div>
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However "New Labour" themselves became so successful that in response to them, David Cameron moved the Tories to the left, and sang a song of hugging hoodies from his new headquarters in the North Pole, where he was determined to tell us how bad Global Warming was getting don't you know. And so we looked from blue to red, and from red to blue, and it was difficult to tell which was which any more.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3CI2oHy4Bb0Ez7Ih8l2LHrGHVF9gTp0Ut4M_-0jGcT_mQfDkC-O3MVuj4WPhSLyrP8nxsqevL0Rta2LznNWz5Cf9A8tGHSMhoHWUU0L3GmpG-oXjXzz39GE6kLFeGucn0pf0Ecv8yLuo/s1600/hug+a+hoodie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3CI2oHy4Bb0Ez7Ih8l2LHrGHVF9gTp0Ut4M_-0jGcT_mQfDkC-O3MVuj4WPhSLyrP8nxsqevL0Rta2LznNWz5Cf9A8tGHSMhoHWUU0L3GmpG-oXjXzz39GE6kLFeGucn0pf0Ecv8yLuo/s1600/hug+a+hoodie.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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The Liberal Democrats, who you would have thought might have been squeezed out of existence by this seeming amalgamation of Labour and Conservative, actually continued to profit from it until they had their first taste of real power, broke key promises and suddenly they were being <a href="http://youtu.be/KUDjRZ30SNo">beaten with the same stick</a> they had used to beat the other parties.<br />
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With the main parties now indistinguishable, many of their policies will begin to look similar. And so we ask ourselves, is there a consensus about certain aims of the parties? Are there things that we will be subjected to, whichever way we vote? What about something like mass immigration? What about further integration with the EU?<br />
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And so as a reaction to this consensus UKIP emerges.<br />
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<a href="http://lyrics.wikia.com/Brendan_Perry:The_Bogus_Man">"The Political Classes"</a><br />
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The Conservative Party have always been open to the accusation of being upper class and elitist (though ironically their greatest icon, Margaret Thatcher, was famously a shop keeper's daughter), but since New Labour, and the dawn of 24 hour media coverage, politicians are more savvy, more patronising and less naturally sincere than ever before. It's interesting how the internet has bought politicians both closer to us ("Twitter makes tw*ts of us all") and at the same time made <a href="http://www.prisonplanet.com/bilderberg-the-open-conspiracy.html">more keenly felt our separation from them</a>.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_wQTngA9gi9ICWCT3v1QIrd4biGQGZGnuxI7nxfqC-t6YpTK5CsLGET5DwzpBPs5rk6l55umSxSJ-IAWWm1Az41men-Nk063tnfxJpjOP4kGTgYwBiPgsrdC476wPYnh2fZ9JUe-e4wQ/s1600/info+wars.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_wQTngA9gi9ICWCT3v1QIrd4biGQGZGnuxI7nxfqC-t6YpTK5CsLGET5DwzpBPs5rk6l55umSxSJ-IAWWm1Az41men-Nk063tnfxJpjOP4kGTgYwBiPgsrdC476wPYnh2fZ9JUe-e4wQ/s1600/info+wars.JPG" height="188" width="320" /></a></div>
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UKIP are attracting a vote from people who feel this party are speaking for "them" against this political elite. Again, ironic for a party that is lead by a former stockbroker. <br />
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Finally there are the votes from those people to whom UKIP represent a "change".<br />
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Is there a lesson to be learned from this? What do the people want?<br />
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1. They want trustworthy, transparent politics<br />
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2. They want politicians with character, and individuality<br />
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3. They want boldness perhaps? Some more radical ideas?<br />
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4. They want somebody who not only claims to represent them, but somebody who is ONE of them.<br />
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5. They want a change<br />
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And perhaps another lesson is that we need parties that cater for a full spectrum of opinion, from right to left. When all of the parties are scrabbling towards the same patch of centre ground is this not the inevitable result? The emergence of a party like UKIP? The question that follows on from that is, if UKIP are now catering for those who lean more to the right, who will provide balance from the left?<br />
<br />
The Green Party?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF4p8_4ArrIwa1B2XwwqD-y0LiIIBU98jGkw7aygymKkFvt8rwkAJv_j8Z-lFjJOwJQojiqHcauFcnL7k8yvGIZ7JZkJpTRv_D9LJ20zX_VddCFIxZlWhlreCeBKTMFvvOFV5BG6s-qw0/s1600/gplogo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF4p8_4ArrIwa1B2XwwqD-y0LiIIBU98jGkw7aygymKkFvt8rwkAJv_j8Z-lFjJOwJQojiqHcauFcnL7k8yvGIZ7JZkJpTRv_D9LJ20zX_VddCFIxZlWhlreCeBKTMFvvOFV5BG6s-qw0/s1600/gplogo.jpg" height="301" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<u>... And Finally...</u><br />
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So, in conclusion, will the landscape change? I think it can, but only if more people become engaged in politics. And maybe UKIP could help here - because to the people who support them, they are a breath of fresh air. And if you want to stop them, there's only one thing you can do - you've got to get involved. <br />
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Some people would say "but the very existence of UKIP is dangerous". <br />
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To this I say good. <br />
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Because we need something with a little danger. Because politics without danger is politics that lacks interest, and becomes the kind of politics that gives us interchangeable parties, an electorate that don't care, and a political elite that thinks it can do what it likes, with or without our consent.<br />
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J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2211038101553934429.post-15064938759529138612014-05-23T13:54:00.000-07:002014-05-29T09:30:15.029-07:00I've Got the Poison, I've Got the Remedy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A shock scientific research
paper was published yesterday that could change the way we eat forever.
Following the revelations of research published last year that found that
everything we previously believed was wrong, it has been revealed that
everything we subsequently believed, even after adjusting for agreeing that we
were wrong, was even even wronger than that.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwtSG3Bsn71nfMS7FwRuaCUFQUMe0kx4bpMEIGWIfBRlGHP01u6Vy-HP4UeRJlfLGC7_buhcvujcjecYlG0Odd4b0Mc-viPKCJ88zcPxTdMB9clm7I-yNNZBWCso9szlb17gw3_BHrgXs/s1600/Chocolate-Chickpea-Cake-slice-closeup-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwtSG3Bsn71nfMS7FwRuaCUFQUMe0kx4bpMEIGWIfBRlGHP01u6Vy-HP4UeRJlfLGC7_buhcvujcjecYlG0Odd4b0Mc-viPKCJ88zcPxTdMB9clm7I-yNNZBWCso9szlb17gw3_BHrgXs/s1600/Chocolate-Chickpea-Cake-slice-closeup-2.jpg" height="224" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>Don't even think about it</i></div>
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And scientists have found that
if you are eating anything vaguely nice, or foods that are not utterly boring,
you will die a terrible, terrible death. "I don't know what the hell people are
thinking when they even look at a cake," declared Dr Hans Gruber, director of
the institute of meddling and browbeating people with the so called facts in
Switzerland, "they might as well be throwing themselves in an incinerator when
they do that."</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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"Is it really that bad?" we
wondered.<o:p></o:p></div>
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"No, I am afraid it is worse,"
Dr Gruber told us. "Cake, pizza, bread, sweet tasting fruit like pomegranate or
even those little frozen peas - all these are as good as deadly poison. Instead
people should be preparing themselves a meal of gruel with raw vegetables. And
be doing that many times a day. Then they should be using cod liver oil
suppositories while chewing live grubs very slowly."<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxWuQUSXC-10bc3Q1jQGVlQUaSZyrwSOo-eGH7s3PAeNs5hNY6NaW278ZEO09FBgz2aTQOfWzX2JtNdtyWeKdPsY1ZP6tl6UZw2jTR1Of9nljGP38kobNGwgM1fD0E8mBLxdI8vLMVdV4/s1600/01-gravy-gruel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxWuQUSXC-10bc3Q1jQGVlQUaSZyrwSOo-eGH7s3PAeNs5hNY6NaW278ZEO09FBgz2aTQOfWzX2JtNdtyWeKdPsY1ZP6tl6UZw2jTR1Of9nljGP38kobNGwgM1fD0E8mBLxdI8vLMVdV4/s1600/01-gravy-gruel.jpg" height="240" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>Youâre wrong so eat
it</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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How many times a day should they
be doing that?<o:p></o:p></div>
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"Think of a number," answered
professor Gruber. "have you thought of it? Well, it's not enough. Now double
that number, and it's still not enough. Increase it much more. Have you done
that? Well, it's still wrong and it's still not enough. Whatever answer you come
up with it's wrong, and if you give up and don't try that's wrong too. Whatever
you do or don't do it's bad and wrong."<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6k8AITf6i7i44sElCwzE8Ch-p_hb4KVdVOcV_vnN3OVV0aQ3en95gNsQJGAsFciRjE_cQ03OPxNWJuCaBHTiWBfqe5a_HMOTVTMi4j6cyaEpPZqVf2G1VWGZdWVzuT2WmsX_cB7UZQ28/s1600/bell_curve.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6k8AITf6i7i44sElCwzE8Ch-p_hb4KVdVOcV_vnN3OVV0aQ3en95gNsQJGAsFciRjE_cQ03OPxNWJuCaBHTiWBfqe5a_HMOTVTMi4j6cyaEpPZqVf2G1VWGZdWVzuT2WmsX_cB7UZQ28/s1600/bell_curve.gif" height="215" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>A Bell Curve
yesterday</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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But the awful news is that
things are going to get even worse than that. "Yes, things are worse than that,"
confirmed Dr Gruber. "Because of genetics and things of that nature, projected
bell curves, scatter diagrams and statistical mean averages" he warned. "Think
of how bad things can be," he explained, "well you're wrong, it's worse, so
multiply the badness by ten. Then you're still wrong, because it's worse than
that. And it'll continue to get worse, because of climate change and then still
worse, and after that it will get worse and worse and worse. But, no, you're
wrong, because it's still worse than you guessed."<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpwPVs1Pdpvd95geqKS7GSFr9iHgpPo5t9GupmXXR_JGeD2XuCtJEbJhjRrsxxx0KdBuV5ruTrcjfBZN6jPzv-brXXbVrWZmEk5EuFAVNh1r4AdWwZdc75NBHcqN5cTNPADOJk0030o1s/s1600/Hans+Gruber.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpwPVs1Pdpvd95geqKS7GSFr9iHgpPo5t9GupmXXR_JGeD2XuCtJEbJhjRrsxxx0KdBuV5ruTrcjfBZN6jPzv-brXXbVrWZmEk5EuFAVNh1r4AdWwZdc75NBHcqN5cTNPADOJk0030o1s/s1600/Hans+Gruber.gif" height="320" style="cursor: move;" width="285" /></a></div>
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<i>Shitting on you from
a great height</i></div>
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Is there anything people can
do?<o:p></o:p></div>
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"Well, first you must admit you are
wrong and we're right," replied Professor Gruber, "but then we'll confirm soon
that you're even more wrong than you thought and we're even more right, but I'm
afraid after that, when you've changed round everything and tried to adapt we're
going to tell you that's bad and wrong because we've changed everything again to
show that we are yet more right and you yet more wrong. There is no escape. And
if you try to escape the consequences will be catastrophic and if you don't try
to escape they will be even more disastrous. We're currently working on a future
escalation model of horribleness that you can't even imagine, and don't be
foolish enough to try to imagine and prepare and don't even think of not
trying."</div>
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Professor Gruber left us to
continue his research. He lives in a rarefied environment with lots of other
painfully clever people and his hobbies include being smug and ruining your
day.<span style="color: #1f497d;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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J. D. Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03669261102545662725noreply@blogger.com6