No gods, no kings, no billionaires
Nelson Mandela, in an interview with MSNBC:
“If you look at those matters, you will come to the conclusion that the attitude of the United States of America is a threat to world peace. Because what [America] is saying is that if you are afraid of a veto in the Security Council, you can go outside and take action and violate the sovereignty of other countries. That is the message they are sending to the world. That must be condemned in the strongest terms.”
I’ve just signed up with Schoolbank.nl, a Dutch web site that does the same kind of thing as Classmates.com, only, er, in Dutch. Not many people from the Bernardinuscollege have signed up yet, but the site looks to be pretty solid and easy to use, so I’m hopeful about it attracting more old classmates.
You see, every now and then I get curious about what the people I went to school with are doing now. I go Googling for names from the past, but so far I’ve only found a handful of folk. I’m not sure if I want to get back in touch again (for one thing, my Dutch is now at best “gebrekkig”, and I’m a little embarrassed about that), but it’s fun to see what they’re up to, what they’ve done with their lives, and whether they’re happy.
Using four search engines as my primary tools (Google, AllTheWeb, Altavista, and Ilse), I have found the names of half a dozen or so others scattered around the web, but without photos attached to them. If there’s no picture, it’s hard to tell if that is really the person I’m looking for. (Which makes me think that I should probably attach a picture of myself to my own home page. Right now, I don’t have any obvious links to any photos. You’d have to know to go to Alex’s home page, and then flip through the images there to see me.)
To be honest, I’m a little surprised not to have found more people from my class. I would have thought that by now more of them would have had their own home page. Maybe I’m not casting my search net wide enough, but more likely they all have better things to do than blog. If I really wanted to track them down, I would start making contact through the variety of email addresses I’ve found, but I’m not that dedicated. I certainly wouldn’t turn away any contacts from old classmates, but seeing their photographs is enough to keep me happy for now.
On Wednesday morning we drove up to Aberdeen to see my Grandma. After some lunch, we drove out to Ballater. We checked in to our hotel (the Auld Kirk), then went out for a short wander back into the village. It had been a gloriously sunny day, and the afternoon was just starting to cool off with a fresh breeze. Alex played around on the grass next to the church, and had a great time waving bye-bye to the big buses as they finished their routes and parked in the depot.
In the evening we had dinner at Johnson’s Restaurant, which is part of the hotel. Before we went in, we had drinks in the lounge, and Alex flirted outrageously with the folks at the table next to ours. Really–it was quite shocking. He was turned around in his chair, ducking down behind the back and popping up again with a “boo!” and a shy little grin.
The meal itself was okay, but not more than that. I’ll describe it in a separate review soon.
The next morning we got up to a hearty breakfast, and learned that Alex really doesn’t like porridge. Fortunately, the carpet didn’t show all the spatters very clearly. Afterwards we had another wander into the village, so that Grandma could buy Alex something from the Ballater toy shop. So Grandma has now bought stuff for three generations of kids in my family there now. When my mum and aunt were children, they took holidays in Ballater, and the same toy shop was there. And I remember going there when I was young, too. So now it’s Alex’s turn! I wonder if he’ll carry on the tradition if he eventually has children. I’m sure the toy shop will still be there…
Just before noon we drove onwards to Braemar, in the hope of winning another car. Alex fell asleep on the way, and stayed asleep while we got him out of the car, walked to the Fife Arms hotel, and sat down for a cup of coffee. When he woke up, we headed over to the Alldays shop where we bought the winning packet of film two years ago, but alas, there was no such luck this year. I had found a penny in the street earlier in the day, but even its luck couldn’t reveal more than two matching amounts on the scratchcard. Oh well.
What we lacked in lottery fortune, we made up for in spades with a good hour and a half spent in the grounds of the Braemar Highland Games. The morning haze had lifted, and the grounds were mostly sheltered from the breeze. We sat on the benches while Alex played with his ball, and toddled all around the field. Abi did some cartwheels, which Alex found completely mind-blowing. He clapped and went “yay!” and made Abi do it again and again. He even tried to imitate her, bending over and putting his hands and head on the ground in a partial handstand! I chipped in with a couple of forward rolls, which he enjoyed as well, but not quite to the same extent. I also lifted him up and spun him around a couple of times so that he could be just as cool as his mommy.
I can watch him play for hours. He finds fun and fascination in the littlest of things: rocks, a fence, a bench. Anything can be a toy. You don’t need any fancy battery-operated gizmos. All you need is something you can throw, sort, climb on, or run around. Adults usually need to accessorise their play, but children don’t. Their joy is simple. Whenever I join in with Alex, I find myself getting absorbed in the properties of flaking paint, or in the countless things you can do with handfuls of gravel. I can lose myself in the concentration and delight of his play. It makes me feel young and carefree again.
Eventually, though, it was time to head back. We stopped off again in Ballater for some afternoon tea and cakes, and managed to leave behind Alex’s little blue backpack–the one that clips on to his carrier backpack, in which we keep his changing kit, spare clothes, and backup biscuits. Unfortunately, we didn’t notice this until we left Grandma’s in the evening, and wanted to change his nappy. Fortunately, though, the nice folks at the tea room found it and kept hold of it, and will be putting it in the post to us.
We had considered going out to dinner again, but we were all still pretty full from the previous night, a big breakfast, and the afternoon cakes. So we ended up stopping off at Asda, picking up some cold meats, and having a nice little sit down meal in Grandma’s kitchen. We had also considered staying on in Aberdeenshire for another night. Maybe drive out West or North, find someplace to stay, and then do some more wandering around the next day. But it was getting late, we were getting a bit tired, Alex hadn’t slept too well the previous night, and we just didn’t think we’d get enough enjoyment out of another night in a hotel to make it worth our while. So at just before eight, we set off home again.
We had a fabulous time. And Alex is old enough now to know that he enjoyed himself, too. Because just before we left, he toddled over to Grandma, took the noo-noo out of his mouth, and stuck his face and mouth up to give her a kiss. He loves his Grandma, and she loves him.
This morning I wrote a letter to Nigel Griffiths, MP for Edinburgh South. Then, while we were out shopping this afternoon, I hand delivered the letter to his constituency office. Mr Griffiths himself wasn’t there at the time, but his assistant assured me that he would get the letter when he was back in the office this afternoon, and that he would be writing to all concerned constituents who had contacted him. Sounds good. I’m interested to see what his position is.
I’ve attached the text of the letter below.
I’m sick of being encouraged to remember the people who died in the attacks on the Twin Towers last year. The more the memory of their deaths is used to fan the flames of hatred, the more this memory becomes corrupted and evil.
I think it’s time we started remembering the Afghanis who died as a result of Western bombings.
It’s time to remember the Palestinians who have been killed as a result of George W. giving Israel carte blanche to murder innocent civilians in the name of the “War against Terrorism”.
And it’s time to remember that if we attack Iraq, thousands more people will die than were killed on September 11th last year.
Not in my name. Punish the perpetrators, but not their families.
The Media Workers Against War web site currently features a link to the “Fax Your MP” web site (http://www.faxyourmp.com/). If you enter your postcode on this web site, it will look up who your MP is. You can then type a message to the MP, which the folks who run the web site will then fax to the MP in question. (I assume they’ve got this automated, instead of having to do all the faxes manually.)
You can use the service to get in touch with your MP about all kinds of issues, but right now it makes sense to use it to make your views known about a war on Iraq. It’s a quick and easy way to remind your MP that they are supposed to represent their constituents in parliament, and not their party’s whip.
Yeah, right.
In a capitalist world, monopolies are considered bad because they destroy (the illusion of) consumer choice. Oligopolies are just as bad: a shared monopoly is no improvement for customers. Likewise, in a democratic world, a monopoly on policial choice is bad for citizens’ rights. And a two-party system is just a shared monopoly on political power.
If you typically support Party A and despise Party B, what do you do when Party A starts acting unreasonably? Go to the opposition? Even temporarily, just to get the message across? Great–that leaves you with Party B in power afterwards. A two-party system is almost as bad as having no choice at all.
What incentive do MPs have to actually listen to their constituents, and put forward their views in parliament? The thought of being removed from their seat at the next election? Well, if they’re high enough up in party hierarchy, then the party will just parachute them into a safe seat the next time one comes available.
For a politician who wants to keep their job, it may therefore be a better strategy to climb the party hierarchy, and keep on the good side of their leaders, than to do what they were supposedly elected to do: represent the people who voted for them.
Which is why we in Britain are currently in the situation that well over 50% of the population do not want to attack Iraq, yet our Prime Minister is spouting the rhetoric of full-on war like it’s some inevitability.
It’s also why someone like George Bush can become President of the United States.
What’s the answer? I don’t know. What can be done in practical terms? Right now, we have to get the message across to our so-called leaders that they will face massive revolt if we step up hostilities against Iraq. (I say step up, because preliminary action has been underway for some time now.)
In Britain, the Prime Minister is not elected by the public. The public elects the MPs, and then the governing party elects the PM. By the same token, the PM can be removed by the governing party as well. Does the will exist within the Labour Party to do this if Tony Blair takes Britain into a war? (Also, if the country is at war, is the cabinet even obliged to allow a vote of no confidence?)
When I first saw the “Fax Your MP” thing on MWAW, I thought I would do that. But now I think I want to actually write out a letter to my MP (Nigel Griffiths) and properly hand sign it. Will Mr Griffiths pay more attention to a letter than to a fax? Probably not. But it feels more appropriate, somehow.
Will this all make a difference? Again, I don’t know. But it’s pretty clear that in this oligarchic excuse for a democracy going to the polls once every four or five years is just not enough any more.
