The friendly blackbird

We have in the garden a blackbird which is so tame, courageous or plain stupid that it hops around the garden if your standing there, right up to your shoe showing no fear at all. Its amazing and quite heart warming to see what is quite a fragile creature so sure of its self, even seemingly interested in this bloke standing there.
We have a side to our nature that softens to animals, dogs and cats are a prime example of how we characterise them with a human conscience, we love them therefore they must love us. We identify with them, we talk to them, we feel their pain and yet this transference of our own personality which we often attempt to do on other humans is clearly illusory. The assumptions we continually make as to our connectivity with the world is severely limited, if for no other reason than our grasp of the world around us, including our pets and other humans, is dependant on us and the way we interpret what we see. We judge everything through the filter of our experience so the question of what is real and what is false is academic since one persons take on the subject will differ greatly from another.
Society can only work if there are laws which govern the generality of conduct and these laws will never please everyone, nor be in keeping with the ongoing changes in society as it copes with a changing world.
Nothing is static and as one gets older one is faced with the fact that the norms we lived our lives upon are far less relevant to the present, which, unless we learn new tricks we will find ourselves in danger of becoming irrelevant.   

100 years on the hubris of a few

Its 100 years since Europe erupted into the First World War, when the nations of Europe fell on one another  destroying the social fabric of the contesting nations and heralding the nationalism that that swallowed Germany in Social Nationalism which became the Nazi Party and gave rise to Adolf Hitler.
Pre World War 1 the structure of the most powerful countries was, at their pinnacle, an elite of interconnected rulers who, through birth were conferred patronage and power.There were the traditional enemies and pacts signed between nations, if one nation invaded another then it would bring into the war the other member of the pact. Germany a powerful country born of the amalgamation of successful but independent states, The Austro-Hugerian Empire sitting in the heart of Europe. France with its Napoleonic past felt its importance under valued. Russia an enormous enigma ruled by an aristocracy that was out of touch with any sort of democratic ideals but able to enlist the what seemed an unending supply of men to put into uniform. And on the sidelines Britain, then the manufacturing centre of world trade, immune to some extent from the day to day issues of Europe feeling secure behind a very large and powerful fleet but significantly also tied to a treaty with Belgium.
Europe then was a continent of powerful and sometimes conflicting interests which was always manoeuvring on the diplomatic front and the Balkans, off stage right, became the catalyst for the war drums to start their roll.  


Crown Prince Franz Ferdinand, heir to the Austro- Hungarian throne, was assassinated in Sarajevo on the 28th of June 1914 by a young Serbian student which became the precursor for a war to be sought by the Austro-Hungarians against Serbia. This potential conflict drew in, one after another, of the European Nations and, as Germany invaded the Low Countries on its way to invading France, it brought in Britain. 
The result was 4 years of death and destruction, the hell of trench warfare static for months on end, the machine gun and the tank plus the use of mustard gas brought a horrific toll on young men who had volunteered to the 'Nations Call' with little understanding of what they were letting themselves in for or the low probability of ever getting home again.
Millions of lives lost on the Western Front millions more on the Eastern Front and all because the aristocratic leaders could not foresee the impact of the war machine. It is always the case that around tables, in smoke filled rooms the fate of nation can be gambled away on the hubris of a few                       

Ones own set of values

There are few things better than a good old chin-wag (conversation, to those of a younger dispensation) and I have just emerged from one now having spent the last hour chatting to a couple young charity workers collecting for disabled children. Some how the willingness to be open and communicative is sparked by a unseen connection, an assumption that these two people are good people, interesting people who have a story to tell but a story as much about themselves as about the charity they represent. We all should feel the need to find common ground, even if this common ground is based  on quite differing views.
The Seventh Day Adventist is a case in point. Along with people like Mormons they represent a faith based story which they feel is their duty to tell, a story when told to an Atheist like myself means little and could be construed by me as so far fetched that they are indulging in a fairy story. But its not the fairy story that is important its human story behind willingness to spend their day facing rejection and sometimes down right hostility but always with what I presume is understanding. Where do those inner reserves of warmth and humanity come from particularly in a world empty of much care and consideration for others. They act as a contrast to the banal and the crude events we see around us every day. They give one hope that the human capacity for things outside our everyday experience, things which don't immediately impinge on our lifestyle or the god of consumerism, are worthy of our time and that giving a little time, 'we' become the beneficiaries.
The two young people today were doing a job but it seemed to be a job they believed in and so the conversation drifted about between the charities aims and there own aims and background which had drawn them to be sitting on a chair in my house.
From the Ukraine to the Scottish Islands their stories were encouragingly wholesome. One from a society still engaged in venerating the family and generational values, that recognises the importance of experience with its tale to tell. The other brought up, well away from the hurly burly of city life, having to exist in an environment of sparse interconnectivity between people, and yet a people with their feet firmly on the ground, contesting life's daily problems with a good dose of practical common sense in which one had to grow up and evaluate ones own own set of values.

http://twocents2012.blogspot.com.au          

Shia / Sunni

Who are the Shia, who are the Sunni and why do they hate each other so much that they butcher each other seemingly in the name of the Quran.
Mohamed was a prophet for Islam, much in the way Abraham was to the Jews and Christ was to the Christians.
The problems arose when it came to the succession of Mohamed in 632 AD and the split between Shia, who chose a member of Mohameds blood line, his cousin Ali and the Sunni who chose an elected person according to tribal custom. The term Sunni derives from Ahl-a-Sunnah, meaning people of tradition which denotes the traditional approach to appointing a successor to Mohammed whilst Shia is derived from Shiat Ali, meaning the party of Ali. 
The Sunni Muslims appointed a 'Caliph' as leader who importantly was considered 'just a man' there to maintain law and order, whilst the Shia appointed an 'Imam' who was considered infallible.
In an attempt to unite the two factions Ali was also proclaimed the 4th Caliph bringing both schools of belief together.  On Ali's death, Ali's son, Hussein was not appointed Caliph under the Sunnis, despite being the rightful heir under the Shia and Hussein's death at the hands of the Sunni Umayyad family, in the battle of Karbala, made him a martyr for the Shia cause.
The rest as they say is history but what a bloody history it continues to be. It almost beggars belief that these events 1500 years ago still create the fervour, the passion for so much enmity, such feelings of vengeance.
Its perhaps one of the inherent problems of 'faith', Problems become nearly unresolvable because of the intensity of belief which in its self excludes compromise, there is no right and wrong, only them and us !!!  

http://twocents2012.blogspot.com.au/

Trial by jury

It has been a corner stone of the justice system that a trial in which a mix of ones fellow citizens decide, after listening to all the argument and seeing all the evidence, whether a person is guilty or innocent, the jury system is deemed the most trustworthy method .
When the jury begins their stint of sitting through a trial, its the end of a process that begins with the police gathering evidence.  Having decided there is a case to answer they submit their findings to the Public Prosecutor who having gone over the evidence in detail calls for a trial date to be set.
Its hard to imagine that professionals, such as the police and the legal experts in the Prosecutors Office can get it wrong. The case is built on evidence, not here-say and one must presume that there is evidence of wrong doing, otherwise no one in their right minds would risk the criticism if they were to get it wrong. Procedure is important,  known criminals have got off on a technicality, perhaps in the charge office in the police station when something that should have been made clear wasn't and the case is thrown out when it comes to court.
The Law is an ass, at least to the ordinary person in the street it is, when clever barristers pick apart the meaning behind the meaning, challenging witnesses to remember what had happened possibly months before and then alight on some tiny discrepancy which they purport to cast doubt on everything the witness has said or observed.
Its a game of semantics in which the skill of casting doubt is the aim, irrespective of the character or the previous convictions of the accused. A good defence barrister is worth his weight in gold and his services are not cheep. No wonder the justice is often tempered when the rich and the powerful have at their resource the best legal team in the land the defence barrister plays the jury, often extracting a 'not guilty' decision when common sense confirms that there is never smoke without fire.
Rebekah Brooks the editor of the News of the World, and her husband Charley Brooks,  have just received not guilty verdicts on all 6 charges brought against them whilst Andy Coulson her deputy has been found guilty. She the darling of Rupert Murdock and he an old school chum of David Cameron and close neighbours of the Prime Minister could call on the best when it came to representation. Andy Coulson was in a different league. Editor and Deputy Editor, cheek by jowl in the business of running the same paper, lovers to boot and yet he knew about the phone hacking (the charge for which they were accused) and she didn't, or so the jury have concluded. As with virtually all things in life money talks loudest !!!                    

http://twocents2012.blogspot.com.au/          

More susceptible these days

As I walk along the river bank the air is full of pollen, gad fly's flit across the surface of the water and the duck family paddles up stream.The rivers edge is covered in rich greenery, little nooks and crannies exist for those who live alongside the river bank providing some security from predators. One is always reminded of Wind in the Willows a beautiful humanisation of some of the river folk and how security was as crucial as the worry about the antics of Toad
The worry I have is the pollen, a hidden scourge if you suffer from hay fever as I do. 
I never had a problem when I was overseas perhaps a reflection on how rich the environment is over here in so far as the natural habitat is concerned with so many wild flowers in the hedge row. The antigens that fill the air are annoying causing a host of irritating side effects from excessive mucus to chronic air restriction at night with laboured breathing. It seems as if people are becoming more sensitive to the quality (or lack of) of the air and one wonders why since we have taken huge strides in cleaning the atmosphere generally.
Growing up we were often confronted with pea soup fogs so thick you couldn't see a hand in front of your face, smoking in pubs and on buses, coal fires in the home everywhere antigens galore and yet hay fever was a rarity. Now a days the chemists are full of anti-allergy concoctions for people to swallow and spray each morning along with brushing their teeth to keep the lurgy at bay. Has something happened to weaken our immune system,  perhaps vehicle pollution, mobile phone radiation, stress, who knows but we are different and more susceptible these days.

http://twocents2012.blogspot.com.au/

A path to follow

Its odd as you get older how the perspective of hindsight makes sense. Much of our lives plays out according to chance with very little focused planning to it. One might pursue education as a route to somewhere but few of us have an innate desire to be something specific. The environment we grow up in plays its part, the type of work ones father or mother did or their friends did, influenced us but didn't answer the question, if it was asked 

"what are you going to do when you leave school" ?
This I think was more the case for those growing up in what we would term the 'working class household' than those from a middle class background where the path into a profession was much more on every ones mind. Some of course would follow their father into the family business and their fate was sealed at an early age but for the vast majority what you would choose to do in your life was a lottery and of course the word 'choose' has connotations which were not available to the many.
Work was a 'job', a job was a way to earn a wage and a wage was the passport to doing the things we really enjoyed. Enjoyment then fell outside of the job, there was little satisfaction in doing something over which there were few career opportunities, in fact the concept of a career was alien to us and we simply turned up for work each day with an eye on the clock for us to escape to do the things we enjoyed doing.
Its no wonder that amongst the working class their are few reunions to bind us to that formative period of school and whist as I write I wonder about the class of 1954 (many of them pushing up the daisies) there is no alumni to call on and have dinner with.
This clearly formed in my mind my own exclusiveness a loners protective shield which took events as they were played out and made the best of the hand offered. A lack of direction is a prescription to fail or so my wife often told me but in all honesty a plan never formed in my mind and I was happy to be as successful in my limited concept of what being successful meant. Money or prestige were never my goals, respect yes, friendship yes, loyalty yes but these were seen as humanitarian traits which I expected across the board, a simple contribution, one human being to another.