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40) Published: Breaking News: Stupid Dog led up garden path by the lead in Leeds! June 17, 2007

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09:07, Sunday, 17th June 2007.

40) Stupid Dog led up garden path by the lead in Leeds!

Kevin Turvey’s ear! Yes, folks! Here’s another scoop, or is it spook? No, that would be Peter Venkman’s baby! And he would be a little jumped up, trying to be an investigative journalist, when his precise remit is to eradicate or rather curtail the freedom to commit mayhem, of pesky earth-bound spirits, unable to let go of the past! Anyway, news just in, is that a Dog was led up the garden path in Leeds. At first, the Dog just didn’t have a clue and didn’t know what was going on. He felt very anxious and panicky, straining at it’s lead a bit, not knowing why it was being led, and where to. It started barking a bit at it’s Master, as if to say, “Woof. woof!” Then, when he was taken back into the house, he found he missed the marvelous Fresh Air, very much indeed, and continued to be a little perplexed. The Dog sat by it’s master starring him out, and barked a bit, occasionally, until it finally dawned on him, that there was nothing wrong at all, and went to sleep. In the morning the Dog, proving that Dogs really do have a slight sense of humour, enjoyed watching Bill Bailey’s DVD, Part Troll, and then enjoyed listening to the music of Grant Hindin Miller a singer from New Zealand, that His Master put on after Bill Bailey, and this music, the Dog found quite relaxing. His panic attack the previous day of being taken into the garden, which he after all found quite beautiful and exciting, once he started to enjoy it, had completely lifted. Now, he’s looking forward to being taken by His Master to another exalted home, where he feels he will be quite comfortable and happy, listening to some of His Master’s Friends talking. He really likes Houses, and also enjoys all the Fresh Air, on the journey in between, sticking his canine head into the stiff breeze, as he’s travelling from exalted home to exalted House, He likes Houses, exalted homes, Fresh Air and of course, he looks forward to sometime in the future when he might be allowed to frolic in the limpid stream not too far away, which leads into a cool, refreshing river, where he can cavort with other playful, excitable Dogs. He really likes His Master’s Freinds as well, though finds it difficult to follow them very well, since most of them talk so quickly. He finds it difficult to keep up. But he’s a Good Dog, and just keeps trying! That’s Kevin Turvey signing off, with his usual Kevin’s ear!

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37) Published: Short Story: The Green Vase. June 15, 2007

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The Tragic Arc:- 1) Anticipation, 2) Dream, 3) Frustration, 4) Nightmare, 5) Destruction.

Imagine a person running down the street, holding onto a priceless vase. Who are they? What sort of person are they? Why are they running? Write a plot using the Tragic Arc.

c.19:45, Friday 15th June 2007.

37) The Green Vase

Martin Kirkley grew up fascinated by the world around him. He studied to be an environmental artist and started on a quest to find a particular priceless vase, firstly after dreaming of it when he was 14, dreaming that it was in a security-cordoned  glass case in Paris after seeing Peter O’Toole and Audrey Hepburn in “How to Steal a Million”. In his Dream, the security-cordon miraculously switched itself off and he was alone at night and he stole the vase. As an undergraduate he took at interest is vases, vaguely searching out his own Green and Gold vase of his Dream. Then as if by magic, a vase uncannily like the one in his Dream appeared in an obscure temporary exhibition in the Louvre. He had to see it in the flesh and the last day it was on show was today. He took a Eurostar to Paris, waited in the loo of the Louvre until after closing time, found that no one was around, that the security systems were off, and thought, “This was meant to be!” He lifted the vase, and just as he was leaving the square in front of the Louvre, found himself being followed by gendarmes. Martin had lived for books, Dreams and films and had no friends. He had fixated on this vase ever since the Dream and the fixation had grown. He had not learned to live in the Real world and was now about to pay the price. He ran furiously, desperately and began to fear that Reality was about to destroy his stolen Dream. “This is the End!” he exclaimed as he found himself running across the Seine on one of Hausmann’s bridges. He was approaching the Notre Dame, and as he thought, “The Bells, the Bells!”, they started ringing. They’re tolling for me he thought and jumped the bridge, finding himself in Seine. He’d never learned to swim, and his heavy winter clothes sucked him under, into the icy Water, the river drowning his Life of Dreams, depriving him of Air. The gendarmes used modern technology  to re-claim the priceless vase, safe and sound. He was dead. Why had the French establishment led him on? As the Air in his lungs gave out, he had started to ask, knowing that even if he had lived, he’d never have been able to find out. C’est dommage, n’est-ce pas?

1128) June 13, 2007

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1127) June 12, 2007

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21) Published: Poem: From Ireland with Love. June 11, 2007

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Written Saturday 17th February 2007
.
21) From Ireland with Love
.
At National Tutor’s Conference,
Britannia Hotel,
Coventry
.
If the truth be known
the soul of Britain
this other green and pleasant land
of a thousand years or two
owes a lot
to the emerald heart of Ireland.
Though forgotten
under the imperialistic, triumphalistic dross of empire
the saints and scholars
of a lost age
breathed life
through missionary zeal
into the multi-cultural hotchpotch
that was England.
Celtic pioneers like Columba
infected the Anglo-Saxons, the Vikings, the Welsh, the Picts, the Scots and others
with that virus
that living Word
of the Love of Christ
and, although subsumed
in the theology of Roman Canterbury’s Augustine
the spirit of England was fixed as a Living Nation
by the living heart of Christian Ireland.
Just as Western Civilization
has forgotten it’s debts to the Genius of Islamic scholars
in another lost age
from another forgotten civilization,
in centres of brilliant enlightenment
like Cordova and in Sicily,
so that life of a Living Nation
that mystical Anglicanism
depicted in Powell and Pressburger’s“A Canterbury Tale”
the Dunkirk Spirit
the British Bulldog
the sense of fair play
equality before the law
and it’s rules of “playing cricket”,
has forgotten it’s roots,
it’s debts
to Irish Spirit.
Until in 1982
the House of Justice
writing to the Bahá’ís
gathered at the Conference in Dublin
reminded us
that the vital spiritually dormant heart of Europe
might once again
be resuscitated
by the spirit of Waterford Summer School
of George Townshend
and the legacy of Adib’s books.
And might it not be true
that this vibrant, dynamic Renaissance
enjoyed by the English Bahá’í Community
taking off with a vengeance since 1985
on account of the House of Justice’s Institute Process
can traces it’s origins
in English Bahá’í hearts
being inspired and moved to life
and to fulfill their English ideals
in service to Bahá’u’lláh
and His glorious Cause
after imbibing the spirit of Irish Bahá’ís
already enkindled,
aflame and brilliant
as a second Sun
in a dark Night.

16) List: Glossary June 10, 2007

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07:41, Sunday 10th June 2007.
.
16) Glossary
.
Films:-
1966  You Only Live Twice
(sorry I don’t know how to make my Widget link to the U Tube download)
1966  The Flight of the Phoenix
2006 The Flight of the Phoenix
1968  2001: A Space Odyssey
?         2010: The Year We Make Contact
Songs:-
1977/78   Kate Bush LP/CD “The Kick Inside”, Track 8 “Feel It”.

15) Published: Baha’i Article: Annual Oxford Inter-Faith Walk from Synagogue to Church to Mosque. June 8, 2007

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00:53, Friday, 8th June 2007.

15) Annual Oxford inter-Faith Walk from Synagogue to Church to Mosque.

I left the Job Centre where I work, with about only 15 minutes to power-walk to the synagoue by 18:00, on Wednesday, 6th June 2007, my born-again Christian brother David’s 47th birthday, which was possible, but I did not want to be late. I arrived, mobile in my hand, finishing off business, informing Ash I was there, with a handful of organisers, marshals, police and a few from their other faith communities already there, 18:00 FOR 18:30 apparently being the starting time. I was approached by Revd Charlotte Bannister-Parker, one of the mainstays of the whole enterprise. I was warmly greeted by Dr Ramzy, a leading Muslim who serves on the SACRE with me, and who I have had several beautiful, deep and moving conversations on the nature of faith in God, the last one expressing to him at his Islamic stall in Cornmarket, how I’d become a Baha’i after hearing of the ecstasy of the martyrdom of the Babis in Iran in the 1840s and 1850s, and how for Baha’u’llah to have engendered such a respond of love and rapturous devotion, he must be another Jesus Christ, not a Sri Bhagwan Rajneesh, and how Dr Ramzy had listened intently to my passionate depiction of my “realisation” of this with a look of joy, inspiration and understanding in his dear face; I had tried to explain to him the outlandish possibility that interpreting the prophesies allegorically could make these last 160 years the “End Times”, and that the Twin Manifestations could possibly be the Qa’im and Return of the Imam Husayn, or the Mahdi and the Descent of Ruhu’llah (Jesus Christ) that his Community were awaiting. He had seemed to understand these things far more deeply and with more heart than wisdom would ever permit him to admit to anyone, yet. I chatted to David Paterson, the Christian representative on Bridgemakers, the Quaker initiative to begin to bring friendship and dialogue to the relations between the faith communities. He mentioned among other things that he felt the Baha’is were more prone to bring up religion in their interactions than any other community, since it was that, religion,  and nothing else that brought us, Baha’is, together, rather than accident of birth, culture, tradition, culture etc. I said I would, as the Baha’i representative on Bridgemakers be happy to consult and discuss this with him, to explore its implications. We discussed how the tendency of youth to emphasis the unique “correctness”, that our faith was “the way, the truth and the life…” or that our Manifestation was “the Seal of the Prophets” tended to mellow with age, as we began to recognise the concept of “One Common Faith”, how the unique “correctness” of our own faith’s take on it’s universality, gave way to a perception that all faiths are universal from a different perspective, and how such an inclusive perspective can sometimes be regarded as a betrayal by some of our own community. Ash and Hossein, of the Woodstock Baha’i Coomunity just outside the Oxford Community and from inside the Oxford Community respectively, arrived, and some introductions were made. They began to mingle. After speeches of welcome and of encouragement and inpiration from Jewish, Christian and Muslim leaders, including this incredible piece from a Jewish source (the Union of Liberal and Progressive Synagoge Prayer Book), which was read by Adele:- “And then all that has divided us will merge, And then compassion will be wedded to power, And then softness will come to a world that is harsh and unkind, And then both men and women will be strong, And then no person will be subject to another’s will, And then all will be rich and free and varied, And then the greed of some will give way to the needs of many, And tyhen all will share equally in the earth’s abundance, And then all will care for the sick and the weak and the old, And then all will nourish the young, And then all will cherish life’s creatures, And then all will live in harmonywith each other and Earth, And then everywhere will be called Eden once again.” This brought tears to my eyes, as had Bobby Kennedy, John Lennon, Jesus Christ Superstar and of Nazereth by Robert Powell and the 3 Central Figures and their Administrative Order before, voicing the hope that one day, love and life would replace the desolate desert that had been existence for so long. Ash teamed up with Ali (short for Alison perhaps), a Buddhist in carrying the main banner at the head of the crowd up Walton Crescent and Little Clarendon Street, having been bidden to set off by Dr Ramzy, with yellow uniformed PCs and plainsclothesmen in attendance as protection  from the short-sighted. We passed Laura and Donald in Walton Cresent with Laura’s friend who had to take her daughter for a medical appointment, and so Laura could not join us. When Ash, Hossein and I were first there, by the synagogue, there were a handful. Almost all at once there was a crowd of maybe 200 to 300, oustripping last year, when I did the Walk with Sarah. This year she was in London getting her passport ready for Cyprus; I checked mine, it expires in 2014. The procession, with police guidance, crossed Woodstock Road, and made it’s way to Broad Street, via St Giles, walking past Balliol College. If only they had known! I chatted to the Bishop of Dorchester about the geography of the Oxford diocese, co-terminous with the Thames Valley of our own “A” Cluster, the Police Authority, and the local District of DWP/JCP, my employer! Thames Valley is definitely a cultural unit with an identity of its own, just as defined by the House of Justice! I chatted with a secular Jewish lady who spoke of the appreciation of the material in life as well as the spiritual, but had some interesting things to say about how NLP (neuro-linguistic programming by Paul McKenna) might possibly make a man too driven, focused and directed, and self-concerned to maintain the relationship with his partner and friends. We went down Broad Street, Catte Street, past the Radcliffe Camera to the University Chuirch of St Mary’s for a Taize Chant which we all sung, a beautiful prayer asking God to listen to our prayer, and enjoyed refreshements, juice, biscuits and cake. I then supplemented my single white balloon, with another “to bring balance”. Ash had been talking to his Buddhist friend, Ali, about the equality of the sexes being as necessary as the equal strength of two wings of a bird. We made our way down the High Street, and I re-caught up with the procession again and chatted with a Muslim man I’d met the previous year, who had felt drawn to the spiritual insights of Christianity which he felt helped him understand Islam far more deeply than before. We chatted about the advisability or not of voicing hidden secrets, of gauging whether or not the time for doing so was “nigh” or not. I quoted Baha’u’llah in the 7 Valleys saying, “and were he to find this secret, he would assuredly hide it, and were he to reveal  but its faintest trace, they would nail him to the cross”. We talked of Fools! and clowns, and Sufi “idiots”, and their wisdoms and insights. I talked with an older Christian lady from an Anglican church in Iffley who had listened to the Muslim and me, about the history of the church, and the influence of Arabic scholarship bringing Greek philosophy from the Crusades onwards. We walked up Cowley Road from the Plain roundabout, towards Manzil Way, and the Central Mosque. I chatted to another Jewish lady who was the Bridgemakers representative and we swapped ID details, as we would be liasing next, after the Christian-Baha’i round. At the Mosque, I met up with Hossein and Ash again. Ash had been asked many questions about the Faith by the new Bishop of Oxford, who was to be enthroned on Friday, and for whom this was his first public engagement in his new capacity, having taken over from the now retired Richard Harries.  When all were assembled in front of the Mosque, passages were recited from the Qur’an, a short speech was given by a Muslim leader, who passionately voiced the defiance of all who were assembled there, be they Muslims, Christians, Jews and others that we were intent on peace and common sense rather than the actions of the extremists, a long Muslim prayer was recited loudly with gusto, enthusiasm and joy by a group of small Muslim children, a warm heart-felt speech of appreciation was given by John Tanner of the County Council, who expressed his relief that being in a crowd of Jews, Muslims nad Christians was NOT frightening on account of the fact that all these people who, potentially in bitter conflict, were in fact, demonstrably, fast friends, and whose common humanity and mutual love and affection for each other transcended their superficial theological differences which deeper down were in fact different aspects of one religious truth, these different facts of one diamond being entirely complimentary and in complete harmony with each other. The new Bishop of Oxford, to be, then said that he was very happy that this was his first public engagement in his capacity of the Bishop of Oxford and felt very happy about the fact, and very happy about this being a feature of Oxford City that we could and should be very proud of, which most cities did not as yet enjoy. Mr Tanner had said similar things, I think. I may be putting some words in the mouths of Mr Tanner and the Bishop; these are my inpressions of the gist of what they meant, not word for word. The Bishop then bid us get stuck in to the delicious hospitality of the women of the Muslim Community who treated us in an attitude of joyousness, friendliness, radiance, cheerfulness, trust and openness to eastern food to die for; savoury rice, sweet rice sweetened with sweet spices and sugar, bean sauce, and delicious sweetmeats for a just desert! While eating, I met an American who I’d known some years before whose American forthright bluntness had fallen foul of English politeness, diplomacy and etiquette; I engaged him in friendly sympathy and mentioned that myself, Hossein and Ash were Baha’is. He knew of the faith and expressed an interest, I gave him one of my business cards, and he undertook that when his current overwork from marking history exam papers had abated, he would contact me to get plugged into Unity Gatherings and such like. I felt I wanted to extend friendship towards him, just as such friendship had been extended by the Baha’is towards me, a rude and awkward Englishman with no social graces or skills, over the last 31 years, putting up with my not fitting in, and allowing me to receive this banquet table of love and life, though I cannot respond in an appropriate way, yet. (04:59)

13) Published: Short Story: Failing the Spelling Bee! June 6, 2007

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09:05, Wednesday 6th June 2007.

13) Failing the Spelling Bee!

John Morris, writer, had overslept twice, 2 days running, no longer at the 04:00 to 06:00, he had begun to grow accustomed to, but yesterday at 07:15 and today at 08:26. He uttered a bitter deleted expletive. He was mindful that this was a bad habit and that defiling one’s tongue with abuse was not morally ideal or edifying. 26 for the Cuban Missile Crisis reversed; nuclear annihilation was all he could do with this overcast and mundane morning, he mused. 8 for the 8 fold path from the Buddha, which always reminded him of “right-livelihood” and making shed-loads of money, but legitimately. Okay, he thought, but with no love or spirit, he would be no happier, still desolate as Hiroshima in September 1945. He rang into work to explain the 5.30 spell had apparently disappeared. He began to assume that his financial backers had therefore also disappeared, his Flagship Bog, and source of future income, as irrelevant in its usefulness to him now as Sparrow’s galleon on the horizon; all he had left now was a credit card debt to die for, and the resources to float only a damned rowing boat; what did Sparrow call it, a dingy? He felt throughly dingy, and put on “Communication Breakdown” by Led Zeppelin for the umpteenth time, and prepared for another day of total disillusion in the accursed Real World.

To be continued, maybe.

12) Published: Short Story: Dr. Tony Bloodhound says, “I go, I come back, soon, hopefully!” June 5, 2007

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21:48, Tuesday 5th June 2007.

12) Dr. Tony Bloodhound says, “I go, I come back, soon, hopefully!”

Reuters:- Like the witty, detached and indifferent Captain Jack Sparrow, a few hundred years ago, when the English were generally still evil bastards, the Doctor, a Time Lord from the ex, late planet Gallifrey, which at the time of its death, due to an interstallar worm-hole under construction, had been, after studying the peculiarities of distant Earth, pining away in its longing to holiday in the Norwegian fjords, anyway, this Time Lord, Dr. Tony Bloodhound, the Doctor’s latest regeneration after the Scot, David Tennant, was cantankerous for at least 2 reasons. Firstly, he was still sullen and morose after the death of his gigantic blue and yellow parrot, Augustine, who had succumbed to some mysterious oriental bug, possibly, according to Chinese expert scientists, a cross between Avian Flu, and the deadly SARS virus. Secondly, his new regeneration, reminiscent of the terminally morose eponymous dog, the Bloodhound, was by nature cantankerous, anyway. Thirdly, since Easter, he had been in many significant senses, dead, and the peculiar qualities of his “undead” existence were beginning, increasingly, to get on his nerves. For example, in the Tardis (short for Time and Relative Dimensions in Space), there was no meat left in the freezer, to eat, and this Bloodhound found his predicament in this regard extremely trying. He’d taken in just the last few days, in his inexorable and irresistible passion for meat, especially raw meat, to devouring the ends of his fingers, the nails and also the hardened skin at the sides of the nails, and also the tips of his fingers. His feisty, platonic, time and space travelling companion, Billie Friendly, had said repeatedly, mocking him, “Tony’s eating Tony!” In this existence of being “undead”, materially identical with being physically alive, he was spiritually in a very different place. He had, as a scholarly Gallifreyan, been imbued with all secular, scientific, rational and intellectual knowledge. He had been nevertheless, spiritually in a strange sleep, never having partaken of the deep, mystical, spiritual and religious knowledge of the Mysterons of Mars, that had taken such a huge role in educating him as a child in the inhospitable rusty red deserts of that planet. He had been brought up there, after he had found himself a sole survivor after the crash-landing during the maiden voyage of the World Space Patrol vessel Fireball A1 in 2025. After all these 500 years under the tutelage of the Mysterons, as well as the more prosaic Gallifreyan intellectual education, it was only now, this Easter, that Bloodhound, using his superstitious Martian pattern finding skills, had, like a bloodhound by the side of Holmes and Watson themselves, been able to sniff out certain truths that the Gallifreyans had known all along, many of them anyway, but due to fear of disapproval, and in extreme cases crucifixion, and slavish adherance to Gallifreyan ettiquette, and a refusal to step outside their comfort zone, been too chicken or wise, – he couldn’t determine which, – to acknowledge. The author Robert E Heinlein many years before, had penned the novel, “Stranger in a Strange Land”, inadvertantly outlining in some respects his life very accurately. Gallifreyans were too terrified to “groc” anything as it really was, and totally un-savi when it came to firstly, Mysteron reasoning, which he had long been familiar with, and secondly, with Martian mysticism which was still very new to him. At Easter, his own spiritual eyes and heart had been opened for the first time, and he had felt touched by the love the Mysterons had borne him, both directly and through those they had mysteronised after their spiritual re-birth. However, like Scarlet before him in 2067 and Sparrow even further before him as well, Bloodhound, due to his passion for Augustine, before she had decided to shapeshift permanently into a large parrot, a fateful and tragic choice, had died spiritually. This left him him physically alive, fully spiritually enlightened, but with a total fall from and lack of grace. He had put Augustine before “the mystical Force” of Gallifrey, an unforgivable sin according to the ancient Codex, as interpreted by the infallible oracle of the Moon accompanying the Twin Suns of Gallifrey, the Lord Keith. So like Sparrow in his nether-world of “Davy Jones’ Locker”, and Scarlet in his fall from grace after falling 500 feet from the Car Vue tower in London, after having failed to give spiritual re-birth to the World President, now also found himself in the same inenviable situation. His heart was he felt defiled by material desires and cravings, and he could not with a clear conscience, turn to the Force with sincerity. He had been seduced by the Dark Side of the Moon, after having been warned by the Oracle, that to be a saint was dangerous. Bloodhound felt born again, into a world without love and without spirit, a limbo of emptiness with no oblivion. He kept repeating to himself over and over again, “Oh dear oh dear oh dear!” just like the first hapless, cantankerous Tony, the black and white sit-com star, who ended up taking his own life in Australia, never having learned or been given to opportunity to open his heart to another, eternally single and alone. Billie kept to herself, mindful that she could do nothing to help, and sought solace in communicating virtually using the Tardis’ WiFi hyperspace link, which also utilised workholes to produce a marvellous intercommunication system that could instantaneously connect to anywhere in the whole local group of galaxies, with compatible communication and translation software. She would soon be leaving the doctor for good anyway as his companion, and she knew to hang on to him cloyingly was pointless and damaging. His love for Augustine had damned him to limbo, and it appeared that she could never come back to rescue him. What could restore his spirit, his hope, his faith in the Force, in life, in his mission? Despite not being able to turn to the Force, despite pining for his Norwegian blue and yellow, with her flash of Green, in a corner of one of his two hearts, he prayed for a miracle, prayed for a way, that she could come back to him and help him make salvaging his life an economically viable operation.

To be continued…. maybe.

11) Published: Dialogue: Family Guy on Obfuscation and Disengenuousness. June 4, 2007

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18:42, Sunday 3rd June 2007.

11) Family Guy on Obfuscation and Disengenuousness

Picture the scene:- The Little White Dog is having dinner with Lois, and Peter is reading a good book in the comfy chair.

Little White Dog:                  “You know, Lois, I think obfuscation, disengenuousness and statistics are rife in modern society.”

Lois:                                        “What exactly are you accusing me of, Little White Dog?”

Little White Dog:                   “Oh, nothing, I’m aware of the necessity and effectiveness of Plausible Deniability!”

Lois:                                        “Well, that’s alright, then!”

Little White Dog:                   “What do you think, Peter?”

Peter, looking up from rivetting read: “I’m not at liberty to discuss this”

Little White Dog:                    “But I know that you agree with me; admit it, damn you!”

Peter:                                       “You might think that, Little White Dog, but I couldn’t possibly comment”

Peter sets 2 Beatles tracks playing, Track 10 on “Help!”, “You Like Me Too Much” and Track 5 on “A Hard Day’s Night”, “And I Love Her”, and goes back to his book.