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Saturday, November 19, 2005

Remember You're a Womble

Underground, overground Wombling free

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/WOMBLES

The Troll Guard

The Troll Guard is well known to me. I first summoned them when I was a Witchling concerning a matter in the mundane that I don’t even remember now. I know I felt I needed protection. Tossing and turning at night I couldn’t sleep so rose to look out of the window, I lived on the sixteenth floor so imagine my surprise when I saw the back of a huge helmeted head. The head must have been five foot from the forehead to his chin.

I knew there would be three other trolls guarding each corner of the building. That was what I had asked for. He was holding his sword upright in front of his face. I felt so protected and peaceful that I was able to go back to sleep. The Troll Guard have been with me on and off ever since.

Contrary to popular opinion Trolls are very large indeed; they can be a little clumsy because of this. They enjoy logic and like to keep things straightforward. Because of this they respond well to military discipline and often form guards, for protection and for other various causes. They are fearless in a just cause.

Many years later, in cyber space, I came across a group who were inflicted by a psychic vampire. I was part of their cause too. The vampire attacked me and the resulting sulphurous exchange could be detected through the ether. However the group continued to give credence to the vampire so its powers grew.

I was summoned through several covens; an explanation was required of me. I explained there were too many women and children involved for me to simply walk away. I had no credence in the group troubled with the vampire so was unable to influence them. The group were charmed by the mundane. Elders muttered and chuntled. I held my ground I believed the group needed help.

A lady came forward with flowers in her hair, she offered me her cup, I admired her dress. She presented to me a book; she took a flower from her hair and arranged it in my curls, a Bluebell. Another lady came forward she wore a necklace of sapphires that glittered blue in the flames. I smiled and bowed. She presented me with three sprigs of Rosemary.

I relaxed just enough to look around. I saw many old friends amongst them were The Troll Guard. I bowed to them relieved to see old friends amongst such an august assembly. I was called forward again, “You have your own path, all our paths begin at sunrise and end at sunset. Any other business before we adjourn for dinner?”

During the feast I caught up with friends and acquaintances, the food was good and so was the wine! There was music and singing, and much conjuring. I began to be restless I knew in the morning I would have much work to do. A book to read and an instrument to write. I made my excuses bade sad farewells and left.

The next morning I rose early and settled down by the fireside to read my book. There were clues and riddles. As I read I untangled the Bluebell from my hair. Everything fitted so nicely into place. Everything I needed was at hand as I began to build the instrument. Protection was needed, then cleaners too, strong-arm tactics were called for, much salt. Was it funny? Did it Rhyme? Words just flowed for the longest of times.

At last it was ready, I hoped so at least. I think I had covered every contingency. Vampires are such tricky things to deal with, the first rule being do not engage. I sent a copy of the instrument to the coven elders. At Length I received the reply “We are ready. At your word” I needed somehow to warn innocents not to engage. The battle would be hard; no prisoners were to be taken. No hostages allowed.

I engaged with the group, the vampire was gross and hideous, under their charm the group could only see it’s mundane face. I conversed calmly gaining their trust. Finally I judged the best time to send the instrument of destruction, I rose at four and sent the mail back channel. Deleted the e-mail account and went back to bed. I didn’t turn my computer on until after noon the next day.

There were explosions and fall out amongst the group. The vampire had posted the instrument into the group. I held hard. A drink of blackcurrant fell all over the vampire’s keyboard. Some innocents engaged, others did not. Every post was given the name of the instrument; did they know what they were doing? Incantation after incantation poured in. Instigated by the vampire that had sown the seeds of it’s own destruction.

The Captain of the Troll guard had braved a vampire’s lair to knock black currant onto its keyboard. The vampire lost credence. Cleaners moved in, The Troll Guard stood down. At length there came another summons, this time for a celebration in the Court of the Crimson Queen. Which is another story entirely.

Friday, November 18, 2005

Children In Need

It's children in need night again

Phone: 08457 33 22 33

Or

http://www.bbc.co.uk/pudsey/

Great Political Eccentrics

“British Political history teems with eccentrics. Indeed if my own if my own experience is anything to go by, harbouring thoughts of going into politics is pretty eccentric on the first place. As the contents of this book prove, Britain has a pre-eminent claim to the title of the World’s leading Political Asylum.”
Neil Hamilton.

Found this book today, it’s full of chuckle making titbits.

Great Political Eccentrics, Neil Hamilton "Curious and Colourful Characters from over 250 years"

A.P.Herbert MP for Oxford University 1935 – 50

“…..One of his eccentricities was to write checks on anything which came to hand….”

In 1970 the editor of Punch presented him with a cheque written on the side of a cow. Barclays paid up but hoped “not to see the practise extended."

Herbert also wrote the only known cheque in verse

“Dear Bankers, PAY the undermentioned hounds
The shameful sum of FIVE AND EIGHTY POUNDS
By “hounds”of course, by custom, one refers
To SPECIAL INCOME TAX COMMISSIONERS
And these progenitors of woe and worry
You’ll find at LYNEWOOD ROAD, THAMES DITTON, SURREY

This is the second lot of tax, you know,
On money that I earned two years ago.
(The shark, they say, by no means nature’s knight,
Will rest with a single bite: The barracuda who’s a fish more fell
Comes back and takes the other leg as well.)
Two years ago. But things have changed since then.
My earnings dwindle; and the kindly state
Gives me a tiny pension - with my mate.
You’d think the State would generously roar
At least he shan’t pay Surtax any more’.
Instead, by this unchristian attack
They get two thirds of my poor pension back.
Oh very well, No doubt it’s for the best;
At all events, pray do as I request;
And let the good old custom be enforced
Don’t cash this cheque unless it is endorsed.

To his astonishment, after the poetic cheque had been cashed he received a reply from the Office for the Special Commissioners for Income Tax:

Dear Sir,

It is with pleasure that I thank
You for your letter and the order to your bank
To pay the sum of five and eighty pounds
To those here whom you designate as hounds.
Their appetite is satisfied. In fact,
You paid too much and I am forced to act,
Though such a course is easy, it would seem.
Your liability for later years
Is giving your accountants many tears;
And till such time as they and we can come
To amicable settlement on the sum
That represents your tax bill to the State
I’ll leave the overpayment to its fate.
I do not think this step will make you frown:
The sum involved is only half -a –crown.

Yours faithfully,

A.L. Grove


Even APH had to admit at this point he had been beaten at his own game. He replied

I thank you, Sir, but I am afraid
Of such a rival; in my trade;
One should never encourage those –
In future I shall pay in prose….”

And other such gems, a fun read for the cold winter nights ahead.

Oranges and Lemons

For 'Oranges and Lemons' you'll need to choose one child to be an orange and another to be a lemon. They hold hands to form an arch through which the other children process while singing the song:

Oranges and lemons
Say the bells of St Clements
You owe me five farthings
Say the bells of St Martins
When will you pay me?
Say the bells of Old Bailey
When I grow rich
Say the bells of Shoreditch
When will that be?
Say the bells of Stepney
I'm sure I don't know
Says the great bell at Bow


At this point the arch starts chopping down to 'Here comes a candle to light you to bed, here comes a chopper to chop off your head, chop chop chop chop'. With the last chop they seize a child who has to choose to be an orange or lemon and stand behind the appropriate child, holding their waist. Repeat until all have been 'chopped'. Then you can have a 'tug-o-war' to see which team can pull the other over/let go first.

Good old beeb http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/h2g2/A765920

Cold and Frosty Morning

It’s cold and frosty in London this morning, beautiful though as the sun is shining one of those crisp winter days. The past two days frosts have killed off the Pumpkin and nasturtium plants, so I must clear them and put them on the compost. I left them for so long so the nasturtiums could self-seed, they were so pretty growing up the fence. There were a deterrent to the stinging nettles that threaten to take over, though next year I will be ready for them with my recipes for nettle soup.

I have to put plants safely in the greenhouse to over winter, I’m late on this too but it has been exceptionally warm up until now. Sweep it all up with my magic broom! I’m not allowed fires, London has a healthy concern regarding fires, so I will have to catch the fly tipping hit squad tonight and ask if I can dump my stuff on their truck. They sometimes let me, it makes them look like they’ve been working and they get to watch me struggle with sacks of garden waste.

My Fuchsias have been fooled into flowering, I transplanted them, which set them back a little, lovely dancing ladies of my childhood, I used to play that they were fairies. I want to move all the chrysanthemums but I think I will leave it till spring, just give them a lovely mulch to keep them snug. Some of the roses had black spot so I under planted them with parsley, beneficial to both plants ;>) I’ll have a look and see how they’re getting along now.

So, now I know what I’m doing where are my gloves and clogs?

Sleeping In the Forest

By Mary Oliver

I thought the earth remembered me,
she took me back so tenderly,
arranging her dark skirts, her pockets
full of lichens and seeds.
I slept as never before, a stone on the river bed,
nothing between me and the white fire of the stars
but my thoughts, and they floated light as moths
among the branches of the perfect trees.
All night I heard the small kingdoms
breathing around me, the insects,
and the birds who do their work in the darkness.
All night I rose and fell, as if in water,
grappling with a luminous doom. By morning
I had vanished at least a dozen times
into something better.

To which race of Middle Earth do you belong?

Thursday, November 17, 2005

Question Time

Watching question time tonight, it was appalling to see how many times the Conservatives agreed with Tony Blair’s policies.

Allegedly the education white paper will give greater autonomy to schools, although Shirley Williams trounced it. I know home educators who will be chuntering with me.

“What about autonomy for the children?”

Just as long as the children keep being forced into positions that are untenable, respond to brainwashing and Ritalin is available on the national heath why should anyone consider their needs?

How can we be living in a democracy when the two main political parties are in agreement over practically everything?

Anti-Authoritarianism Anarchist Assembly

Anti-Authoritarianism Anarchist Assembly
Saturday 03rd December, ULU (Room 3D), 2pm - 6pm

"The UK regime is quickly constructing a dystopian web of repression. Today's
ASBOs, injunctions and exclusion zones will soon be joined by biometric ID
cards, internment, blanket powers of arrest and summary justice. Laws against
'religious hatred', 'harassment' and 'glorification of terror' will criminalise
dissenting views. Shoot-to-kill policies and Civil Contingencies powers reframe
state executions as necessary to maintain order and preserve the official way
of life, it no longer matters whether the accused is guilty.

This cannot go on unchallenged, people should not be afraid of their
governments, governments should be afraid of their people. An organised
anarchist response to this situation has the potential to alter the balance of
power long after the last car stops burning, we must create a real state of
emergency and destroy this authoritarianism. With organisation, defiance, and
open resistance we always win.

This is an invitation for an open dialogue between all anarchist and
anti-authoritarians to discuss how we resist the authoritarianism of the state
in our day to day lives, in our local communities, and on an international
level. We need to co-ordinate our activities and actions, and work together to
start creating a world we desire, and destroy the one the rich have engineered.

The agenda for the meeting is open for all to contribute to, please email agenda
proposals to an_assembly@hushmail.com.

----- Please forward -----"

See you there?

Mother Dashabout

I was rushing through my local market and one of my neighbours called to me, I back tracked and apologized saying I was just A to Bing, he laughed and said “I know what you do you dash-about! I see you dashing about”

We laughed and spent a few minutes catching up his words made me think so later when I was out and about I made an effort not to dash, to stroll and take in the environment around me. To slow down and smell the roses.

London is not noted for rose growing but London is very good at growing people, London has traditionally offered safe refuge for people. This is a place where people have been given time and peace to get back on their feet again after persecution in their home country. They always dreamed of returning home but few do. Instead they stay and add to the multiculturalism of this wonderful city.

Some come for different reasons, the culture, the wealth of opportunities, to get away from small town England, I feel like I have seen them all today, each with our own reasons for being here, millions of us, all managing not to bump into each other, to be civil to each other sometimes even managing to smile at a complete stranger.

Each brings our own dish to the feast, the night skies have been a riot of fireworks for the past few weeks Divali, Eid, Halloween and Guy Fawkes all following each other each demanding fireworks. Wonderful clothes and beautiful sequined slippers, herbs and spices, exotic fruits freshly imported. We can all share and bring more of the whole world into our lives.

I enjoyed my walk today there were no scenic vistas, only an urban jungle with lots and lots of people. Interesting people, each with a part to play, some happy, some sad and no doubt some of them bad. I’m no Judge or Jury just an interested observer.

How does one eat a Dragon Fruit?

Museum of Immigration link:

http://www.19princeletstreet.org.uk/about.html

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Busta Returns

When I returned home from buying necessary supplies, and a new cat flap Busta was on my kitchen windowsill, he is bigger than ever, his fur has all grown back on his head, and though some of it has grown back white he looks very well. His black coat is shiny and he looks very muscular.

Geoff has disappeared with a scratch on his nose, it seems he is still the young pretender after all. Ginger was whittering away at the window but I kept her in. Little known fact that if a Queen cat has more than one lover whilst she is on heat they can all be the father of her kittens.

Trixiebelle however did manage to get out and led Busta a merry dance. A different black and white cat, which later tried to get in through the newly fitted cat flap, followed her home. Trixie wandered around for a while like the cat that got the cream, then cuddled up and is now fast asleep.

It was good to see Busta again, bigger and glossier than ever. It must be such a hard life for him. I love seeing him on top of his game.

I wonder how long this cat flap will last?

Tarot Books

I was in the charity shop earlier and not one but two tarot books fell into my hands, Tarot plain and simple and Tarot Mirror of the soul. What fab books.

The Tarot plain and simple is packed with loads of straight forward information. There are beautiful illustrations (black and white) of the Robin Wood Tarot deck, I know someone who works with this deck and finds it a very positive deck to work with. http://www.aeclectic.net/tarot/cards/robin-wood/index.shtml

The other is the handbook for the Aleister Crowley Tarot, I've always steered clear of Mr Crowley. However now I look at the book his symbolism is very clear, and an affirmation is given of each card. http://www.aeclectic.net/tarot/cards/aleister-crowley-thoth/index.shtml

My only dilema at the moment is how I come across the Tarot decks? I've wish listed them on Amazon where they've both received very good reviews :>)

I would like to be able to offer querants a choice as to which deck is used in a reading, I don't think everyone will appreciate the Housewives Tarot, which has kitch 50's style art work and is my current favourite. http://www.housewivestarot.com/

I've been Cat Burglared

There are a large number of cats sharing the same area, where I live, some we see all the time others not so often or only at night. The two big Tom cats who seem to be the Alpha males we see often they sit on the windowsill and gaze longingly at the Queen cats that live with me.

One of these Toms is a black and white old bruiser, he looks and walks more like a Staffordshire bull terrier than a cat, and he has a huge head, no neck and walks with a muscle bound swagger. His head is covered with scars and his eyes are always swollen. We call him Busta.

The other is a stripy grey and black with the most wonderful emerald green eyes, his nose is pink and when he yawns or meows his lips are black. It seems that he is younger, not so battered as Busta, for a while he followed Busta everywhere, then they had some terrible fights, now it’s most often this one gazing through the window. We call him Geoff.

Lately Geoff has been sitting on the back door step, he sits on one side of the door and Ginger, aptly named, was rolling around and cooing on the other side. It’s quite sweet to watch Ginger flirting with Geoff. There was a big fat dead rat in my garden a few days ago, it seems Geoff is tempting Ginger any way he can!

Last night I made sure the cat flap was closed and went to bed, I was woken by a commotion outside my bedroom door, as the cats never fight I was surprised and got up to see what all the commotion was about. When I looked I saw Geoff disappearing down the stairs, and the girls in a corner with their hair standing on end.

I followed Geoff down the stairs to find he had taken refuge in the larder, I had an instant picture of him, cornered, launching himself at me tooth and claw, so I retreated back up the stairs. By the time I had calmed down and retuned to the kitchen he had disappeared again. I wondered if he had somehow crept in and I hadn’t noticed before I went to bed, then I thought “The cat flap” when I looked he had not only broken in one way but, on being disturbed had broken back out again!

It seems Geoff really does like Ginger! I don’t know if he was successful, time will tell, Geoff hasn’t been around today so he might have had his wicked way.

Now then, who do I know that would like a sweet little kitten from a Witches cat?

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Norwegian Forest Cat

You are a person who is totally centered, and can only be described as "cool" by all who know you. You know your abilities as well as you flaws and are not overwhelmed by either. You could be the poster child for stress free living. In anothe life you might have been the Dali Lama, but you are perfectly happy with your own lot in life. Kind, gentle, and loving you are the perfect friend and mate.

So that's two of us hey Trixiebelle?

http://cats.about.com/cs/gamespuzzles/l/blwhtknd_twoq1.htm

Tarot Online

I’ve been giving tarot readings online and it’s been quite interesting. People e-mail me with a question and what area of their lives they’d like me to look into. I clear my mind, light a candle for truth shuffle the deck and lay a spread for them.

This is sometime harder than giving a reading to someone face to face; I don’t know anything about the person, not even if they are a man or a woman. Yet the feedback I have had has been “Describes my situation exactly” “Spot on!” etc.

How can this be? I am not making anything up, I am probably elaborating slightly less over the Internet, as it’s much easier to tell if a querant is interested in a particular card if they are in front of me.

Perhaps this is because The Tarot is a mirror of our own journey through life, the Major Arcana the more significant stages and the Minor Arcana the more subtle. We all think our life experiences are unique; Tarot shows us that although our individual experiences may be unique the pattern of our lives is broadly the same.

The Tarot can, somehow, show us where we are in the journey of life, and what is to be the likely outcome. To some people a Tarot reading can be a catalyst to enable them to see just where they are, perhaps for the first time.

There are ten cards in a Celtic Cross spread and seventy-eight cards in a Tarot deck, so there is a large scope for possible variations. Yet it is surprising how often the same cards come up for people. I suppose this may be because of factors in the mundane such as Winter coming up, Christmas coming up, environmental concerns are coming to the forefront of all of our lives.

Quite how Tarot cards manage to pin point just where a person is in life and how they are coping with it is a mystery, but they do seem to be able to, and they can be quite sharp in their message! It’s down to the skill of the reader to make the message as acceptable as possible to the querant. To convey the message in the cards in as diplomatic way as possible ~ that’ll be another learning curve then ~ Mother Damnable the diplomat.

Cue maniacal laughter

Two Witches

Two Witches ~A Modern Craft Fairy-Tale
by Mike Nichols

Once upon a time, there were two Witches. One was a Feminist Witch and the other was a Traditionalist Witch. And, although both of them were deeply religious, they had rather different ideas about what their religion meant. The Feminist Witch tended to believe that Witchcraft was a religion especially suited to women because the image of the Goddess was empowering and a strong weapon against patriarchal tyranny. And there was distrust in the heart of the Feminist Witch for the Traditionalist Witch because, from the Feminist perspective, the Traditionalist Witch seemed subversive and a threat to "the Cause".

The Traditionalist Witch tended to believe that Witchcraft was a religion for both men and women because anything less would be divisive. And although the Goddess was worshipped, care was taken to give equal stress to the God-force in nature, the Horned One. And there was distrust in the heart of the Traditionalist Witch for the Feminist Witch because, from the Traditionalist viewpoint, the Feminist Witch seemed like a late-comer and a threat to "Tradition". These two Witches lived in the same community but each belonged to a different Coven, so they did not often run into one another. Strange to say, the few times they did meet, they felt an odd sort of mutual attraction, at least on the physical level. But both recognized the folly of this attraction, for their ideologies were worlds apart, and nothing, it seemed, could ever bridge them.

Then one year the community decided to hold a Grand Coven, and all the Covens in the area were invited to attend. After the rituals, the singing, the magicks, the feasting, the poetry, and dancing were concluded, all retired to their tents and sleeping bags. All but these two. For they were troubled by their differences and couldn't sleep. They alone remained sitting by the campfire while all others around them dreamed. And before long, they began to talk about their differing views of the Goddess. And, since they were both relatively inexperienced Witches, they soon began to argue about what was the "true" image of the Goddess.

"Describe your image of the Goddess to me," challenged the Feminist Witch. The Traditionalist Witch smiled, sighed, and said in a rapt voice, "She is the embodiment of all loveliness. The quintessence of feminine beauty. I picture her with silver-blond hair like moonlight, rich and thick, falling down around her soft shoulders. She has the voluptuous young body of a maiden in her prime, and her clothes are the most seductive, gossamer thin and clinging to her willowy frame. I see her dancing like a young elfin nymph in a moonlit glade, the dance of a temple priestess. And she calls to her lover, the Horned One, in a voice that is gentle and soft and sweet, and as musical as a silver bell frosted with ice. She is Aphrodite, goddess of sensual love. And her lover comes in answer to her call, for she is destined to become the Great Mother. That is how I see the Goddess."

The Feminist Witch hooted with laughter and said, "Your Goddess is a Cosmic Barbie Doll! The Jungian archetype of a cheer-leader! She is all glitter and no substance. Where is her strength? Her power? I see the Goddess very differently. To me, she is the embodiment of strength and courage and wisdom. A living symbol of the collective power of women everywhere. I picture her with hair as black as a moonless night, cropped short for ease of care on the field of battle. She has the muscular body of a woman at the peak of health and fitness. And her clothes are the most practical and sensible, not slinky cocktail dresses. She does not paint her face or perfume her hair or shave her legs to please men's vanities. Nor does she do pornographic dances to attract a man to her. For when she calls to a male, in a voice that is strong and defiant, it will be to do battle with the repressive masculine ego. She is Artemis the huntress, and it is fatal for any man to cast a leering glance in her direction. For, although she may be the many-breasted Mother, she is also the dark Crone of wisdom, who destroys the old order. That is how I see the Goddess."

Now the Traditionalist Witch hooted with laughter and said, "Your Goddess is the antithesis of all that is feminine! She is Yahweh hiding behind a feminine mask! Don't forget that it was his followers who burned Witches at the stake for the "sin" of having "painted faces". After all, Witches with their knowledge of herbs were the ones who developed the art of cosmetics. So what of beauty? What of love and desire?"

And so the argument raged, until the sound of their voices awakened a Coven Elder who was sleeping nearby. The Elder looked from the Feminist Witch to the Traditionalist Witch and back again, saying nothing for a long moment. Then the Elder suggested that both Witches go into the woods apart from one another and there, by magick and meditation, that each seek a "true" vision of the Goddess. This they both agreed to do.

After a time of invocations, there was a moment of perfect stillness. Then a glimmer of light could be seen in the forest, a light shaded deepest green by the dense foliage. Both Witches ran toward the source of the radiance. To their wonder and amazement, they discovered the Goddess had appeared in a clearing directly between them, so that neither Witch could see the other. And the Traditionalist Witch yelled "What did I tell you!" at the same instant the Feminist Witch yelled "You see, I was right!" and so neither Witch heard the other.

To the Feminist Witch, the Goddess seemed to be a shining matrix of power and strength, with courage and energy flowing outward. The Goddess seemed to be holding out her arms to embrace the Feminist Witch, as a comrade in arms. To the Traditionalist Witch, the Goddess seemed to be the zenith of feminine beauty, lightly playing a harp and singing a siren song of seduction. Energy seemed to flow towards her. And she seemed to hold out her arms to the Traditionalist Witch, invitingly.

From opposite sides of the clearing, the Witches ran toward the figure of the Goddess they both loved so well, desiring to be held in the ecstasy of that divine embrace. But just before they reached her, the apparition vanished. And the two Witches were startled to find themselves embracing each other.

And then they both heard the voice of the Goddess. And, oddly enough, it sounded exactly the same to both of them. It sounded like laughter.

Guinness Punch

Ok for those of you who need to know Guinness Punch is a wonderful autumnal drink that I discovered this year.

We went to the South Bank Festival and I had Jerk Chicken and Rice and Peas for lunch, to compare the taste to what I've been cooking at home, at the stall they were offering Guinness punch but at £5.00 a drink I thought not!

When I got home I asked friends for their recipe for Guinness punch It's

Condensed milk, Guinness

Zap in the blender, pour over ice sprinkle the top with Nutmeg.

Mmmmmm Lovely, especially for those "Hair of the dog" days and when you need to eat but just can't face food. How much condensed milk and how much Guinness is really up to you dear reader.

Monday, November 14, 2005

Teenage angst!

Seems everyone has a story about their teenager I Thought I'd add mine because you just gotto love 'em.

My teenager had made me cross (Garum Masala on my Guinness punch) I had a bit of a rant then got busy with something.

About half an hour later my teen came to see me.

"Mum I'm an artist, I can't work if we're not friends and I've got lots of work to do."

Home or School?

Came across this fab link, and until I can face HTML I'll post it here.


http://www.jamboree.freedom-in-education.co.uk/

Flame Wars

Flame wars anyone?

Have you ever been on a list where the bickering is getting horrendous? The list is not moving forward because someone is nitpicking about the past? Before you even subbed!

Try this, it really works (Goddess knows how ;>)

It’s based on a song by King Crimson “Court of the Crimson King” lyrics at http://www.lyricsfreak.com/k/king-crimson/78591.html

Just post to your moderator or send a link to here :>)

The Court of the Crimson Queen

The rusted nails on coffin lids
Are shattered by the fun.
I fill my bong horizons changethe flame war has begun.
Through Dragons Mouth and Phoenix wings,
the Zees- they quickly glean;
The threads on a recent post,
from the Court of the Crimson Queen.
The keeper of The Book of Zees
Puts shutters on the dreams.
I wait outside my mail account with insufficient memes.
The Black King lights the flamers torch,
The Dragons mouth unclean;
To summon back the Primal Witch
To the Court of the Crimson Queen.
The gardener plants another meme while trampling on the hour.
I chase the form of a servitor beyond the sweet and sour.
The pattern juggler lifts her spell;
An orchestra obscene.
As slowly turns the keys to hell in the Court of the Crimson Queen.
On Thanksgiving mornings Zeelers laugh the wise ones share a toke;
I run to grasp divining signs
Although it's just a joke.
Contamination is diseased but always plants the meme
and smiles as the demons feast In the Court of the Crimson Queen.

By: Infekshun

LVX~A~

Bullying in Schools

Bullying in schools is becoming more and more prolific; children are subjecting each other to horrific attacks. What is going on and where is this coming from?

I think I have an insight into what is happening. Teachers are in a sulk. They are no longer allowed to hit children as a form of “discipline” So what can they do? They could apply a fair and just set of sanctions for unruly behaviour, children could be rewarded for good behaviour by a Star or points system. This system, again, to be applied fairly.

They have apparently decided not to do this and instead to keep order they play mind games with the children. They are bitchy to the girls and patronising to the boys. Teachers keep children in a permanent state of confusion as to what will happen and how they will be treated. If a child should object to this behaviour teachers will single out that child for special treatment. Yes the teacher will bully the child.

Bullying affects all children, not only the child being bullied but children observing the bullying will think that it’s OK to bully they know the teacher doesn’t like the child they are bullying and will believe that is how people we don’t like, for whatever reason, should be treated.

Why are the children who bully so frustrated and angry? The scale of the current attacks which are both prolonged and frenzied would seem to indicate quite a degree of bottled up aggression, I believe it is because of the behaviour of the teachers, children have a strong sense of fair play, they also understand when people are being unkind. Bullying tactics from adults are bound to upset children.

(I hesitate to add this but it is one of the characteristics of Indigo children that they understand that what hurts one of us hurts us all, they will react to unfairness by displaying anger and sometimes, this anger will be misdirected.)

Why is it that every time a child is bullied we are exhorted to look outside the school, to the television, to the “bullying culture” in society, to the behaviour of parents “No, no there’s no bullying here” head teachers declare. Government sanctions more powers for schools. I think it’s time we looked into the schools, into the behaviour of teachers, how are children treated by adults at school?

I believe a lot of people would be shocked, not least by the number of times teaching staff will undermine parents, “Your dad doesn’t know everything” “Your mum isn’t always right” etc. It’s about time society really looked at teachers, their abilities, their attitude and their knowledge and understanding of life. They have a huge responsibility to parents to ensure that children are treated fairly at school, that they do not undermine parents, and that they do teach our children to the best of their ability.

Teacher is not always right, I think our grandparents had the right idea when they referred to teachers as “Little tin gods” “Men amongst boys, boys amongst men” They said of teachers “Those who can do and those that can’t teach” They looked into the behaviour of a child’s teacher and reacted accordingly.

Once society stops treating teachers like little tin gods and again bears in mind that teachers and children are human after all, we may begin to address the problem of children hurting each other at school. Until then we are just wading through the smokescreen.

That does seem to be the plan though, isn’t it Mr Blair?