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As a species, are humans getting dumber, or does instant access to information just make it seem that way? A couple of stories in today’s news have me pondering pandering as what was once journalism jigs toward justification with revenue being the mighty motivator.

Starting with all the flap over the President of the United States addressing the nation’s school children, I admit to being aghast. Although I agree that it was totally wrong for Dan Quayle to insist kids spell potato incorrectly, the country’s leaders are supposed to be role models, inspirational … every kid has the potential to be, etc. … and it is rather the job of the President to LEAD, even kids.

This article from the Heritage Foundation takes issue with that whole ‘leadership’ thing, apparently, reducing the office of the President to a political entity without merit .

Parents across the country have raised alarm about President Obama’s planned “back to school” address to American students. When the Department of Education released a lesson plan that included asking youngsters—how can you help President Obama?—parents’ concern that their children were being “organized” for political purposes was justified.

Helping the President is now a bad thing that children are to be turned away from, protected from the idea of? There’s a concept history will not take kindly to.

I won’t bother making too much of a point about the fact that math skills seem to be lacking at the Heritage Foundation … “This year, American taxpayers will spend $10,000 per-student on the average students’ public school education this year. A kindergartener starting school this year can expect to have $100,000 spent on his or her education.” … but will say that $7,692.31 per child per year is peanuts.

Considering the fact that Americans spent more than $66 billion on soft drinks in 2004 … and probably more than that in 2008 … that less-that-ten-grand (do the math) sounds meager.

And speaking of how things sound …

Yet for millions of kids, this six-figure investment will lead to dismal results.

doesn’t sound good. Turn it around, however, and talk about the millions of kids who make the most out of under-funded education, graduate from high school, go through college, establish successful careers, head up companies, raise families and keep the world spinning and the picture shifts from a boo hiss to hearty hoorays accompanied by no few thank-our-lucky-stars.

Arguments over a Presidential address to American children should have been nothing more than a tempest in tepid tea, sour grapes grumbling from some of those who didn’t get enough votes to be running the show right now. Contrary to the general welfare, however, the rabble raises revenue so rates regurgitation.

Of course, this isn’t only an American phenomenon. Over in Europe, they’re getting the short end of the stick from the press as it goes to great lengths to make a tall tale out of French President Sarkozy’s stature … as if his wife wearing flats proves he’s a heel when it comes to running a country.

The BBC headlines the story, “Sarkozy height row grips France”, and if that’s not insulting … even to the French (which might very well be the point, since this is from the BBC) … well …

Mass media … short on substance, but long on prevarication. Why? Because it sells.

We’ll be shortchanged as long as we keep buying it. Shouldn’t we have loftier goals?

Are we having fun yet?

Fuck itWall … ouch. Wall … ouch. Wall … ouch. Wall … ouch.

Just call me Lumpy and hand me a helmet, please.

My house may be made of wood, but brick walls are everywhere, and I’m bloody tired of banging my head against them.

Spin, spin, spin, stop, step forward and, smack! … the wall of sadness. It gets no thinner, no shorter, and I’ve yet to find a door through. I’m learning every chink and seek out some when I need to feel specific pain in a hurts-so-good sort of way when I worry about scabbing over.

Spin again, step, bang, and it’s fear I run into.The how-the-hell-am-I-going-to-make-it and where-the-hell-am-I-going wall that sends me stumbling down dark corridors searching for the tiniest flicker of light somewhere, anywhere.

Spin, lurch, and smack into loneliness, missing people, yearning, regret.

Turn away from that one and slam straight into frustration, had-enough-of-this-shit, doing-the-best-I-can-why-isn’t-it-enough exhaustion that makes me want to lie down on the cold, hard floor and curl up into a ball.

Some days are better than others. This is not one of those days.

As regular readers know, my household is international in every sense. One of the results of being born in one place and living in others can be dual nationality, or, in some cases, even triple the legal connections to countries.

My hope is that sooner or later we humans, with our inbred tendencies to inbreed out of xenophobic compulsion, will grasp the idea that divisions are arbitrary, and as bipedal primates we are more similar than we are different no matter where the heck we popped onto the planet.

Not that we’ve grown any closer to accepting that basic fact over the centuries, as illustrated in a recent post, and with so much at stake … power and money being at the root, of course … keeping divisions in place makes a lot of sense to a lot of people.

“Divide and conquer’, also known as “divide and rule”, divide et impera, is such an easy strategy that most don’t even think to question the wisdom, true necessity and history of this long-standing tactic.

The use of this strategy was imputed to administrators of vast empires, including the Roman and British, who were charged with playing one tribe against another to maintain control of their territories with a minimal number of imperial forces. The concept of “Divide and Rule” gained prominence when India was a part of the British Empire, but was also used to account for the strategy used by the Romans to take Britain, and for the Anglo-Normans to take Ireland. It is said that the British used the strategy to gain control of the large territory of India by keeping its people divided along lines of religion, language, or caste, taking control of petty princely states in India piecemeal.

Extrapolate it out globally and wonder why, in today’s world of instant communication, ease of peregrination and cultural blending, the need for lines drawn on maps exists.

How much energy goes into defending borders that are nothing more than artificial designations, and how many people die in the process of attempting to keep invisible lines etched in sand holding back floods?

Of course, keeping the enthusiasm for an outpouring of resources and blood is of the utmost importance, so whipping up a constant frenzy of “we’re better … and different … than you are” is a mission passionately embraced.

It’s not like fencing folks in and calling them a People solves the problem of unity. We maintain our tribal affiliations no matter what neighborhood we’re tied to, so eliminating a a few specifications would hardly rob us of an opportunity to look down upon our fellow man with scorn over eye color or choice of peanut butter.

So why not get past the archaic notion that soil defines?

Well, for one thing, a lot of people would be out of work. Keeping things separate is big business and multiple governments employ millions. If, for example, geography, not politics, dictated affiliation and Canada, the US and Mexico were to be considered the same place with one set of grand plans and one set of workers charged with overseeing those plans a lot of offices in all three places would be empty.

This is a ridiculous idea, though, since Canadians, Americans and Mexicans represent completely different species.

Aliens, that’s the word.

Oh! Gee. That’s not correct. They are no more different from each other than are Oregonians from New Yorkers, yet those admittedly diverse groups manage to exist within the same broader borders.

So, where does the advantage lie? What do we get out of divisions, other than conquered and ruled, and why do we not ask this question often?

Wondering how I got on this kick today?

It all started with an emailed newsletter from the US Embassy in Mauritius … another small island nation in the Indian Ocean that spends a fortune making sure its government is a distinct entity … that included the following:

Almost all male U.S. citizens (including dual nationals) and male aliens living in the U.S. who are 18 through 25 are required to register with the Selective Service.

If a man does not register, he could be prosecuted and fined up to $250,000 and/or be jailed for up to five years. Registration is a requirement to qualify for Federal student aid, job training benefits, and most Federal employment. Even if not tried, a man who fails to register with the Selective Service before turning age 26 may find that some doors are permanently closed.

As the mother of a Cambodian-born son living in Seychelles with a British passport I can’t help but react to this negatively and fall back to thinking that begging the American government to make Sam a citizen will not be a priority.

The world is a small place, we are citizens of this world, and I do my damnedest to teach my kids that there are no limits to where they can contribute and to whom they can feel connected.

If walls could talk …

Photo Credit: AFP

Photo Credit: AFP

Archeology has long been an interest of mine, and if my life had gone according to plans made when I was about nine I would have spent a good deal of time digging around places like the Olduvai Gorge, doing my utmost to follow Mary Leakey’s immense footsteps, or looking for the roots of Quetzalcoatl at Tenochtitlan.

Of course, it turns out that John Lennon was right … life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans … but the physical evidence of history continues to fascinate me.

This story demanded my attention today, and set me toward a mental meander I’ve been wandering for hours.

A 3,700-year-old wall has been discovered in east Jerusalem, Israeli archaeologists say.

The structure was built to protect the city’s water supply as part of what dig director Ronny Reich described as the region’s earliest fortifications.

The 26-ft (8-m) high wall showed the Canaanite people who built it were a sophisticated civilisation, he said.

I’ll completely ignore the mention of the fact that the guy in charge of the dig has the surname “Reich” and move along to the more salient points, one being the stunningly naive statement attributed to him about the wall showing “… the Canaanite people who built it were a sophisticated civilization” that I’m hoping was an under-educated reporter’s version and not words actually uttered by an archeologist.

Considering that the Canaanites came up with the alphabet … their city of Byblos was the inspiration for the Greek word for book and hence Bible … figured out how to navigate and set up major ports and trading posts from Britain to Africa shipping and selling everything from salt to wine to ebony, started the first lending institutions, and had a system of government that included legal rights for women that allowed them to sue, invest and even adopt children, a wall that managed to stick around for almost 4,000 years seems superfluous to need when it comes to defining “sophisticated civilization”.

Even slaves … and everyone had slaves in those days … got a fair shake:

As was commonplace in the ancient days, there were slaves, but laws protected them from mistreatment and authorized payment to them in redress of grievances. They could earn their own money, purchasing property and eventually their own freedom. A freed slave could reach high office.

Let’s also not forget that the Canaanites were named for the color purple …Kinakhu: the purple people .. since they were the only source for the die that indicates royalty to this day.

Jump ahead 3,700 years … Shall we? … and take a gander at our modern world and the progress humankind has made in almost 4 millennia. We could start with the fact that the method of making purple from sea snails is a long-lost art, then move along to the mess the Middle East is so well known for these days, as witnessed by reaction to the discovery of this old wall:

Critics say Israel uses such projects as a political tool to bolster Jewish claims to occupied Palestinian land.

Perhaps if ancient walls could talk we’d learn a lesson or two. If nothing else, maybe we’d rethink our arrogance, our perpetual self-congratulatory back patting over our advancements, our short-sighted claims of enlightenment, and realize that we’ve not come a long way, Baby, at all.

Ketchup

Sam and Cj on and adventure with Gay and Carlos

Sam and Cj on and adventure with Gay and Carlos

Ooooh, lookie here … a brief window in the pickle that’s been gerkin me around lately, taking up my thyme, so how about a little ketchup?

We’re enjoying the last week of the holiday, as Sam and Cj start school again on Monday. Sam will be in Year 2 and Cj in what’s called Reception 2, and both are looking forward to getting back in the education saddle.

We’ve not done a heck of a lot over the couple of months they’ve been free from schedules, but have hit the beach more than usual and enjoyed leisurely breakfasts at The Pirate’s Arms … which is not the same as IN A pirate’s arms.

Irina, a lovely Russian friend, took Sam to Praslin and LaDigue, and Gay has invited both kids to adventure and hyake (That’s hike and kayak on the same day … sounds much better than saying they kiked.) a few times.

With guests here — Carlos, Kim, Cade — excuses to be out and about were easily available, so we took advantage and showed the sites of Victoria, both of them, which managed to fill a couple of 15 minute slots that would have otherwise been spent sitting on the veranda gazing at the sea.

Party fun with Violeta, Mel and Lio ...

Party fun with Violeta, Mel and Lio ...

I’ve had many laughs at great parties lately. Sadly, some of my favorite friends here are coming to the end of their Seychelles time and are soon to move along, but that no longer stops any of us from enjoying what we have while we do, and staying in touch no matter the distance in future.

Diversion has been good for me. I’m okay most of the time now, but do get sideswiped by sadness on a regular basis. Some days are better than others, but even on the bad days now there is comfort in the fact that this hole I live with in my heart will refuse to heal; I don’t want it to scar over, not ever.

Ernesto, me and Carola in Basel in July

Ernesto, me and Carola in Basel in July

Ernesto is headed to Seychelles at the end of the month for a five week stay, and I’ve been laying the groundwork for him to play here … a lot. He’ll be doing guitar workshops for the National Arts Council, giving group lessons for music students at the French School and performing.

We’re all looking forward to having him around for quite a while, and Sam is working on his Spanish in order to expand a repertoire of mutual banter that is presently limited to little more than pollo loco.

So, life is what it is, and as the summer from hell draws to an end I’m not sorry to see it fade into past. 2010 looms and I have hopes that arbitrary designation contains more happiness sandwiched between its bun than its predecessors 2008/2009.

Pass the mustard …

International Pizza

It’s time to take a break from outrage and post some bits of life here on this island for those of you who actually like sharing my life with me.

I’ve written before about the wonderful people with whom I’m blessed to spend time … a smart, funny, lovely and international gang … and as it goes here, new people join in as others move along.

Going away get-togethers are a bittersweet aspect of Seychelles living, and I’ve been to a few lately. The other night was such an event … Violeta is leaving for some months … so a dinner at Sam’s Pizzeria was on the plate.

As always, many countries were represented, and if the UN could do half the job around the table at creating global warm fuzzies as we do the world would be a much better place.

Check out the smiling faces …

Me and Sam ... that's the US, Seychelles and Cambodia

Me and Sam ... that's the US, Seychelles and Cambodia

Deb ... a Yorkshire lass ... and Cj

Deb ... a Yorkshire lass ... and Cj

Violeta, from Serbia

Violeta, from Serbia

Laura is Italian

Nathalie is from Lebanon

Nathalie is from Lebanon

Lio and Carlos ... that's France listening to Spain

Lio and Carlos ... that's France listening to Spain

Photo credits: Sam Benoiton

A one-two punch of stories in today’s news would not have seemed to follow taken individually, but when set side-by-side an obvious tango appears.

The first, this out of China, is about a four-fold increase in profits seen by the state oil company, Sinopec.

Fuel price reforms have allowed price hikes that have been repeating bundles.

Sinopec reported a net income of 33.2bn yuan ($4.8bn; £2.9bn) for the six months to the end of June, compared with 7.7bn yuan a year earlier.

… “It is anticipated that the result of [the] first three quarters of 2009 will be over 50% higher compared with the same period of last year … ”

Oil companies making money in today’s global economy may sound like a positive ramping up that could fuel growth … for those who consider growth always positive … but that brings me to the next report.

In Africa, leaders are gathering to talk about climate change.

Captioned, “Africa is set to suffer the worst impacts of climate change”, the implications should not be underplayed.

Under the auspices of the African Union, the meeting will underline the chief African demand for compensation for damages caused by global warming.

The move to agree a common negotiating platform for Africa is a recognition of the failure of the continent to make its voice heard to date.

One of the documents prepared for the meeting talks about the “dismal co-ordination” of the African negotiation process.

Fine and dandy, yes?

Considering the aggressive courting China is now doing in Africa, maybe not.

The reality of the UN climate negotiations is that the US, China, India and the European Union have the greatest sway.

Failing to recognize a link between increasing oil consumption and profits for that consumption in China and climate change in Africa would be missing a major point, and if Africa is set to “demand compensation for damages caused by global warming” at the same time China is buying the continent wholesale, we have a conflict, folks.

Not only is Africa more than willing to take just about whatever China is wiling to give, and they give a LOT in the way of construction, development, cash … whatever … African countries also vote in the UN General Assembly — line on the left, one vote each — and those votes go a long way toward keeping the Chinese government away from accountability and closer to doing whatever the heck they want in ways that can’t help but get that climate change thing going through the roof, or the ozone layer, as the case actually will be.

We’ve all seen images of drought in Ethiopia, the venue for the African talks … starving children, dead cattle, millions of people in camps begging for a grain of anything to keep them alive one more day … but reading about four-fold profits on oil in China may not trigger a response that connects to those images nor seem the potentially devastating blow it truly is.

It’s not a vacuum we live in … if it was, the world would be cleaner … and what happens in one corner of the globe impacts us all, some much more drastically than others.

Panties aside …

Since a post with panties in the title has attracted thousands of hits even though the topic was women’s rights and the panties mentioned were “big girl” with an admonition to pull them on and change the world, I’m wearing mine again … and, no, I won’t be offering multi-day-worn undies on Japanese eBay, no matter how much pocket money that provides schoolgirls there … hoping to get folks who may not tune their dials to the plight of the world’s female population to give a read, and perhaps even a thought.

The recent subject has revolved around the question of how and why a a planet with inhabitants that are more than 50% of the girl persuasion gets away with treating that majority like shit. The answer may be as simple as: Because it can.

The minority most certainly has a vested interest in keeping up this sucky status quo, as illustrated by this load of protected bollocks:

Conservative clerics in Iran have criticised a proposal by re-elected President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad to include three women in his new cabinet.

“There are religious doubts over the abilities of women when it comes to management,” said hardline lawmaker Mohammad Taghi Rahbar.

He said his views were shared by many MPs from his clerics’ faction, which dominates Iran’s parliament.

Yep. He’s afraid his gnarled set of piyaz torshi will sink to the bottom of a bowl of turshulu aash and his bullshit will never float again if women have the power to do more than run households, live within budgets, oversee families and all that other stuff that keeps him and his cronies going.

But it’s not only men dedicated to the perpetuation of perpetual misery for their own mothers, sisters, daughters and wives doing damage.

Take women in Mali for an example …

Tens of thousands of people in Mali’s capital, Bamako, have been protesting against a new law which gives women equal rights in marriage.

The law, passed earlier this month, also strengthens inheritance rights for women and children born out of wedlock.

The head of a Muslim women’s association says only a minority of Malian women – “the intellectuals” as she put it – supports the law.

Amazing how often “intellectual” is spat toward a supposedly thinking world like a shit-covered fly … wouldn’t want to swallow anything having to do with smart now, would we?

And intellectual women? OMG! Stop them. Stop them now … and while you’re at it, beat them and throw acid in their faces.

Which brings us to this, right back where we started a couple of days ago in Afghanistan … a story in the NYTimes about acid attacks on girls in Kandahar who have the temerity to go to school.

… Through the mask, he asked Shamsia what seemed like a strange question.

“Are you going to school?”

The masked man pulled the scarf away from Shamsia’s face and, with his other hand, pumped the trigger on his spray gun. Shamsia felt as if her face and eyes were on fire. As she screamed, the masked man reached for Atifa, who was already running. He pulled at her and tore her scarf away and pumped the spray into her back. The men sped off toward another group of girls. Shamsia lay in the street holding her burning face.

I hold out some hope that outrage will replace apathy and that we eventually approach the tipping point where women will have finally had enough of this and turn the tables … and chairs and beds.

Watch out world when that happens, because the backlash is gonna be fierce.

Have I mentioned that my friend Gay spouts her solution far and wide … and with no little support resulting? The plan? Universal Male Castration. Since the announcement of the creation of artificial sperm, her arguments for a world where balls are just beach toys is getting more attention.

The ever-more-rapid passing of time captures my attention, albeit fleetingly since a quick ponder is all there is ever time for, so a headline from the BBC today grabbed both of my eyes.

ANCIENT DIAL SOLVES TIME RIDDLE

“Ah ha!” thought I. “As unlikely as it may be, the Beeb sorts it.”

But no.

It’s a story about how a sundial on the Firth of Forth kept monks from wandering from the mandated lockstep of nibble, work, pray, sleep, nibble.

Aside from some minor astonishment that a sundial would do jack in a place as often perpetually dark as Scotland can be, the idea that Augustinian brothers were compelled to wrangle time into digestible tidbits fails to shed light on anything at all.

As limited by our biology as humans are, we mere mortals can only grasp what we can wrap our brains around … see a recent tangent on this … and providing boxes for those bits we have a handle on is so, so handy.

So, we make boxes for minutes and hours and days and weeks, and on an on, and fill those as we see fit.

Some are so attached to the labels on the boxes that confusion results; the labels are deemed actual as if the contents … and keep in mind that the boxes themselves are nothing more than figments … constitute matter that matters.

Conveniently, the BBC provides evidence of this today, too.

An Australian scientist says the continent needs five or six seasons to suit its climate.

Tim Entwisle, chief of Sydney’s Royal Botanic Gardens, says Australia should “unhook” itself from the “arbitrary” four seasons it inherited from Britain.

Mr Entwisle has proposed “sprummer” – the season between spring and summer – and “sprinter” – an early spring.

He says a new system could help people better understand their environment and monitor signs of climate change.

“Having four three-month seasons… doesn’t make any sense in the place we live,” he told Australia’s public broadcaster ABC News.

The continent needs 5 or 6 seasons to suit its climate? Hm.

Allow me to mention that the continent needs nothing at all from hapless inhabitants; it was there a few bazillion years before bipedalism became de rigueur and will still be there … with some sort of climate, as a nuclear winter snow falling with no one to see it could sound much like a tree falling in the forest … long after we fuck up the planet so badly that our frail forms go tits up.

May I, also, point out to Mr. Entwisle that it matters not the least what the heck name humans put, the globe spins and stuff happens?

He has suggested holding a national debate on the subject, and a public competition to name the new seasons.

If Australians need more boxes, that’s okay by me, even though it seems a silly waste of time … which is not linear and cares not one whit as it passes faster every day … which is an arbitrary designation based on where one happens to stand on this rotating globe.

Time marches on … or doesn’t, if that non-linear thing clicks … whether or not we attach names to its bits, and there’s something smacking of ‘too precious’ in the compulsion to confine the nebulous rather than attempt to appreciate the amorphous nature of stuff we can’t hang a handle on.

I wrote the other day about a ghastly new law that allows Afghan husbands to starve wives that refuse sex … a story that garnered outrage and inspired an onslaught of “united condemning”, as utterly useless as that may be, from many corners of the world.

Fine.

Dandy.

Aren’t we in the developed world just oh-so-smug in our condemnation of those who trample on women? Or are we?

A couple of stories in today’s news slap back that idea a tad.

First, from the UK … and Gordon Brown was amongst the loud singers in the anti-Afghan choir … this little ditty on domestic abuse in that country and how they are just getting around to, and falling short of, protecting women from beatings.

The Home Office says conviction rates among those cases which make it to court have risen from 60% to 72% over four years. However, some charities have previously noted a rise in reports of domestic violence as a result of the economic downturn.

Refuge, a charity which helps victims of domestic violence, has welcomed the changes to the rules on restraining orders. But it says it is essential the government provides the courts and the police with the resources and training to implement the orders effectively.

Well, there’s a thought …

And from a society that considers itself very well behaved, this out of Japan:

… the world’s second-biggest economy ranked 54th in the world in terms of gender equality.

It was concerned over the low legal penalty for rape and the widespread availability in Japan of violent pornography …

Add this to a 6-month waiting period between marriages that applies only to women, “unequal laws on marriage, the treatment of women in the labour market and the low representation of women on elected bodies”, and other facts of life faced by women in Japan daily, and that modern culture can stop thumbing its nose.

I am in no way condoning what’s going on in Afghanistan, but shaking my head over … and my finger at … a gender gap that exists in 2009. And what is with that?

Come on, ladies … we outnumber them, so why do we still put up with this shit in huge numbers?

I’m as guilty as the next broad, I know, when it comes to buying into the “less-than” bullshit, and that pisses me off with me.

It dawned only recently that, contrary to what my ex rammed down my throat, I actually CAN speak Creole and drive at night … even at the same time when required. Go figure! Yes, he had me convinced that both were beyond my tiny capabilities and that I needed him to talk and drive for me.

BOLLOCKS … on a plate, chopped and salted …

Why did I buy this sack full of bogus and limiting shit? Ya got me, but I did, and for a long time.

So, slap me sideways and call me a pussy … and while you’re at it, wake the power within and help the world’s women to put on their big girl panties. We’ve been wimps for way too long.

And, you know what? Those men in charge? They’re nothing special …