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Showing posts from May, 2009

Multiblogger platforms are taking off at the moment in magazine formats.

Now is the time for all good bloggers to come to the aid of free and open writing. Allow me to make you a decorous proposition, my fellow bloggers, with a view to a marriage of minds. And if not a marriage, then let us at least gather on the same pages,despite our differences. It’s quite lonely to blog on your own and you end up with you and your circle of like minded chaps and chapesses. Multiblogger plaforms are taking off at the moment in magazine formats. The idea is to kind of focus on one area, but in fact you are free to write what you like. It’s no big deal so long as you contribute with one article of your own a week – around 500 words, with or without a pictures. Basically, I – I would prefer Baron to do this – set up a page. Eveyone gets a log in. There is an editor involved so it is preferable that everything gets sent to him to be subbed and topped and tailed. But if you are very precious, (in a good way of course), about word conservation, then you can just uplo

Dad's 70th

Song-To the Men of England: a response

Cremation of Shelly Song-To the Men of England by Percy Bysshe Shelley Men of England, wherefore plough For the lords who lay ye low? Wherefore weave with toil and care The rich robes your tyrants wear? Wherefore feed and clothe and save, From the cradle to the grave, Those ungrateful drones who would Drain your sweat -nay, drink your blood? Wherefore, Bees of England, forge Many a weapon, chain, and scourge, That these stingless drones may spoil The forced produce of your toil? Have ye leisure, comfort, calm, Shelter, food, love's gentle balm? Or what is it ye buy so dear With your pain and with your fear? The seed ye sow another reaps; The wealth ye find another keeps; The robes ye weave another wears; The arms ye forge another bears. Sow seed, -but let no tyrant reap; Find wealth, -let no imposter heap; Weave robes, -let not the idle wear; Forge arms, in your defence to bear. Shrink to your cellars, holes, and cells; In halls ye deck another dwells. Why shake the chains ye

Grayling and the new humanist capitalist priesthood.

Grayling, claims moral superiority That people who use scientific rational thought thought to inform the choices they make are morally superior to those people who do not. They are morally superior to people who are merely guided by their conscience or by shared cultural values, religion and other "unsupported" belief systems. In other words that Grayling himself is, personally, morally superior to religious people. When I challenged Grayling on his personal morality his response was was very interesting. He produced a long litany of his "good deeds". Now what this tells me is that he, and Dawkins and others like them, are, in reality, aspiring to be the new priesthood. Increasingly they are linking scientific thought and rationalism with morality. They offer themselves as our guides. Isn't this the story of all priesthoods since time began. More and more the humanists - atheists have the support of the capitalist establishment, increasingly irritated with re

Deepest condolences to our Tamil neighbour

Condolences to our Tamil neighbour Since I posted my blog on the Tamils my Tamil neighbour has told us that she has just discovered that her mother and many of her family were murdered last week by the Sri Lankan army. Many Tamils have been murdered in cold blood . We all learned with concern how paramilitary Sinhalese militias are now free to conduct murderous vendettas against civilians who supported the Tigers. We hear that the Tamil population is being penned up in vast camps and international organisations are being prevented for verifying the conditions of this camps, but that Ban Ki-Moon will soon visit. In the fist place, our deepest condolences go to our neighbour. In the second place our government must act powerfully to protect the Tamil population. This is the moment for liberal interventionism if there ever was one. Remember Dachau .

Is Pullman a literary child catcher for atheism?

Pullman: The Humanists' L. Ron Hubbard Salman Rushdie missed a trick. If he had set the Satanic Verses in the nostalgic Oxford of the establishment and described puddings, punts and shoplifting T. S. Eliot from the Oxford bookshops - What japes! - in his book instead of being so exotically "oriental" then he t0o could have passed under the radar. Philip Pullman is cock-a-hoop, though. He can't understand why he got off so lightly. Roald Dahl castigated Salman Rushdie for his insensitivity. Philip Pullman deserves a little castigation too. Philip Pullman thinks the problem with our society is religion. So this is what he does about it. He gets children's attention by using magic and fantasy as a plot device and then, towards the end of his trilogy, once he has enticed them into "His Dark Materials" sweet cart, he then whips away the cover and the promises of magical wonder fade. The children find themselves locked into the barred rationalist cage

Little moments make an hour, little words a book.

Uncle Heini is 99. We get off at the train station in Solln and are met by Chris and Alice and they are quite obviously enjoying each other's company. There's no Andy and Jess or Bobby , because Andy, recently returned from Botswana , has to meet a deadline. Anne and Kate have not graced us with their presence either. Alice and Eve seem pleased to see each other. We arrived at Stohr Strasse and I am looking for the big Spruce in the middle of the garden, but then remember that it was chopped down. Rose greets us: Inside, I show Eve: - "This is where we slept when we came the first time in 1967." Down the steps into the big basement, now more or less a store room. It was late autumn and they put heavy eiderdowns on top of us. We three little Kenyan boys wake up in the morning sweating. Heini is standing on the landing, gesturing to us. He is dressed smartly in a well cut, dark green Bavarian suit. Rose , and Heini, must both

Dave Loffman's sermon on the poet

An important anti-establishment tradition is sermonry in England with congregations as audiences: John Wycliffe and his Lollards, Robert Browne and his Brownists, George Fox, Roger Williams , Richard Clyfton , John Wesley, Richard Baxter, John Bunyan, John Tillotson, John Howe, Robert South to name but a few. The Dissenters revolted through the act of preaching: the Behemenists, Diggers, Familists, Seekers, Quakers, Shakers, Unitarians, Ranters, Adamites, Presbyterians, Divorcers, Puritans, Remonstrants, Muggletonians, Grindletonians, Soulsleepers, Arminians and Welsh Blasphemers.The nonconformists were rebels yelling, they were part of a cultural revolution that went hand in hand with seventeenth century republicanism. Sermons are a literary form like any other. Think of the beauty and power of the Sermon on the Mount , think of Martin Luther King's great sermon. Think of James Brown's sermon in the Blues Brothers, Billy Graham preaching in front of the crowds. Sermons ar

Eve Hall: assignments 9/92 - 1/93

Project evaluation: Action to assist Rural Women Guinea 07.09.02 - 27.09.92 Tanzania 28.09.92 - 27.10.92 Geneva 28.10.92 - 03.11.92 Mali 04.11.92 - 21.11.92 Niger 22.11.92 - 09.12.92 Zimbabwe 10.12.92 - 27.01.93 27/3/93 Darling Mom, I am off to Tanzania in three days time, for a month or so, so I thought I'd write before I go incommunicado in Mafinga. The sun is shining brightly outside, but there's already a nip in the air -- winter is creeping in. The flowers you planted are thriving, though the new lawn we worked so hard to plant is looking very thin. The house looks splendid with a lovely bunch of bouquet from London, a fantastically exotic orchid from To, and a bunch of daisies from some of To's colleagues, to say nothing of lovely birthday cards, including yours with 200 francs, darling, thank you so much. I had a lovely birthday with a small heap of books from To to di

Nipper, with love and hope

The Barraud children and the Powell children play together and at the the centre of their happy band is Nipper. Nipper understands his family's movements. For example, when there is a general bustle and everyone starts to put their hats and coats on, he leaps onto the third step in the hallway. There, he catches their eye and smiles a doggy smile at the children until, finally, one of them calls out: "Put Nipper's lead on, will you." And someone else obliges. Clip! And they are ready to set off into the streets of Clifton. On Sundays the families go to church, which is not a place for dogs and, by way of explanation, someone calls out to Nipper: "Church, Nipper." And he sinks down onto the wooden step with a moan, watching everyone leave without him. Nipper, with his head between his paws. "Are you all telling the truth?", he thinks. Despite his dislike of religion, Nipper is a morally responsible dog. Above all he

Juvenilia

One day upon a lofty peak In the sky rich with blue there flew a passing eagle by Whose voice it seemed I knew Its croaky tune, defiant speech Reminded me of the President's preach And there upon a craggy rock It settled down to gaze Unto the land of fresh green grass And ripely wheatened maize As its lordly glare is cast A rustle shakes the stems below Whereupon the air is slit And the eagles freindly glow Is put upon the mouse ... In the days that war was greed There was planted the growing seed A seed which spread like a pool of blood A seed which raved and reddened the mud The increasing number of tools for war Was rapidly spreading more and more (A threat to you) if you hit me I'll hit you back, just wait and see (Note) ancestors of this loving family Are quite stupid, dumb, but manly. ... Around about Mau Mau time There was a good and welcomed rhyme Which took in glances by the dozen Converting mother, brother, cousin When the pencils set to work They did not cry they did

You are entitled to your opinion, but you are wrong.

Evelyn Beatrice Hall said: "I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it...". Eve Diane Hall said: "You are entitled to your opinion, but you are wrong." Carmen Rebecca Hall said: "I am not a genius, but I'm right." Diderot said: "All things must be examined, debated, investigated without exception and without regard for anyone's feelings."

Hanovarians, horses, Göbels and Mohrs

Hanovarians and horses Lazaro Cardenas asked to see Don Rafael. - “What a lovely orchard you have Don Rafael," he said. - “Which orchard are you referring to Mr President?” - “Why the one near the river on the way out of town.” - “Oh Mr President, I am so sorry, but you are mistaken, that avocado orchard is no longer mine, I sold it recently.” - “Oh, did you?” said the President, eyes glittering. Whenever president Lazaro Cardenas, patron saint of the Left in Mexico , saw a piece of land he liked, its owner was forced to sell - well below the market price – as a gesture of (self preserving) good will. Raphael heard the President had stopped off to admire the orchard and so had rushed to sell it off. When Lisa insisted that the Hanoverians had assassinated her mother Carolin’s grandparents, some members of the family disbelieved her, most of them, actually, but it would not surprise me. All rulers are accomplished, land grabbing, cattle thieves, aren't they?

Las Meninas

Diego Rodríguez de Silva y Velázquez The painter looks at you. You're on. From 2009 you observe a frozen scene: the room of the Prince in the Alcazar in Madrid in 1656. What do you see? Perhaps you don't realise it at first, but as Carl Justi says, your perspective has been elevated a little: your feet aren't actually touching the ground.The painter knows what you see, but speculates on what you think. You stand as if looking through a window, and it is not the sun, but the bright lamp of your attention that illuminates the foreground. The painter controls your gaze. King Philip and Queen Mariana are reflected in the silvery edged mirror at the back of the hall. Diego sees the monarchs compose themselves. We, the King and Queen, look at our daughter, Margarita . Velazquez sees the Infanta through our eyes and then he portrays Margarita and sees us, the King and Queen, through her eyes. One maid looks at Margarita, who sees us, another looks at us as we admire our dau

Do you remember how Zidane head-butted Italian fascism

Zidane headbutted Italian xenophobic provincialism Thinking back with fondness on Zinadine Zidane. We talk of the rise of the BNP in Britain, but in Spain and Italy fascism was popular from the start and it still is. Real Madrid has a hardcore group of Franco Fascist supporters and A. C. Milan, Berlusconi's club, has a hard core group of Mussolini style fascist supporters too. In the light of this Zinadine Zidane's head-butt was a heroic attack on racism in Italian football. Whether the comment referred to his sister or directly to his race, it was a racist attack on a Frenchman of Algerian origin - after Pele, and Maradona, the greatest who has played the game. Sometimes you can't fight racism with words, you have to fight it, well, with fighting. Zinadine had a choice: Let that offensive comment go by, or roll his courage into a ball. Zinadine, always the gentleman, lost his rag, and if Zinadine lost his rag, then it deserved to be lost. Marco Materazzi went down .

From Umsebenzi Online

Because you probably won't read something like this in the pages of the Guardian: Relayed from Umsebenzi Online on the victory of Jacob Zuma and the ANC Blade Nzimande, General Secretary The overwhelming victory of the ANC in the April 2009 fourth democratic elections is the clearest statement by the workers and the poor of our country of their continued confidence in, and expectations from, the ANC-led government. Indeed the May Day 2009 COSATU rallies became both the rallying point for intensify working class struggles especially in the wake of the current global capitalist crisis, as well as a platform to celebrate the electoral victory of the ANC. The significance and some lessons from the elections The ANC electoral victory underlines other important things: It is a continuation and consolidation of the democratic advances made at the Polokwane conference, and an affirmation of the popularity of the key decisions taken at that historic conference by the overwhelming majo

Israel: The one-state solution

Yasser Arafat's greatness In mourning the death of Yasser Arafat, let me quote extracts from an article by Jonathan Steele in the Guardian Weekly in which he gets the historical context exactly right, in explaining Arafat's greatness: "In the days when Britain was being forced to give up one colony after another, the phrase "father of the nation" was much in vogue. Julius Nyerere in DTanzania, Archbishop Makarios in Cyprus, and Kenneth Kaunda in Zambia were among the many who won this informal title, not just from journalists in search of a label but, more importantly, from their own people. As teachers, clerics or trade unionists who became political leaders, they were seen as the chief architects of the struggle for independence. "Forty years on from the age of decolonisation, Yasser Arafat...can claim that status. In many ways his title is even more deserved. He had to win recognition of the fact that there was such a thing as a Palestinian nation at all.

The piñata: Dale, dale, dale, no pierdas el tino,

T h e p i ñ a t a Perhaps you are not too sure what a piñata is. A piñata is a heavy thing, a large clay pot decorated with coloured paper and silver (or gold), tasselled, cardboard cones. The clay pot concealed beneath the decoration is a thin skinned cantaro. Cantaros, when they are not being used to make piñatas are water pots. They have something similar in India. And as the water percolates through porous baked clay it evaporates and refrigerates the liquid, giving it a deliciously mineraline flavour. At first the taste is very strong and then it softens and dilutes until finally the salty earthiness is no longer perceptible and the cantaro needs replacing. A craftsman covers the clay pot in coloured paper and attaches tasselled cones to it. He may transform it into the figure or head of a well known character, perhaps a character from the songs of Francisco Gabilondo Soler, Cri Cri . La Piñata Una piñata barata y la mejor colación. Ay, marchantita, pos llévese éstapor