The Thought Foundry

Save Darfur Multimedia Chat Room

2007-07-14T03:40:00.000Z

meebo.com Multimedia Chat Room complete with enlightening presentations: http://widget.meebo.com/mcr.swf?id=KSUjoaJBaB

I spent a half hour learning more about Darfur. However, there appears to be little overall understanding of the origin of this Genocide: Islamic racial prejudice exercised through willing surrogates who willingly accept their support. Investigate on your own. The information is on the internet but hidden behind mounds of fluff.

Final note:

THE CAUSE:
Since the periodic spells of drought inducing heat is a normal phenomena, the 'global warming' cannot be blamed. Hate exercised through the choices man makes is the culprit.

THE CURE:
The cure is making effort to restore the original intention; family. That is family without man made boundaries of racism, religion, nationalism and so on. What do you think?

2007-05-05T15:56:00.000Z

dr eamer and i have different perspectives on how to save the world. his views concern things on a grander scale and mine are more about eating chocolate to save the silverback gorillas. essentially though we're both interested in the same thing. i have been inspired by this blog not particularly by the ideas (albeit their greatness!) but more by the belief that something can/should be done to make things better despite the magnitude of the problem. it's all about the possibilities right?

hope to see you again soon dr eamer. clear your head and get back on the horse. we've got work to do!!

Afterword

2007-04-22T10:15:00.000Z

Hi folks,

Just a quick post to say that I'm going to shut down this blog in week or so. Not for negative reasons, mostly for positive ones. Everything flows, people change, and I don't think I'm the same person I was when I started this up. Plus I'm getting a bit tired of feeling like a hypocrite. And I'm inclined to agree with Michael Crichton (State of Fear) that ignorant benevolence (my own) often has the same outcome as malevolent intent. So until I get educated, the soap box goes back in the cupboard.

I hope to keep in touch with all the people I've met in the course of this project, it's been great interacting with you.

From now on I'm going to leave politics and science to the political scientists and do what I do best.

Dream.

Thought for the Day

2007-03-22T15:48:00.001Z

Talk show hosts have become the moral leaders of our generation.

Family Traditions

2007-03-15T13:40:00.000Z

Hat tip: LGF In a stomach-turning video clip from Al Aqsa TV (the Hamas television station) broadcast on March 8, 2007, the children of female suicide bomber Rim Al-Riyashi talk happily about their mother’s act of mass murder. (Courtesy of MEMRI TV ) click on the link

I am speechless

Riverside Walk

2007-03-15T10:42:00.000Z

Saturday was such a beautiful day I thought about taking my camera to get some shots of the river, but by the time the battery charged up I knew it would be too dark. I charged it up anyway with the hope that Sunday would be just as nice. It wasn't. But in other ways it was, with the chilly wind and overcast skies reminding me more of my home country, Scotland, than other times I could remember.

People imagine Tokyo doesn't have much to offer in the way of nature, but it's there if you know where to look. Sakaigawa ( meaning Border River ) is the naturally formed border running between Tokyo and Kanagawa, and for me, the stretch just east of the station has served as many a backdrop for stress-release runs or after-dinner strolls.

The river plays home to a surprisingly large number of bird species, even I, not exactly an avid bird-spotter, have enjoyed seeing the variety and colour of the creatures I share the local habitat with. Not that I could name many. Duck, pigeon, sea-gull, is about my limit. Same with plant life. But the soothing effects of just being out there, especially this time of year when things are coming out of hibernation - colours vivid, blossom scents vivifying - makes you feel good to be alive.

But unfortunately it isn't just flora, fauna and fish that gather along the river, but also gomius nautilus, also known as junk, garbage, rubbish. Who knows where it comes from, or how it manages to accumulate along such an otherwise soothing stretch of the country's heritage? Some things I've seen in there spark the imagination, others defy belief.

Why the river? I know it costs to have large rubbish taken away, but why dump things in the river? Isn't that what we have vacant lots for? Disused carparks? Do people think that when something is dumped in the river that it somehow disappears from human consciousness? That it will wash away the next time there's a heavy rain and all will be well again? It must be the psychological benefits of discarding the broken or no longer necessary over a fence to lower ground. It becomes someone else's problem.

Well I can see it, I can see it all too clearly.

I can't suggest any solutions. I don't know who is to blame, nor would gain any satisfaction from doing so. But perhaps if each town had an accessible free dumping ground, paid for out of our city taxes, where all the junk could be separated into recyclable, or at least raw materials for the making of something else, then people might be tempted use it. And council guys whose job it might be to periodically clear the rivers and ferry the garbage to such a processing plant. I understand the rivers are cleared out by the community occasionally, but I don't think it's often enough, especially judging by my own photos. Or it could be a useful project for local schools. What the hell, give the job to homeless guys if the council doesn't want to do it. Just a suggestion.

I love the river, always have done. Often wondered if it's something to do with the magnetic field the moving water creates that calms my soul, or just the rippling sounds, the wildlife, the sparkling light. I don't know.

But I am grateful.

Consumers Are Revolting

2007-03-11T09:45:00.000Z

Consumers' revolt: Power to the people
Consumer militancy erupts as individuals join forces on the Internet to fight back against the state and big business
The Independent. Published: 23 February 2007
Copied from Peter's blog: 11 March 2007

Banks
A mass revolt has left the high street banks facing thousands of claims from customers seeking to claw back some of the £4.75bn levied annually on charges for overdrafts and bounced cheques. More than one million forms demanding refunds have been downloaded from a number of consumer websites. The banks are settling out of court, often paying £1,000 a time.

Utilities
While average gas and electricity bills approached £1,000 last year, a record 4 million householders have dumped their supplier after an internet-led consumer campaign. British Gas admitted yesterday it lost 1.1m customers in just 12 months, and two weeks ago slashed gas bills by 17 per cent and electricity bills by 11 per cent. Other big suppliers, Powergen and npower, are expected to follow suit.

Road pricing
Plans for road pricing have faced massive public opposition spearheaded by an internet campaign. In just three months 1.8 million people have signed an online petition, linked to a new section of the Downing Street website, launched by a disgruntled motorist from Telford.

Supermarkets
From Devon to Inverness, planning applications for superstores are being thwarted by residents' campaigns orchestrated on the internet. Tesco scrapped a superstore plan in Darlington last year following opposition and this week residents sank a Tesco plan for a £130m retail development in Tolworth, Surrey. Friends of the Earth is co-ordinating the protests across the country.

Air travel
"Green" travellers are boycotting air travel because of climate change. Campaigners have staged sit-ins at airports while hundreds of people have signed up to an online pledge set up by a veteran environmental campaigner. An estimated 3 per cent of people have stopped flying to help the environment, while 10 per cent are cutting back on flights.

Packaging
A campaign launched by The Independent urging supermarkets to reduce excessive packaging has prompted a remarkable response. Supermarkets have had to defend their practices after thousands of readers emailed examples of environmentally damaging packaging. The campaign gained widespread public support - a day of action is planned later this year - and has been backed in an early day motion in the House of Commons.

Football tickets
Football fans fed up with paying £50 a time to watch games have joined forces online to put pressure on clubs to slash prices. Manchester City fans led a boycott of the club's match at Wigan in protest at the cost of tickets. Chelsea have announced a freeze on most ticket prices next year and Bolton promised a 10 per cent cut.

Post Offices
Government proposals to axe 2,500 post offices has prompted an organised revolt from pensioners and consumer groups across Britain. The Federation of Subpostmasters and a number of other organisations have launched online petitions opposing the plan, and a rally was staged in London on Tuesday to increase the pressure on the Government to save the post offices from closure.

9 month-ish anniversary

2007-03-10T09:41:00.000Z

I wanted to call this a 9 month anniversary, but I can't remember exactly when I started this blog - must have been last June or so, which is close enough.

I have to confess I got a bit distracted in February and lost my way a bit. Sorry about that, folks. Many thanks to those of you who continue to read anyway - very encouraging.

I used to be able to post from my cell phone, but can no longer do that, which is a downer, but at least now I can read comments on my cell almost as soon as they're added.

There have been a couple of encouraging things in the papers recently, for example, Richard Branson's offer of a $25 million prize to anyone who can come up with an effective way to capture the CO2 in the atmosphere, and Al Gore's movie did the rounds here in the cinemas, getting people's attention, which is great. But who knows if it will be enough to make a dent?

I'm on detox today by the way, meaning no coffee, which hopefully explains why I sound like I have a hangover, which is actually also true...

Anyway, some successes :

The Thought Foundry still exists, even after 9 months and brush with destruction
4 chapters of the story "The Omikron Plague" written in an attempt to encourage people to wonder what might happen should we carry on the way we're going
Scrap book started for interesting, pertinent newspaper articles on environment, politics etc
Speech suggesting ways people can cut down on energy consumption or needless wasting of resources written in Japanese and delivered (unskilfully) to hall full of about 60 Japanese people. Same speech posted on Japanese Thought Foundry and contact made with one Japanese blogger
Got three real people on the contributor's list (excluding myself) and a regular readership of a handful of friendly, proactive - minded folk
I did actually write a blues song about what a homeless guy might be thinking when he watches commuters drift through a train station, but have yet to sing it on the streets (I'm still plucking up the courage..)
Quite a few Oxfam Unwrapped Christmas presents were given and received by family members, which is great, and my parents have suggested the same if anyone wanted to get them prezzies for their 40th wedding anniversary. They put that on all the invitations, which would be spreading the word for next Christmas/ birthdays etc. too
The benefits of herbs and herbal teas discovered to promote health
I haven't had a Coke since the last Virtual Activist article

Things to regret:

I find it difficult to reach practical solutions to things because of emotional hang-ups due to work, or worrying about my own hypocracy, and hosts of other mental blockages, when really I should try harder to just do the things I set out to do
I deleted most of the Thought Foundry due to my own stupidity
I still haven't written any letters to politicians/CEOs/newspapers
I haven't made much effort to contact more people
I'm getting a bit sick of the sound of my own voice, especially on Friday nights in bars over beer and (Marlboro) cigarettes
I haven't re-suggested the sponsored Riverside Walk idea to my boss

Things to aim for for the next anniversary:

Focus on getting results rather than all the mental BS
Write 2 letters/emails. One to local paper, one to a politician
Spend more time trying to find like-minded bloggers
Give up smoking for good
Re-suggest the Riverside Walk idea
Design a poster for the copying room in the school encouraging teachers to switch off lights and use paper sparingly (shrinking A4 worksheets to halfsize etc)
Find an online T shirt printing company and get some funky green slogans designed
Talk less and do more

There. I have a direction. Now all I have to do is try and induce a little effort and get moving.

Thought for the Day

2007-03-10T09:38:00.000Z

"A happy man is too satisfied with the present to dwell too much on the future."

Albert Einstein

The Omikron Plague : Part 4 : Shelter

2007-03-10T09:31:00.000Z

"... Yes, that's affirmative, we can actually see it! We gained a visual out of the star-board viewing windows about five minutes ago. According to the instruments panel our starship is around 12 light minutes from the Plague's surface, and that's more than close enough for us, let me tell you. It's ... it's unbelievable. It's huge! It's like an ocean of ... of black ink moving across. Yeah, like looking down at the surface of the sea, except it's coming towards us like a wall of oil! "
"How can you see something black in space, Captain Erikson?"
"The stars. The stars are just gone. And there's a ripple, like waves. Some of the ship's 'scopes are picking up some kind of storms that are like, raging just beneath the surface, with lightning discharging static differentials and sending enormous arcs of the stuff out like ebony sunbursts. There's no end to it - it stretches off, seemingly to infinity in all directions - which is terrifying, but, but I have to say also kind of fascinating. I've never seen anything like it. My God. That I could live to witness this."
"Captain Erikson, are you all right? You don't sound ..."

- Excerpt of a transmission from Capt D. Erikson, Starship Explorer, 387-47-2984

It took her fourteen steps to make it from one side of the street to the other. But every step was frought with pain that she mostly took through gritted teeth. Like running under a shower of sparks made from a welder's oxy-acetylene torch, except the sparks didn't just burn for a second and then go out. The sparks burned, and kept burning, even as they sank in, through her clothes, through her skin.

The bent iron sign protected her head, shoulders and waist, but she was exposed to rain blown under by fierce gusts of wind, as well as drops hitting the ground so hard they ricocheted up onto her legs.

On Alice's fourth step, her sights were set so firmly on the broken window ahead that her boot landed in a puddle of acid. It splashed up and she screamed inside the mask.

Just past the halfway point, a dribble of acid rolled off the edge of her makeshift umbrella and landed on the arm holding the wrapped bundle, half catching the wrist-com, which started to bubble and spit. "Time till take-off ... zzzt ... six minutes ...ffff ... 41 secssss ..."

At step twelve the first hole began to appear in the iron sign.

Before Alice started to cross the street she had figured out how she was going to pass carefully and unhurt through the broken window, but by the end of her journey her plans had changed.

She dived through head first.

The bent sign fell to the ground outside the window with a hissing clatter, rain turning it into swiss cheese. Alice had managed to twist in mid air so that she'd landed on the floor inside the building on her back, jarring it badly, but with the bundle still clutched safely to her stomach - a move she'd done a hundred times in high school gym. But then of course there'd been a crash-mat to break her fall, not a concrete floor littered with shards of glass.

Smoke was rising up from countless holes in the clothes of her lower body, and although she could barely see due to the tears and steam of exertion fogging up the mask lenses, her right boot appeared to be disintegrating before her eyes.

Alice breathed a lungful of air in through the mask, held it, and then forced it all out in one long, agonized and desperate scream. It echoed unheard down the empty hallways and deserted offices of the Toyota-Ford building.

She checked there was no rain damage on the outer blanket wrapping the bundle, and hurriedly kicked off the remains of her right boot. It flew into the corner of the empty storage room where it came to rest, a fuming scrap of leather and rubber. She pulled out another sachet of white powder from her pouch with shaking hands and tore it open, spilling the stuff everywhere but where she wanted it to go. She dropped the white grains of alkaline powder onto her burns as best she could, wondering about and finally deciding against taking off her cloak to tear into strips to dress her right ankle. No time!

Alice picked up the bundle and, against every natural urge inside her crying for rest and a chance to recover, limped out the door into the corridor.

" ... pzzt ... five minutes ... zzt ..."

Alice tried to run, but pulled off her other boot, and then ran barefoot. Her stockinged feet slapped on the corridor floor as she belted along it, changing the bundle from arm to arm whenever she got tired. She was sure she was heading in the right direction, but one thing she wasn't sure of was the luxury of an unlocked door onto the street on the other side. Or whether she could face the rain ordeal a second time.

She sped round a corner to the right at a T-junction, her feet slipping on the corridor floor. Never mind, she thought, taking the next immediate left. She'd worry about that bridge when she ca-

Alice slammed full-pelt into a shutter. The words Emergency Fire Partition were painted on it in large red letters.

Her hand splayed out on the shutter's surface, and she shook it in exasperation, the rattling sound deafening in the quietness of the deserted corridors.

With a grunt of defiance, Alice changed the bundle to her other arm and backed out into the corridor. She ran down to the next turning, spun round it, and slammed right into another shutter.

Emergency Fire Partition.

She retraced her steps, bolted down towards the next left, and managed to take it only narrowly avoiding slipping right over.

Emergency Fire Partition.

"No!" she screamed, pulling off her mask and throwing it at the floor.

Despite the emotional state that she was now in, it was difficult not to notice that Alice was beautiful. Her face, now smeared with grease and tears, had skin almost as smooth as it had been at birth. Her brown eyes, screwed up in futility and exasperation and with lashes laden with tear droplets, were vivid and clear and potentially heart-breaking. She could have been born from a water lilly.

" ... zzt ... zzt ... " the wrist-com stuttered.

The sign for the stairs caught her eye, above a door, and she made for it. Up, or down? She hesitated for a breath on the landing. And then chose down.

Alice made her way as quickly as her painful feet would allow, and the faint sounds of the rhythmical rattle and crunch of factory machinery rose up to meet her.

Maybe if she'd chosen up things would have turned out differently ...

Eamer VS Akula

2007-03-03T10:42:00.000Z

So it came to be decided that Dr Eamer and Dr Akula would meet on a hill one stormy night and have a punch up. Whoever won would take over the Thought Foundry and the defeated one would disappear from the blogosphere and never be seen or heard from again.

Lightning cracked, thunder boomed, and all the other things associated with dark and stormy nights happened too.

At midnight the two men stood on the hill and faced each other.

"You can't win, Eamer! You know that, don't you?" Akula shouted, his face white, teeth glinting. "You're a big softy! This blog belongs to someone with guts! Someone who knows how to have a good time! Someone who knows what it means to truly live, and I know more about that than you do!" He laughed wildly, shaking beneath his black and red cloak. "And I'm the Undead!"

Eamer didn't flinch, but held his head high, rain dripping down his rugged jawline. "That's what you think, Sharky!" he called out over the sounds of the elements, refering to the NATO codename for the Russian nuclear submarines, Akula, Russian for shark. "This is my blog, and I don't care how well you dress, you're a bad apple, and I'm here to show you on your way for good!"

"Come on then!" Akula shouted.

"Right, I will!" Eamer replied.

"I'm waiting!" taunted Akula.

Eamer ran at the figure in black, head down, head-butting him in the stomach and lifting his feet an inch off the ground. Akula hammered on Eamer's back with his fists as he was driven backwards and into a tree. Eamer lifted his head and their eyes locked.

Akula grinned. He said, "My turn!"

Akula shoved Eamer, who tripped over a tree root and went sprawling on his back in the mud, and in a second Akula was on him, hands around Eamer's neck, squeezing. Eamer brought up a fist in an uppercut, knocking Akula's head back and bringing out a scream of pain.

"Aargh!" shouted Akula, staring down at Eamer with a look of hurt in his eyes. "I bit my tongue!"

Eamer twisted onto his front and tried to crawl away, but Akula grabbed his boot to pull him back. The boot, lace broken for ages, came off in his hand, and a warm stench exuding from it cause him to flinch back and cast the thing aside. "Grargh! That's garlic!" he snorted in disgust, before sneezing uncontrollably for several seconds. "I thought we agreed. No garlic, crucifixes, silver bullets, stakes, icons or four-leaf clovers. And I wouldn't bite, scratch, turn into a bat, levitate, or turn into mist!"

Eamer shrugged apologetically. "Sorry about that. Last night's pizza."

"Graargh!" Akula hissed, and pounced on him.

"Ah ah ahh," said Eamer waving a finger. "No hissing."

Akula stopped short, eyes wide. "No hissing!? What do you mean, no hissing!?"

"You're unfairly using your superhuman eerie undeadness to frighten me and gain the upperhand," Eamer explained patiently. "And that's just not cricket."

Akula threw his head back and laughed, "Not cricket, he says!"

Eamer chose just that second to bring his knee up as hard as he could into the vampire's groin.

A long, pain-filled howl filled the night, passing over the rooftops of the villages below, causing dogs to wimper and midwives to cast wary glances at their ceilings.

Eamer stood holding his boot, watching the dark, stooped figure of the defeated prince of darkness limp dejectedly down the hill. He could just hear the mumbled words " ... not cricket, he says ... " drifting back up to him on the breeze, and then Akula was gone.

Eamer sighed and gave a weary smile. "Right," he said. "Now. Where was I?"

The Omikron Plague : Part 3 : And Then The Rains Came

2007-02-25T13:35:00.000Z

[Warning : This story contains ideas that may offend, shock, or just gross people out. Please remember that it's just an SF story and not intended to be taken too seriously. PS - it's also copyright dr_eamer 2007]

"What happens in the chapels?"
"I'll tell you when you're older."
"You said you'd tell me everything."
"I will. When you're older."
"I might not want to know when I'm older. I want to know now."
I gave what my programmer would have a called 'a sigh of resignation.' "All right. They sacrifice children."
"What children? Who?"
"Children from the poorer countries. During sacred ceremonies they place a young boy or girl, not yet ten years of age, on a conveyor strip that takes them up a ramp and into a furnace."
Shock, disgust, then anger crossed the boy's face like clouds across a moderately windy sky.
"But - but why? How could people possibly do that?"
"They believe the God of the Folding Green will bless them with fortune."

- Conversations with the Forgotten Child - Scri-bot 256/12B

The raindrops fell, whizzing past her face like burning matches. One glanced off the back of her hand and the woman cried out as the skin there started to bubble and bleed.

Alice shook the stinging drops of rain from her hair as she fled for cover. Steam was rising from the street in vapourous swirls. The increasingly frequent acid drops caused garbage and discarded rubber tyres to hiss and fold in on themselves, throwing up acrid odours into the air, which somehow managed to worm their way through the protection of her mask.

A doorway provided her with temporary shelter, raindrops falling and bouncing near her ankle-boots. She shifted the bundle from one arm to the other, and glanced down through her smudged goggles to check the tightness of the blanket.

"It'll be okay," she said as if to herself, looking up and down the street taking in her bearings. "We're almost there."

The sky to the east showed a bright glow on the underside of the mucus-coloured clouds, coming from the Interplanetary Terminal launchpad lights just a block or two away, and Alice could hear the warbled monotone of announcements over a PA system between thunder cracks. Pod tubes wound their way through the air overhead like spaghetti, no doubt speeding those evacuees who could afford it to the Terminal in safety and comfort. And time.

After examining the blisters on her hands, Alice delved into a pouch strung inside her cloak and took out a silver sachet. Emergency Rain Alkali . She tore it open and sprinkled the white powder onto bubbles of broken skin, wincing as it made contact. Looked like she'd got some burns from that radioactive zombie ex-colleague she'd 'bumped into' too. The geiger on her wrist-com registered some excess activity, no doubt some of it coming from itself because that arm had been closest to the ... thing.

"Seven minutes and forty three seconds till lift off," the com informed. Alice made a growling sound beneath the mask, and forced herself to focus, to keep it together. So close now. Don't blow it, Alice.

The tiny map on the com screen showed a red line going down this street, turning right, then right again, and then left a block over. She could just see the first corner through the maelstrom of rain and smoke. There was no way she would survive that journey out in the open. There had to be another way. On the map was her final obstacle - a grey building that the red line skirted around. She clicked on it. Toyota-Ford Pod Construction. The floors above ground were deserted, but several floors below ground level were still in use, according to the pop up window.

She squinted through the sheets of rain and rising smoke at the building opposite. The sign above the doors had been eroded beyond legibility, and the outer surface of the walls showed the destructive results of being open to decades' worth of vengeful nature.

But, and this is where her heart tripped, one of the ground floor windows was broken, and could be a possible means of entry.

Alice turned and searched for something to cover her head with. An iron sign, barely clinging to the wall nearby looked big enough, and after a few tugs it came away in her hands. She lay it at an angle against the wall and stepped on it, bending it into a roof-shape.

With the bundle held firmly against her chest in one arm, the other hand balancing the apex of the bent sign above her head, she paused. Alice took a deep breath and said a silent prayer to whoever would listen.

Then she braved the burning downpour.

To be continued ...

Are we created or not?

2007-02-23T14:04:00.000Z

Shall we begin?

Welcomes and Intros

2007-02-19T10:34:00.000Z

Err, new guy, how's it going? Take a pew, er, I mean seat, and join in the discussions. So you're my alter-ego, eh? Interesting. Welcome to the Thought Foundry. Hope it isn't too bright in here for you. It's okay folks, dr akula is just me in a bad mood under another name, nothing to worry about. He doesn't bite. I hope. No doubt he'll just sit there in silence until he feels like ranting about some hypocracy or other, either that or taking the mickey out of me and the way I write. I always find that discussions go better when there's a devil's advocate around, and that's his job. So, over to him ...

A Note on Terminology

2007-02-19T08:59:00.000Z

We at the Thought Foundry would just like to clear up a few points about the terminology used on this web site, in order to avoid confusion or the giving or taking of offence. In the days where political correctness is a heated topic for discussion, we do not wish to step on anyone’s toes in any way, shape or form.

Labels are not pleasant, but it is the nature of humans to assign tags to things, and sometimes regrettably even to people, in order to understand and/or predict that entity’s behaviour. This trait can be both reassuring, yet sometimes restrictive or insulting.

For example, let us look at a recent comment including the term ‘religious freaks’. As it happens this is one of my favourite expressions. To me it is a colourful phrase that seems to both show the speaker’s acceptance that overtly religious people do and must for whatever reason exist in the modern world, however grudgingly, while also adding a somewhat disagreeable but interesting or amusing flavour to the group of people in question.

As to the term’s accuracy, one feels a few words should be said.

There are religious people in the world, and there are freaks in the world. Now, not all religious people are freaks, and not all freaks are religious. Surely this alone can be agreed upon by all. Some religious people are warm, friendly, caring, eg Mother Theresa and Gandhi. Whereas some freaks are from secular backgrounds, eg. the bearded lady, the Phantom of the Opera. However, in saying that, the two sets do overlap, a perfect example of which being, Dracula.

Speaking personally, I don’t mind people who believe strongly in religion, but it’s when the behaviour turns antisocial that problems occur. People, ie the general public, have different thresholds for what is acceptable and what isn’t. Some feel that they shouldn’t have to have members of religions coming round to their house to press their beliefs on them. Others are of the opinion that giving out tracts in public places shouldn’t be tolerated.

I draw the line at murder.

“Thou shalt not kill.” One of the more well-known of God’s commandments in the Old Testament, a sacred text revered by both Christianity and Islam. What completely confounds me is that if two religions evolved from the same faith, like two limbs from the same trunk of a tree, why is one of the most fundamental laws so disagreed upon?

It seems that now more than ever we need to get a leading Christian theologian in a room with a well-known and respected Islamic scholar, together with an unbiased person to type out the transcript. No video - words and arguments only. Have them confirm what they can both agree on, and in a manner of thinking similar to Occam’s Razor, disregard everything else. All or part of the conversation can then be made available to the public.

And I’m sure it wouldn’t be unreasonable to think a book and a movie might spring from the discussion, possibly starring Denzel Washington and Nicole Kidman.

Verses from the Quran

2007-02-14T04:57:00.000Z

The Googling

2007-02-09T10:13:00.000Z

So I had a bit of free time at work on the 1st of February and logged in to blogger to check the work blog, and it said they were transferring all the blogs over to Google and I had to set up a google account to access the work blog. This I did. Then I had to do the same for my dr_eamer blogs, and thought 'Well, can't I just use the same google account?' I tried this, but then to my horror, all my blogs - work and non-work - were piled together under my real name, and the dr_eamer profile vanished. I hurriedly attempted to amend all this, but due to the firewalls at work, any time I tried to alter my profile, I was met with a blunt and rather stubborn electronic refusal.

So I spent the day trying not to imagine my colleagues and bosses perusing through my non-work blogs and thinking to themselves, 'Who the hell is this guy? And what has he been doing on company time? Colouring in pictures of the world in blue? Writing short stories about dying and ending up outside a big wooden door??' (yes to both, I'm afraid) But after work was over I made my way down to the nearest cyber cafe and did my best to put things right. Unfortunately I realised all of my posts and comments on the Thought Foundry were now signed with my real name. Dr_eamer, for all intents and purposes, had been wiped.

Well, I couldn't go around in the blog-scape under my real name - it would feel like walking around the cyberworld in my underpants. So what I ended up doing was this: I started up a new google account under the name dr_eamer, and invited this new identity to join my eamer blogs. Then I transferred admin control to him. All I had to do then was delete my real self from the blogs. But under new Google management I couldn't delete the person who had started the blog! Gaah! Exasperation knew no bounds for me that day!

I even tried to delete the whole blog. The Thought Foundry, for about 5 minutes on the first of February, was in a state of limbo. Because under Google, we can't even delete our own blogs, so I was reduced to changing the HTML formatting to merely "a" and nothing else.

But I couldn't do it. I resurrected the Thought Foundry by copying and pasting another template into the space that had said nothing but "a", and hoped for the best. Hence the new decor.

But my real name was still on there. There was only one thing for it, really. 'Right,' I thought, grinding my teeth and punching my open palm, 'The real me must go.'

And I deleted my real google account.

So if anyone's wondering why when they click on my name on their blog comments pages no profile shows up, that's why. A new dr_eamer account will be created as soon as I get over my temporary disaffection with blogs in general.

And for the past week I haven't been able to log in to my work blog. It's been kind of peaceful! :)

Taking down the Cross

2007-02-04T23:51:00.000Z

My Way News - Cross Removal Stirs Va. College Campus

"WILLIAMSBURG, Va. (AP) - As a Catholic, Vince Haley often went to Mass at the College of William and Mary's historic Wren Chapel when he was an undergraduate in the 1980s. Also a Catholic, school President Gene R. Nichol often goes to the 120-seat chapel alone at night
to think in the quiet.
Both agree the chapel is a sacred space meaningful to students, alumni, faculty and staff of the public school who use it for religious services and secular events.
They clash, though, over what to do with an unadorned, 18-inch brass cross that had been displayed on the altar since about 1940. Nichol ordered the cross removed in October to make the chapel more welcoming to students of all faiths. Previously, the cross could be removed by request; now it can be returned by request." Follow the link to read the rest of this article.

My 2 Cents:

1) Diversity meltdown; as a desire to make everyone happy, is detrimental to the real growth in a religious community, regardless of whose religious culture is being affected.

2) The removal of the crucifix is a desirable deed as I see it. Someday, the reminder of a vicious, murderous act executed in ignorance, propelled by the maintainers of the status quo must be separated from love undeterred by persecution. Miserable murder does not have to befall the harbinger of more truth and responsibility in our relationship with our creator, our families and the creation.

3) The removal of the crucifix should be a ceremony honoring the determination to persevere to live and bring the message of living for others at the price of one's own life. The ceremony would lift the Christ from the cross of murderous ignorance and bury the instrument of that sad deed and resolving to continue to live and bring the message: living for others.

Aargh! I've just been Googled!

2007-02-01T08:14:00.000Z

Er, well, did that happen to everyone else, too today?

Had to make a few changes ... Delete a few posts and comments, sorry about that! Still here though. Still kicking ...

Talk soon.

Virtual Activist

2007-02-01T07:53:00.000Z

Based on the article below, something should be done, but what? Well, we at Virtual(ly an) Activist have come up with an idea that might be able to hit several birds with one stone. Speaking metaphorically of course.

We've decided to let YOU decide. In each post of V A, we'll give YOU, the readers, a list of options to choose from, and after a certain time limit, we’ll count up the votes and do whatever suggestion draws the most.

Today’s suggestions open to the vote are:

A) Write a letter to the CEO of coca cola, outlining how I feel about the above (below) news re the human rights violations of the corporation, and ask them what they intend to do about their policies in the future.

B) Never drink coca cola again.

C) Send emails to everyone I know, effectively spreading the dirt around, asking them to boycott the company and never drink it again.

D) Write a letter to my local paper outlining the above and encouraging a large-scale boycott campaign.

E) Organize a protest about said human rights violations, in my area.

F) Design T shirts with stylish anti-coke designs on them.

G) Investigate further to find out if my information can really be corroborated.

H) Ask my readers to help me and offer to do one each of the above (A-G).

I) Have a coke and forget the whole thing.

J) Do one of the above for something more weighty than the Coke issue.

That’s it. I hereby promise on pain of losing what little credibility I have, that I will do, or at least try to do, whichever of these courses of action is chosen by the people.

Let the voting commence!

I Have Found a Name for my Pain

2007-02-01T07:51:00.000Z

and it is:
Coca Cola, Nestle, Philip Morris (aka Marlboro), Wal-Mart, Caterpillar, Ford, Exxon, Nike, McDonalds, GAP, Kodak, M&M, Mars, Pepsi
Suggested Boycott Targets(at least I intend to avoid their products from now on)
Why? Let's start with:
COCA-COLA
Now don't get me wrong, I like the stuff myself. Get a nice buzz off it for writing ideas. The trouble is, even before looking at the dirt below, is that it rots your teeth. As if that isn't bad enough, the corporation seems to be guilty of various human rights issues, according to the web site, global exchange . These range from violent killings to kidnap and torture, to health violations. Not a pretty thought that we, as consumers, are actually paying these guys money and encouraging them to engage in these sorts of practices. Kind of like being an accomplice in a way. Want to do something about it? Simple. Just keep your money in your pocket the next time you think about having a coke. Or have a nice glass of tomato juice instead, preferably from local producers.
If any of the below is wrong in any way, please let me know. Otherwise I'm going to cut and paste myself into a frenzy and start firing boycott-related emails off to every one in my address book in about a week.
"Human Rights Abuses: violent killings, kidnap and torture, water privatization, health violations, and discriminatory practices

Coca-Cola Company is perhaps the most widely recognized corporate symbol on the planet. The company also leads in the abuse of workers' rights, assassinations, water privatization, and worker discrimination. Between 1989 and 2002, eight union leaders from Coca-Cola bottling plants in Colombia were killed after protesting the company's labor practices. Hundreds of other Coca-Cola workers who have joined or considered joining the Colombian union SINALTRAINAL have been kidnapped, tortured, and detained by paramilitaries who intimidate workers to prevent them from unionizing. In Turkey, 14 Coca-Cola truck drivers and their families were beaten severely by Turkish police hired by the company, while protesting a layoff of 1,000 workers from a local bottling plant in 2005. "
A far cry from the nice red and white design for Santa Claus we've all been thanking Coca Cola for the past few months.
"In India, Coca-Cola destroys local agriculture by privatizing the country's water resources. In Plachimada, Kerala, Coca-Cola extracted 1.5 million liters of deep well water, which they bottled and sold under the names Dasani and BonAqua. The groundwater was severely depleted, affecting thousands of communities with water shortages and destroying agricultural activity. As a result, the remaining water became contaminated with high chloride and bacteria levels, leading to scabs, eye problems, and stomach aches in the local population. Water shortages have occurred in Varanasi, Thane, and Tamil Nadu as well. The company is also guilty of reselling its plants' industrial waste to farmers as fertilizers, despite its containing hazardous lead and cadmium."

Occasionally when I take a drink of tap water, I wonder where it came from, what's in it, and what will it do to my stomach. Fortunately I am not in a country now where I have to worry so much about those things. But what about all the people who are?
"Coca-Cola is one of the most discriminatory employers in the world. In the year 2000, 2,000 African-American employees in the U.S. sued the company for race-based disparities in pay and promotions. In México, Coca-Cola FEMSA, the largest Coca-Cola bottler in Latin America, fired a senior bottling manager for being gay. Finally, by regularly denying health insurance to employees and their families, Coca Cola has failed to help stop the spread of AIDS in Africa. The company is one of the continent's largest private employers, yet only partially covers expensive medicines, while not covering generic medicines at all. "
I heard once from a colleague that if a large corporation's actions, as an entity, were taken as being those of one person, from a psychological standpoint they would be diagnosed as psychotic. In light of the above I find it all the more convincing, not to mention alarming.
Parts in italics from: global exchange/corporate violators Everything else is my own.