Blue Moonlight

Back to Blogging

2011-12-26T16:21:00.000-05:00

Here I am, once again apologizing for a long overdue post.

The apology is more to myself than anyone else, really, seeing as this blog probably has, by an optimistic estimate, a handful of readers.

It's been several years since I started this blog, and, young as I was, I've changed a great deal since then. What I said then will be very different from anything I'll say from here on. If I were to rewrite this blog now, the opinions I'd express would be very different, and in some cases, perhaps antithetical to what I've said before. This is all very fine, and now brings to mind a quotation whose author I have forgotten, about how a thinking man's opinions swing like a pendulum throughout his lifetime, rather than being adopted without considerations from those of his forefathers. So, as I add to this online collection of my own thoughts, bear in mind, dear reader, that these thoughts are subject to change, and that I may once again oppose them. However, I can not say that if I ever do, I will be back where I had started four or five or six years ago. Experience will have ripened my opinions, and they will be richer, more colourful, and more informed.

The Conscious Consumer

2011-07-21T16:05:00.002-04:00

Hello again!

Today I had an idea. I'm going to start a new blog. Although it is not totally out of the scope of this blog, the topic is more specific, and I figure it will get more attention for what it is if the title is more apt.

My parents taught me thrift, and as a young teen, when I began to make my own purchases, I took a couple factors (and maybe a third) into consideration. These were: price, quality, and pleasure. That is, when choosing a product to purchase, I would opt for the cheapest item that worked, but being the sensual being that I am, I would be willing to spend a little extra for, say, a fruity-scented soap bar over a plain one. But within the past couple of years, my measures have changed. And this makes decision-making a little more difficult.

With all the (recent) hype about "going green", stores are now stocking their shelves with more environmentally friendly products alongside the "regular" ones. In addition, alternatives are appearing to products containing potentially harmful chemicals. Given the alarming study results (which I unfortunately can't cite at the moment, but remember reading about at some point) that cancer rates are increasing, human hormones are being affected, and that fertility is on the decline, it is difficult not to feel troubled. We blame chemicals in our food and the products we use daily, but how can we avoid them? I personally was aware of certain of the "bad" ingredients in toiletries and make-up several years ago, but given that practically all the products I found contained them, I didn't make an effort to avoid them. But recently I have decided to put in that extra effort, and in order to help out others with the same ideals in mind, I am going to put the information I gain in the public view.

I now make my purchases with the following in mind:

-Quality--Is the product effective?
-Health hazards/benefits -I try to avoid known toxic chemicals and look for beneficial (usually natural) ones.
-Environmental impact - I try to go with biodegradable, nontoxic products as much as possible.
-Pleasure- yummy to taste, touch and smell!
-Price-I don't want my wallet getting too thin!
-Country/company of origin-purchasing local products reduces CO2 emissions. But I also want to support smaller, grassroots companies (and those dealing in fair trade) and avoid companies known to be either unfair to their workers or not concerned with some of the other factors above (such as environmental impact).

So my new blog will work as follows. Every week will have a theme (the type of product). Every day there will be a featured product. I will probably change this scheme to month/week once I have a decent number of posts, because I can't really test a product every day (unless I get rich or someone decides to sponsor me or send me samples ^_^). Anyway, every post will review and rate a particular product according to the factors above, and I will give information as to where it can be purchased (since I need that information myself). (Note: I'm not trying to promote any company, simply providing information ^_^.)

I will post the link to the new blog once I've created it.

Yay!

All these thoughts!

2010-11-23T14:03:00.002-05:00

Well, I think I'd better share instead of keeping them to myself...

Today, as I was walking to the university campus from the metro station, I was thinking...

It's funny how when people want to recruit others towards their own beliefs, they often set about attacking the beliefs of others. In particular, I was thinking about certain videos I had recently seen on YouTube, published by (if I remember the name correctly) "atheistmediablog" or somesuch. The videos contained some laughable content attacking Islam. The interesting thing is, the beliefs being portrayed are neither scientific nor representative of the teachings of Islam or the beliefs of most reasonable Muslims. I believe they call this type of portrayal the "straw man fallacy": attacking a weak form of an argument (which is often an inaccurate representation) in an attempt to bring down the argument as a whole. I personally did not feel threatened by these videos, nor, do I believe, should any reasonable person. The problem I have is that these videos are a misrepresentation of what the people posting them are attacking (Islam), and this does no good for them. That is, any rational person would be able to distinguish that even if the said videos show that Islam, as a worldview, is wrong (something that they fail to do), they do nothing to promote atheism as a system of belief. I'm just surprised at the number of such things that spring up across the Internet.

I welcome your thoughts.

WOW-I CAN POST AGAIN!

2009-09-21T18:26:00.002-04:00

How did this happen?

This post is an edit of the former "TEST" post. After several attempts at updating my blog only to receive error messages eons ago, and finally giving up, I accidentally logged in to my blogger account again. I figured, why not try posting again? This led to the discovery that at some point whatever was causing the error has been fixed. I can now add more mature thoughts to these unripe ones. But I wonder if I should start a new blog that better represents what I have to say at this point? We shall see what it comes to...

Mona

What is a Peacekeeper?

2007-05-28T09:49:00.000-04:00

When the world is so bent on power and conquest, and politics revolve around destruction and war, how can we, as servants of the universe, do other than to honour those few among us brave enough to stand against these evils? Those who uphold the golden rule, those who stand up for justice and good no matter what the cost, those who put the lives of others before their own— these are the peacekeepers of our world.

To understand what a peacekeeper is requires first that we understand the concept of peace. What then, is peace? Peace is more than the absence of war. It is a state of mind. Peace is harmony and solidarity the world across. True peace means the absence of hunger, poverty, racism, and all forms of social injustice. In a peaceful world, there are no castes or classes: all share equally in the wealth and bounty of the earth.

When a mind has taken in and accepted the true value of peace, and has desired it so strongly as to consider it a personal responsibility, it begins to think differently. That person is no longer what he once was— no longer, and never again, a self-absorbed, worldly, earth-bound being. He has become a complete and virtuous human soul. This new, spiritual entity is living in a higher state than its fellow earthlings. He understands himself to be nothing other than a small part of a greater whole. Therefore, he does his utmost to serve and protect that grander scheme of things. He knows mankind’s and mother nature’s pain to be his own. He knows his own death to be a mere part of the natural course of the wheel of life; not something to be avoided, but a necessary part of his existence. But he knows also that in life he has a purpose, and aims to fulfill that purpose: service to humanity.

What is his service? What noble deed is worthy of this enlightened being? Does he blindly follow orders in unquestioning servility? Does he march unthinking to the drums of war? Is he a fanatic, a fundamentalist, a zealous patriot? No. He is none of these. He knows nothing of boundaries, states, or national pride. He is bound to no man-defined country, nor does he identify himself as belonging to some particular human conceptualization of colour or creed. He is a citizen of the world. He knows there to be only one race: the human race. To this race he belongs, and its service is his calling.

He has a strong conscience with which to determine right and wrong. No politicians’ schemes or propaganda can sway him from his morals. He stands firm on his own grounds and is not subject to the persuasion of any source but the one that speaks but truth and justice.
When a crisis or disaster occurs, he is there, at the forefront, giving all that he can to relieve the distress. There is no cataclysm so dire that he lacks the courage to enter into its clutches. He willingly gives his own life in the hopes of saving others, for self-sacrifice, he understands, is the ultimate deed of kindness.

But never does he thoughtlessly throw himself into danger where there is no need. He does not do what he does for honour or respect. He does not seek praise or glory. He wants only the betterment of the world. Therefore when leaders call for an unjust war, and when, perhaps, they desire him to fight, in some statesman’s fantasy “for his country”, he does not. He objects to the greed and avarice that fuels the plan, and refuses to board the growing bandwagon of worldly lust, however many of his comrades jump on. He stands firm— alone if need be— in the name of true righteousness. Even in the face of ostracism, indictment, imprisonment, extradition, even execution, he stands firm. When the majority crosses to the devil’s side, for fear or ignorance, he wilfully supports the minority. He chooses morality over social approval.

He does all that he possibly can to raise awareness of what society has blinded itself to. He seeks to open the people’s eyes, and will even deny himself to do so. Men such as Mahatma Ghandi, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Nelson Mandela, and a great many others, were as such. Men who spoke truth when those in power spoke lies. Such are true heroes, who are not afraid to die on the way, for they know that their own deaths mean nothing, but the death of their cause will mean disaster.

That is the true meaning of the word “peacekeeper”. For it is no easy task to “keep the peace.” It is a task that demands character, dignity, strength and valour. For peace, however desirable, is not the easy way. Man by his nature wills more to himself than to his neighbour. But there are some among us whose faith in the right way is so strong that they set aside their own desires, and do their utmost to ensure that justice is served. They do not abandon their cause, though it may not always be in their personal interest to stand by it. The end for these souls is bittersweet, for many, so eager to serve the rest of us, end their own lives sooner than most. But they know that as long as they have once been heard, their voices sing on. Their light is never lost, and the candle of hope continues to shine.

Americans are NOT stupid - WITH SUBTITLES

2007-05-01T09:05:00.001-04:00

This is hilarious!

Paradise Lost

2007-03-19T16:13:00.000-04:00

Some time ago I was a child. I don’t quite remember how, or when, or why I changed, but I can say for sure that I am no longer what I once was. At some indefinite point in time, I was forced out of an Eden I did not want to leave, for no sin of my own, but as a result of the irreparable faults of mankind.

Nothing in this world is definite. Nothing is guaranteed. Reality is an illusion, and failure is a great reality.

There was a time when I was happy. Everything was beautiful, joyous—alive. On occasion I again catch a glimpse of what life used to be, as I pass through long-forgotten realms: elementary school corridors, where teachers no longer remember me, or where they recognize my face, but haven’t a clue of what I have become. Or the school yards and the parks, with their grand maples and oaks whose dense foliage creates cool shadow-patterns on the ground on bright sunny days; with their cool, rich earth and lush grass, and dusty baseball fields where we used to kick up the red sand and watch it rise into swirling ghost-figures in the wind; pines whose dropped needles became our fanciful chains, and whose sap was tentatively sampled, but found bitter, and the pigeons that ate out of our hands; camping trips where we delighted in catching frogs, and in the process fell into murky puddles and got our pants spattered with mud; where we huddled gleefully at night, and fell asleep to the songs of crickets and rain that gently pattered against the tents. Oh, how happy we were!

Now I look around and see a completely different world. All is dull, dark, and depraved. An evil gloom broods over the earth, and misfortune and misery cloud our sight. There is no longer a place for the carefree, the bubbly, and the bright. A great and incapacitating burden lies on my chest, placed there without my knowledge or consent—it appeared suddenly and crushed me. Stripped of my dreamland fantasy, denuded of a warm, comforting blanket and deprived of my beloved stuffed bear, I stand solitary in a cruel and cunning world. Destabilized, awkward, and confused, and seeking the comfort of home, I struggle to return to my childlike state. But regression is impossible. I cannot blind myself to the danger and disaster that lurks about me, and whose claws clutch at the air. And so in a weary world I strive to beat a path that will take me someplace without misery, where I can indulge in simple pleasures once again. A great number of others with the same end in mind struggle with the same perseverance—but many fall along the way. And who is to say that I won’t end with them?

Sometimes I see children at play: laughing, singing, or talking of trivial things. Eyes twinkling as they devour dripping popsicles in the summer heat, mouths messy and shirts stained. Splashing each other at the pool, or building sand castles at the beach. As I watch, the tears begin to flow. I wonder if I should, if I could, join in. Then I remember the costly knowledge I have gained, and become shy, guilt-ridden and helpless, and step back into my own gloom, not wanting to disrupt their fragile and fleeting world of joy.

Yes, it's been an eternity...

2007-03-14T09:51:00.000-04:00

Oh goodness! It's about time I revive this poor blog of mine, which has been unattended for quite a while. Switching to the new version of Blogger was partly to blame, as I kept forgetting my password and having to reset it, which is quite frustrating... That has been settled now.

Actually, I had decided to avoid blogging so that I could work on writing a book, but so far I haven't really gotten to it. I know I ought to be writing, but somehow the days just pass by me and nothing ever gets done... I did contact a few newspapers and invite them to check out this blog, however.

Oh, by the way, I recently downloaded a free evaluation version of Ultra Fractal, which is some pretty neat software. I enjoyed it more than I did Jasc's Paint Shop Pro, but perhaps that's only because working with fractals was entirely new to me. Now that I know how they're done, I can't marvel at them as I used to (except of course, there are some pretty amazing-looking works, but once you've used the software, you realize it's not really that big a deal.) What I'd like to know is how to write the code. That's what's impressive.

Here are some pictures of what I managed to do with the software. Up top are a couple of images created by following the directions in the tutorials. Below are two I made by exploring on my own...

Cats

2006-11-29T16:59:00.000-05:00

These paintings are of a cat I used to play with as a child. His name was Pinker, because he was pinker than his companion, Cripa, who had a spot on her nose.

I found the photos this summer and decided to paint them. I really like the brush effect of this "frame" from Paint Shop Pro, by Jasc software. I am thinking of putting these paintings (along with others) for sale on e-bay. How much should I ask ;)?

Most recent painting (acrylic)

2006-11-28T16:35:00.000-05:00

Another Quote

2006-09-08T11:43:00.000-04:00

Why do people think artists are special? It's just another job.
::: Andy Warhol :::

New Quote from artquotes.net

2006-06-16T12:46:00.000-04:00

It is by universal misunderstanding that all agree. For if, by
ill luck, people understood each other, they would never agree.
::: Charles Baudelaire :::

Here's another one...

2006-04-10T11:27:00.000-04:00

One day it will have to be officially admitted that what we have
christened reality is an even greater illusion than the world of
dreams.
::: Salvador Dali :::

from artquotes.net

Recommended site...

2006-04-07T11:31:00.000-04:00

Link

I recently subscribed to receive "art quotes" :) from the website below. Three times a week they send me an inspirational quote, so I decided to share one I liked here. If you would like to subscribe, it is easy and simple. All you need to do is enter your e-mail address, and that's it! And you'll start receiving these wonderful quotes!

ArtQuotes.net Art Directory..
http://www.artquotes.net/directory/

It's very hard as an artist to admit you have a desire to be
famous. To be an artist is not about fame; it's about art,
which is this intangible thing that has got to have lots of integrity,
whereas being famous doesn't really take any integrity. But I
think you have to admit that you want to be famous, otherwise
you can't be an artist. Art and fame together are like a
desire to live forever.
::: Damien Hirst :::

Two new (well...kinda new) stories.

2006-03-14T15:48:00.000-05:00

Reminiscences By Mona
Downtown Saint Mathieu street, corner Maisonneuve, was filthy. Old gum and rubbish, and who-knows-what-else, covered the sidewalk, where pigeons pecked at the remains of yesterday’s pizza crusts from Anatolia. The place used to be called “49 cents PIZZA”, and had many customers, including us. We used to go there often, relishing the flavours, the hot, saucy slices, and the strings of melted cheese. Then the nearby competition went out of business, and PIZZA 49 raised its prices. And so for a while the name was dishonest. Eventually that changed, but Anatolia, the new restaurant, never got as many customers as “49 cents PIZZA” had been used to.
Across from the pizzeria, the dingy area also housed a great fire station. Friendly fire fighters we waved to as kids often sat around smoking cigarettes on a bright red bench. Like the trucks, the bench gave some colour to the grey place, which, in the summertime, often reeked of pigeon droppings.
On the other side of Maisonneuve was a small Arab shop, called “Al-Mizan”, (the balance), that sold fresh vegetables, grain, meat, and sweets. Sometimes I’d go there to pick up some chicken legs or ground beef, or maybe some rice flour, that my mother had ordered. When entering through the door I’d always say “Assalam-Alaikum” to the man by the cash register, who had striking, clear blue eyes and fair hair. While waiting in line I’d try to pick up the news from Al-Jazeera, which was always on the TV in front of the cash. I never really could, as the little Arabic I had studied was the classical, and not the spoken style. Once a huge elderly woman with many rings and an exotic headdress was talking animatedly in Arabic to the blue-eyed cashier. She made grandiose gestures and he nodded and dropped in a syllable every once in a while. I had looked curiously from one to the other. After she had finished and left, he asked me if I had understood anything. I shook my head. He smiled and, with a playful tone, said that he hadn’t either.
Years before, Al-Mizan had been located in another part of the downtown area, and the location it now occupied had been a flower-shop. This was where the other kids and I were picked up by the school bus every day. In the spring, it was lovely and the air was perfume, and there was a little tree with long, thin, pale-green leaves in an earth-filled cement construction attached to the high-rise on the corner. I had climbed it once, and been delighted to find four small white “sinjid” , which I had immediately gobbled up. At home, I had told my mother about the sinjid tree, but she hadn’t believed me. However, on each subsequent occasion I checked it, the tree was fruitless.
On the remaining corner, upper side of the street and to the left from the direction of Saint Catherine, was the Guy-Concordia metro station. As with all metro stations, a strong gust of wind would hit you as you fought your way through the doors. Here, the drunk and homeless would invariably be seen lying ragged on the bench or filthy floor. Here was the hardest of beds, the most dismal and draughty of homes. Cold and colourless it was, two blocks upwards of the colours of Saint-Catherine street, where bustling shoppers quickly stepped by the beggars, the ragged men who were feared, ignored, forgotten. Some, with their girls and dogs beside them, were quite young, others less so. A boy of maybe twenty had a sign that asked a penny for a smile. And an ever-present old man, white-bearded, tawny-skinned, and tattooed, always sat cross-legged by the Faubourg, corner Saint-Mathieu and Saint-Catherine, on the very same block as the nuns’ house. This one was neat, friendly, and appreciative. In fact, most of them were so desperately hungry that their eyes glittered when you gave them the ham-sandwiches you wouldn’t eat yourself. The younger ones grabbed them and ate voraciously; this old man smiled and took them in silence, with a sincere “thank-you”. He had such a wise, almost prophet-like aspect; it made you wonder how he got there. They were all so alive, so puppy-eyed—so human. Passing them felt like a stab to the gut, but there was no avoiding it. Nearly every day, I experienced fresh cuts. There was nothing I could do.

sinjid:(A small fruit found in Iran, usually with a red skin, and, a sweet, powdery, white flesh, with a striped seed similar in shape to that of a date.)

Song for Persepolis
I have never seen my homeland. We left it when I was two years old, and to me, that’s like never having been there. Some dream of a better life here in North America. It is not so. One longs for the soil of the motherland, weeps for loved ones left behind. My mother sings the many anthems of the revolution, which, over time, I have learned to a degree. Sometimes she’ll spring into song, and I will join her. At intervals I cry, that I can’t see my grandfather, my grandmothers, my aunts, my uncles, my cousins… I doubt I’ll ever see the golden shrines of Masshad and Qom; the intricate tile patterns of the mosques; the luxury of the Shah’s palaces, now museums; the shining beauty of all that is Isfahan, which they call “half the world”; or the magnificent modern structure of Azadi Square, that stands tall proud in a field of green. I picture in my head the rice fields along the Caspian Sea, and the rural people who tend them. I picture the fishermen of the Gulf of Oman, their nets bursting with the fruit of the sea. I picture the bedouins of the deserts, Dasht-e-Kavir and Dasht-e-Loot, with their colored caravans, florid faces, and vivid costumes. I picture Tehran and its polluted air, traffic-congested and unbreathable—my uncle Mehdi riding a motorcycle, white pants on in the morning, black by dusk. I ask my mother to repeat the stories of her childhood, which she does again and again, being my only source of contact with a faraway realm. Occasional phone calls and letters from halfway across the globe leave me emotional and hoping, that one day I will return to the home of the Aryans, the ancestral boon of the race whose women are dark-haired and thick-browed, the land of the smiling sun, the cat-shaped country.

Fun Links

2006-03-14T15:32:00.000-05:00

Dear Flower,

as you asked, here are som interesting sites (I tried making links, but unfortunately, they don't seem to work, so I guess you'll just have to copy/paste into the address bar. **If anyone can help me with this problem it would be very much appreciated**.)

This one is really fun and interesting:

http://www.neave.com

and here is a cool site on optical illusions:

http://www.michaelbach.de/ot/index.html

Putty of the Western World

2006-01-12T16:27:00.000-05:00

There is a certain anger in a region of the East,
Where clerics rule the day and guard their honor to the least,

Where insults to their class are censored (not allowed to see the light),
The system’s quite effective, showing off their weighty might.

The younger generation, which emulates the West,
Won’t accept that theocratic rule is probably the best.

Having missed the revolution, being born a few years late,
There are aspects of true freedom they do not appreciate.

That despotic rule of tyrants is expelled they cannot see.
They know they want to imitate what’s on satellite TV.

Believing in a better world in the Western Hemisphere,
And seeking their identities in the “culture” they see there,

They’ve lost the sense of liberty their parents fought to gain.
And search for satisfaction in a worldview that’s insane.

Their clothes are slowly falling off; their dignities are lost.
They seek a brand new in-group, and don’t calculate the cost.

Forgetting their own culture, their ancestral heritage,
They vainly make a struggle, to conform to the new age.

The other side of earth laughs at their foolish, vain attempts.
The Western world looks on in cunning, cruel contempt.

The old man Uncle Sam has got them in his grip.
His master plan is working, they’re surely soon to slip.

In foolish adoration of consumer culture fads,
Despising parent’s intrusiveness and a government gone bad,

Having lost their sense of purpose, and following the stream,
With an imbecilic blindness, in a net of artful schemes,

With an illusory goal in mind, worshipping false idols,
With the intention of acceptance, they’ve lost all their morals.

Sad old bearded faces look on helplessly and dreading.
“What happened to the work we did, to prevent all this from spreading?”

“Who’s at fault?” we wonder, shepherd, sheep or fox?
Who has caused the helpless children to be utterly so lost?

Has the shepherd been neglectful of his multitude of flocks?
Has he made the field too vast and let them roam too far to dock?

No, his eye’s been watchful, and he’s banned the poisoned herb…
Then what has caused this trouble, this rebellion so unheard…

Of course, we know he’s been a tiny tad too strict.
A field to graze, he’s given, but too small and in such constrict!

“And what can be beyond this fence?” they wonder with a sigh,
The grass invariably greener on that far, restricted side.

And as Adam’s apple tempts, the devil’s grass does too.
And the sneaky serpent slyly slips in, with a charm or two.

Lo and behold! The evil has set in.
And as did the children of Israel, they exalt the calf of sin!

And though the warnings came, invariable and strong,
They carried off on their parade, and said: “Come join this throng!”

And in their net of fantasies, the glitter in their eyes,
They made a feast of forbidden fruit, believing in true lies.

The promise of the devil is invariably broke,
And we know the dark bond in which their names were feverishly wrote!

For the gains they’ll gain are nothing, they have paid with their own souls!
And though they are responsible, another can’t repose.

For who was first to deprive them of their childish, wanton hopes?
And who did strive to guide them by binding them with ropes?

And though they blocked their ears to reason, who listened to their needs?
Who let the devil infiltrate, with his selfishness and greed?

Whose vain attempts at censorship caused anger to unfold?
Who tried to block out something that he could not hope to hold?

Who did not see, he should let it be, and let them use their minds?
Who neglected to take an extra step, to show his aim was kind?

Who forgot the reverse psychology of taboo labels on the mind?
Who tried to keep a flock fenced in, giving notions of being behind?

The answer is THE GOVERNMENT, who despite its many tries,
Did not attempt to understand, and did not realize,

The effect of propaganda upon the childish soul,
And in its leaky, little boat, forgot to patch a hole.

Nov. 2005

Crazy about Lord of the Rings

2005-09-23T10:13:00.000-04:00

HEE Hee. I think this is the best scan yet. I hope it looks good!

Journal Entry

2005-09-23T08:44:00.000-04:00

BREAKING NEWS: HYPOCRACY IN THE MIDDLE EAST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I just received this news, and it has absolutely enraged me. Note: The majority of this article, entry, whatever you wish to call it, shall be speculation, as I have very slight documentation on the subject. I encourage and would strongly appreciate anyone stepping forward with whatever they believe to be the firm, solid truth.

24 heures, 20 septembre 2005, p 3: IRAK: Des chars britanniques ont abattu les murs de la prison centrale de Bassorah, dans le sud de l’Irak, pour libérer deux Britanniques, présentés comme des agents secrets écroués pour avoir tiré sur des policiers irakiens. Cette opération a entrainé l’évasion de 150 prisonniers irakiens (AP).

From this very brief (I can’t say article) passage in yesterday’s 24 heures and some few minutes of limited conversation with my mother, I have amassed in my mind a multitude of horrific images that can not wait to be written down. This is why I am not doing my homework, which should be top priority right now, as I have a French vocabulary test tomorrow. On that very pretext of “homework” (well, that and soccer practice…) has it been that for the past few days I have neglected to watch the news (and to perform those yoga stretches which I so solemnly swore to myself to do, when I discovered them on TV at 6:30 A.M. every morning). But, this information is terribly arbitrary and insignificant now, as I am currently performing the action that is necessary if democracy and freedom are to carry on. It is now, by my computer’s clock, 6:43 PM, Eastern Time, and it is the 21st of September, 2005 AD.

I am practically lost for words to describe my emotions right now as I senselessly pound this keyboard as fast as I can (which isn’t really fast at all—oh, how I wish I had done some more of that Mavis Beacon!) with trembling fingers and a swirling head. I have to get this down. It is my duty, and I must!

I neglected to keep the article in which I first saw that ugly thing. At the time, I didn’t consider this neglect; it was a newsworthy item: both shocking and depressing, as is the custom, or perhaps necessity, with such things. I figured it would probably be all over the place and everybody would be talking about the disgrace, and the Bush Empire would come crumbling down. Not so. I have a vague memory of what the year was, but if I strain my mind I can vaguely recall that it was perhaps Spring, an it was perhaps two years ago. That would make it 2003. No, sorry, 2004. No… it must have been earlier than that, before that devastating second election… Ah well, memory has failed, and the documentation, for all I know, is non-existent. All this makes the analogy I was going to (and now will) make all the more shocking: We are living in 1984. (Perhaps literally as well, as the estimate of the birth date of Christ is way off what it should have been.)

This letter must be getting awfully convoluted and confusing. The only excuse I have is that I can not help it in the condition that I am now in. I slightly regret not doing this on paper, in my diary, for instance, where I am far less likely to alter it in any way later on. I plan on making good copies, final drafts, etc., of this, but the original must remain intact… Why? Because the emotion in it is just far too much to be thrown away. This being said, this is far too important to be kept in something so private and personal as a journal or diary, as it must be announced to the world.

What I have to say is, in my opinion, of a significance far more compromising than the prisoner abuse scandal, than the WMD’s, than any of that. What I have to say is horrific, incomprehensible, absolutely beyond humane law, barbaric, atrocious, YOU NAME IT!

What I have to say is this: WHAT IS THIS WORLD COMING TO? Someone, PLEASE, answer me!!! How could anyone be so evil? Every time I hear or read something of this nature, I think nothing can surpass its vileness. Again and again I am mistaken. Again and again, Satan never ceases to astound me. Again and again, it’s the same dirty gunk all over the place. WHAT IS THIS WORLD COMING TO?

But most importantly: what does it all mean? This is something we can never be sure of, but I intend to go as far as I possibly can for the truth. That luscious oasis that awaits me after many long days’ journey through treachery, hypocrisy, outright LIES: truth.

To restate after this longwinded detour: British tanks ran through the central prison of Basra, in the south of Iraq, to liberate two Britons, presented as secret agents arrested for having fired on Iraqi police. This operation has resulted in the escape of 150 Iraqi prisoners. This is the result of my poor translation of the above French text. Mind you, this passage would have hardly succeeded in holding my attention for more than a minute if I had merely stumbled upon it. As it happened, we (that is, my eleven-year-old brother, my mother, and I) were watching the six-o’clock BBC World News on PBS, when something vague about a burning tank came on. My mother lowered the volume on the TV set to tell us what I shall call the “BREAKING NEWS”, because it shatters my heart and all my previous (mis?)conceptions about reality. (Technically, it is not breaking news at all, because in the information age, yesterday’s news is old news).

That news which she gave us was her own little version of what I have above stated in two languages, accompanied by some explanations and perceptions of her own. My perceptions, I will attempt to convey here, if my wandering mind will allow me to do so. (Alas, nearly an hour has gone by, and I have not even begun to lay out the meat of what I have to say. Perhaps a short break shall do the trick?...)

It is now 7:36 PM, Eastern Time, by my computer’s clock, although my radio clock disagrees with a seven minute delay. But time is relative, and therefore irrelevant. I have taken a small pause, but I am as full of emotion as ever. My mind is in a state of tortured throbbing. Why this is so difficult for me, I do not know. Today was a day full of thinking and philosophizing, and perhaps I am tired, but something inside me is urging me to go on. Obviously, though, I am speechless! I am also beginning to feel that all this meandering is going to leave my reader in a tangled, thorny mess, so I sincerely apologize for any inconvenience this may cause him.

But to return to my point, that is to say, that George Orwell’s prediction is, (if it has not arrived,) knocking on our doorstep. WE MUST ASSERT OUR INDIVIDUAL AND COLLECTIVE RIGHTS TO THE FUNDAMENTAL FREEDOMS. A catastrophe is looming overhead, and we are the unsuspecting sheep under the watchful eye of an ever present “Big Brother”. Who is this “Big Brother”? I am sure that this comment is inviting outrage and curses from some of our more conservative friends down south, but I am determined to put it down: GEORGE W. BUSH. Of course, this post has been occupied by several hundred, perhaps several thousand others, but this is the current “Leader of the Free World”, if you will. Simply put: “His job is not to wield power but to draw attention away from it.” Big Brother is held up by several of his close, wealthy friends, his father’s money, et cetera, et cetera. These friends of his make a lot of terrible decisions, and he usually goes along with them, as there is usually something in it for him and some of the companies he owns. In short, they WALK ALL OVER US. We, the people, have to make a stand for ourselves. POWER TO THE PEOPLE!

Now, then, I must go into the reasons why this particular item of news has so acutely upset me, as that is the reason for my wanting to write all this. Whether I will get into it, I do not know, but with God’s superior aid, I will try my best.

Let us get into the heart of the matter. Imagine this: two Iraqi insurgents randomly shooting at passing civilians. You are Iraqi police. You arrest the two men. You take them to prison. You interrogate them; they say they are British. You are informed by British government/military that what they say is true, and ordered to release them. You refuse (who the hell wouldn’t, right? After all, they were disrupting the peace.) In response, British military drive a tank through the prison wall, scattering 150 potential menaces into the population, in order to retrieve two. (As I said, this may be a distortion of the facts, but, while I wait for the facts, this is all I have to work with.)

To describe this all, “Outrageous” is an understatement. First of all, if British and American troops are in Iraq to protect its civilians (which they are not—something I have known since before the war, but also something which, I assume, the vast majority of people fails to grasp, as they have shown little or no response to it) why would they unleash 150 drooling hounds upon that very population? Normally, two Britons in the hands of the Iraqis would mean little or nothing. (let us remember the hostage crisis in Iran several years ago… I don’t recall America exerting any direct physical force upon the Iranian government for that. More recently, we have heard the pleas of several hostages taken by Al Qaieda or the Taliban. None of their countries did anything for them!) So why is this case any different? Well, certainly, if you were governing a country, you wouldn’t be too pleased if a couple of your subordinates, a few rungs down the ladder of our hierarchical society, were caught red handed in the act of shooting innocent civilians, or keepers of the peace, would you? Of course, not! (And with good reason, as this would result in scandal, and here I’ll refer back to those incriminating photos of American soldiers inflicting psychological abuse upon Iraqi prisoners.) Enough said! But I must go on. You’d want the affair covered, wouldn’t you? You’d have to hide any strand of evidence of such a thing, wouldn’t you? You would have to deny that any orders were given for such an execution, convince the British (secret agents?) that they were inherently evil and that they committed a brash act contrary to regulation… anything to keep them from spilling the beans!

That is to say, this act was plotted at a higher level than that of the minds of these two “Iraqi insurgents”. Something very fishy is going on. Strictly hypothetically, this is perhaps something going on at a very vast range and on a very high scale. Imagine hundreds of bearded British and Americans, dressed as Iraqis, for the sole purpose of causing havoc and instability. WAR. To go back to what Orwell predicted, the world needs it. Big Brother needs it, to remain in power. Yes, American troops are in Iraq in order to train the Iraqi police forces, in order to maintain order… This is what they want you to believe, when in reality, it is quite the other way around.

I am quite tired now—my computer tells me it is 8:40 PM, Eastern Time, and I have not yet begun to do my homework. I impatiently await further information, in order to complete my story. (I am afraid of delving too far into the imaginative, wild side of my brain, which is likely to come up with all sorts of horrendous fiction in its efforts to conciliate itself.) In the meantime, I take with a grain of salt all information handed to me. I try to use my God-given sense to try to make sense of what is going on around me. I attempt to pry open every heavily safeguarded, secret book that I stumble upon. I screw up my face and stare hard at every puzzle that arises before me. I strive—for the truth.

I'm Ba-ack...

2005-09-01T14:00:00.000-04:00

It's been a long time since I've posted anything, my apologies. During the summer I didn't have anything to say, and no access to a scanner besides. Hopefully, I will soon. The comments have encouraged me; I guess a just takes some time to get a few. If anyone has any tips as to how to get more visitors, I'm all ears. Blah, Blah, Blah

Here is a link to my art page in elfwood:

Link

2005-06-16T12:06:00.000-04:00

">Link

2005-06-07T12:29:00.000-04:00

An older pic. Still beautiful.

Essay: The benefits of Hijab

2005-06-06T14:05:00.000-04:00

In recent years, women who wear the traditional Islamic veil or headscarf, or who, in a more general sense, observe “hijab”, have been displayed by western media as “oppressed” or “maltreated” by their religion and/or by their men. Those who maintain this misconception, this prejudice, have absolutely no ground to stand on; nevertheless, the belief is widespread throughout the western world, and has caused observant Muslim women much grief and distress. The truth is, the observation of hijab gives women more liberty and freedom of expression, unlike its nonobservance, (that is, dressing in a conspicuous, revealing fashion) which is not only disrespectful to society, but also demeaning to the woman.
The concept of hijab is nothing new; it had been put into practice long before the time of the prophet Muhammad: images of the Virgin Mary repeatedly depict her with a garment over the head. In fact, most pious women mentioned in the scriptures are represented so. And it is not only Muslims who practice it today: Christian nuns, as well as Orthodox Jewish women, all make use of some sort of a head covering.
But look closer, and you will notice that it is not just the head that is covered: such women wear loose clothing covering the majority of the body, excluding the face and hands. This manner of dress is often accompanied by faithful devotion and righteous values. Though the individual costumes may be different, they all stem from the same philosophy: to protect the woman from unwanted physical attention that would distract her from her goals, and so to allow her the highest possible degree of spiritual and mental growth. So if the custom is so widely spread, why is it that only Muslim women are being singled out as “oppressed”? The Qur’an indicates that hijab is to be worn to prevent women from encountering discomfort:
“O prophet, tell your wives and daughters and the believing women to draw their outer garments around them (when they go out or are among men). That is better in order that they may be known (to be Muslims) and not annoyed…” (Qur’an 33:59) [1]
The truly oppressed women are those who have succumbed to western pop culture: those who, in having become obsessed with their physical image, are constantly attempting to impress those around them—and most importantly, men—by whatever means they can, including resorting to drastic measures to change the shape of their bodies. These women have no self-identity: they are all simply clones of a popularized generic form, one that is supposedly the most attractive to men, and that, by this virtue, will bring them the most success.
Interestingly enough, the western world, although economically and technologically advanced, has, in general, a very low degree of success in the fundamental arts of marriage and raising families. Half of all marriages in America end in divorce, and yet no one has attempted to get to the root of the problem. The problem is a lack of faithfulness on the part of both husband and wife. Adultery is normalized by the media, and flamboyant women make it all the more accessible. In other words, reckless dressing generates reckless behavior. A woman who dresses in tight-fitting or transparent garments that reveal the shape of her body is looking for trouble, and usually finds it. But this type of dress is encouraged and commended in western culture; so much so, in fact, that even otherwise conservative women have become engrossed in this image that unavoidably leads to destructive behavior.
The solution to this problem is that both men and women dress moderately and modestly, so as to decrease the possibility of ____ acts.
The Qur’an has recommended this in the following verse:
Say to the believing men that they should lower their gaze and guard their modesty; that will make for greater purity for them; and Allah is well aquainted with all that they do. And say to the believing women that they should lower their gaze and guard their modesty; and that they should not display their beauty and ornaments except what must ordinarily appear thereof; that they should draw their veils over their bosoms and not display their beauty except to their husbands… (Qur’an 24:30-31)[2]

Notice that the verse, as with all Qur’anic verses, addresses both women and men, and does not ____ one over the other. Despite this, Islam has systematically been accused of discriminating against women. Quite ironically, the biblic verses that promote the veiling of women describe these lasts as inferior beings:
But I would have you know, that the head of every man is Christ; and the head of the woman is the man; and the head of Christ is God. Every man praying or prophesying having his head covered, dishonoreth his head. But every woman that prayeth or prophesieth with her head uncovered dishonoreth her head: for that is even all one as if she were shaven. For if the woman be not covered, let her also be shorn or shaven, let her be covered. For a man indeed ought not to cover his head, forasmuch as he is the image and glory of God: but the woman is the glory of the man. For this cause ought the woman to have power on her head because of the angels. (Corintians 11 [3-10])[3]

[1] Quoted in “Hijab”, by Mary C. Ali, www.usc.edu/dept/MSA/humanrelations/womeninislam/whatishijab.html

[2] Ibid.
[3] quoted from “Women, Islam, and Hijab”, by Kim Parker, http://www.english.emory.edu/Bahri/Veil.html

2005-05-30T15:53:00.000-04:00

Hey Eugene! You may have an orange cat, but I have a blue one! (Does that mean our pet's are complementary?) :) !
Don't believe me? Check it out for yourself!
http://petpages.neopets.com/cutecatluvie

2005-05-26T16:12:00.000-04:00

O.K. If you know this guy, it makes the other one below a giveaway.

2005-05-26T15:58:00.000-04:00

Most people can't figure out who this is... 3 guesses (Hint: the answer may be somewhere on my blog...) :)

2005-05-26T15:45:00.000-04:00

Here's the negative. This is a really cool effect that the scanner can do. WoW!

2005-05-26T15:42:00.000-04:00

Aren't they beautiful? I am really proud of this one.

2005-05-25T16:28:00.000-04:00

It's the ultimate weapon--except when you can't open the doors.
(Oh, I don't want to be accused of plagiarism, so I must mention that this is the batmobile. It was on the back cover of a magazine called World of Weels, and so was the amusing caption.)

2005-05-20T15:52:00.000-04:00

Hello. Is there anyone out there in cyberspace?!

a poem

2005-05-19T16:28:00.000-04:00

I was kindof under a trance when I wrote this one, so don't ask! I wouldn't mind comments on it though... I'm trying to figure out what it means myself...

Winter of my Life

As I look yonder, there is shadow in the distance
that so entirely separates me from my childhood.
and all I can see is mist,
and fog,
and tears,
lacy dewdrops that hang on spiders’ silken webs,
and icy frost on the windowpanes,
that makes the snowy world outside
look
almost like a dream.

And as I sit here by the fire,
in my worn old creaky rocking-chair,
with my long gray beard,
and my long gray hair,
and my weary bones,
I feel a shiver go down my spine,
almost as old as the rocking-chair itself,
that noisily complains,
groaning like a sick old man,
as I rock
with my eyelids closed,
painting a picture in my head,
of old forgotten days.

The cat purrs on my lap,
her soft gray fur is silk:
ashen like the fireplace,
like the smoke that billows,
up through the chimney
and gets lost in the night
so lonely and dark.

The angry wind howls
through the cracks in the walls
so much like the cracks in my face
that long dark years have carved
with cold vengeful hands
almost as if to say:

You have taken away the happy child
of Spring and Summer,
who chased dandelion fluff,
and picked daisies
and caught fireflies
and watched cottony, puffy clouds
sail across the sky.
How they have suffered,
Spring and Summer,
from your heartless, senseless
act
of careless cruelty!
O Dark Embittered Soul,
you shall surely taste
the Wrath
of Winter!

Jack Frost has come,
knocking at the door,
sneaking through the cracks
of the walls and of the floor,
and into my heart.
Into this deep and depressed
Winter of my life
that kills all hope
with dreadful, malicious schemes.
Because I have allowed the innocent child
to pass away
in the cold and dark
Reality
that has come to pass.

Mona

He who Grieves

2005-05-13T16:27:00.000-04:00

This is a sonnet I have written and that will be published this summer. The anthology is called Dragonfly Summer and contains selected works submitted by youth from across Canada.

He who Grieves

From this old weary world I look away,
And on to better places far, far off,
And wonder what has caused us so to sway,
Upon our tilting axis and aloft.
The only home we know became corrupt,
When Cain killed brother Abel long ago.
And Cain kills Abel yet again each day;
Forgets the love that once he used to know.
And though we blame it all on the first man,
Or say his woman Eve brought us this fate,
We know ’twas we who turned away and ran;
Oh God, how in the wrong we are of late!
Beshrew the heart that dared to pass the blame;
Spare he who grieves, and we should do the same.

(This drawing is not necessarily related to the poem, but it expresses the theme well, so I decided to put add it to this post instead of creating a new one. Sept 23, 2005)

On the Existence of God.

2005-05-13T16:09:00.000-04:00

December 30, 2006: I just reread this and realized how short and incomplete it is. Please take into consideration that for the speech, I was under a strict time limit. There is a lot more to all of this, and I am willing to discuss it with anyone who wishes to.

This is a speech I recently wrote for my school's annual public speaking competition. I won first prize there and went on to the EMSB school board competition, where I placed second. I'm posting it because I'd like to have some feedback and discuss the issues with intelligent people...

Is there a God? Honorable judges, respected teachers, and fellow students, this question has puzzled humanity for centuries. Now, with the numerous advances science has made, the general public has been led to believe that "creation theory" is no longer valid, and hence, that God does not exist. Is this truly the case? I believe that science has not only not disproved the existence of God, but that there is substantial evidence that actually supports His existence.
The Big Bang theory states that the universe exploded into being from an infinitely small dot of infinitely strong gravitational force. But how can anything be infinitely small? Even the smallest atom is, by definition, infinitely larger than anything infinitely small. Since the atom is obviously not infinitely large, the only way this can be possible is for that dot to be equivalent to zero. Did the entire universe appear out of absolute nothingness? How can you get something out of nothing? It is illogical. The non-theistic version of the Big Bang theory, then, is nothing short of ridiculous. There must have been some infinite source to start it all.
Let’s move on to the Theory of Evolution. In passing, let us remember that Charles Darwin was not an atheist, but a deeply religious man. He never proposed anything against God or religion. The church sprung to conclusions without even considering the validity of his work, or understanding it.
If evolution theory explains the variety of life forms on Earth, can we not say the process of evolution is the means used by God to create that variety?
According to one scientist:
"If one wishes to believe that the universe and everything in it were created by a supreme being, there is nothing in the theory of evolution to contradict that."
Another issue I am compelled to address is that of "Evil and the God of Good". The atheists say, "If a Good God exists, how is it that there is so much evil in the world?" But, "If God were Good, would he force us to always do what he deemed good? " "Free will" is what defines us as human beings. Animals behave in a way natural to their species. We humans can "behave" any way we want. Freedom is a far greater gift than perpetual "good". Do we challenge God for giving us this liberty?
The existence of evil, and of evil acts, is necessary as a direct consequence of the existence of good and of good acts. Thus, evil exists, not because "God does not exist", but because of the necessity of "The absence of good", just as cold and darkness are defined respectively as "the absence of heat" and "the absence of light".
Einstein once said, "The most incomprehensible thing about the universe is that it is comprehensible." In truth, our universe is so fine-tuned that the notion of the nonexistence of intelligent design is, itself, incomprehensible. And for those to whom this is still not apparent, I have one last statement: Things are rarely, if ever, the way they superficially seem to the naked eye.
Thank you.

Hello.

2005-05-13T11:49:00.000-04:00

This is my first message in my first Blog. Just Trying to figure out how this thing works. If I get feedback, it will be most appreciated.