Look, if I had as much money as you two Irish rockers, I probably wouldn’t release a Christmas single to raise some cash for charity right now.
How much money do you two actually need to live on? Most of us families of four get by on about £1500 a month.
Oh insanely rich superstar, I’m absolutely positive the Disasters Emergency Committee would gladly accept a nice discrete £500m donation (still leaves you £400m to tide you over for your retirement).
Oh poor hater of Mondays, surely you can spare a paltry £50m to build a few well equipped hospitals (you’ll still have £100m left over).
And maybe save the rest of us from your sneering appeals. We’re already doing what we can.
2,200 people were killed in attacks on Gaza this summer. 203 mosques and 2 churches were targeted. 73 were destroyed completely. We shrugged our shoulders.
This past week I have been blessed with access to a Surface Pro tablet PC — a brilliant device — and have found great pleasure working with digital oil paint in Microsoft’s free art app, Fresh Paint. Very relaxing and satisfying: no mess, no smell, no dust stuck to the canvas. Oh, and undo for the slip of your brush. Highly recommended.
I don’t like to get emotional about an inanimate object, but sometimes you do just have to express your wonderment at advances in technology. Read on…
Building confidence in our community
For some time I have been contemplating means and methods to build confidence in our community, where issues related to a lack of self-confidence and self-esteem can be seen to be linked to academic under-performance, gang membership, abusive marriages, criminality, extremism and other social ills. Read on…
What we really need is balance. If all the good people withdraw, fearing harm or evil, the voices of negativity and hatred will only be amplified and all the more pervasive. Good people need to make themselves heard, felt and known.
My dear noble friends, my humble servants, my trusty companions: alas, the time has come to part ways.
We have been through thick and thin together, through rainstorm, snow and searing heat, on hillside and lowland, on soft verge and hard road. You have served me well.
Two years ago I might have had cause to fling you in the bin, but I am a fool for comfort and fondness. Though water soaked my socks in a downpour, I could not let you go. Though I felt pavement instead of sole beneath my foot, I shunned all talk of the shoe shop. O, what comfort didst thou provide!
But alas, alas, the time has come to part ways. A new pair awaits me in the hall. But, lo, perhaps we will walk together in the garden yet.
A friend posts conspiratorial claims on the Internet. I am surprised, because he is a student of knowledge who knows all about the importance of verification in our deen. So I ask, “Are any of these claims true?” A friendly exchange follows, for we each have a different take on these matters. Perhaps we just have to agree to disagree.
But, alas, my disputations are not appreciated. Somehow I must be convinced, even if it means sharing an article from a website which is as much devoted to aliens and UFOs as to the political machinations of the State. A faked photograph showing video fakery will surely convince me that the latest conspiracy theory is absolutely watertight and true.
Convincing? No, not really. I’m a dab hand at Photoshop myself and could mockup pretty much the same image in about half an hour by raiding a Google Image Search. True, the photo was just an illustration, chosen to complement an article: but a bad start in the mission to convince.
Now, look, I’m as partial to conspiracy theories as the next man. The Running Man and Enemy of the State are two of my favourite films. I am quite happy to believe that nations whose economies rely on weapons sales and access to oil use underhand techniques to help pave the way for war. Tony Blair, George Bush, WMDs, cough. This doesn’t mean I have to accept every claim I read on Facebook, however, just because it fits with a narrative I wish to believe and hold to.
This is why I will go on challenging spurious, unverified and curious claims whenever and wherever I encounter them. Why? Because we are charged with being a people of truth, and therefore we need to be certain that every piece of information we pass on is true. If there’s doubt, I tell myself, leave it out.
Shouldn’t those six short words be our minimum starting point, every single time?
Is it really deception to keep one’s faith to oneself? I get the impression that some people I know are moderate evangelicals, but they’ve never actually said so. Generally speaking, we’re not a people who goes for show; we like a quiet, private faith. Displays of overt religiosity tend to send people running for cover. So why respond in horror, reeling at the revelations of the rumour mill? If you thought I was a decent human being before this news reached you, can you not find it in your heart to suppose that I may still be one? And if not, does that not suggest there was some wisdom in my keeping my faith to myself? If, every time it becomes known, I must fall out of favour, what choice do I have but to put up the wall of privacy? It is a self-defence mechanism, not a fifth column.