on Life and Livingness - by Tom

A model for industry analysis here

I’ve just sent a message to government leaders urging a strong ban on cluster bombs. I hope you’ll join me. Here’s the link: here…

And here’s more info from Avaaz.org:

Final negotiations are underway right now in Dublin, Ireland on a treaty to ban cluster bombs — but its outcome is in danger.

Cluster munitions don’t just kill during war–they scatter small, unexploded “bomblets” on the ground. When children pick them up, they are often maimed or killed. Most governments agree that they should be banned–but many are now trying to weaken the proposed treaty with loopholes, exemptions, and delays.

Negotiations end this Thursday. If enough of us raise our voices, we can drown out the arms manufacturers and convince our governments to do the right thing. Click below to send a message, and then forward this email to friends and family: ban cluster munitions.

The numbers are mind blowing and I found the art really interesting… here

What the + in an international telephone number stands for - the code to dial out of the country one is in. More good data here: more

Two new solar cell designs are using light-directing nanomaterials to develop thin-film solar cells with record-breaking conversion efficiencies. more

Something is deeply wrong in America and the world. It’s as if the vast majority of people have given up. Given up caring. Given up thinking. Given up common sense. Given up everything but gluttony. more

“Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape.

“He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as: knowing when to come out of the rain; why the early bird gets the worm; life isn’t always fair; and maybe it was my fault. Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don’t spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge). His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place.

“Reports of a six-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student only worsened his condition. Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining unruly children.

“It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer sun lotion or an Elastoplast to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion. Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband and criminals received better treatment than their victims.

“Common Sense took a beating when you couldn’t defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue for assault.

“Common Sense finally gave up the will to live after a woman failed to realise that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little on her lap and was promptly awarded a huge settlement. Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility, and his son, Reason.

“He is survived by four stepbrothers, I Know My Rights, I Want It Now, Someone Else is to Blame and I’m a Victim.

“Not many attended his funeral because so few realised he was gone.”

A new company hopes drivers will kick the oil habit by brewing ethanol at home that won’t spike food prices. more

A 90 second video here…

“We have gone from three meals a day to two. Then it will be one meal. Then we will die. Why is the world taking corn for fuel? It will mean the death of many people.” more

A link to a video presentation on our home planethere

Canada is following the USA, and on April 8th 2008 proposed sweeping
changes to it’s Food and Drugs Act through introduction of a law
known as C-51. If this law is passed it will:

* Replace the word “drug” with “therapeutic product” throughout the
Act. This would enable regulation of sale of all herbs, vitamins and
supplements.

* Change the definition of “sell” to include anyone who gives
therapeutic products to someone else.

* Grant new powers to enforcement agents to protect the public from
dangerous unapproved “therapeutic agents.” These powers would
include:

- raiding homes and businesses without a warrant.
- seize bank accounts.
- levvy fines up to $5 million and jail terms up to 2 years …
potentially for merely selling a herb.

To learn more go to: www.stopc51.com

What would this law do to Freedom?

This sort of law is what we are fighting against.

The brief synopsis at Wikipedia here and the preview of the movie here

Here is a link to a web design expert’s usability site. This week’s article features a couple of points near and dear to my soul. here

They exactly mirror the advice in a book I purchased twenty years ago called “Communicating or Just Making Pretty Shapes” by Colin Wheildon. It is a must read for anyone having anything to do with creating marketing or promotional material.

There’s now an official site with easy rules we’re happy to share with you: here

US attorney Jack Thompson, who has campaigned against video game violence, has sent an open letter to the mother of Strauss Zelnick, chairman of video game publisher Take-Two. more

He comments on the recent study showing that antidepressants do not always work, the suicide rate in Australia and how there is evidence antidepressants can cause suicide in younger patients. here

I wandered thru a country town ‘cos I had time to spare,
And went into an antique shop to see what was in there.

Old Bikes and pumps and kero lamps, but hidden by it all,
A photo of a soldier boy - an Anzac on the Wall.

“The Anzac have a name?” I asked. The old man answered “No,
The ones who could have told me mate, have passed on long ago.

The old man kept on talking and, according to his tale,
The photo was unwanted junk bought from a clearance sale.

“I asked around,” the old man said, “but no one knows his face,
He’s been on that wall twenty years, deserves a better place.

For some one must have loved him so, it seems a shame somehow.”
I nodded in agreement and then said, “I’ll take him now.”

My nameless digger’s photo, well it was a sorry sight
A cracked glass pane and a broken frame - I had to make it right

To prise the photo from its frame I took care just in case,
‘Cause only sticky paper held the cardboard back in place.

I peeled away the faded screed and much to my surprise,
Two letters and a telegram appeared before my eyes.

The first reveals my Anzac’s name, and regiment of course
John Mathew Francis Stuart - of Australia’s own Light Horse.

This letter written from the front, my interest now was keen
This note was dated August seventh 1917.

“Dear Mum, I’m at Khalasa Springs not far from the Red Sea
They say it’s in the Bible - looks like Billabong to me.

“My Kathy wrote I’m in her prayers she’s still my bride to be
I just cant wait to see you both you’re all the world to me.

And Mum you’ll soon meet Bluey, last month they shipped him out
I told him to call on you when he’s up and about.”

“That bluey is a larrikin, and we all thought it funny
He lobbed a Turkish hand grenade into the Co’s dunny.

I told you how he dragged me wounded in from no man’s land
He stopped the bleeding closed the wound with only his bare hand.”

“Then he copped it at the front from some stray shrapnel blast
It was my turn to drag him in and I thought he wouldn’t last

He woke up in hospital, and nearly lost his mind
Cause out there on the battlefield he’d left one leg behind.”

“He’s been in a bad way mum, he knows he’ll ride no more
Like me he loves a horse’s back he was a champ before.

So Please Mum can you take him in, he’s been like my brother
Raised in a Queensland orphanage he’s never known a mother.”

But Struth, I miss Australia mum, and in my mind each day
I am a mountain cattleman on high plains far away

I’m mustering white-faced cattle, with no camel’s hump in sight
And I waltz my Matilda by a campfire every night

I wonder who rides Billy, I heard the pub burnt down
I’ll always love you and please say hooroo to all in town”.

The second letter I could see was in a lady’s hand
An answer to her soldier son there in a foreign land

Her copperplate was perfect, the pages neat and clean
It bore the date November 3rd 1917.

“T’was hard enough to lose your Dad, without you at the war
I’d hoped you would be home by now - each day I miss you more”

“Your Kathy calls around a lot since you have been away
To share with me her hopes and dreams about your wedding day

And Bluey has arrived - and what a godsend he has been
We talked and laughed for days about the things you’ve done and seen”

“He really is a comfort, and works hard around the farm,
I read the same hope in his eyes that you wont come to harm.

Mc Connell’s kids rode Billy, but suddenly that changed
We had a violent lightning storm, and it was really strange.”

“Last Wednesday just on midnight, not a single cloud in sight
It raged for several minutes, it gave us all a fright

It really spooked your Billy - and he screamed and bucked and reared
And then he rushed the sliprail fence, which by a foot he cleared”

“They brought him back next afternoon, but something’s changed I fear
It’s like the day you brought him home, for no one can get near

Remember when you caught him with his black and flowing mane?
Now Horse breakers fear the beast that only you can tame,”

“That’s why we need you home son” - then the flow of ink went dry-
This letter was unfinished, and I couldn’t work out why.

Until I started reading the letter number three
A yellow telegram delivered news of tragedy

Her son killed in action - oh - what pain that must have been
The Same date as her letter - 3rd November 17.

This letter which was never sent, became then one of three
She sealed behind the photo’s face - the face she longed to see.

And John’s home town’s old timers -children when he went to war
Would say no greater cattleman had left the town before.

They knew his widowed mother well - and with respect did tell
How when she lost her only boy she lost her mind as well.

She could not face the awful truth, to strangers she would speak
“My Johnny’s at the war you know, he’s coming home next week.”

They all remembered Bluey he stayed on to the end
A younger man with wooden leg became her closest friend

And he would go and find her when she wandered old and weak
And always softly say “yes dear - John will be home next week.”

Then when she died Bluey moved on, to Queensland some did say
I tried to find out where he went, but don’t know to this day

And Kathy never wed - a lonely spinster some found odd
She wouldn’t set foot in a church - she’d turned her back on God

John’s mother left no will I learned on my detective trail
This explains my photo’s journey, that clearance sale

So I continued digging cause I wanted to know more
I found John’s name with thousands in the records of the war

His last ride proved his courage - a ride you will acclaim
The Light Horse Charge at Beersheba of everlasting fame

That last day in October back in 1917
At 4pm our brave boys fell - that sad fact I did glean

That’s when John’s life was sacrificed, the record’s crystal clear
But 4pm in Beersheba is midnight over here…….

So as John’s gallant sprit rose to cross the great divide
Were lightning bolts back home a signal from the other side?

Is that why Billy bolted and went racing as in pain?
Because he’d never feel his master on his back again?

Was it coincidental? same time - same day - same date?
Some proof of numerology, or just a quirk of fate?

I think it’s more than that, you know, as I’ve heard wiser men,
Acknowledge there are many things that go beyond our ken

Where craggy peaks guard secrets neath dark skies torn asunder
Where hoofbeats are companions to the rolling waves of thunder

Where lightning cracks like 303’s and ricochets again
Where howling moaning gusts of wind sound just like dying men

Some Mountain cattlemen have sworn on lonely alpine track
They’ve glimpsed a huge black stallion - Light Horseman on his back.

Yes Sceptics say, it’s swirling clouds just forming apparitions
Oh no, my friend you cant dismiss all this as superstition

The desert of Beersheba - or windswept Aussie range
John Stuart rides forever there - now I don’t find that strange.

Now some gaze at this photo, and they often question me
And I tell them a small white lie, and say he’s family.

“You must be proud of him.” they say - I tell them, one and all,
That’s why he takes the pride of place - my Anzac on the Wall.

The impact of science fiction writer Arthur C Clarke is still being felt, following the news that two more of his ideas are being researched for real. more

An interesting map of undersea cables here