Friday, January 28, 2011

Enlightened Anarchy

To me political power is not an end but one of the means of enabling people to better their condition in every department of life. Political power means capacity to regulate national life through national representatives. If national life becomes so perfect as to become self regulated, no representation becomes necessary. There is then a state of enlightened anarchy. In such a state every one is his own ruler. He rules himself in such a manner that he is never a hindrance to his neighbour. In the ideal State, therefore, there is no political power because there is no State. But the ideal is never fully realized in life. Hence the classical statement of Thoreau that that government is best which governs the least.

Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi; Young India, July 2, 1931

Thursday, January 27, 2011

The PiFF Annual Report

The Pay It Forward Foundation Uganda is a little more than a year old. Here's what we've been up and what we hope to get up to this year and many others after.

The PiFF Annual Report

Later this year, we will be officially launching the 'Big Brother Big Sister' mentorship project/program/whatever you wish to call it. Those of you interested in taking part will be able to do so then. I will be in touch with the details in due course.

Otherwise, mahalo.

Friday, January 21, 2011

Tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet

Take a moment, everyday, to breathe
Stretch life and limb, and feel
Listen, the bell upon the hill
Chimes and counts the hour of three

Be free.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Swish

Why am I here? Not here on earth but on this blog, like right now. I mean, it's not like I have kb for you or anything, I just felt like letting some words out.

You ever been there feeling restless for no apparent reason? Like there's all this stuff welling up inside that wants to come out and you can't quite figure out how to let it flow? There's a picture in my head, of you and me and I like the hues, strokes and scents. The scenes change, merging one into the other with a subtlety that would put the sun, rising and setting, to shame. And yet you and I remain.

Monday, January 17, 2011

No Fear

 There is a violence in my soul but I know it is borne of fear. I fear not you, nor the sword you raise to cut me down. I fear that you will never know, how much I love you all.

Thursday, January 06, 2011

There's Always Porn

The alarm goes off at 06:00, the Rundfunker radio clock is well into its tenth year of service, trusty old Rundfunker.

Good morning good denizens, if you’re just joining us this is Azazel and Beelzebub on the ‘Fiery Morning Show’ and today’s special guest is JEZEBEL, queen of Babylon. Welcome your highness. Now, there’s something our listeners want to know, how was it with Ahab and what the hell, forgive me, was that vineyard stuff all about?........

It’s loud, loud enough to jolt her from sleep and dream world. It’s old too, imbued with the memories of the years, the moves across the continent, the piece of junk car, lonely motel rooms, endless highway, and Machine Town of course. She got it in Machine Town, a parting gift from Teri before she went to war, to fight with those like her for a future without her.
It’s a good piece of work too, she can picture the machines gliding on the assembly track, graceful mechanical hands dancing, a resistor here, a capacitor there, all under the watchful eye of the assembly plant manager, man and machine, at their best.
Five more minutes and then she’ll go make breakfast. She reaches out a hand to the bedside table; book, keys, phone, aah, she hits the Rundfunker, pulls the comforter over her head and returns to the world of the machines; man and woman and machine. She drifts.

She wakes ten minutes later, she is trapped. The cave is a dead end, she shouldn’t have run down here but she had to keep moving. After the bridge, she had to run and find a safe place to hide. The bridge, Oh God! It couldn’t be true! But she had seen it with her own eyes.
His foot was stuck. The machines were coming. The timer was running down. His foot was stuck. She screamed at Machine to cut him loose, even if it meant losing the foot but the thing was in a trance, walking slowly back onto the bridge, back to the machines. There was fury in its eyes, red burning fury fixed at the oncoming horde. We’re all going to die, she thought. John grabbed her hand and placed the RAD into her palm.
“Get this back to CENTCOM and give it to Mobius. Only Mobius.”
“I’m not leaving you here.”
“You don’t have a choice, they’ll be on us in thirty, Machine is not responding to any command, he seems drawn to the horde. Tell Mobius, he owes me, I told him this damn thing would let us down.”
“No. No no no no no. I’m not leaving you here.”
“Go. Now!”
Machine had at this point reached the base of the bridge tower where she and John huddled. John’s back against the railing, struggling to free his foot, and her struggling to pull him loose with no luck
“I can cut it off”
“There’s no time Misty, this is an order. Go. GO NOW!”
Machine stopped, his tall hulk obscuring the light of the oncoming horde, silhouetting his majestic frame against the forest night, he was not Machine anymore, he was something more, a wonder to behold. He leaned down, picked her up and swung her like a discus, all the while screaming at her to “Flex. FLEX. FLEX!” The bridge exploded, a bright orange light illuminated the night, a ringing sound as she sailed through the air, screaming, then darkness.

Kingston 12

"There is a lot of goodie goodie down in a Kingston 12
Don't be no, don't be no little stock on the shelf
Do unto you breda like you do to yu self
Good healthy body value more than wealth
So big up all the massive in Kingston 12
Dem nuh want no lickie lickie in Kingston 12
Dem nuh want no none progressive in Kingston 12
Dem nuh want no lazy body in Kingston 12
A chapter a day keep the devil away
So read your Bible go down on your knees and pray
Ask GOD Almighty guide you day by day
Go down in di ghetto and hear what the people a say"

Wednesday, January 05, 2011

Ahimsa or The Way of Nonviolence

Plato said long ago, "There always are in the world a few inspired men whose acquaintance is beyond price"

I am reading a book titled "All Men Are Brothers" which is a collection of autobiographical reflections by Mahatma Gandhi. I have started building my code, the principles I hope will take me through my thirties and well into adulthood. 

Ahimsa literally means 'the avoidance of violence - himsa'. It means kindness and non-violence towards all living things including animals; it respects living beings as a unity, the belief that all living things are connected.

I have at my core, a belief that all life is sacred and should be treated as such. When I was younger, and it happened to be one of those occasions that called for the enjoyment of kikoko, I always volunteered to do the honors of execution or slaughter. Of course my primary motive was to secure the liver and heart, which I put on a skewer, roasted for a few minutes and painfully enjoyed as the time lag between getting them off the fire and into my mouth was at best 10 seconds to whoosh some cold air onto the sizzling bits. But oooh, were they yummy! However I recall always being struck by the fact that I was ending a life, that somehow I was playing a very big role and that I needed to accord it as much respect. I would look the chicken in the eye, say a prayer and in very quick sawing motions, sever head from body. The body always writhed, as blood spurted and splattered on the banana leaves. I held tight until the writhing stopped and then got down to the plucking of feathers, dissecting, and cleaning. 

We played games with beetles, my childhood friends and I, we would stick a pin through the thorax or thereabouts, tie a string to it and then let the beetle fly while holding onto the string. After we had been introduced to the marvels of electric lighting, my brothers and I took advantage of the allure of the lights to take pot shots at the geckos that always sauntered close looking for dinner, the lights attracted all sorts of insects in the nighttime. I have never forgotten those moments, writhing bodies, severed tails, malicious laughter and glee, little boys.

Some boys never grow up. The instruments of torture and malice employed in childhood, gradually evolve into the fists of the brute and the animal within is never tamed.

"Man as animal is violent, but as Spirit is nonviolent. The moment he awakes to the Spirit within, he cannot remain violent. Either he progresses towards ahimsa or rushes to his doom."


Tuesday, January 04, 2011

Happy New Year

It's amazing isn't it? One year goes by and another takes its place, seasons come and go and yet it all seems to stay the same. I've made tons of resolutions not least of which is to take back my body from the snatchers, I think I will emulate the Shinigami this year, or the Samurai. I want to devise a code of conduct that will serve me well through my thirties but I subscribe to various beliefs, some of which are in eternal conflict. So, if you find me variously coloured any day this year or for the rest of my life, do not worry for my sanity, I suspect that deep down is still a very rational me that looks upon my deeds and laughs, cries, shakes his head and ambles off to suck his thumb. It is well, it is happy, it is full of promise and there is a rainbow against the sky. The storms have passed, and the wanderer may walk forth.

So I will walk on the earth, for there lies the path to coloured skies. I will sit beside the calm waters and know the depths of the hidden heart. If must needs, I will soar on the winds and be the master of change. But to home, I shall trudge with a free heart and leave the world at the gates of the stead.