As dazzling as my brief soirée into serious, journalistic blogging was, I'm afraid the ride is over.

What with university beginning soon, and all sorts of events occurring in my normally quiet life, I've decided that politics should be left to the professionals, and that doesn't include a small golden-haired English fellow.

If you want to remain in contact, or if you (out of some masochistic desire) want to read my other blog, it is found here:
Shake Well Before Use

I'm sorry to be leaving this blog, you've been a great, and captive audience.

Cal.x

Debate

A 16 year old, Jesse Lange points out the hypocrisy of the conservative news reader. He does it with such calmness, despite being called a "pinhead" that it's impossible for him not to come off as the more mature, and level-headed member of the discussion.

Paris in the Springtime

It seems that maybe Paris hasn't got away with it after all, an L.A judge has ordered her back to court to decide whether or not she should spend the rest of her sentence in prison.


This bit really wound me up:
In a statement following her release, Hilton thanked the Sheriff's Department and jail personnel "for treating me fairly and professionally."
"I have learned a great deal from this ordeal and hope that others have learned from my mistakes," she said.

Three days is not an ordeal. Three days is a weekend break.

The Most Hated Family in America.

I recently had the misfortune to watch a daytime-tv programme which features the Phelps family, from Kansas. They represent the Westboro' Baptist Church which, having 71 members, is hardly a large institution.

I apologise if anybody sympathises with the family's viewpoint, but if so, you deserved to be called out. I welcome any debate.

That said however, they make up for their lack of size through the vitriolic and hate-filled rants about the rights of homosexuals, and also about the state of America today. The "church" owns the website "godhatesfags.com" and uses this slogan as their tagline; quoted Romans 9:13 as the source of this knowledge: "As it is written, Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated."

Seems like a radical step up to "God hates fags."

Like somebody on the programme pointed out; why are they so obsessed with sex? The head of the church has decided that despite famine, wars and injustice throughout the world, they, who claim to be the only 71 going to heaven, as they are not "fag-enablers", will focus on a trivial part of the Bible.

The members claim we should "crack the Bible to see what it says", however they take the passages which suit them, and interpret them in the wildest way possible. Times change. The Bible is also full of passages that even some of the strictest Christians cannot abide by; and here are some examples:

"For every one that curseth his mother or father, he must surely be put to death" (Leviticus 20.9)

"Six days shall work be done, but on the seventh day there shall be to you an holy day, a sabbatch of rest to the Lord. Whosoever doeth work therein shall be put to death." (Exodus 35.2)

There's more; Exodus goes through what we can and can't eat to be clean, and Leviticus states that any man who is "broken footed", or with "defect of sight", or a "dwarf" can not receive the bread of God. You're also forbidden to wear any garment made of two types of cloth.

Why is it that we take some parts of the Bible to be relevant to our lives, but others not? Is it simply that we are finding supreme support for our own prejudices?

I don't know. All I can say is that unpleasant people who take the Lord's name in vain, upset my liberal sensitivities.

Ch-ch-changes

I don't like to get too personal on here normally, but since it's the "Adventures of Cal", I thought I'd better become more adventurous.

Yesterday was my last school lesson ever, my exams start in two weeks, and depending on how I fare in them, it will determine whether university is my next step. If this is the case, I'm hoping to go to Lancaster; for all you non-brits (well, probably just the one) here's a map.

Also this summer, my dad's accepted a job on the remote Scottish island of Iona. You may not have heard of it, but the 5 -square mile isle is world famous as a religious spot, with half a million tourists each year. I'll be spending quite a bit of time up there this summer, helping with the move in. Despite Britain being such a small nation, when I begin my solitary journey home, it will take me on six different modes of transport: a car, two ferries, a bus, a train, a plane and a taxi.

For anybody scratching their head about Iona, here's another map. I'm feeling charitable today.

Oh, and for the rest of the time, I'll be spending my days in the south of England. I'm not going to point that one out, but it's just wear the cloud is, just south of London.

Fine. I'll put up a map.

What with all this moving around, I'm going to be able to write about some interesting places (stop yawning) and I'll put up some videos hopefully, of the emerald isle. Oh no, that's Ireland...well Iona's pretty nice too.

Have a picture, and don't say I never do anything for you..

CSI New York

I'm not sure how well this comes out on here, but I took this photo with my back to the WTC site. The blurring of the people walking, and the yellow cabs makes the couple in the centre even more striking. I just thought that at this place of sadness, there was still love.

And if it wasn't for the freakin' post in the way, it would be one of the best photo's I've taken.
Humph.

The Return of the Tribe

When I saw the outline for this Channel Five programme, I was a bit dubious. Donal MacIntyre, instead of visiting far-flung tribes, brings 6 members of the Insect tribe from Papua New Guinea (PNG) to visit London.

To begin with, I felt guilty for smiling at the antics of the 6 tribespeople; but then I realised that they know how amusing they are. Having looked after Donal for a period last year, they know exactly how ridiculous outsiders look on their home turf. Not only that, but the people of Swagap seem to have brilliant senses of humour.

The part I found most awe-inspiring was when the Swagap Six (an easy abbreviation, not to be confused with the Birmingham Six) visited London for the first time. Their reaction was childlike; not meant in a patronising way, but in the way that London looked so incredible to me when I was a child. They were blank slates, experiencing the objective beauty of St Pauls Cathedral.

Every statement they uttered had its own profound touch; describing the statues as more real than they.

While the programme (the first of a number, I believe) was inspiration for me, filling me with a new found appreciation for the landscape I take for granted, I couldn't help but feel sadness for the Wagap Six. To show a man who must hunt pigs for days to feed his family, a supermarket full of food, seems hardly fair.

But this was juxtaposed with the most fantastical bit: one of the tribesmen in St Jame's Park, attempting to catch a squirrel, in order to: "put it on my head. So I can dance with it". The cheeky grin that accompanied the statement just made my evening.