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Happy to be a flatty: They endure years of sniggers - from both sexes. But women with small busts have the last laugh when others hit the floppy forties, says SUZANNE TAYLOR
Falling flat: Suzanne Taylor has felt out of style since she became a teenager and her boyish figure failed to turn into slinky curves
Ask a hundred men to describe the main difference between the sexes, and 95 would probably refer to the contents of women's bras.
The other five, no doubt, were checking the football scores on their phones and didn't hear the question.
Heaving bosoms have never gone out of fashion, which means I've been hopelessly out of style since my days as a scrawny teenager when, every morning, I would peer down my pyjama top hoping some miracle had occurred overnight and that my boyish figure had disappeared only to be replaced with a sizzling Jessica Rabbit lookalike.
As a fairly swotty child, I achieved a good mix of As and Bs at O-level, but that was precisely the moment when I realised that in the bra department, I would never be anything other than a straight A student (for gentleman readers, that's the smallest cup size).
It's safe to say that I have spent most of my adulthood dreaming of having the sort of fabulous curves that scream femininity and send men loopy with lust.
Flat is such a feminist issue. Consider for a moment the very word 'flat' and its negative connotations. A few choice phrases spring to mind: the party fell flat, I'm flat broke, I'm feeling a bit flat today. Even 'flat-packed' brings on feelings of inadequacy and doom.
So, imagine for a moment what it's like to be small-busted, to feel a bit flat every day of your life!
The chest is the only area of the body where women desire more fat cells.
And, apparently, so do men, on our behalf. I have yet to see an online dating profile listing 'flat as a pancake' as a physical attribute sought after by potential suitors.
You have to learn to be incredibly thick-skinned and self-deprecating to go through life as a woman with a flat chest. Even though I'm in my 40s, I still have to put up with digs at my lack of boobage, as it is referred to among my circle of friends.
Just this summer, on holiday in Portugal and feeling comparatively tanned and attractive, I was swanning around, complaining vaguely about my itchy mosquito bites.
'You have two more there,' smirked my girlfriend, motioning to my bra-less T-shirt before bursting into uncontrollable laughter, quickly joined by the rest of my so-called friends.
Straight A student: Suzanne is now proud to be looking perky in a bikini in her 40s
I laughed along with them obligingly, but secretly wondered if they'd have been so mean to me if I had been missing a finger, or had been saddled with particularly voluminous thighs.
For as long as I can remember I've wanted a bigger chest measurement. But it became a real preoccupation when, aged 21, I witnessed a real-life boob job.
At the time I was working on a health and beauty programme for a television company in the Midlands. The producer and I were researching a segment about breast augmentation so we went along to watch an actual operation.
Having scrubbed up, and feeling like extras from ER, we stood in the operating theatre as some poor, unconscious woman was wheeled in, mouth gaping, her sad flat chest covered in felt-tip pen scribbles.
Drawn this way: The longed-for Jessica Rabbit hourglass shape never materialised for Suzanne
The surgeon breezed in, whisked out his scalpel and pounced. The next thing I knew, the woman — who was now drooling slightly — had a gaping hole under each breast. I took a deep breath as the world started to go a bit spinny.
Next came a tool which looked like a red hot poker. It was thrust inside each breast to cauterise the open wound. A sizzling sound followed, accompanied by a vague odour of barbecued pork, at which point I had to focus hard on a pigeon on the window ledge outside to stop myself from passing out.
In went the silicone implants, followed by a bit of clever stitching. In less than an hour, the comatose woman was wheeled out to recover. She had no idea yet, but she was the proud new owner of the cutest set of boobs I'd ever seen. They weren't Jordan-esque, just perfect.
Despite the horrors I'd witnessed, I wanted a pair of my own. I started saving, but everywhere I turned, people told me not to go for the operation. 'Just be you,' they would say, or 'You're beautiful, you don't need it.'
Of course I was beautiful, every young woman in her 20s is beautiful. So I shelved plans for a bigger bust, spending the cash on sun-drenched holidays and vino instead.
But not having boobs still made me feel very unsexy. On beaches in the Med, I'd cover up — not because I was shy, but because every other girl seemed to have a bigger chest than me and I felt so inadequate.
Fitted dresses would hang depressingly from my frame as though I were a ten-year-old girl tottering around in heels and trying to dress up like Mummy. I learned from an early age that strapless dresses, bandeau tops and silky lingerie were not for me.
I remember returning from Ibiza, aged 22, and actually being quite pleased with my holiday snaps. My then-boyfriend's best friend looked at a picture of me and said: 'You would look like a model — if you didn't have such small boobs.'
Unsurprisingly, the compliment element of that passed me by. All I heard was 'small boobs', reinforcing the image of myself as a second-rate woman.
Boyfriends have always said they love me as I am. But being female in an image-obsessed world, I've always suspected they were possessive control-freaks who like my figure because no other man will look at me with my ironing board profile.
In 1991, the Wonderbra was relaunched into the Western world, and what a revelation that was. Suddenly, I could coax my minuscule boobs into some semblance of a cleavage. However, I did have to pop into the loos every half hour to hoik my little chest back up into a cleavage. I remember, with shame, how, aged around 23, I left a meeting with some cocky, red-braced stockbrokers, then looked down and saw the padded insert from my Wonderbra poking over my top. How long it had been there, I had no idea.
In my early 20s I worked for a red-top newspaper but whenever I was asked what I did for a living, the person quizzing me always answered their own question with: 'Well, it's not Page Three, is it?' as everyone fell about laughing. Hilarious. But it took until middle-age to realise that my sad little fried eggs do have a flip side and that anyone who has had to whisper 'A cup' in a lingerie department will have the upper hand eventually.
Implanted inspiration: Katie Price-style surgery was not the answer for Suzanne - although she thought long and hard about it
During our 20s and 30s anything above a B cup is a gift, and will be unequivocally loved by the male species. Some men can barely hide their adoration — don't we all know at least one man who struggles to make eye contact with any female when there are breasts to be ogled?
But it is in our 40s that payday comes for the flat-chested girl. This is when all bosoms of consequence go south and suddenly we're the ones who look perky on holiday.
OK, I still can't hold a pencil under my boobs but, frankly, unless I'm going on a topless sketching holiday, I can't see why I'd need to. We ladies in the flat-chested club also escape stretch marks on our breasts as they've never expanded beyond our skin's natural elasticity.
The benefits don't stop there. We can also go for a run without having to strap ourselves into something resembling a straitjacket. And if we do manage to lure an unsuspecting man into bed, we can lie on our backs, confident our boobs haven't slipped over the sides like half-set jellies.
Oh yes, your 40s is the decade to get even with those buxom lasses.
Going topless in the Med, we now look toned and sexy because our boobs are not like pendulous weapons of mass destruction. As a buxom friend of mine recently commented: 'A big bust just becomes a frumpy bosom once you hit 40.'
Most importantly, in the same way tattoos and piercings have become so commonplace they have lost their original edginess, perfect beach-ball breasts no longer impress.
Most people can spot the fakes with a quick scan of the beach. These days nothing's sexier than the real thing, whatever the proportions. Most men would always prefer a wet-haired, fresh-faced, real woman stepping out of the shower over a perma-tanned body caked in make-up and stuffed with artificial ingredients.
I am relieved (and rather proud) I never succumbed to vanity and that I am not now sporting a pair of surgically enhanced beauties.
The jibes, however, will continue until I'm well into my dotage.
Only last week a male colleague said he had a joke to tell me that was so funny I would laugh until my boobs fell off. He then looked at me dead-pan and said: 'But I see you've already heard it.'
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Every woman wishes to find a magical tool that will eliminate the unwanted hair from her life completely and permanently. Well, beauty clinics do not make magic but they do have advanced devices that might turn that wish into reality. We are talking about laser hair removal, of course. However, you should not take laser hair removal lightly because it represents a medical procedure that requires extensive knowledge, training and skills to perform. For this season, you should not enter the first beauty clinic you see, unless you want to face potential risks. Make sure that you verify the credentials of the technician that performs laser hair removal and you examine the cleanliness of the room to ensure your safety. By resorting to laser hair removal Mayfair, you will benefit from professional treatment and expert advice.
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subset: commoncrawl


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Women Who Get Raped Go Straight To Hell
I've been thinking a lot about the issue of Islam and Women's Clothing since my post on the topic last week. The idea that so many women have so little control over their lives is one that I find very difficult and completely helpless to do anything about except try and make some of the issues more widely known. For example, I've written about cases that have come to light via various human rights groups where women have been punished by Sharia courts in Saudi Arabia after they have been raped because they were out without a man when the attack occurred. The rapist, on the other hand, was often not punished.
Then this morning a very disturbing video appeared in my Facebook feed via friend William Hounslow. Another friend posted it soon after:
(Disclaimer: The group who put out this clip, Freedom's Final Stand – Standing Against the March of Liberalism, appears to be one of those that uses the reality of these situations in Islam to create a climate of fear and hatred towards Muslims, so I just want to make it clear that I don't endorse the group in any way. Also, although it's not up to me to speak for others, I feel sure my friends would find the values of this group equally repugnant.)
The clip being shown on Facebook is part of a larger video called Bangladeshi Gang Rape produced by Vice News in November 2014, and it is worth watching the whole report.
The views expressed by imam Mohammed Shahidul Isham in the clip are typical of conservative religion. As well as what he says in the Facebook clip, the extended video shows he also says that women should stay at home. Just leaving the house is enough to tempt men to rape apparently, and if it happens, it's the woman's fault. It's not just the imam that's the problem though. The reporter, Tania Rashid, showed that the attitudes he displays and presumably teaches in his mosque are pervasive throughout society. The police show the same appalling attitudes as the imam, and in many ways that's worse. Women who are attacked have no one to go to and no hope that they can ever feel safe.
The words Imam Mohammed Shahidul Isham is quoting (inaccurately) in his interview with Rashid about women staying indoors are based on these:
via MuslimMatters.org
In Surah Al-Ahzab, Allah addresses the wives of Prophet Muhammad [صَلى اللهُ عَليهِ وَ سَلم] with specific commands to guard their chastity:
"And abide quietly in your homes, and do not flaunt your charms as they used to flaunt them in the old days of pagan ignorance; and be constant in prayer, and render the purifying dues, and pay heed unto Allah and His Messenger: for Allah only wants to remove from you all that might be loathsome, O you members of the [Prophet's] household, and to purify you to utmost purity." [33:33]
The imam it seems has taken a leaf out of St Jerome's book (see here) and is using his authority to spread an interpretation of the rules that is even harder on women and more favourable to men's authority than the Qur'an already is.
As Rashid pointed out, all the men "rationalized why rape happened" and "shifted the blame onto the women themselves." The situation was being "trivialized" while the men "maintained the image of a pure, God-fearing society."
The graph on the right is one you've probably all seen before, but it's a message that many still have not grasped. The idea that somehow a rape victim (male or female) is at fault needs to be stamped out. Blaming the victim creates an excuse for the perpetrator and the ability to fail to take responsibility for one's own actions.
Conservative religion portrays an ideal where men have been granted not only the right, but the strength to take control. However, when it comes to sexual abuse they are apparently so weak that the slightest temptation can cause them to lose control.
In my post about Islam and Women's Clothing I referred to the discussion at Islam.org around the need for rules of modesty for both men and women. What I didn't go into was the extent to which those rules focus on sex. Here are some examples from their website:
Rules for Men
99 – Rule: It is haram [forbidden] to take off one's clothes in the presence of other men or one's Maharim [women with whom it would be considered incestuous to have a sexual relationship] with the intention of sexually arousing others. One's spouse is an exception.
102 – Rule: According to Ihtiyat Mustahab [recommended precaution], men must cover other parts of the body that are normally covered by men, while in the presence of non-Mahram women, especially if the man knows that the non-Mahram women may look at them with the intention of lust.
107 – Rule: Men must cover their private parts from a child who is Mumayyiz [a child old enough to know right from wrong and able to tell the difference between men and women], whether it is a boy or a girl, Mahram or a non-Mahram.
Therefore: Men must cover their private parts in front of their Mumayyiz children in the showers and other places.
According to Ihtiyat Wajib [obligatory precaution], a man must cover his body from girls who have not yet completed 9 years of age, but who understand good and bad, even if there is no intention of sexual pleasure.
Rules for Women
108 – Rule: It is wajib [obligatory] for women to cover their entire body from non-Mahram Men; with the exception of their face and hands, as long as the following conditions are met:
Their face and hands must not have any kind of beautification (zinat) on them.
One will not look at their face or hands with the intention of lust.
113 – Question: Is it allowed to wear a mantou and pants in which the shape of the body is visible, in the presence of non-Mahram men?
Answer: From the point of hijab and covering, it is sufficient, but in the event that showing the shape of the body would lead to lust or corruption, then it must be covered.
121 – Question: What is the ruling for wearing flashy, repelling-coloured clothing, and clothing that draws the attention of others, in places where non-Mahram men are present, such as universities, stores, etc.
Answer: With the assumption that the clothing is arousing, it is haram.
And it looks like foot-fetishism was a thing in Mohammed's time too:
118 – Question: Is it allowed to wear thick socks in which the shape of the foot is visible in front of non-Mahram men, or not?
Answer: In the event that there is no corruption related to it, and the skin of the feet does not show, then it is not a problem.
Answer: If it leads to corruption and sin, then it is not permitted.
Answer: In addition to this, the socks must not be of the type that would be considered as a zinat [beautification].
119 – Rule: Wearing of thin, see-thru socks in which the skin of the feet is visible is not considered as covering, and therefore, women must refrain from wearing these kinds of socks in the presence of non-Mahram men.
120 – Question: There are some women who wear pants, and then pull their socks over top of the pants in such a way that the shape of the bottom of their legs show – what is the ruling for wearing socks in this manner?
Answer: In the event that it leads others to excitement or pleasure, then it is not allowed.
These are many more rules than those above, and the idea that women are responsible if they receive unwelcome sexual attention is pervasive. Check out this as another example:
… according to the fatawa of the late Ayatullah Khomeini, if keeping the face and hands open leads the young man to look at her with the intention of lust, then she must cover her face and hands and if speaking to him leads him to falling into corruption, then she must also keep away from this.
So anyone who thinks wearing a chador is a minor inconvenience, think again. There are even rules about reaching for things on high shelves – you have to made sure your sleeve doesn't fall down and expose your arm!
This, and all the other rules, put almost all the responsibility for non-consensual sexual interaction on women. They are required to dress in such a way as to not attract a man's attention. If they do and things go badly for them, that's their fault. And it's not just their clothing – they are also required to guard their gaze. They must keep their eyes lowered. Just looking a man in the eye is enough to give him the excuse to force himself on her.
All this goes back, of course, to the idea that women are the possessions of men. The reason we are required to cover ourselves is because our bodies do not belong to us but to a father, husband, brother, or son. Our bodies are a tool for the enjoyment of men, to look after them, and to bear their children.
Conservative Islam teaches that women will be safe from abuse if they follow the rules relating to dress. The problem is, it's not true. If children are brought up to treat one another with dignity and respect, taught values like compassion and kindness, and are given a sense of self-esteem, it is highly unlikely they will turn into rapists. On the other hand, a child who is taught that girls and women are possessions, are of lesser value than men, and that if they fail to dress in a certain way deserve some form of punishment, then a different result can be expected.
Further because of the attitude towards women in many conservative religious countries, it is impossible to even know the extent of the problem. Even in countries like New Zealand and Norway which are considered amongst the best in the world for women, many still don't report sexual assaults because of the stigma attached. In countries like Bangladesh, they're rarely reported at all. From Wikipedia:
Bangladesh has received criticism for its employment of the "two-finger test" in rape investigations. This test consists in a physical examination of women who report rape during which a doctor inserts two fingers in the woman's vagina to determine whether the woman is "habituated to sex". … This deters many women from reporting rape. More than 100 experts, including doctors, lawyers, police, and women's rights activists had signed a joint statement in 2013 asking for the test … to be abolished, as it "does not provide any evidence that is relevant to proving the offence."
The United Nations Multi-country Study on Men and Violence asked men in rural and urban Bangladesh if they had forced a woman to have sex at any point in their lives. 14.1% of men in rural Bangladesh and 9.5% of men in urban Bangladesh said yes (10% averaged). 2.7% of men in rural Bangladesh and 0.5% (6/1252) in urban Bangladesh had raped in the past year. In rural Bangladesh 47.4% of rapists perpetrated more than once, 3.7% had four or more victims, and 40% first raped as a teenager. 82% of rural Bangladeshi and 79% of urban Bangladeshi men cited entitlement as their reason for rape. 61.2% of urban Bangladeshi men who had raped did not feel guilty or worried afterwards, and 95.1% experienced no legal consequences. 3.7% of men in rural Bangladesh had raped another man. 89.2% of urban Bangladeshi men answered 'agree' or 'strongly agree' to the statement 'if a woman doesn't physically fight back, it's not rape.'
A word Rashid used in her report for Vice News was "vulnerable." It's so true. They are completely powerless and have no ability to control their own lives, to make the simplest of choices. This is the life of most of the women of Bangladesh and millions elsewhere in conservative religious countries. This is not a situation that can be banned of Western colonialism. In fact, a bit of that might even help.
As Rashid said to end her report, "Until there is a cultural change, shifting a responsibility on the perpetrator, there will be no justice for rape victims."
Update 21 May 2016: Jerry Coyne on his website Why Evolution Is True has also written a post about this video. It's called: Imam: Women must cover themselves to stifle men's uncontrollable lust and I thoroughly recommend it.
24 Responses to "Women Who Get Raped Go Straight To Hell"
Excellent and extremely unpleasant post, Heather.
Western colonialism managed to stop Hindus burning widows. At least that was one thing it got right.
Averroes, the great Muslim philosopher who influenced Aquinas (to incorporate reason into theology), held women for equal to men and decried the waste of the talents and productivity of half the population. That was in Andalusia in the 1200s. If he could see back then, there is no excuse for this kind of ignorance today. (It was Morrocco, if I remember correctly, where he served his exile.)
In 1650, Descartes theorized that perception takes place within the brain, rather than being triggered by qualities inherent in matter itself. This was of course borne out by subsequent science. Yet religious people (as well as people whose stupidity is not directly religious in origin) still think that perception of women is still determined by inherent qualities rather than in the visual cortex of the beholder. I think those of us who have freed ourselves from this pre-1650 dogma are justified in opposing, ridiculing and attacking in any (non-violent) way possible such infantilism.
It should be seen like toilet training. If you've failed to master it you need to take steps to protect others from yourself before you should be allowed out in public.
Excellent report and a very brave reporter, Tania Rashid. If anyone wonders why a country like Bangladeshi never progresses out of the dark ages, just watch some of this. Listening to the cop attempt to answer the reporters questions is just like listening to the Imam.
Jerry Coyne has also done a post about this clip, and it's excellent. See: https://whyevolutionistrue.wordpress.com/2016/05/20/imam-women-must-cover-themselves-to-stifle-mens-uncontrollable-lust/
Something struck me in the video -only very obliquely related to rape-, as despicable Islam is, there is something else playing a role too: the suffocating control of village life.
I wonder how much of 'women's liberation' is due to the move to the cities, throughout history and world-wide. Rural women might fear the City, but it definitely has it's attractions: a modicum of control over one's own life and choices (yes, I know I'm generalising, but still)
This is a powerful and well-done video. The segment with the raped woman was heart-breaking. But there is no evidence provided in this film that rape is more prevalent in Bangladesh, or any Islamic society than elsewhere. The police commander was a creep, but you could find such oafs in any American big city police department. Certainly we have policemen who have used their position to rape women. The rape occurred in a very poor region with only 50 police serving a million people spread out over a large area. It is not surprising that few are caught. Still one of the three men who raped the woman interviewed had been arrested. Everyone, including the rapists acknowledged that rape was wrong, and they were clearly afraid of being apprehended for their crime.
Although the film juxtaposed an interview with an Imam with the interviews of the rapists and rape victim, there was nothing in the testimony of either that the rapes were in any way related to religion. There are plenty of people in the US who say women invite rape by wearing scanty clothes or walking alone or going places they shouldn't. It's worth note that none of the women in the film were wearing a veil or full body covering and the head scarves of most women did not completely cover their hair.
As usual some perspective is in order. Heather, you included a quote from Wikipedia on rape in Bangladesh from the United Nations Multi-country Study on Men and Violence. The full report shows, that of all the countries studied, Bangladesh had the lowest incidence of men confessing to rape of any country studied. The figures were Bangladesh 10%, Sri Lanka 15%, Cambodia 20%, China 22%, Indonesia 23%, Indonesia-Papua 49%, Papua New Guinea 62% (numbers rounded). Of these only Bangladesh and Indonesia are predominately Muslim. Sri Lanka and Cambodia are predominately Buddhist, and Papua New Guinea and the Indonesian province of Papua are largely Christian.
Also, although statistics on rape are widely underreported, and their validity may vary widely from country, the Wikipedia entry cited in the post did provide some. Examples in rapes per 100,000 population: South Africa 140, New Zealand 25, USA 30, Sweden 60, Bangladesh 8.
Of all the Islamic regulations you have quoted, including from the Quran, associating them with a culture of rape, not one has justified rape. On the other hand there are a number of ¬¬¬passages in the Bible that condone rape: "Now kill all the boys and all the women who have slept with a man. Only the young girls who are virgins may live; you may keep them for yourselves."¬
So Heather, while I applaud your putting a spotlight on the horrible and world-wide tragedy of rape, the data suggest that you are mistaken in linking the incidence of rape to religion or to Islam in particular.
One of the biggest pitfalls of this "medium is the message" age is that often images trump data. A heart-rending story or especially video¬¬, no matter how isolated the incident, conveys an impression that is often not justified by the facts. Take a compelling rape story, combine it with an interview with an Imam, and some Islamic quotes about dress and sexual desire, and you have vivid illustration of the evils of Islam. Never mind that there is no evidence linking either the particular rape or rape in general with Islam. I accept your assurance that you don't intend "to create a climate of fear and hatred towards Muslims," but you can be sure that that is exactly the intention of freedomsfinalstand.com, which posted the clip of the Imam. Freedom's final stand! Reminiscent of Sam Harris' "Sleepwalking toward Armageddon", isn't it?
Yakaru, I do use the term Islamophobia, because most of the people I read in this context claim they are criticizing the religion, not the people. I think there are times however, when their rhetoric slips into Muslimophobia, as when they use survey data to show that a large percentage of Muslims agree with some of the more unsavory aspects of Islamic doctrine. I have found the use of the terms to be inconsistent, especially by some who claim there is no such thing as Islamophobia. I refer to people as Islamophobes who consistently attribute bad behavior by Muslims to their religion.
I "have a chip on my shoulders" about US military interference in the affairs of other countries because of 70 years of experience with US foreign policy. When I was young the US assumed France's role in a colonial war to suppress an independence struggle in Vietnam. The government fanned fear and loathing of Communism, together with some implicit racism to induce the people to support the war. They fabricated an event (Gulf of Tonkin) to make it appear the other side was the aggressor. The result was over 2 million killed, including 58,000 Americans. And we achieved nothing except to create chaos in the whole region, giving rise to, among other things, the murderous regime of Pol Pot in Cambodia (which we bombed extensively in spite of government lies that we weren't).
Did we learn from this fiasco? With the collapse of the Soviet Union we no longer had to project force around the world to resist the inexorable spread of international communism (as we had been told). But the neocons proposed this idea that we are the "indispensable nation", and that only we could preserve world order by intervening wherever we felt necessary. (I don't believe Hitchens and Harris were part of the original neocon group, and I don't think I have ever called them that, though I have claimed that their anti-Islam rhetoric forwarded the neocon agenda.)
I have still not heard a convincing explanation of why we invaded Iraq, but Bush2 et al thought it was necessary. They capitalized on the fear invoked in the populace by the 9/11 attacks, insinuated that Iraq was involved in that attack, although they knew differently, and fabricated evidence to make Saddam Hussein appear much more dangerous than he was. Although Bush and other leaders claimed that we were not attacking Islam, anti-Islamic rhetoric became more and more fashionable. You know the results: a couple hundred thousand killed in the initial Iraq war, but also a chain of destabling events that still has the region in chaos 13 years after the invasion.
Anyone who thinks that the same influential sector of American society, war-profiteers, bullies, neocons, that dragged us into Vietnam and Iraq, are not still actively looking for opportunities to deploy the American military, is in deep denial.
I think you have mischarcterized my thinking at the end of your comment. I am keenly aware of the damage religion has done throughout history, including the role of Christians in the US supporting the military adventures I mentioned above. I accept that religion has an influence, both bad and good on people's behavior, but I reject simplistic explanations that claim that religion "caused" the Charlie Hebdo attacks, for example. To say that jihadism is due to Islam is as if I bullied someone repeatedly and when they struck back I attributed it to their poor upbringing. And I can't recall ever in these discussions, attributing positive behavior to religion.
It's rather frustrating that when I provide substantial data and arguments to a discussion, as I believe I did in my original comment here, the responses don't address the evidence but instead my motives. Does Islam promote a rape culture? Heather's post implied yes. I claimed that the evidence does not support that assertion. I was not attacking Heather, but her argument, or thesis. Now you accuse me of willful ignorance and triple standards without ever addressing the question at hand. Well, I've been called a lot of things, including some by you I believe. But I have also found you to be a sincere and thoughtful participant in our conversations, so I try to not let personal pique stand in the way of reasoned discussion.
Religion and Culture: The compound subject of my lifetime of study. Post Christian non-scholars in the West have convinced themselves that these are separate categories, when a hyphenated use of them is more apposite. The fatuous assertion that generalizations about one religion versus another are invalid betrays an unfamiliarity with empirical scholarship. To say the same about cultures is even more glaring nonsense. To invoke psycho-sociological speculation about what are immense differences between cultures deriving from immense differences among their religions' founders fails to get at the truth. Simply asserting that Islam is no more culturally connected with rape than any other religion proves little beyond the well known fact that Wikipedia is where propagandists go to post and where naive inquiring minds go to be duped. Politeness is very nice up to the point where it requires willful distortion and contra-factual rhetoric yet far short of the stage where its continuance brings on the premature collapse of that tough minded Reality we once designated with such justifiable pride as "Civilization."


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NEW DELHI: Indian steel imports will go down substantially in FY17 on the back of imposition of minimum import price (MIP) while domestic steel prices are likely to increase by Rs 2,700-3,400 per tonne in the coming months, rating agency ICRA said.
"With the MIP covering almost the entire spectrum of steel products, which accounted for 87 per cent and 98 per cent of India's total steel imports in FY15 and April-November of FY16, its impact on curbing imports is likely to be more effective than import duty hikes or SGD," the agency said.
The government notified imposition of MIP on February 5 on 173 categories of flat and long steel products for a period of 6 months.
Prior to it, the government levied safeguard duty (SGD) of 20 per cent on hot-rolled coils (HRC) of width greater than 600 mm in September 2015, and hiked import duty on steel twice by 2.5 percentage points each in June and August 2015.
"These earlier measures however failed to have any material impact on reducing imports which, even after the imposition of SGD, continued to increase in Q3 FY16 as well, growing by 11.6 per cent year on year (yoy), and 3.13 per cent quarter on quarter (qoq)," ICRA said.
The MIP regime is expected to improve the margins and capacity utilisations of stronger domestic steel players, it said.
"However, the extent of margin improvement is unlikely to be sustained over the medium term, given the likely demand-supply mismatch in the domestic industry at current demand growth rates, expectation of weak steel prices in international markets and a limited validity period of six months initially for MIP," it added.
ICRA believes that a strong recovery of domestic demand conditions would be critical for a sustainable improvement in the credit profile of domestic steel players, it said, adding that domestic prices are expected to increase by Rs 2700-3400/MT in the coming months.
Domestic prices expected to increase by Rs 2700-3400/MT in the coming months.
"The MIP on HRC has been fixed in the range of USD 445-500/MT and for cold rolled coil (CRC), it is fixed at USD 560/MT. At current domestic prices, imported HRC, after the imposition of MIP, will be USD 130/MT more expensive than domestic exworks HRC price, thereby making imports unviable," it said.
Domestic HRC and CRC prices will therefore recover in the coming months."However, the extent of rise will not be as sharp as the current price differential between import offers and MIP, which is USD 130-200/MT. ICRA expects the quantum of increase to be much lower, in the range of USD 40-50/MT," it said.


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The U.S. Department of Homeland Security's (DHS) most important mission it to protect the American people. As part of this mission, DHS fosters collaboration between the private sector and the public sector to mitigate risk and enhance the security and resilience of public gathering sites and special events.
DHS provides expert counsel and recommendations on protective measures that organizations of all sizes can implement to protect facilities and venues. These tools and resources are offered free to communities because the Department recognizes that communities are the first line of defense in keeping the public safe and secure.
Securing Soft Targets and Crowded PlacesSoft targets and crowded places are increasingly appealing to terrorists and other extremist actors because of their relative accessibility and the large number of potential targets. This challenge is complicated by the prevalent use of simple tactics and less sophisticated attacks.
Connect, Plan, Train, ReportThe Department encourages businesses to Connect, Plan, Train, and Report. Applying these four steps in advance of an incident or attack can help better prepare businesses and their employees to proactively think about the role they play in the safety and security of their businesses and communities.
Last Updated Date: September 10, 2019


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Bags under your eyes
Bags under your eyes - a short story.
8th May 2007 - Kathmandu, Nepal.
I met a man today, he was neither small nor large, he had interesting eyes and the kind of skin that said travel.
He was neither harsh nor soft in his demeanour, a stooped gait gave a way a lifetime's carrying and indeed he probably had carried much, he was on this occasion weighed down by two large and luxurious bags. One in each hand. At the time we met he was struggling up the hotel stairs with these two voluminous cargoes. While others came and went in great haste, his slow bent demeanour gave away nobility and presence but there was something I couldn't put my finger on. There was more to this man, there was story that drew me. I needed to know more.
We didn't meet up again until the sun was going down later that day. It had been a hot day, the kind that dried the mouths of even the best watered animals in the street, dusty and ambivalent, nothing extreme, just another hot day in a foreign country.
I caught his eyes as he was adjusting his appearance, a nervous tucking in and out of his shirt preceded a quick visual pass around the room. Then I saw, I saw into his eyes fleetingly, the experience of photography, thirty years of insight into mood, of gazing into the souls of a hundred tribes, a thousand occupations and countless dispositions of faith had left me with an unnecessarily vigorous system for cataloguing the types that you found. Hotels were too simple, there were only so many types who could stomach travel to these parts & with varying degrees of insensitivity or egoic miscalculation and judgement left only a small handful of conscious individuals worthy of further conversation or so I thought. Here was a man with eyes that spoke of sensitivity, dark eyes that were hiding great stories and a warmth that was alien in the dust bowls of the developing world. His eyes acknowledged mine with a firmness that reflected my kindred spirit and opened invitation to further acquaintance.
He was on his way to seek new friendships in the temple close to the hotel. Something he told me he had to do, there was no intonation as he spoke, just a straight recollection of fact, no emotion, just a recounting of detail as he saw it. I could see this lack of emotion, this ambivalence to the rest of the world was a guard , but guarding what? He gave nothing away, was he a journalist, a photographer too or just a great philanthropist following a dogma, a pattern through his world that took him for momentary relief in his pain body to revelational insight into higher levels of consciousness he so plainly had visited but wasn't consistently attaining.
I broke with my tradition of 'leaving be' to furnish my own curiosity to see if I could feel a way through.
He was a salesman, a marketer, an artist a man of great accomplishment there was plainly nothing he hadn't done, nothing that he feared as a goal, a challenge or as a pursuit. He was here collecting stories and anecdotes for a project he was pursuing. A noble project, a work of art he was building alongside many of his clients, a collaboration, a piece about the Spirit of man. What he felt drove the world to achieve the greatnesses and true lasting legacies in the midst of all insanity. There was no joy in his account, it was a flat but incredibly well thought out piece. Every corner of his art had been measured, drawn up and allocated a slot in the tableau of what would undoubtedly be a work of great worth.
It struck me with the grace of one of the wild fighting Tibetan dogs that this was the ultimate irony. If ever a soul needed space for his own joy, his own love and if ever there was a soul who had so much to give and so little time to do so then here he was. A travelling man, a restless energy, a lost piece in a cosmic map that was so short of vibrant pieces at this point in our planets history.
We agreed to meet for breakfast and I was left musing overnight on why this gentleman had dug so deep a hole in my usually quite solid presence of mind. After much unnecessary psychological musing I concluded that this was as important a meeting for both ourselves and that the next day would reveal the greatness and wonderment of it all. Choosing to focus on the struggle of the small blue flowers that were growing on the balcony outside, against all odds, stunted by extremes of temperature, I drifted asleep content with the world as it was.
The temple had been a success, a radiant smile cracked over a much creased face to explain he had interviewed the lama, they had discussed his academic proposal to film short clips of the Dalai Lama's thoughts of the relationship of man with mountain and that they had both agreed on a plan to write to this great man jointly. I could feel his excitement, I was physically being thrown around by the egoic turmoil of a mind sea that was the rival of a storm in the Southern Ocean. It then occurred to me why I was privileged to all this. I was the harbour needed for the sailing, the fuelling and stocking of provisions before the big sail into the depths of spiritual blankness. He had obviously not reached a sustainable or consistent way of bringing his house of mind into discipline and every project however well planned, rigorously detailed was a giant risk - that the stillness, the calm couldn't be maintained, that somewhere on the journey he would drown or suffocate in the thin air, sandstorms or storm tossed seas of the worlds spiritual deserts. The life strategy was a goal to goal blinkered attack on the spiritual nodes of safe haven he found on the way. Port to port he sought fellow spirits with more consistent disposition to draw on the light, the great eternal consciousness that was the stuff of all discoveries feats and endurance in the world of mind form, ego and psychological management.
Enlightenment I thought would be the easing of his load and then I saw he had brought his bags to breakfast.
They were meticulously tied up, smartly labelled and clean.
There were two bags, one in a beautiful russet brown, the colour of an African watering hole, where the dust is thrown around by the animals as they push and shove to stay alive over our most precious resource - daily water. This bag was even marked with next days date.
The second bag was more intriguingly tagged, a series of old fragment luggage stamps and airport labels revealed a lifetimes' travel. A darker leather bag substantially bigger than the first bag, it had many many zips and pockets, it had an easy to carry handle that looked extremely comfortable. This bag was black in the way that no light could escape. All light would be absorbed onto the cowhide polished efficiency of this portable filing cabinet of all things 'travel'.
He always carried these two bags wherever, nothing more, nothing less. Intrigued as ever, I asked why not just the one bag? The answer was simple and to the point.
'You never know', he responded with the automation of an airport vending machine, what the future will bring - and that's this bag. He raised the the bag with the date on. Proudly he unzipped a material nirvana of zipped pockets, a veritable temple of consumerism and contingency burst out of the pigeon holes, the structured neatness was quite beautiful in its calculated line. Its regulated regimented order and its overwhelming comprehensive structure and versatility. Nothing couldn't be achieved with the contents of this bag. Every conceivable device, gadget, garment and survival item had been organised into this utopian dream.
I pointed to the second bag and he was less enthusiastic, an aversion in his gaze led me to believe he was less proud of this one. This, he spoke, is just my personal stuff, you know, the day to day stuff you collect, you find really useful and you need. In it he had the collected essentials of what must have been several lifetimes of travel clothing and random shopping. There were beads, sandals, pendants, brooches, small carved statues, flags and a great many compartments as with the last bag, all labelled, all filed all regimented. There was no energy here, just a deadness of space. You had to marvel at the intricacy with which it was packed but you had to question how one man had accumulated so much stuff and why he was carrying it around everywhere. This is me, he blurted out, uncharacteristically, and I could see it was. This entire life was defined by the the contents of that suitcase. The Ethiopian bead, the Indonesian face mask, the Colorado shorts and the stuffed rabbits foot. There were no pictures of children, friends or family, just things, cold lifeless things that mesmerised you, drew you in to an intriguing journey of past memory. What, I asked him, happens when an opportunity arises to go somewhere where you cannot take you luggage, somewhere exciting, an adventure, perhaps climbing a mountain.
Oh, he adopted a calm thoughtful disposition, and tilted his head to one side. He had rehearsed this, I travel up here, and tapped the side of his head.
He was absolutely convinced and absolutely set on this. There was no negotiation he would do with what he had and there would be no more. But do you never wonder what might be around the corner what great experiences you might miss travelling with such a heavy load? No, he was firm now, the greatest journey's never finish, anyway the greatest paintings merely stop at interesting points, my argument is that if we are all merely on a journey why must it have an end, a beginning or even a point?
I had to agree with him, I had always measured my journeys in friends made, not in miles, but here was an exceptional contradiction - he didn't make friends just business contacts, he didn't journey for the journey, just for the goal itself. It wasn't in my opinion a life, but I knew as my 'Gods', my 'Being' had taught me that this was 'his way' and that great consciousness and the light was the only teacher in the darkness of such journeys.
And then with an unexpected lucidity this man whose eyes had caught my attention, this man who I was starting to judge in a reversal of all my teachings made a start with his hands and reached across the table to touch mine. We are not so unalike, he began with a grey bearded wisdom, we are borne of the same material, we are destined for the same end, we are all part of the same great consciousness of being, the same unified energy it is only the presence of now of looking at every moment of every day with the concentration of the forces of nature herself that we realise we ARE the forces of nature.
He drew his chair up nearer to mine and I looked into his eyes more deeply, I saw the untold stories, I saw the fires burn of a thousand camps, the tears of pain body unreleased that had travelled the whole universe an infinite number of lifetimes, I saw the proximity, the nearness of the light, the warmth, the glow of being, of human being and I saw the presence in the face of all.
It was a clearness, a clarity of vision, a truth and a way forward for us all. I looked from my position in the hotel lobby straight across the room to the tall and dark mirror and I saw no more bags.
Si Homfray


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Loose Leaves
Eamon Gilmore's book of inspiration in the pipeline:With Eamon Gilmore's star surging ahead in opinion-poll ratings, it's apposite that the Labour Party leader has written a book called Leading Lights: People Who've Inspired Me, to be published in early November.
Liberties Press approached him last year about the possibility of a book, which he has since written in collaboration with Yseult Thornley, daughter of the late broadcaster and Labour TD David Thornley, who collected and edited Unquiet Spirit, a collection of essays in memory of her father that Liberties published in 2008. The Gilmore book features people from both his personal and his political life, as well as from other fields. Included are his grandmother, TK Whitaker and Martin Luther King.
Lonely banker at heart of Paul Murray's new novel
Fans of Paul Murray's Skippy Dieswill be glad to hear that the young Dublin writer has a new novel in the pipeline, even if it won't be out until 2013. Set in contemporary Dublin and narrated by Claude, a lonely French banker who believes himself to be cursed by blandness and finds himself shadowed by a mysterious author, it has been snapped up by Hamish Hamilton. It's good news, because Murray takes his time between novels – a modus operandi that obviously works for him. His first novel, An Evening of Long Goodbyes, which was shortlisted for the Whitbread First Novel Award, came out in 2003. Then seven years passed before the publication of Skippy Dies. Juliette Mitchell of Hamish Hamilton says: "The pages we've read from the new novel show that Paul's imagination has plenty more life in it, and we look forward to seeing his reputation – and his audience – grow and grow."
Trinity throws a bash for its prize-winning poet
Trinity College Dublin, where she has taught in the school of English for decades, gave Eiléan Ní Chuilleanáin, winner of the 2010 Griffin International Poetry Prize, a formal welcome home this week with a party hosted by its provost, John Hegarty, in his residence at 1 Grafton Street. "I'd like to thank Trinity for giving me a job where, when I was writing a poem, I always knew that I should be doing something else," said the poet, who reassured her colleagues, both inside and outside the academic world: "I have not forgotten how little difference a big award makes to anyone's real opinion of me."
Short-story writer's star burns brightly in Cork
A collection deemed to be relevant to the difficult times we live in, where the misfortune affecting many of us is imposed by conditions outside our control: that's what the judges of the €35,000 Cork City–Frank O'Connor Short Story Award saw in Burning Bright, by the American Ron Rash, which has won this year's prize; previous winners include Jhumpa Lahiri, Yiyun Li and Haruki Murakami. Patrick Cotter of Munster Literature Centre, which gives the award, said Rash plunges the reader into a strange, brutal imagination. "The world of the book roams far in time but in space occupies the demanding landscape of Appalachia. Landscape is as strong a character in this book as any human figure. Time and again Rash demonstrates how place and environment impinge upon an individual's ability to exercise free will and control the direction of their life. Burning Bright was judged an emotionally affecting book, a technically brilliant achievement."


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An exciting game set out in space. Aim at the spacial Letris to launch your stellar ball. Avoid the meteorites when you shoot to prevent loosing. In this fun way you will learn to identify adverbs, prepositions, conjunctions and much more. Let's start the challenge!
Adverbs: concept & types. Connections: prepositions & conjunctions. The subject & the predícate in sentences.


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Remodeling – And First Art Post
June 30, 2014
The times, they are a-changing…so let's get some updates out of the way.
Website: I've been sprucing the old place up a little bit. The mold has been cleared and some new curtains have been hung. I ripped out the carpet and replaced it with bamboo flooring. I even remodeled an entire room. (But the smell of Fritos and toenail clippings is still hanging in the air.) Also, the Thing that was Living in the Fridge wanted me to tell you that he's learned to speak English and he's hoping you all are doing well. (Then he went outside and ate another stray cat or two).
To share something completely honest, I'm not the most tech-savvy of the bunch. I'm not sure if those of you who "subscribe" to this blog get updated whenever I change anything on a page…but if you do get updated, then please forgive me for changing things and then making you think this site has been more productive that it has been, then you get hit with a post that also updates you on things you've already been updated on.
If you don't get updated then shut up and listen because it's about to go down.
I've deleted the page that was called "Comics". It featured a bunch of little doodles in the form of comic strips that I thought were funny at 3 in the morning about two years ago. They were bad. Like…really bad. Not even cute bad. So bad that I when I looked at them for the first time in over a year, I started to question what I was thinking. And I mean really question my mental health. I looked at these things and I reacted like they were photos of experimental surgeries during World War II. I think I'm going to get subpoenaed to testify in some war crimes court at The Hague.
Sooo…I killed them. They're dead and will never bother us again.
Until now…
From this page's ashes has risen another creative outlet. It's called "Art".
:::puts on beret and dark sunglasses:::
That's right guys…I'm artsy…
I've been dabbling in watercolor for the past year. I'm not very good. I am not well educated in the media nor the idea of what makes art…art, but that hasn't stopped me from trying. I feel like I'll share with you some of the stuff I've painted in the past and anything else I might paint in the future as long as I don't think I'll get too ridiculed by myself in two years when I look back on the content of this page. (On a side note, I'm not sure if Double Jeopardy is a thing in International Court.)
Here will be the first piece I share with you. It's called Robot on a Building.
I know all of you have questions, so allow me to knock a few of those out of the way for you.
Q & A Time!!! (Where I ask the questions and I give the answers)
Why is that the name of the painting? Because it's a robot, and he's sitting on a building. If you think of something better, let me know, I'll change it for you.
What's the idea behind it? I thought about drawing a robot sitting on a building looking like he was bored from destroying the city. Then I got the bright idea of put the itsy-bitsy little girl with a balloon at the bottom looking up at the robot. Now it just looks like that robot is really bored with this little girl. Like, maybe the whole world has hidden and only this simple little girl with a freaking balloon and bad parents went out to reason with this robot. He is not entertained and is probably thinking about using his giant antenna to catch the last half of the ball game he's been missing doing all this busy robot work.
Is the city supposed to look like it's on fire? No. I was trying to make it look like a sunset was happening in the background…but if you want to seen it as a burning city behind him, go for it. Heck, it even makes it look like it was planned when you think about it. But no…I'm not that smart.
Why are the buildings crooked? Because I can't draw straight lines.
Why is their some sort of dial on his chest? Are we supposed to suspect that he can somehow look down on his own chest and tell what the reading is? Come on guys…calm down…it's just a drawing. It looked really robot-y in my head and made sense when I drew it.
How long did it take you to make this? I think it was close to 3 hours. like…maybe 1 and a half to draw with a pencil, erase everything at least 3 times, and redraw it at least 3 times. Another 30 to go over everything with a pen and not make straight lines with the buildings on the side. And the last 30 to paint and all that jazz.
When are you going to get better? Shut up…
So on the art page you'll find this painting as well as two others. I know…I'm forcing you to visit the page in order to see what they are. I know, how could you be so lucky? Right? Because as moderator of this blog, I'm a tyrant, but a benevolent one.
Reading: I've been reading a lot lately and it feels wonderful. I'm about halfway through the book Wizard and Glass. I've been really thinking a lot about the book, so expect my next post (Wednesday) to feature a very long-winded synopsis and analysis on how I think it applies to my life (and maybe your life despite you not reading it).
Writing: Friday's post will be a short story. It may or may not be called The Thing that Lived in my Fridge: A Love Story. Prepare yourself.
Now, it's Monday morning, so you're probably groggy and tired still. Maybe you're perusing this site while sipping on your second cup of coffee. You might be reading this during your lunch break. Thank you for wasting your time with me. (I'm still on vacation, so I'm going to taunt you while I can).
But remember: People aren't paying you to lollygag. Get back to work.
Toenail Clippings and Fritos
June 20, 2014
I used to call this blog home. Then I left on a weekend trip and said I'd return shortly. But then my car died on the way back and I had to catch a plane instead. But the plane had to get rerouted due to some dude pooping his pants on the flight (the air marshal thought he meant something different what he said he'd "dropped a deuce"). When we landed I was stuck in customs forever and they said I couldn't enter the country. Apparently I had boarded the wrong plane and ended up on another continent. I eventually broke myself out of that prison of a terminal (a la' Shawshank style). Then I was captured by pirates and held for ransom for over 14 weeks. They demanded that Paula Deen be put back on the air, and until her recent internet channel/program announcement, that's where I've been.
And you would think those pirates knew how to cook anything with all the devoted watching of her butter soaked recipes.
But here I am. I'm back. But what's happened to the place? Mike said he'd watch it while I was gone.
I had to kick away some buzzards who had taken up residence at the entrance. Apparently they were eating the mice in the overgrown yard and must have been trying to make some abstract art using their fecal matter. (In all honesty, it's not too bad). The front door had police tape strewn across and had a moldy patina on the edges.
When I finally got my key to fit in the lock I opened the door the smell of old toenail clippings and Fritos. The blinds were askew but small slits of light ignited the dust particles that floated in the air. The wallpaper was peeling in one dark corner and all of the furniture was missing except the mini bus sized couch. May book collection was partially toppled from their shelves and the legs on the bookcase cracked.
I turn on a light switch only to hear a loud pop and the smell of burnt plastic. One of the bulbs glows dimly, flickering as its coils feel electricity for the first time in years. I drop my bag of hotel soaps and bathrobes from my last stop at a Motel 8.
I flop down in the center of the couch and let the slightly damp cushions hug me. I close my eyes and try to remember the good things that happened in this place.
I remember this was a place of comfort, a place of dreams and goals. This was a place for me to be open and up front. This was a place built by myself and for myself. I remember the poorly written jokes and the even more poorly written stories that were crafted here. These walls soaked in all those ideas and kept them from escape. They kept them safe from storms outside and the nosey neighbors around.
I take in a deep breath and open my eyes.
There is a fate for this place. Most would have it condemned and demolished; some would just torch it and take the insurance money. Some would pull out a hotplate and sell ramen noodle soup from here claiming it was a new and hipster "gastropub" experience.
I, on the other hand, feel too much nostalgia. I can't possibly let this place continue to decay. This place can return to its once red moonlit glory. It can once again be a place full of life and goals. I can post banners of failures and banners victories all about. Everybody can once again enjoy the life, writings, and failures of D.A. Bancroft.
So, there it is folks. I think I've come back to the old digs.
Yeah, maybe a gut job is required. I might even need to do some work on the foundation. I know the plumbing is full of earthworms and the wiring might have shorted out completely. I'm pretty sure I even left stuff in the fridge… there might be an entire microcosm in there by now. I'll fiddle with that later.
But at least this means I get to reimagine what the space can be used for.
A good cleaning, some new furniture, and a splash of paint can go a long way.
Yup…home sweet home…
Here I am…
If anybody is still out there…come on by. Maybe bring me a bottle of bleach and some home baked cookies. I could use both.
I Almost Died Today
April 30, 2013
(Kinda sorta, but more of a statement of fact than fantasy)
I shall embellish as necessary. You know, for entertainment purposes. But I think as I write this I will end up being more truthful than anything.
SO THERE I WAS… learning how to play Earth, Wind, and Fire's song September on guitar. (Yeah, specifically this song) And I hear a little bit o' thunder in the background. But, hey, I pay no mind to a little thunder. I live in Florida after all, thunder is just as common as senior citizens driving golf carts and theme parks.
By the way, in order to get in the mood, you should listen to this as you read on.
So I keep groovin' and the thunder keeps boomin'.
Now, I should preface everything I'm about to say with this statement. One of my biggest fears is severe weather and only in recent years (let's say the past 7 or so) I've been able to quell the fear that surges through me when I hear the emergency alert system buzz. Since I've been living on my own I have not been in a severe weather event. So… this was a first for me. Facing a major fear while totally alone and helpless.
So, as I was saying, I kept playing.
For whatever reason I decided to glance out the window and see if it was even raining yet.
Yeah, quite a bit actually. And the wind was looking rather breezy.
This, in my mind, qualifies as a level 2 threat (on a scale of 1 to 10 of course). This means I pull up a website that has some current radar for my area.
"No biggie" I think to myself. "Tis but a sprinkle." (Yeah, that's how I talk to myself)
Then the webpage seems aglow with…colors. Like freaking Christmas trees colors. All of them on top of my homestead.
"Oh eff…" I say to myself (and yes, I say eff as a word, deal with it)
I turn on the T.V. and click to a local news station. I'm immediately bombarded with the familiar buzz of the EAS and it telling me, nay, SCREAMING at me, words I don't want to see.
Looked and sounded a lot like this.
And my car isn't even in the garage… MOTHER OF PEARL!
So I do what any responsible, conscientious, well thought out person would do. I put down my guitar, grabbed a pillow and stood in front of the T.V. like a moron.
Then I start to hear the rain start to roar, and my apartment (not homestead, sorry) starts to vibrate flood falling from above. I look outside and see how it's near white outside with rain and the few trees I can see are whipping around as if they were some wet haired woman in a Whitesnake music video.
Oh boy.
So I put on some house slippers and begin to wonder if I should move to the closet or the bathroom (which is pretty much the same place). My panic stricken mind agrees that the best place would be the shower. More support in the walls as well as the tub to help with reinforcing me in place. (No basement and I live on the second story, I'm screwed no matter what).
So, I stand in the shower until I hear the roar of 1 inch thick hail pound on my windows, door, roof, (and my poor car). I even hear the whipping of the trees outside of my place shake violently.
This happens for about 45 agonizing seconds. In which time I said the foxhole prayer 3 times and started contemplating whether I should pull out my phone and record my last will and testament as I wait for the tornado to sweep me away to the land of Oz. I thought, "This is it D.A., you're a gonner."
It really started to sound like something from War of the Worlds was going on outside.
Then it stopped just as quick as it started.
Quivering, holding a small pillow, I stepped out of my tub and into the living room. The updated radar indicated it had passed overhead. I was in the clear.
I picked up the guitar again and played for another hour. Went to the store and picked up a steak. Cooked that steak with some green peppers and onions, with a baked potato on the side. I enjoyed every bite a little more knowing the chemicals in my brain still let me remember that I thought I was going to die on this day, April 30th, 2013.
Let's recap what we should have learned from this experience.
1. I might want to take notice of the weather a little faster next time, juuuuust in case the giant swirly wind tube of destruction decides my presence is needed elsewhere.
2. I need to consider putting my car IN the garage when I know a storm might be a-brewin'.
3. I make tornadoes happen when I play Earth, Wind, and Fire on guitar.
Now, fear me.
This Place is a Mess
May 1, 2012
Just look around here! There are digital cobwebs in the corners of this page for Pete's sake. All the pixels are very dusty. There is even a new section of my blog called "even older posts." It's a lot like an elephant burial ground. Very morbid. Very sad.
No, don't look for it. It doesn't really exist. I'm just pointing out that this place is practically falling apart without me.
So we need to spiff things back up! But a little elbow grease into those dusty areas. Spruce it up a notch or two. Maybe put in a nice potted plant to balance the room. Feng Shui if you will. How about a bonsai tree?
Now that our chakras are in line, let's meditate on the vastness of the universe together.
Remember, breath in through the nose and out through the mouth.
:::Deep breath:::
:::Deep cough due to the dusty room:::
So whatever happened to that girl that said she was going to take care of this place anyway? She's a real slacker.
What's up? How have you been? How's the wife and kids? Or the cats? Or the nothing?
That sounds much better. "How's the nothing?"
Oh me? Oh, yeah, things are fine. As always. They're just dandy…
Since we're being so personal let's go ahead and address the elephant in the room. I haven't posted in a little while because I'm a lazy bum. Don't feel bad though. I've neglected everything else as well. It wasn't until today and yesterday that I finally caught up in grading homework from about three weeks ago.
Yeah…I'm a bad person.
As for what's been going on at work:
We're hitting the part of the year when everything HAS to fall in place. If it doesn't then we screw everything up. Grades need to be ready soon. Testing starts back up next week. I have to do inventory for the lab supplies. And I'm certain there are going to be meetings out of the Wazoo. (For those of you who don't know, the Wazoo is a small and secretive hut used by teachers to have very cramped and pointless meetings. It is usually found behind the cafeteria dumpsters.)
As for what's been going on in writing:
Not a whole lot. These words you see here are actually the first words I've written in about a week. (This means if you received any email/messages from me you are either 1) very lucky because I haven't done much of anything lately or 2) It's not actually me it's an evil doppelganger that somehow found out how to log on to my account.)
As for what's been going on in life:
I have taken up a new hobby. I drink "gourmet sodas" and I am currently in the search for the perfect cream soda. My journey thus far has taken me to some interesting places. I'll be sure to share some of these awesome sodas with you soon enough.
Oh, you know why you'll learn about them? Because I'm going to introduce my very first weekly post.
NEW GOAL: (I love making up goals too much). Create and maintain a weekly segment of posts. They shall henceforth fall on Thursday.
It shall also be known as THIRSTY THURSDAY. It will be my weekly review of another silly soda that has gourmet credentials. (I.E. says "gourmet" on the bottle.)
Sound good? Cool.
So that's Thursdays planned for the next foreseeable future. (Or until I find that perfect cream soda.)
I'm also going to do my best to make sure that I'm trowing up (bleh!) something on here for the next week. That's right. It's another goal of 1 post per day for a week. (When it rains, it pours.)
Maybe some of those posts will be meaningful. Maybe some of them will feature kittens (because everybody loves kittens, right?). There's even a chance that they could feature me ranting about how I almost killed myself at work the other day. I dunno, but the real point is, expect some more activity on my side of the screen very shortly.
We got things to do.
Quaint Dream and Reading
April 23, 2012
Yesterday I awoke with the strangest memory of the strangest dream. I'm going to relay every detail to you. Maybe there is a special meaning behind it. Maybe it's just random firing of synapses in my cerebral cortex while I enter R.E.M stages of sleep. Maybe it's not really a dream but a memory from some very odd sleep walking.
In my dream I wake up. I'm in my bed and everything seems normal. Bed sheets are green, lights are off, and fan is on.
I drudge myself out from under the covers and stumble toward my shorts that are laying on the ground. The shorts are the same shorts that I had worn the day previously and had taken them off before I went to bed. As I shakily place one leg into the opening I manage to lose my balance more than usual. I step through and feel constrained. I try the other leg and can't quite reach through the other side.
My shorts have magically become pants.
And then I woke up. For real wake up.
Weird…I know. But that was the entire thing.
I should take this opportunity to mention that I've been reading a lot lately. This feels really good because I haven't read anything of substance for a long time.
But this sword is double bladed. While I'm reading more, I'm writing less. I know this shouldn't be true. The experts (whoever they are) always say, "writers read." I'll be honest, I know I should read more, but if I were to do that, my brain would be more preoccupied with reading than writing. I just feel so engrossed in a good story that I really don't want to put it down. (Also, I think I've mentioned this before, but I read very slowly.)
What exactly have I been reading?
I'm so glad you asked.
- The Gunslinger by Stephen King
- Fuzzy Nation by John Scalzi
- The Drawing of the Three by Stephen King
- Thud! by Terry Pratchett (currently reading)
This certainly is a strange mix of novels. But
That's What I Used To Say?
April 18, 2012
Two in a row…first time in a while.
I don't have much to say (due to the crazy/laziness in my life right now), but I do have a funny little thing to share with you.
You know how phrases are used all the time? People will say things like "Right as rain" and "Scared half to death". These phrases are things I heard when I was growing up. When I learned them, I didn't understand how the phrase came to exist, only that it existed.
You can see this in little kids when they try to repeat certain phrases. They may not say "half to death", they will probably say something close to it like "haftadef". It's close, but it's not really what is being said. If anything we think it's cute, which only reinforces that child to misuse or mispronounce the words they are trying to say.
Saying that, I now tell you this.
When I was a kid, I though the phrase "tickle me pink" was actually "pickle me pink".
It sounds like a punchline to a dirty Irish limerick.
And now that I've embarrassed the six-year-old me, I bid you adieu.
5 Days
April 17, 2012
Wow. Holy smokes. Hot cheetoes and rice.
Five days since my last post. It's almost like I relapsed. I got a whiff of the laziness and I just fell back into the old habit. It has been so long since any original content on here I think my little red moon has some cobwebs around it. You see that?
I guess it hasn't all been laziness. A good portion of it can be blamed on the increased workload toward the end of the year. For example:
No, I'm not incorrectly cursing about a cat. It's the state mandated test that occurs in every school in the state of Florida. This week is offically known as FCAT week.
This means kids take a two hour long test on Monday and Tuesday. Then the school scrambles to make sure that every kid who missed taking it on those days end up taking it on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. If they don't take the test, they fail the test. If they fail the test, they can't graduate. Luckily this test is given to the 10th graders. So they got 2 more years to make it up. (That happens the week before FCAT Week).
So, this also means the normal hours of the day change. Kids are shuffled around and classes are shorter. Not to mention, we all know kids who just took the test as tired from taking one of the most important tests of the school year. So your day for teaching new material is pretty much shot.
Then I'm getting kicked out of my room for the Wednesday/Thursday Panic-and-make-sure-everybody-has-been-tested days-so-we're-going-to-steal-your-classroom-all-day sort of thing. That means tomorrow and Thursday I will be in a room other than my own. That also means 12 kids will probably not remember I told them to go to a different room tomorrow. Which means many kids are going to get tardies (teacherism) for not showing up to class on time.
Since I'm in a different room (with a shorter class period might I add), the kids will be distracted and won't want to learn.
So it's an uphill battle all week. A guy can't win.
Oh, and in three weeks the kids take their End Of Course Exams. This exam determines if they pass the class or not. And yes, it occurs four weeks BEFORE the class offically ends.
So what do we do for those four weeks after the class material has all been taught?
I dunno…ask me in about four weeks.
Just Dropped Off A Cliff
April 12, 2012
Sorry again everybody. I've been a real lazy bum for the past few days.
I'm not sure why, but I have been totally drained of energy. Today was the first day in a while where I think I could actually type something legible.
I guess it is just work. Been very busy lately. Feel totally drained when I get home, then I can't fall asleep. What's up with that?
And there are tons of emails I haven't even responded to. I'm a bad person. Sorry again.
So what can I do to make it up to you?
Stub a toe? Rip a pair of pants? Sneeze so hard it makes me double over and hit my head on my desk?
Well, I'm not that kind of guy. How about I just pick up where I left off?
Now that I'm typing away again, I should also respond to some of those emails I've neglected for too long.
Tomorrow I will post something of substance. I'll just prompt you with this. It will easily be the most delicious post I've ever written.


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Plant-Strong Weekly Meal Prep
Vegan | Whole-Food Plant-Based | NutritarianPrivate Food as medicine group cooking group classes (3-4 people)
Are you passionate about plant-based eating and using food-as-medicine, or new to it and still learning? Want to share this exciting information with your loved ones? Imagine having a chance to get together and inspire your friends/family and share a transformational experience where you learn plant-based health and nutritional information and cooking techniques. Everyone has fun in the kitchen meanwhile enjoying delicious, fresh, health-giving foods! Veg-Appeal is offering just that experience to be held in the comfort of your own home, or in a centralized location.
You and your guests learn to cook hands-on (or demo style) in a relaxed, familiar environment. You choose the date and time, along with the menu that your group would most enjoy. Everyone learns and comes away from the experience enlightened about a new, healthier way of eating and preparing food. This description is geared for groups from 3-4 people. Is your group 5 or over people? Sounds like a party! Check out our cooking parties page for details.
More Details
If you can't find all of your answers here, please check our general Cooking Lessons Page for lots of details (with a handy link back to this page!)
Length of party
Group cooking classes are scheduled for 2½ hours.
|2 People
|3 People
|4 People
|Pricing Groceries not included – but the instructor can bring some specialized ingredients, if needed, and can do the shopping for a nominal shopping and grocery fee.
|$200 Add to Cart
|$250 Add to Cart
|$300 Add to Cart


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Unique Produce is an independent online design boutique selling ranges from unique and experimental designers across the world. There is small limited number of each product, so it's the perfect place to get something fashionable and different that no-one else has. It's a great place to discover worldwide designers' work that you wouldn't normally stumble across.
Unique Produce is the brainchild of Sara Simeone; whose aim it is to link high quality producers with UK customers who want to buy genuine, traditionally made and unique products.
One of our Event Reporters Rachel Mullins attended their recent exclusive private showcase in London to bring you an insight into some of the products on offer. She was impressed by the quality of the produce, and by the knowledge of, and interest in, the various ever-changing producers whose work they stock.
The range of jewellery that Unique Produce stocks is now on her wish list! Swiss designer Contessa Rosafosca creates a range of pieces made from genuine Murano glass. Her designs are slick and modern, and average £150 in price.
British designer Daniel Gallie uses a combination of silver and gold with precious stones to create sculpted shapes. Prices for his necklaces range from £140 to £355.
Italian designer Laura Volpi creates stunning pieces of jewellery made from sections of paintings on plexiglass. Each item is unique in its images and pattern, so they really are one-of-a-kind pieces. Our favourite here at Twinkle HQ is her Red Vertical Bracelet priced at just £55.
German design company Boudouboudou designs a cute range of jigsaw puzzle rings for the absolute bargain price of £2. These quirky rings will definitely get you noticed.
The designers are constantly changing, so if you like something you had better get in there quick as sometimes only a few of each item is available!
Photographs by Unique Produce & Rachel Mullins (2012)


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Thames Gateway closed after multi-car collision in Rainham
PUBLISHED: 15:35 28 February 2014 | UPDATED: 16:37 28 February 2014
The Thames Gateway is currently closed following a collision between several cars which injured four people.
Four fire crews from Wennington attended the scene at about 2.15pm to find the vehicles badly damaged.
Two men and two women were injured and all were taken to east London hospitals with one of the women, a 38-year-old, taken as priority, suffering from neck and knee pains.
The accident caused the road to become gridlocked and eastbound traffic is now being routed around the junction on the A13 in Rainham at the Ferry Lane Interchange. Diversions are in operation via slip roads and congestion currently stretches to the Goresbrook Interchange.


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Well, I suppose you have a point if you want to cite only the information that helps your argument. Did you know that the UConn third-string quarterback completed 21 of 31 attempts and threw for 275 yards against our pass defense? I don't know what was observable on television but I was at the game and from my perspective we didn't exactly blanket their receivers. Quibble with the semantics if you wish, but we are in big trouble if something doesn't change before we play against the much more talented quarterbacks who lie ahead on the schedule.According to the box score I checked, the UConn QB had 2 INTs, -21 yes rushing, no TDs and a QB rating of 36. Picked us apart is a big exaggeration.
Likes: Orange Roughy


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Episode 79 – The One For Thanksgiving
Podcast: Play in new window | Download
Subscribe: Apple Podcasts | Android | RSS
Stuff my turkey to the brim, we've a lot to be thankful for! Paul's thankful for how many games he's played this past week, while Kris is thankful for the ability to live vicariously through Paul. Plus — Pokemon cruelty, and just giving up on Half Life 3!


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Archive: Page 1
Studio offers hot yoga classes
By Carol G. Stratton CHARLOTTE – Mountain Island Hot Yoga opened its door in February with the goal of making yoga less intimidating. The studio, located inside of Mt. Island… Read more
PE teacher prepares to pursue Army Ranger dreams
By Chris Tittel DAVIDSON – Some people wear their hearts on their sleeves. Josh Wagner wears his on his arm. Literally. Wagner and his family, who live in Huntersville, sit… Read more
Family pizzeria finds place in community
By Molly Reitter MOUNT HOLLY – Papa Sammy, also known as Sammy Gonzalez, had been making pizza at home for his grandchildren for many years. His wife, Ilse Gonzalez, was… Read more
About 200 volunteers showed up at two locations on Mountain Island Lake on Saturday, Oct. 2, to help take out the trash for the 2010 North Carolina Big Sweep Event…. Read more
East Gaston crowns its queen
Students compete for Miss East Gaston High title East Gaston High School awarded the title of Miss East Gaston High to student Kaylan Puckett during the March 3 pageant held… Read more
Young area designer breaks into fashion industry
by Tori Hamby CHARLOTTE – Eighteen-year-old Lisa Huang wants to grow up to be a doctor, but not the kind with a stethoscope and lab coat. Huang, a recent West… Read more
Officer trades gunfire with suspect
by Tori Hamby A gunfire exchange between a police officer and a home invasion suspect in a Mountain Island neighborhood ended after the officer shot the suspect twice. Christopher Michael… Read more
Newspapers appoint top editor
Glenn Proctor, a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist and award-winning news media manager, has been appointed executive editor of Lake Norman Publications effective Monday, July 23. In his new role, Proctor… Read more
Mount Holly Olympian remembers 1972 Games
By Kathy Blake MOUNT HOLLY – Bert Freeman has a box of yellowed Polaroids from his athletic days. He has a replica of the belt buckle with the Olympic rings – a gift from… Read more
Titans football gains momentum
HUNTERSVILLE – The Hopewell Titans got their 2012 season off to a rocky start by losing four of their first five games. After a 45-24 win on Sept. 28 over Lake… Read more
Find a mix of past and present at Brightstar Drive-In Grill
Walking in the door is like exhaling. The green and white checkered floor, the roomy booths and the paper plates holding huge amounts of comfort food make it feel like… Read more
Health: When should you get a mammogram?
by Cliff Mehrtens A key to first-time mammograms is having it done at the right age. Guidelines published by the American Cancer Society recommend women have their first mammogram – an… Read more
Long Creek woman designs piece for quilt trail
by Courtney Price Marsha McElroy, of the Long Creek area, recently had one of her quilt designs transformed into a pattern for the McDowell Quilt Trail. Mike and Jill Lucas,… Read more
Guide showcases region's 32 best trails
Joshua Kinser has written "Five-Star Trails: Charlotte," a pocket-sized guide packed with hiking recommendations for 32 of the region's best trails. The guide includes maps, directions, GPS coordinates, elevation profiles… Read more
SPLAT! cakes looks to make splash with coffee
MOUNT HOLLY – There's something to be said for opening a coffee shop in an area that's never had a successful coffee shop. For Monica Nunn, it's an opportunity, not… Read more
Homemade fare a City Café specialty
by Molly Reitter MOUNT HOLLY – City Café is positively cavernous. The quaint outside belies the cathedral ceilings with exposed wooden beams across the expanse of the restaurant. Lights hang… Read more
Runner dedicated to making life better for homeless
by Kathy Blake CHARLOTTE – The idea was conceived at a "Lunch and Learn" meeting at downtown Charlotte's Urban Ministry Center in 2008. Meredith Dolhare, a local runner and accomplished… Read more
Titans fall short of first-round playoff glory
by Aaron Burns HUNTERSVILLE – Close games were the difference for Hopewell High's football team in the 2012 season. The Titans had tight games against East Lincoln, Ardrey Kell, Mooresville, Vance,… Read more
Paranormal team delves into the unexplained
by Lauren Odomirok CHARLOTTE – Tim Bordner's close encounters with the otherworldly were well underway by the time he was 18 years old. "When I'd just graduated high school, before… Read more
Black's Bluewater: Where seafood meets the country
by Molly Reitter The restaurant is one part down home country kitchen with sea green linoleum floors and blue checkered tablecloths and one part kitschy seafood joint with huge lobster… Read more
February events calendar
Feb. 16-17: WAR REENACTMENT Feb. 6 • MARINE COMMISSION: The Mountain Island Lake Marine Commission holds public meetings monthly to discuss issues related to the lake, usually on the first… Read more
Firebirds: Upscale chain shines with small touches
by Molly Reitter email@example.com CHARLOTTE – Executive Chef Steve Sturm holds a beef tenderloin in his gloved hands. It is oblong and cherry red in color. Sturm is explaining how… Read more
Area teams hope youth serves them well
by Aaron Burns email@example.com HUNTERSVILLE – One word was all Hopewell High baseball coach Chet Greeson needed to describe the key element to his team's 2013 season. "Consistency," he said. It's… Read more
Duke Energy looks to demolish Riverbend Steam Station
MOUNT HOLLY – Duke Energy will begin demolishing parts of the Riverbend Steam Station this fall as part of the company's fleet modernization efforts. The company retired the four coal-fired… Read more
Old Stone: A succulent steakhouse in Belmont
By Molly Reitter firstname.lastname@example.com BELMONT – Matt Matinata was supposed to be a lawyer. He had only been practicing law for a year and a half when his father passed… Read more
CoulOak Storm plays in Cooperstown
CHARLOTTE – The 12U CoulOak Storm got to live out their dreams by playing in Cooperstown, N.Y. The team of 11 players, along with coaches Jeff Bright, Greg Cox, Eric… Read more
Youth get first lake experience
By Carrie C. Causey email@example.com MOUNTAIN ISLAND – A Lake Norman tradition expanded to include Mountain Island Lake so youth have more opportunities to enjoy boating and swimming. Big Day… Read more
Jeter: Coal ash, teacher pay laws only the start
By Carrie C. Causey MOUNTAIN ISLAND – N.C. Rep. Charles Jeter said he is cognizant that the coal ash and teacher pay bills passed during the state's legislative short session… Read more
Principal wants to bridge academic gaps
By Sarah Obeid CHARLOTTE – Danielle Belton, an educational leader focused on improving academic success, is the new principal at Paw Creek Elementary School. "I am very excited to be… Read more
Fans create a throwback ice cream parlor
CHARLOTTE – X-tra Ball is tucked away in the Bi-Lo shopping center with an immaculate storefront. It's a throwback to the old-school ice cream parlor with contemporary twists. The 1980s… Read more
Belmont recognized for Main Street
BELMONT – Main Street has been recognized as a "Great Main Street" in the 2015 Great Places in North Carolina awards program, sponsored by the North Carolina Chapter of the… Read more
Area schools offering Cambridge program
By Chris Tittel HUNTERSVILLE – Charlotte-Mecklenburg Schools and Cambridge International Examinations are teaming up to offer students in the North Learning Community the opportunity to take their education to a… Read more
How restaurants fared in health inspections
Health departments in Mecklenburg and Gaston counties inspected the following restaurants in April: Belmont • Beijing to Go, 1420 Wilkinson Blvd. – 90 • Bojangles', 6450 W. Wilkinson Blvd. –… Read more
Drivers, let's act responsibly on the road
By Stephen V. Gilmore It never stops. What, you ask? The impatience of drivers, and the risk they pose to others and themselves. Case in point: This past Friday, May… Read more
Hospital monument honors veterans
MOUNT HOLLY – CaroMont Health recently dedicated a new veterans monument on the campus of CaraMont Regional Medical Center. An initiative of CaroMont Health and the CaroMont Health Veterans Council,… Read more
Cruise benefits Big Day of the Lake
CORNELIUS – A three-hour cruise aboard the Yachta Yachta Yachta with music, open bar and food from five restaurants will benefit Big Day at the Lake. Big Day at the… Read more
Festival benefits Dove House
CHARLOTTE – Omni Wellness Center will host a family festival with free children's zone, discount vendor shopping and free lunch. The event takes place 10 a.m.-2 p.m. June 20 at… Read more
House painter wins $3M in lottery
RALEIGH – James Anthony Jr., a house painter from Cramerton, plans to use the $3 million prize he won playing the $120 Million Cash game to get a captain's license… Read more