Islam and democracy
The practice—and the theory
Can rule by the people be reconciled with the sovereignty of Allah?
“TURKEY sets a fantastic example for nations around the world to see where it’s possible to have a democracy coexist with a great religion like Islam.” Those were George Bush’s words of welcome, this week, to Turkey’s President Abdullah Gul.
This was in 2008, but is this still valid?
If certain creatures do thy thoughts uphold,
As cant, and thy opinion label racist tripe.
Let not your quailing heart fail, but be bold.
Maintain thy right and cut deep through the hype.
To see the other’s viewpoint is a must,
But ‘others’ oft by bias chosen be,
Respect for all such others is but just.
Let mighty men, or others but decree
‘That is mere bigotry,’ on TV Sky,
The tree of tolerance is rashly felled,
And one poor women merely wonders ‘Why?’
A working woman’s viewpoint, fairly held,
Is slandered, slighted, ‘Not right-thinking she,’
Because the crone doth disagree with ME!
With humblest apologies to the great Bard,
Now have at that.
Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.
Mark Twain
Goodnight everyone, sleep well.
All my life I have been interested in Politics, following events closely and keeping myself au fait with the prevailing trends. However, this General Election Campaign has been thoroughly unbearable. It seems to have been going on for the last 12 months and, quite honestly, I am bored to death with the whole rigmarole. In fact, what with the Expenses Scandal, an unelected Prime Minister, and two not very impressive Pretenders I have, for the first time in my life made a Protest Vote – I have a postal vote, and it’s gone! I was more interested in watching the Snooker final last night, than the communal mudslinging on the News. Somehow, I don’t think I am alone in my ennuie. Bring back Oliver Cromwell, or Winston Churchill, and let’s have some leadership!
A cat died and went to Heaven. God met her at the gates and said, ‘You have been a good cat all these years. Anything you want is yours for the asking.’
The cat thought for a minute and then said, ‘All my life I lived on a farm and slept on hard wooden floors. I would like a real fluffy pillow to sleep on.’
God said, ‘Say no more.’ Instantly the cat had a huge fluffy pillow.
A few days later, six mice were killed in an accident and they all went to Heaven together. God met the mice at the gates with the same offer that He made to the cat
The mice said, ‘Well, we have had to run all of our lives: from cats, dogs, and even people with brooms! If we could just have some little roller skates, we would not have to run again.’
God answered, ‘It is done.’ All the mice had beautiful little roller skates.
About a week later, God decided to check on the cat. He found her sound asleep on her fluffy pillow. God gently awakened the cat and asked, ‘Is everything okay? How have you been doing? Are you happy?’
The cat replied, ‘Oh, it is WONDERFUL. I have never been so happy in my life. The pillow is so fluffy, and those little Meals on Wheels you have been sending over are delicious!’
What’s it like, strong sensations, each minute is counted, how much longer.The banal becomes a focus of attention. Sensory perceptions are stronger. Is that the last birdsong that I will hear. The smell of coffee, the crackle of the croissant, home made jam, Normandy butter. Ah and a new mown lawn.
Solidarity yes now I know how they suffered before me. The aborigines of the stolenwealth. Transhipped for a pat of butter, the punishment well laid on. Sleeping in small pox blankets and unwittingly catching the deadly disease.
Inspiration? Joan of course, courageous, blessed Joan.
I thought some of you who were part of the online novel event at The Site that Must Not Be Named or those of you working in computer technology might find this article interesting. But I warn you: it was written for a scholarly conference so it’s written in academic style. Not charming but interesting, I hope.
I remember my first taste of yoghurt. It was a spoonful of strawberry Ski yoghurt from my mother’s bowl one evening. I had gone to bed at the usual time and later, after a long time trying to sleep I had crept back to the sitting room. We were staying at my maternal grandparents house and we had only recently returned from South Africa. I curled up on the sofa next to Mother. Continue reading “Memory food”
We know what we are, but know not what we may be.
William Shakespeare
Goodnight everyone, sleep well.
Boadicea's Chariot 
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