What is a Peacekeeper?

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

This is hilarious!

Paradise Lost

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...

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...