And now back to your regularly scheduled post election coverage

I had written about our voting experience and my passionate beliefs about using your right to vote, but I hadn't followed it up with election results. it was just too painful and disappointing to talk about. I wanted to write about happy things like our Mysterious Benefactor. But it is time to face the music.

 Yeah, we are pretty gobsmacked at the election results--with all the vocal people who were so anti-Tory it was a real slap in the face to see Cameron re-elected.  It feels a bit like when George W Bush got a second term in office. We didn't see that coming either. We were living here when that happened and were so careful to order our overseas ballots so we could vote against him. It didn't help.

But my greatest worry at the moment is that our shining example of the Peter Principle Michael Gove (worst  Education Secretary *EVER*--he was removed and became Chief Whip for a bit) has just been moved to the position of Justice Secretary. Holy crap, the damage he could do. He screwed up our school system so badly. He is charged with scrapping the Human Right's Act and replacing it with British Bill of Rights. God help us all. Plus back in the 1990s when he was a journalist he was very in favour of bringing back hanging--and as (in) justice secretary he might try to do just that.

My other big worry is about the Trident Nuclear Weapons.  2016 is when the renewal of Trident comes up in Parliament.  The Tories are in favour of it. I am not. Weapons of mass destruction that we vow to never use which costs us billions of pounds a year seem a ridiculous expense when Britain is suffering under austerity measures and cuts made by Cameron in his last term. We need money for the NHS. We need money for schools. we need money to help people who are living below the poverty line. Since the Tories have been in power, food bank usage has risen over 200% in this country. Some of this has been from "creative" ways to raise money like the bedroom tax (where your housing benefit can be reduced if you have a spare bedroom. Child off away at college but comes home for breaks? Doesn't matter. Person disabled and all their equipment like wheelchair, breathing machines etc stored in extra bedroom? Doesn't matter). This has caused people already living at the poverty line to move into despair. There has been more than one instance where someone felt so hopeless that they could not pay their bills with their housing benefit cut that they committed suicide.

I have just signed a petition to let the government know we still feel strongly about Trident. The more people who get behind this issue, the more likely it is that decision makers will pay attention. Every name added to the petition takes it one step closer to succeeding.

You can go here if you want to sign it yourself: http://you.38degrees.org.uk/petitions/trident-time-to-move-on

Spread the word on Twitter and Facebook please.

Lastly, I am very concerned with the Conservative Party wanting to legalise fox hunting again. But this is a class issue. According to activist and legendary Queen guitarist Brian May, David Cameron "stands for privilege, for the continuation and acceleration in the difference between the extremely rich and the extremely poor."

May goes on to say, "it's beyond belief anyone can find pleasure in torturing animals to death. This government, they are basically fox hunters. Moreover, they are proud of it. People who are prepared to ride roughshod over animals are prepared to ride roughshod over people. They shouldn't be running the country."

Amen.

But they are. So what can we do?

Protest. Show your displeasure. Sign petitions. Write your MP. Give a damn.

Will you do it with me?

edited to add: you might want to check out this excellent post about the election from Jack Monroe.  www.agirlcalledjack.com/2015/05/10/post-election-post-mortem/












                                                                 

Daddy's Girl

I was always a daddy's girl.

That man shone like the sun for me.

The patience he showed as we tried to play backyard baseball when I clearly have no natural athletic ability at all.

The one time I managed to accidently hit the baseball with the bat and it went over our neighbour's fence a few feet away was cause for celebration. He took me to Baskin Robbins for ice cream and told me that I could say "I hit it over the fence" and that I never had to actually say which fence.

The infinite patience he showed trying to teach me (and later Spiderman) how to drive. It is a wonder we actually got out of there alive. We almost didn't. The first time I ever went driving after I got my learner's permit, I crashed our family car into a fire hydrant.

He kept me company all through the lonely Friday nights of my teenage years when I had no date or place to go. We had pizza and watched crap horror film or old westerns and laughed.

The way he was willing to do any project with me. If I had an idea we would toddle over to Lowes in his pick-up truck and buy lumber and then we would build it in the back garden.

He loved all my school children vicariously and bought them things like little plastic spider rings or their own individual miniature pumpkin at Halloween.

He used to say to me every day --and make me recite it back to him--these three important things:

1. Know that I love you

2. Check your facts

3. Stand up for what you believe in

So I guess I am still a daddy's girl.

I know, without a doubt that i am loved and I still feel that love despite our parting.

I am so careful to think before I speak and be armed with truth and not assumptions.

I am out there fighting the good fight, speaking up for the animals and people who have no voice. I'm getting ready for an anti-nuclear protest in the summer. I am foolish enough to believe that I can make a difference in the world.

Just like my dear old dad.

GLT--it has been 14 years since you died, but you are always in my heart.

I am still your girl.

Kindness Breeds Reform

Or

A better model for the current penal system

 

Our gang of travellers marches onwards, looking for all the ingredients needed for the antidote to the Liquid of Petrifaction . They found the Woozy who is now accompanying them as they were not able to pull his three hairs from his tail. The antidote said you must have three hairs from a Woozy’s tail, but did not tell you how to get the three hairs out of the tail.

the Shaggy Man

 

As they head towards the Emerald City Ojo tells the Shaggy man that he must look for a six-leaved clover and being a green object he will only find it in the Emerald City. The Shaggy Man warns Ojo that it is against the law to pick a six-leaved clover. He urges him to wait and get Ozma’s consent, but Ojo is so anxious to find the cure for Unc Nunkie that he disobeys and picks one and hides it in his basket. He feels the law is stupid and believes Ozma will not know.

 

But Ozma does find out by means of the magic picture and Ojo is arrested the moment they arrive at the gates by the Soldier with the Green Whiskers. He is whisked off to prison, with the Shaggy Man shaking his head in sorrow.

            Instead of entering the Emerald City as a respectable traveller who was entitled to welcome and hospitality, he was being brought in as a criminal, handcuffed and in a robe that told all he met of his deep disgrace.

             

         Ojo was by nature gentle and affectionate and if he had disobeyed the Law of Oz it was to restore his dear Unc Nunkie to life. His fault was more thoughtless than wicked, but that did not alter the fact that he had committed a fault. At first he had felt sorrow and remorse, but the more he thought about the unjust treatment he received--unjust merely because he considered it so--the more he resented his arrest, blaming Ozma for making foolish laws and punishing folks who broke them. Only a six-leaved clover! What harm could there be in picking it? Ojo began to think that Ozma must be a very bad and oppressive ruler for such a lovely fairyland.

 

        The little Munchkin boy was so busy thinking these things--which many guilty prisoners have thought before him--that he scarcely noticed all the splendour of the city streets. 

 He arrives at the prison where the jailer Tollydiggle removes his handcuffs. Ojo was astonished that he was not locked in in any way and when Tollydiggle went to prepare his dinner he made a point to stay put and not to explore. He did not want to betray her trust by looking like he was trying to escape.

           “Why is the prison so fine and why are you so kind to me?” he asked earnestly.

            Tollydiggle seemed surprised by the question, but she presently answered.

              “We consider a  prisoner unfortunate. He is unfortunate in two ways--because he has done something wrong and because he is deprived of his liberty. Therefore we should treat him kindly, because of his misfortune, for otherwise he would become hard and bitter and not be sorry he had done wrong. Ozma thinks that one who has committed a fault did so because he is not strong and brave; therefore she puts him in prison to make him strong and brave. When that is accomplished he is no longer a prisoner, but a good and loyal citizen and everyone is glad that he is now strong enough to risk doing wrong. You see, it si kindness that makes one strong and brave; and so we are kind to our prisoners.”

            Ojo thought this over very carefully. “I had an idea that prisoners were always treated harshly, to punish them.”

         “That would be dreadful!” cried Tollydiggle. “Isn’t one punished enough in knowing that he has done wrong? Don’t you wish, Ojo, with all your heart, that you had not been disobedient and broken the law?”

Ozma of Oz

 

Ojo is tried and goes before Ozma--who is not a cruel and heartless leader--but a kind and gentle Ruler. She explains that “I suppose a good many laws seem foolish to those people who don’t understand them, but no law is ever made without some purpose and that purpose is usually to protect all the people and guard their welfare.”

 

She goes on to explain that a six-leaved clover is an ingredient used in magic charms and transformations. That so many witches and wizards were using their powers for evil and not good that she forbade everyone except Glinda the Good and the Wizard (who will only use their magic to benefit the people and make them happy) from doing magic. The law was there to protect the people from committing evil--if they can’t get the ingredients, they can’t do black magic. Simple as that.

 

Ojo is truly repentant and is set free to continue his quest. Ozma will allow him to gather what he needs so that Dr Pipt can work the charm and then she will take his magic powers away.

 

I am always very moved by the passage about the role of the prison. As someone who is anti-death penalty I think it has something valuable to say. As Sister Helen Prejean says, “Everyone is worth more than the worst thing they ever did.” I definitely think people should be punished for their crimes, but our modern penal system breeds hatred and darkness. If any of these people are expected to get out and become a productive member of society then we need to change how prisons work. I am not saying they should be a joyride or a holiday camp, but humane treatment would be a start. So many prisoners are in solitary confinement which can have seriously damaging long term psychological effects. Prisoners need access to books, educational training (such as getting their GED) because low literacy rates and high  conviction rates go hand in hand. They need someone to help show them the goodness that is in them--perhaps long buried and forgotten. They need to be able to be helped to make restitution to those they have harmed.  

 

I am part of an organisation called LifeLines which writes to prisoners on death row in the United States. My pen friend and I have been writing for five years. This man is truly one of the dearest friends I have ever had--he is a candidate fro redemption and could very well, if released, become a productive member of society. However, I fear he may never have the chance.

 

Our overcrowded prisons in the UK and US tell us something different must be done. Kindness breeds reform.  Baum knew that back in 1913 when he wrote the book. Have we learned nothing since then?

 

 

           

Clash

I love finding a bargain. We have so many charity shops in our town as well as a market, you never know what you might find. On Tuesday and Saturday the market is mostly fruit and vegetables (and is the cheapest place to get your 5-a-day) but Fridays are given over to antiques and flea market junk. It is fun to potter around and see what’s out there. I have a friend who sometimes has a stall on the Friday Market so I went out to see if I could find Peter, but instead I found a bargain.

I had a nosy around the CD stall and I found something I hadn’t thought of in years. The Clash--Combat Rock on CD for £3. I have a long history with the Clash. In 1982 for my thirteenth birthday Brad K bought me the 45 single record of Rock the Casbah.  Does anyone these days even know what I mean when I say vinyl record album and turntable?

 

I adored the song--the catchy chorus, the slightly unintelligible lyrics, the video (remember this was the early days of MTV back when they actually showed music videos) where an Arab and an Hasidic Jew bonded over rock music whist being inexplicably followed by an armadillo. I loved the way it pushed my Mum’s buttons--she believed that any band that said the word Rock in that tone of voice was probably saying F*ck. Good times.

 

Later that year I saved up my pocket money and bought Combat Rock on the latest musical innovation--the cassette tape. Man those were great--they were portable--you could record on them and play them back! You could put your tape player next to the radio and wait until they played the song you had requested (in my case Luka by Suzanne Vega) and then press play and get a badly recorded version of poor sound quality with a DJ talking over the music. But you had a copy and were sticking it to the man--you didn’t have to buy the music! Good times. My boyfriend Tim and I used to record music to share (this is how I was introduced to Pink Floyd) on one side of the cassette and then talk on the other in some rambling monologue about things like undying love and Elf Quest. This was before SKYPE people, you did what you had to.  

 

I recall really being moved by the lyrics of the first song Know Your Rights. I had grown up with social- conscience-political lyrics from the 1960’s but these were the first social-conscience-political lyrics of my generation that I had ever heard. Probably the second one I recall being moved politically by was Beds Are Burning by Midnight Oil. Maybe these song were the beginning of activism for me.

 

Upon re-listening, I was moved all over again by the lyrics and shocked by how contemporary they still are. Particularly with the recent press coverage about the police cover up during the Hillsborough Distaster. Read about it here:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hillsborough_disaster Plus with all the cutback on benefits and welfare the amount of people having to rely on food banks has risen by something like 2000%. There are suddenly a huge number of people being made homeless and going hungry whist our bankers lives in luxury with £1,000,000,000 bonuses-- the rich get richer, the poor get poorer. Our Meeting house has worked with other churches to set up a food bank in our town as previously they would have had to travel to Letchworth because  who can afford bus fare or petrol if you can’t buy food?

 

Here are the lyrics--do you agree that they still feel relevant today?

This is a public service announcement
With guitar
Know your rights all three of them

Number 1
You have the right not to be killed
Murder is a CRIME!
Unless it was done by a
Policeman or aristocrat
Know your rights

And Number 2
You have the right to food money
Providing of course you
Don't mind a little
Investigation, humiliation
And if you cross your fingers
Rehabilitation

Know your rights
These are your rights
Wang

Know these rights

Number 3
You have the right to free
Speech as long as you're not
Dumb enough to actually try it.

Know your rights
These are your rights
All three of 'em
It has been suggested
In some quarters that this is not enough!
Well..............................
Get off the streets
Get off the streets
Run
You don't have a home to go to
Smush

Finally then I will read you your rights

You have the right to remain silent
You are warned that anything you say
Can and will be taken down
And used as evidence against you

Listen to this
Run
So maybe the message of the Clash is a good one.

 

Clash with authority if they lack compassion.

Clash with the system if there is injustice.

Speak up for those who cannot speak.

Speak your truth.

Make some noise.

Chi-Chi-Chi-Chichester

We’ve just come back from an incredibly restful holiday in the lovely historic Roman town of Chichester. My natural Southern inclination is to pronounce it ChiCHESTER, but here it is pronounced CHIchester or even CH-CH-ster. Those wacky English. Go figure.

 But it was a wonderful time away. We normally try to rent a self catering place so we can cook for ourselves, but as this time of year is tourist season, prices for places are through the roof and even if we could have afforded a place, there weren’t any available. So we decided to stay in a swish B&B thanks to a bit of extra money my mum sent us as a gift. Thanks Mum!

 Spiderman did all the planning and I was surprised to be staying in George Bell House right behind Chichester Cathedral. It was even more exciting because of who George Bell was--he was Bishop Bell, friend of Dietrich Bonhoeffer,the German priest who was executed by the Nazi’s for trying assassinate Hitler.  My first year at Louisiana College I ran props for a play about the Life of Bonhoeffer called The Beams Are Creaking.

I don’t have any photos of my own as we left the camera at home. There was a time when this would have turned into a stinking row with cross words and pouting and tears and grudges. I’m thinking of a particular time in 1990 when we argued about who should have remembered to get the camera off the bus and consequently missed seeing the stone circle at Avebury.But these days we are a bit more laid back. I was sad for about two minutes after he pointed out it was on the table right by my handbag and if I had wanted it I could have gotten it then. I remember that and had wanted to ask, but as it was a late addition did not want to do what I had done the night before when suddenly ,at the last minute, after he had packed the suitcase and I decided I wanted my pillow to go with us. But the internet is our friend and has pictures of nearly everything we saw. So there.

 

This is where we stayed. All these pictures are from www.chichestercathedral.co.uk  You can see the steeple of the Cathedral in the background.

This is inside going up the stairs.

 

This is from the top of the stairs.

 This is like our room. It looks to be a bit bigger than ours was, but the décor was the same (minus the flowers).

 

They had a proper chef and were really kind and bought us some rice milk for cereal and tried, but failed to find some gluten free vegan bread (it nearly always has egg in it). We feasted like Royalty every morning on a multi course breakfast.

 Starting with:

Cereal and rice milk with dried cranberries and banana slices (it is often hard to find gluten free vegan cereal other than cornflakes and I’m just not that wild about cornflakes. Non - cornflake cereal either has wheat or powdered milk or honey but I managed to eat Coco Pops which were chocolate flavour rice pops with a bit of barley malt flavouring--which does not make them strictly GF, but I can still eat barley so it worked out)

What if a monkey made your some cereal?

 Next we had a cooked breakfast consisting of mushrooms, cowboy beans and hash browns. We also had some jam on oatcakes mainly so I could wash out and take home the cute little pots. They were just calling out to be made into a pot of Dr Pipt’s Magical Powder of Life (it’s an Oz thing)

from BBC.com

We spent our days pottering around antique shops and charity shops and bookshops (is there anything better to do on a holiday?) and our evenings at evensong at the Cathedral.

from ship-of-fools.com

Our friends from New York were also in Chichester. They brought us some Sunmaid raisins because they remembered my difficulty in finding raisins not glazed in palm oil and the tears of displaced orangutans.  

thanks Karen and Keith!

 

 

 We were all there because their daughter is a chorister and her church choir was on tour and was singing at evensong every night. It was wonderful to hear Gwen sing (we’ve known her since she was a toddler) and I enjoyed the spiritual feeling of church. I forget how much I like to pray on my knees. Our B&B had a small prayer room with a kneeler as well. I would love to have one at home.

from kneeler.com

 

We watched our share of CSI marathons (again what a holiday is all about) whilst nibbling on stuff like hummus and tortilla crisps and salsa, flavoured tofu and falafel for dinner. We also had grits (thanks again to my mum) and goatmeal we could make with boiling water from the kettle so we never went hungry.  

 

One day when I was feeling rather sniffly and sneezy I took some meds that made me drowsy and so between afternoon naps I watched an episode of Little House on the Prairie--the one where Laura runs away to the mountain after the death of her baby brother and is protected by an angel played by Ernest Borgnine. You know the one.

 

We bought a few souvenirs--an Oz book with charming illustrations by Linda Birch and a Doctor Who book.

from ozbookstore.com

 I bought a tube filled with 1000 green buttons of various sizes and shapes to make a collage of the Emerald City. Stay tuned for  details!

from cellexpress.co.uk

 

We found a Montezuma Chocolate Shop--their chocolate is made near Chichester and is really yumilicious. They have a good selection of vegan dark chocolate--we bought a slate of fudge with a marzipan filling as well as a bar of Sea Dog--dark chocolate, lime and sea salt. Mmmmm. All gone now…SOB!

from confectionaffection.net

We also found a cool replica bronze Roman statue of a little mouse nibbling a grain of corn..

from .westair-reproductions.com

 

It seemed perfect as we have both just been reading Margery Sharp’s book The Rescuers. I had only seen the Disney film which is *completely* different.  In the film they are the Rescue Aid Society,,,but in the book they are the Prisoner’s Aid Society. With me being a pen pal with someone on Death Row in Texas and our work to abolish the death penalty, it seemed appropriate. There is a quote from Miss Bianca the mouse which says, “Let nibble who needs.”    We have named the statue Erik after Erik Blegvad the illustrator of some of the Rescuers books whom Spiderman has been researching as of late for a follow up blog post to his revelation about the poem misattributed to William Blake.   

from philipjacksonsculptures.co.uk

Lastly, I will leave you with a blessing from Saint Richard of Chichester. There was this statue outside the Cathedral which was decidedly creepy. It made poor St Richard look a bit like the love child of Richard III and Nosferatu with his hunchback and big sweeping cloak. His head was turned at a strange angle in that traditional vampire pose, but his hand was blessing you. It made us laugh and so we developed a comedy routine that went something like this:

 (evil voice) Mwa ha ha ha!!!

(nice voice) Bless you.  

 

Let nibble who needs. Amen

Tell me about the rabbits, George

As many of you know, I am part of an organisation called Lifelines that writes to prisoners on death row in the United States. My friend--and I do call him a friend--is in Texas. Of all the 50 states Texas executes more prisoners than the whole of the other US states combined. Many times DNA evidence has proved that they have executed the wrong person--sadly too late after the execution. There is an execution today in Texas of a man named Marvin Wilson who has been classified as mentally retarded.

 According to the Guardian:

 Wilson was interviewed for eight hours to test his IQ and his past school records that showed he had a reading and writing level of a seven-year-old. The young Wilson was placed in special education classes, where he was bullied by other kids who called him "stupid", "dummy" and "retarded".  He was deemed unable to manage his own money and was incapable of self-direction. He could not, for instance, cut the grass or use a ladder on his own, or dress himself properly with matching socks and buttoned up shirt. The tests gave Wilson an IQ score of 61 – putting him in the lowest percentile of the population.

In 2002, the US supreme court banned executions for all such prisoners under the Eighth Amendment of the constitution that prohibits excessive punishment. The 2002 ban, in Atkins v Virginia, is categorical: individuals with mental retardation cannot be put to death. The court allowed some discretion on the part of individual states to devise procedures for administering the injunction, but no right to ignore it.

Texas took that discretion to mean – wrongly in the view of many lawyers and mental health experts – that it could set its own definition of retardation.

Instead of a clinical or scientific approach, based on widely recognized tests set out by the American Association on Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities, Texas decided to go its own way.

The determinants were posited around the character Lennie Small in Steinbeck's 1937 novel Of Mice and Men.

"Most Texas citizens," the argument ran, "might agree that Steinbeck's Lennie should, by virtue of his lack of reasoning ability and adaptive skills, be exempt" from execution. By implication anyone less impaired than Steinbeck's fictional migrant ranch worker should have no constitutional protection.

"If Wilson is executed on Tuesday, Texas will be rendering the US supreme court's Eighth Amendment prohibition on the execution of mentally retarded prisoners a prohibition in name only," said Lee Kovarsky, Wilson's lawyer.

Experts in intellectual disability have warned that Texas's unique system for defining "retardation" puts at risk many people with learning difficulties who should be covered by the constitutional ban.

I am afraid that the execution will go ahead. Please pray for Marvin and his Lifelines pen pal Pamela. Let him feel the love of God as he faces his death alone and very probably feels afraid and confused. Let him know he is not alone. Hold him in the Light and know that there is “that of God in everyone” as the Quakers say.

I especially hold Pamela in the Light as well. I know sometime in the future I will be facing what she is facing—the death of a beloved friend. It is difficult to go into a friendship knowing the other person will eventually die, but when you write to someone on death row in Texas that is what happens. But I would not trade my friendship with him for anything.

May Marvin rest in peace and may Texas wake up in peace and change the way it sees prisoners.