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March 02, 1998
JAMES DALE, PLAINTIFF-APPELLANT,v.BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA AND MONMOUTH COUNCIL BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA, DEFENDANTS-RESPONDENTS.
Argued December 8, 1997
On appeal from Superior Court of New Jersey, Law Division, Monmouth County.
Before Judges Havey, Landau and Newman.
The opinion of the court was delivered by: The opinion of the court was delivered by Havey, P.j.a.d.
Plaintiff James Dale was expelled from his position as an Assistant Scoutmaster with defendant Monmouth Council, Boy Scouts of America when he publicly declared he was a homosexual. He was expelled by the Boy Scouts of America (BSA) because of its policy excluding avowed homosexuals from membership in its organization. We conclude that: (1) the BSA is a place of public accommodation under New Jersey's Law Against Discrimination (LAD), N.J.S.A. 10:5-1 to -42; (2) the BSA's expulsion of plaintiff from his position with the BSA violated the LAD by depriving him of a public accommodation; and (3) the LAD's prohibition of the BSA's policy of excluding gay members does not infringe upon defendants' freedom of expressive association. Accordingly, except to affirm the dismissal of plaintiff's common law claim, we reverse and remand for further proceedings.
The BSA charters local groups to maintain units including Cub Scout Packs (boys under eleven), Boy Scout Troops (boys eleven to eighteen), and Explorer Posts (young men and women fourteen through twenty). The troops are sponsored by religious, civic, fraternal or educational organizations, and other groups whose goals are compatible with those of the BSA.
As of December 1992, the BSA reported 3,453,315 youth members and 1,172,485 adults registered in 123,045 traditional Scout units. The national organization is headed by a National Council and divided into regional administrative units and subdivided into local councils. Monmouth Council has jurisdiction over the geographical area in which plaintiff served. There are approximately 400 local councils. Monmouth Council was incorporated in 1924. In 1991, Monmouth Council had 9,446 youth members and 2,781 adults registered in 215 units.
The BSA was chartered by an Act of Congress in 1915, with its stated purpose:
to promote, through organization, and cooperation with other agencies, the ability of boys to do things for themselves and others, to train them in Scoutcraft, and to teach them patriotism, courage, self-reliance, and kindred virtues, using the methods which are now in common use by Boy Scouts.
The BSA's bylaws provide: "In achieving this purpose, emphasis shall be placed upon its educational program and the oaths, promises, and codes of the Scouting program for character development, citizenship training, mental and physical fitness." The BSA Mission Statement provides:
It is the mission of the Boy Scouts of America to serve others by helping to instill values in young people and, in other ways, to prepare them to make ethical choices over their lifetime in achieving their full potential.
The values we strive to instill are based on those found in the Scout Oath and Law:
On my honor I will do my best To do my duty to God and my country and to obey the Scout Law;
To help other people at all times;
To keep myself physically strong, mentally awake, and morally straight.
A Scout is:
Trustworthy Loyal Helpful Friendly Courteous Kind
Obedient Cheerful Thrifty Brave Clean Reverent
According to the 1990 Boy Scout Handbook, understanding and agreeing to live by the Scout Oath and the Scout Law are among the joining requirements. According to the Declaration of Religious Principle in the BSA by laws, although scouting is nonsectarian, all members must recognize an obligation to God.
The Scout Law, set forth in the 1911 Official Handbook for Boys, has remained fundamental and unchanged. The 1936 Handbook for Scoutmasters described the Scout Law as "the foundation upon which the whole Scout Movement rests." It explained:
The genius of Scouting is most evident in the Law of the Movement. It was based upon the codes of old, transformed into a positive, living ideal for the modern boy, devised as a guide to his actions rather than as repressive of his faults. That is what makes the Scout Law outstanding.
The Scout Law neither commands nor prohibits, but positively states these desired qualities.
Plaintiff became a Cub Scout at the age of eight and remained an extremely active and successful youth member of the BSA, achieving the rank of Eagle Scout. In March 1989, seven months after his eighteenth birthday on August 2, 1988, he applied for adult membership and was approved. He then served as an Assistant Scoutmaster for Troop 73 in Matawan, during periods when he was not away at college.
Plaintiff has been a devoted and exemplary Boy Scout. He earned thirty merit badges, advanced to the highest rank, and held numerous trooper leadership positions, including Junior Assistant Scoutmaster. In addition, he was active in the Order of the Arrow, an affiliated honor camping association. In the Order of the Arrow, he was chosen for the highest possible honor, Vigil, and also held numerous offices. Plaintiff was also selected as a delegate to the 1985 National Boy Scout Jamboree, and was chosen to speak at Monmouth Council functions on more than one occasion.
On August 5, 1990, plaintiff, twenty years old at the time, received a letter dated July 19, 1990, from James W. Kay, Council Executive of Monmouth Council, informing him that his registration was revoked. Registration is a prerequisite for service as a volunteer adult leader. The letter said in part:
After careful review, we have decided that your registration with the Boy Scouts of America should be revoked. We are therefore compelled to request that you sever any relations that you may have with the Boy Scouts of America.
You should understand that BSA membership registration is a privilege and is not automatically granted to everyone who applies. We reserve the right to refuse registration whenever there is a concern that an individual may not meet the high standards of membership which the BSA seeks to provide for American youth.
Plaintiff answered by letter dated August 8, 1990, asking the grounds of the decision. In a letter dated August 10, 1990, Kay responded: "The grounds for this membership revocation are the standards for leadership established by the Boy Scouts of America, which specifically forbid membership to homosexuals." Kay explained later in a deposition that he became aware that plaintiff was an affirmed homosexual through a newspaper article. The article, published on July 8, 1990, in the Newark Star Ledger, was entitled, "Seminar addresses needs of homosexual teens." It pictured plaintiff, a Rutgers student; identified him as co-president of the Rutgers University Lesbian/Gay Alliance; and quoted him as saying that he had pretended to be straight while in high school, "only admitting his homosexuality during his second year at Rutgers." According to Kay, plaintiff demonstrated his failure to live by the Scout Oath and Law by publicly avowing that he was a homosexual.
By letter dated November 27, 1990, Charles D. Ball, Assistant Regional Director, Northeast Region, BSA, informed plaintiff that the Northeast Region Review Committee supported the decision of Monmouth Council. After further correspondence, a December 21, 1990, letter from the BSA's legal counsel David K. Park to plaintiff's counsel explained: "As your client is apparently an avowed homosexual and the Boy Scouts of America does not admit avowed homosexuals to membership in the organization, no useful purpose would apparently be served by having Mr. Dale present at the regional review meeting."
According to plaintiff, he was "devastated" by the instruction to sever relations with scouting, which he interpreted to mean that he was not only removed from his position as Assistant Scoutmaster, but also stripped of all his scouting honors, including his Eagle Scout status. However, according to Kay, plaintiff was not stripped of any awards he had earned as a youth, including his attainment of Eagle Scout rank, and his membership revocation was kept confidential.
According to the BSA Rules and Regulations, to serve in an adult leadership position, an individual must be recommended by the scout executive, approved by the council executive board, and be at least twenty-one (eighteen for assistant leaders). All leaders must be commissioned annually. The BSA bylaws provide: "No person shall be approved as a leader unless, in the judgment of the Corporation, that person possesses the moral, educational, and emotional qualities deemed necessary for leadership and satisfies such other leadership qualifications as it may from time to time require." The 1990 Troop Committee Guidebook lists "igh moral standards" and "ommitment to the ideals of Scouting" as the top two characteristics sought in a Scoutmaster. It also suggests that the same standards used to choose a Scoutmaster should be used to qualify Assistant Scoutmasters (eighteen and up).
The 1972 Scoutmaster's Handbook emphasized the leaders' duty as role models, and advised:
You are providing a good example of what a man should be like. What you do and what you are may be worth a thousand lectures and sermons.
What you are speaks louder than what you say. This ranges from simple things like wearing a uniform to the matter of your behavior as an individual. Boys need a model to copy and you might be the only good example they know.
According to Parvin L. Bishop, National Director of Program of the BSA, the requirements that a scout be "morally straight" and "clean" are inconsistent with homosexuality, and therefore known or avowed homosexuals or those who advocate to scouting youth that homosexual conduct is morally straight or clean, will not be registered as adult leaders. The BSA literature does not detail prohibited sexual conduct, but the 1990 Boy Scout Handbook includes a section on "Sexual Responsibility," which summarizes responsibilities to women, to children, to the scout's beliefs, and to himself. It says in part:
For the followers of most religions, sex should take place only between married couples.
An understanding of wholesome sexual behavior can bring you lifelong happiness.
You owe it to yourself to enrich your life by learning what is right.
In a policy statement dated March 17, 1978, addressed to Executive Committee Members, the National Council asserted that an individual who openly declares himself to be a homosexual would not be selected to be a volunteer scout leader, be registered as a unit member, or be employed as a professional or nonprofessional. This was the earliest express statement concerning homosexual members that defendants produced. Later Position Statements affirmed that stance.
In a Position Statement dated January 1993, several years after the revocation of plaintiff's membership, the BSA stated in part:
The Boy Scouts of America does not ask prospective members about their sexual preference, nor do we check on the sexual orientation of boys who are already Scouts.
The reality is that Scouting serves children who have no knowledge of, or interest in, sexual preference. We allow youth to live as children and enjoy Scouting and its diversity without immersing them in the politics of the day.
Membership in Scouting is open to all youth who meet basic requirements for membership and who agree to live by the applicable oath and law.
It summarized the BSA position:
The Boy Scouts of America has always reflected the expectations that Scouting families have had for the organization.
We do not believe that homosexuals provide a role model consistent with these expectations.
Accordingly, we do not allow for the registration of avowed homosexuals as members or as leaders of the BSA.
Plaintiff filed a six-count complaint in the Superior Court, Chancery Division, alleging that defendants' revocation of his membership and his expulsion as an Assistant Scoutmaster violated the LAD, as well as certain common law rights. In the complaint he seeks both reinstatement and damages. Plaintiff filed a notice of motion for partial summary judgment seeking a declaration that he had been deprived of an accommodation in violation of the LAD. He also demanded an immediate reinstatement to his position as Assistant Scoutmaster. Defendants filed a cross-motion for summary judgment on all counts.
In granting summary judgment to defendants, the trial Judge determined that the parties had stipulated that plaintiff was "a sexually active homosexual." The Judge found that the BSA had consistently excluded from youth and adult membership any self-declared homosexual and that the BSA considered homosexual conduct neither "morally straight" under the Scout Oath nor "clean" under the Scout Law. The Judge relied on the entrenched biblical and historical view of homosexuality as not only morally wrong, but criminal, as a basis for the presumption that, from its inception, the BSA implicitly subscribed to that historical view as well.
The Judge concluded that plaintiff had no cause of action under the LAD because the BSA was not a "place of public accommodation" as defined by the Act. The Judge also agreed with defendants that they qualified for the LAD exclusion in N.J.S.A. 10:5-5(l) for any "institution . . . which is in its nature distinctly private[.]" Finally, the Judge concluded that defendants' "First Amendment freedom of expressive association rights prevent government from forcing them to accept as an adult leader-member" in view of defendants' historical belief that homosexual conduct was morally wrong, and "he presence of a publicly avowed active homosexual as an adult leader of boy scouts is absolutely antithetical to the purpose of Scouting."
The parties agree that the there are no genuine issues of material fact. Accordingly, the issues raised by this appeal may be resolved as a matter of law.
Plaintiff contends that the BSA is a place of public accommodation under the LAD, prohibited from discriminating on the basis of affectional or sexual orientation. Plaintiff argues that his expulsion from the Boy Scouts and his position as an Assistant Scoutmaster violated the LAD by depriving him of the ...
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HAVANA (Reuters) - Colombia's Marxist-led FARC guerrillas warned on Tuesday that escalating violence could damage peace talks in Cuba, where the government and insurgents are seeking a negotiated end to half a century of civil war.
"It's time to stop the war in order not to harm the peace process and avoid useless casualties," rebel leader Ivan Marquez said in Havana.
"We ask President (Juan Manuel) Santos to once again consider the possibility of stopping the war with a cessation of hostilities," he said.
Latin America's longest-running guerrilla war has killed some 220,000 people and displaced millions more. After a partial respite earlier this year, combat has raged anew.
In March, Santos agreed to halt aerial bombing in recognition of a unilateral cease-fire called by the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC) at Christmastime. But he ordered new air assaults in response to a rebel attack that killed 10 soldiers in April.
Since then both sides have carried out attacks, with the FARC formally renewing offensive operations and sabotaging roads, pipelines and utilities.
On Monday, four soldiers were killed in northeastern Colombia when a helicopter dropping off troops was destroyed by explosives detonated remotely by the FARC, the army said.
Since starting talks in November 2012, government and rebel negotiators have reached partial accords on three of five agenda points: land reform, the political future of the FARC and an end to the illegal drugs trade. Still under discussion are victim reparations and the FARC's demobilization.
Should the two sides reach a comprehensive agreement, it would be submitted to voters for ratification.
Reporting by Nelson Acosta; Editing by Daniel Trotta and Tom Brown


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- October 2, 1930 - June 11, 2017
- Berryville, Arkansas
of Jonnie's Passing
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Jonnie was born on October 2, 1930 and passed away on Sunday, June 11, 2017.
Jonnie was a resident of Berryville, Arkansas at the time of passing.
Visitation will be 10:00 a.m. until 11:00 a.m., Thursday, June 15, 2017 at Freeman Heights Baptist Church in Berryville with funeral service following at 11:00 a.m. Interment will follow the service in the Berryville Memorial Park Cemetery under the direction of Nelson Funeral Service. � Nelson Funeral Service, Inc. 2017 15 Jun 10:00 AM - 11:00 AM Freeman Heights Baptist Church 522 West Freeman Berryville, Arkansas 72616 15 Jun 11:00 AM Freeman Heights Baptist Church 522 West Freeman Berryville, Arkansas 72616 Berryville Memorial Park Cemetery Bunch Springs Road Berryville, Arkansas 72616 Circle of Life Hospice 901 Jones Road Springdale, AR 72762 479-750-6632 Freeman Heights Baptist Church Vision Building Fund 522 West Freeman Berryville, AR 72616 Share Jonnie Ruth Lindt's life celebration memory of Jonnie Nelson's Chapel of the Springs 150 West Van Buren Eureka Springs, AR 72632 Phone: 870-423-2170 Nelson's Green Forest Chapel 102 Cherry Street Green Forest, AR 72638 Phone: 870-423-21.
Memorial donations may be made to Freeman Heights Baptist Church Vision Building Fund, 522 West Freeman, Berryville, Arkansas 72616 or Circle of Life Hospice, 901 Jones Road, Springdale, Arkansas 72762.


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In his book, Practicing Greatness, 7 Disciplines of Extraordinary Spiritual Leaders, Reggie McNeal writes of the "disciplines" which a spiritual leader should have in his life. Buy the book!
1. The Discipline of Self-Awareness
2. The Discipline of Self-Management
3. The Discipline of Self-Development
4. The Discipline of Mission
5. The Discipline of Decision Making
6. The Discipline of Belonging
7. The Discipline of Aloneness
Some quotes worth reflecting on....
"The greatness he is talking about is not a position or a destination, but a quality of leadership that blesses other people." -- Ken Blanchard
"Deliberate mediocrity is a sin."
"Greatness is not just about character. It's also about effectiveness. When Jesus talked about serving others as part of his definition of greatness, he assumed that the service would actually be helpful to its recipients and the leaders would be accomplished."
"Genuinely great spiritual leaders do not do what they do for themselves or even as a way to become recognized as great leaders. The end game for spiritual leaders is about expanding the kingdom of God."
"Although many leaders may come to recognize that alcohol or drug abuse is a problem, legions of others are unaware they are using food or work to anesthetize their heart pain brought on through loneliness or their inability to experience intimacy though surrounded by admirers. Other leaders have no idea that their need for approval drives them to physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual exhaustion. They are just dying (literally) to hear, 'We don't know what we'd do without you.'"
"Bless your children. Leaders with children have one primary responsibility toward them beyond the inherent tasks of protection and provision: children need our blessing."
"Nuclear physicists now say that inner space is as infinite as outer space... In quantum spirituality, post-moderns (pre-Christians) assume they are connected to God and to other people. This poses an intriguing dilemma to spiritual tribes whose evangelism strategy begins with the declaration to people that they are separated from God!"
"Your best shot at making your greatest contribution in the world is for you to get better at what you are already good at. Instead of focusing on weakness, focus on improving your strengths. Remember, your strengths are also your needs, meaning that you need to develop and use your talent in order to experience deep satisfaction at an emotional and spiritual level."
"God has not called you to your life mission in spite of who you are; he has called you precisely because of who you are."
I could go and on!! I have most of this book underlined. I recommend this to anyone in a spiritual leadership role, whether employed or volunteer.


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The current government introduced a new regulation a few years ago: Home Information Packs (HIPs). Those selling their houses must have one produced. It consists of all sorts of information about property including copies of evidence of title, sustainability and energy use information and searches for things like drainage. It must be provided by estate agents to any potential buyer on request.
On the 20th January, 2009, Tory whip Angela Watkinson asked Margaret Beckett, the Housing minister, about Home Information Packs. There are a few bits of logic that need to be nitpicked!
Angela Watkinson opened:
[Will Margaret Beckett] use her powers under the Housing Act 2004 to suspend the requirement for sellers to provide home information packs[?]
Beckett responds:
We have no plans to suspend home information packs.
Okay, that is straight forward enough. Watkinson continues:
Surely the Minister has realised by now that home information packs were a bad idea from the outset. Even when the housing market was buoyant, neither sellers nor buyers had the slightest interest in them. Now that the housing market is so stagnant that estate agents are going out of business, the Minister could take this opportunity to abolish the utterly superfluous home information packs without loss of face. Will she do that?
A fair point. Beckett attempts to defend HIPs:
First, let me say to the hon. Lady that the intention—and, indeed, the effect—of home information packs is to provide much needed information for consumers on the most important purchase of their lives. She talks as though home information packs have had no impact and no benefit, but 1.2 million such packs have been issued. They are the most simple way of getting information for that most important purchase. She may feel that it is not important to protect consumers; consumer representatives do not [agree with her], and nor do the Government.
(Emphasis mine.)
The bolded statement doesn't actually justify HIPs. Simply pointing out that 1.2 million HIPs have been issued does not mean that HIPs are effective or worthwhile or ought not to be abolished. Wikipedia informs me that the Backstreet Boys have sold over 130 million records worldwide, but that doesn't mean they are any good. In the case of HIPs, since it is a mandatory requirement that all people selling residential property have a HIP produced, that doesn't really justify them either.
To be fair, Beckett did say that 1.2 million packs have been issued not produced, but that doesn't mean much. It is fairly likely that during the period in which HIPs have been required, every person who makes a serious offer on residential property will have been given the HIP for the property – it may just be a routine part of sale rather than something they explicitly requested.
If Beckett wants to justify HIPs, appealing to the number of HIPs is no way to do so. How could she justify it? I can think of two simple ways: firstly, by showing that HIPs contain information that was not previously accessible to home buyers and that is of some importance in protecting buyers. Secondly, she could perform a study on home buyers and ask them whether the HIPs have been useful.
Beckett's last sentence is, of course, a failure of the principle of charity. But this is politics, right? That is pretty much the modus operandi of partisan politics.
Let's continue.
Beckett is later questioned by Anne Main, Conservative MP for St. Albans:
I pressed the Minister on this issue when she appeared before the Communities and Local Government Committee on 27 October. At that time, she estimated that £5 million had been spent on marketing the packs, to provide a benefit of only £30 per pack. I said that I was concerned that the packs were becoming outdated in a slack market, to which she said:
"Of course that is an issue that we are looking at with the relevant authorities".
She accepted that it would be a problem in a slack market. What exactly has she done since then to ensure that the arrangements are not affected by the slack market?
Did Beckett accept Anne Main's concerns? The quoted statement doesn't really seem to suggest that it does. Saying "that is an issue" doesn't mean that it is a problem. The sense of the quoted statement seems to suggest that the concern Main raised wasn't misplaced. Beckett seems like she might have given an inch, Main then took a mile – or at least a few more inches than Beckett gave to the committee.
Grant Shapps, Shadow Housing Minister, asked this of the Minister:
I am not convinced that the Minister really believes that home information packs are the right way forward. If they are so beneficial to the housing market, why was the former grace and favour residence of Mr. Blunkett—Government house in Pimlico—placed on the market by the Minister without a fully completed home information pack?
Slightly amusing but irrelevant. Said problem can be explained away as administrative cockup. This is a bit like saying that government anti-smoking campaigns don't work because you can find an MP on the Government benches who smokes cigarettes occasionally.
I apologise for the terrible pun in the headline. I blame it on the BBC News story Hips extended to three-bed homes.
In a debate in the Commons on the 19th January, 2009, on local news media, the Secretary of State for the Department for Culture, Media & Sport, Andy Burnham said this:
Only a few years ago the press accounted for 54 per cent. of the advertising spend in this country, but the figure is now down to 43 per cent., so there are real structural changes taking place.
Grant Burnham the stated fact – a cursory search of press reports don't contradict it – does Burnham's stated conclusion follow from it? I don't think it necessarily does. We have one particular facet of data: that some years before 2009, the press was 54% of advertising spend in Britain, and now it is only 43% – an 11% drop in "a few years".
First of all, it may be the case that such things are cyclical. I'm not saying it is, but it doesn't directly follow from the change that it is permanent. As the global warming sceptics are always so keen to point out, just showing that something changes isn't enough to show that it is will continue to do so. If say, due to a dramatic global recession, advertising spending were to slump dramatically across all sectors in a consistent but non-uniform way, then such a figure can be explained as basically a statistical anomaly of said recession.
Secondly, it may be the case that how you define the sectors determines the result you get. What exactly is 'the press'. We can point to particular examples of 'the press': a newspaper like the Daily Telegraph or The Observer is obviously 'press'. News magazines like The Economist count too. What about lifestyle or general interest magazines? I mean, Hello! or Grazia isn't exactly serving the same social role as the newspapers, but we are talking about advertising revenues here rather than social function. Take it as read that the press includes all newspapers and magazines. Presumably, the structural change we are talking about is a shift from money being spent on advertising in those publications to, say, money being spent on Internet advertising. Does that mean that there is a structural change taking place moving money away from 'the press'? Depends on whether the Internet sites that are coming up count. If Grazia counts as press, then so does TMZ.com. A case can be made for local bloggers being 'the press' in the same way that local newspapers are.
Governments are a dab hand at this: changing how you measure something can dramatically change the result. I'm not saying that in this particular case that has happened, but it does illustrate the possibility.
For Burnham to establish the conclusion he is attempting to establish, he would need to show that this was part of a longer trend and to show that the statistics support the conclusion he is deriving from them. I don't believe that they don't, but he has not made the case in this speech.
The Video Recordings Act has had a strange life. It was passed to respond to what many sociologists describe as a moral panic over so-called 'video nasties'. But due to an administrative cock-up, in 2009 the law was invalidated on a technicality – apparently, Margaret Thatcher's government neglected to formally notify the relevant European government body that the law had been passed. And so it wasn't actually a law, and for a few months at the end of 2009 people could basically sell as many dodgy DVDs as they like without the cops being able to do anything. In 2010, they reintroduced the law. It passed through Parliament without controversy – it was only re-enabling a law that the country had grown used to for the last 25 years!
During the debate, though, Lib Dem MP Don Foster made this statement in support of passage of the Bill:
In Cheltenham, for example, law enforcement officers cannot pursue a newsagent selling R18 and unrated porn DVDs that are displayed above an ice cream display cabinet.
Is it true? Who knows. Let us say it is, although one has to be careful with anecdotes (as they say in science, the plural of anecdote is not data). It is a blatant appeal to emotion. Let us grant that the police not being able to do anything about a newsagent displaying for sale some real dodgy videos is bad. The fact that the newsagent is showing the videos above an ice cream display cabinet isn't doubleplusbad. Said newsagent must display the videos somewhere in the shop. With few exceptions, putting something bad anywhere in a newsagent's shop in Cheltenham means it will be within "gasp!"-inducing proximity to something. Would it be worse if he'd displayed the videos next to the magazines? What about the kiddies coming in to buy The Beano? Perhaps the shop owner should have put the videos next to the sandwiches? But, then, what about the kiddies coming in to get a nice hummus sandwich to go in their lunchbox? Next to the greetings cards? Then some poor and innocent child will be confronted by Extreme Lesbian Squirting 7 on his way to buy a Get Well card for his dear grandma.
This irrelevant detail is a distraction. The law states that R18 videos are only supposed to be sold in licensed sex shops. A cheap rhetorical appeal to emotion can be made if R18 videos are sold anywhere other than such an establishment. Any establishment other than a sex shop would have the same rhetorical effect. But, you know, kids eat ice cream and they might see porno.
One problem: Foster is stating this in January of 2010. News of the accident with the Video Recordings Act was published on the BBC News website on the 25th of August 2009. Two scenarios arise: either the newsagent in question had been displaying the videos before the news of the invalidity of the Act started circulating at the end of August or he started doing so afterwards. If it was afterwards, we could reasonably infer that the newsagent started selling the DVDs as a result of the news about the invalidity of the Act. If the newsagent had been doing so before that, then this example cannot be used to show that the Video Recordings Act is required to prevent him from doing so because it obviously had no effect on the newsagent. If he started selling the DVDs after it became known that the Act was invalid then the emotional appeal of Don Foster's statement is lost: how many children are purchasing ice cream in the autumn and winter? They aren't exactly enjoying the warm summer holidays any more.
Just to nail this point home, check out the historical weather station data from nearby Cambridge: the max temperatures in ºC for September–December 2009 are 20.1, 15.7, 12.0 and 6.0. Now, as a point of comparison, I was in sunny San Francisco last November and it was 17ºC. Ice cream was not on my mind!
Now that the Don Foster's rhetorical peanut of an anecdote has been thoroughly sledge-hammered, I feel that we should move onto two coconut-sized bits of wrong-speak. First, Keith Vaz (Labour, Leicester East) said this:
There has been a huge leap forward since I first took up this issue, along with others, after young Stefan Pakeerah, from Leicester, was stabbed to death in a park in Leicester in circumstances similar to those found in a video game watched by his killer, Warren Leblanc. I know that the judge in that case said that there was no connection, but the mother of the young boy stabbed to death felt very strongly that there was.
Not only did the judge make no connection, neither did the police. And, really, there was no actual causal link. Warren Leblanc did not actually own a copy of Manhunt, the game Vaz is referring to. This isn't a clear identifiable fallacy: it is just an old-fashioned falsity. What Stefan Pakeerah's mother believes about Warren Leblanc's motivations to commit murder are false and irrelevant.
There is one important lesson that Vaz should have learned from the Pakeerah case: however earnestly someone believes something, and however sympathetic someone is (and Giselle Pakeerah is undoubtedly honest, earnest and deserving of sympathy), that doesn't mean they cannot be wrong. There are undoubtedly some NHS patients who believe that their cancer went into remission due to the divine action of angels; the Health Minister would still do well to listen to what the oncologists have to say.
We've had a Lib Dem MP and a Labour MP. I guess to ensure we are fair and balanced (excuse the figure of speech, I do not consciously set out for false balance), we need a Tory to round it out. Thankfully, John Whittingdale (Conservative, Maldon & East Chelmsford) has got us covered:
We will debate the matter at greater length when we come to the measures against piracy through illegal file sharing that the Government are proposing to take in the Digital Economy Bill. It is worth remembering that it is not just protection of copyright that is at stake when we consider file sharing. There is equally the concern that it is being used to circumvent the protections that the House has put in place. In the most extreme cases, as I am sure the Minister will be aware, child pornography is being widely distributed through illegal file sharing. That is another reason why I share with other hon. Members the view that it is important that we get the Digital Economy Bill on to the statute book.
Non sequitur alert! The Digital Economy Bill – now Act – has nothing to do with child pornography. The powers given under the Digital Economy Act are not clear until Ofcom produce the code, but there is nothing in the relevant part of the act (clauses 3–18) about child pornography. The idea that child pornography is being "widely distributed through illegal file sharing" is wrong. What do I mean? Well, imagine if Whittingdale had said "child pornography is being widely distributed through illegal use of the Royal Mail". The fact that you are sharing illegal material using technology x doesn't mean that technology x is illegal. There are undoubtedly people using BitTorrent or some other file sharing technology to trade child pornography. They are also sharing Gentoo Linux ISOs. We have a statement here that borders on a compositional fallacy. Illegality is not some kind of transitive property. You can reconstruct Whittingdale's sentence to make it reasonable: "illegal child pornography is being widely distributed through file sharing". The fact that one uses file sharing to distribute child pornography doesn't make that particular instance of distribution of child pornography especially illegal. Not using a file sharing network is hardly a mitigating factor at trial!
Cutting off Internet access – the harshest punishment given for alleged copyright infringers by clauses 3–18 of the Digital Economy Act – is arguably a disproportionate punishment for copyright infringers. But, even if it applied to child pornographers (which it doesn't), it is far too weak a punishment for those trafficking in child pornography. There is already a much simpler way of dealing with child pornographers: the criminal justice system. Whittingdale's suggestion that child pornography makes it "important" to pass the Digital Economy Bill is a total non sequitur.
Good to see that the simple administrative task of reinstating an Act that was invalidated by an administrative cockup provided these three MPs a chance to wander away from the true path of reasonableness…
This isn't so much a fallacy as an interesting aside from Ed Vaizey (Conservative):
We need to protect children from access to violent video games, films, television shows and books. The issue is not the genre – be it video game, film or video – but the content. That is what we must protect children from.
Does this mean that Vaizey would support an equivalent to the Video Recordings Act which would put restrictions on books that match those on video games, VHS tapes and video DVDs?
As someone with academic training in philosophy, I do find it amusing when our Parliamentarians turn their thoughts to the bigger things in life and start waxing philosophical. It is a pleasant change from 27 pages of partisan sniping on the crime figures or the Budget, but it does allow for rhetorical silliness to run free. Good philosophy is like good politics in requiring sound, valid arguments. Just because we are discussing the meaning of life or whether there is a God doesn't mean that we should lower our tolerance for sloppiness.
How about this from a 2007 Lords debate on the concerns of the non-religious where John Sentamu, the Archbishop of York, had this to say:
Twenty-seven years ago I was chaplain to a young offenders remand centre, Latchmere House. Every inmate was asked to declare his religious affiliation, and four young men were registered as having no religion. One Sunday, all the inmates were offered the chance to go to worship. The four young men with no religion declined the offer, while their fellow inmates on the A wing took up the offer. The prison officer, not wanting the four men to remain locked up in their cells, asked them to clean the toilets on the wing. The following Sunday, our four non-religious young men took up the offer to go to worship. The prison officer was puzzled why they had opted in this week. "Why are you going to chapel?" he asked. The four replied, "Sir, we didn't like the 'No Religion' place of worship". Crudely as they put it, those four young men were saying in their naivety that we are all essentially religious.
And so we observe yet another Parliamentarian failing to apply Occam's Razor! You have four inmates in a young offenders remand centre. They are offered the chance to attend chapel on Sunday. They decline and are asked to clean the toilets instead. The next week they attend chapel. Which of the following conclusions seems more likely?
- While cleaning the toilets, they had some kind of religious awakening and they came to believe that we are all essentially religious and decided to attend chapel in order to explore their budding religiosity.
- They would rather sit in the chapel than cleaning toilets.
I think the latter explains the facts significantly better.
I have an acquaintance who once explained how when he was in the U.S. Army, they operated a similar regime. Those who chose not to participate in religious services were asked to clean the barracks. After a week of this, he was attending all the religious services on base: three or four different Christian services, then a Buddhist service. He is certainly no believer now. As A. J. Ayer said of saying grace at meals (in the context of an Oxford college): "I won't utter falsehoods, but I've no objection to uttering meaningless statements." Slightly rephrased: I won't endorse falsehoods, but I've got no objection to people uttering meaningless statements if the alternative is cleaning lavatories on Sunday morning.
Amusingly, this is in a debate about whether or not there is discrimination against the non-religious. In a more logical universe, surely the Archbishop would realise that using toilet cleaning as a stick to beat people into the chapel with actually is discrimination against the non-religious? If someone in the workplace were to insist that their employees ought to become members of the Church of Scientology and refused to promote anyone who does not attend the Scientology seminars, that would be an awful case of religious discrimination in the workplace. But when it is a choice between the established Church and toilet cleaning in a prison, it is a cute story about the universality of religious faith. No double standards here, dear reader.
The Archbishop continues:
Time does not allow me to speak at length, but let us be clear: dogmatic assumptions also underline non-religious world views—Marxism, Darwinism, Freudianism, capitalism, secularism, humanism and so on. Those are clear dogmatic positions.
There is so much to unpack.
First of all, the debate in the Lords is not about whether or not the non-religious are dogmatic–or even whether they are right in their (lack of) beliefs; it is about whether or not the non-religious are being discriminated against in society.
The Archbishop's statement is at best a red herring. At worst, it could even be a justification: okay, there is discrimination against the non-religious, but it is okay because they are dogmatic Freudian Marxist capitalists. And, yes, being a Marxist capitalist makes as much sense as being a Christian Muslim or a behaviourist Freudian.
To be fair, humanism is often about as dogmatic as the Anglicanism of Rowan Williams, Richard Holloway, Richard Harries or the clergymen so humourously depicted by Monty Python or Rowan Atkinson. The primary criticism of humanism is how bloody wishy-washy it is!
As for Darwinism: really, how dogmatic is the scientific consensus about the origin of biological diversity? I mean, given that we use it to understand the progression of HIV/AIDS, the dangers of agricultural monocultures and to design–rather, evolve–algorithms for use in computer software.
'Secularism' as a word begs the utterer to equivocate! Many religious people use secularism as a scare word to describe their vision of a post-religious dystopia where the Anti-Religion Police imprison anyone who dares to mention the man upstairs. But it is also a political doctrine that says that the state should be supremely neutral on religious matters. This does not "underline non-religious world views". There are plenty of secularists in this latter sense who are religious: the head of the secularist lobby group Americans United for Separation of Church and State is Reverend Barry Lynn. There are also plenty of religious groups who agree with them.
I have to declare an interest on this one: I have expressed support for the work of Tom Watson MP (Labour, West Bromwich East). He voted against the Digital Economy Act which I'm strongly opposed to. I've met him at numerous events and have been involved in briefing him about the Semantic Web and microformats when he was a government minister. But problems with political rhetoric cross all party lines.
Tom Watson MP, then, in a question to the Leader of the House (Harriet Harman) on the 14th January 2010:
The United States Secretary of State Hillary Clinton has asked the Chinese Government to explain themselves after a tech company, Google, revealed that its internal systems had been hacked into with a view to looking at the e-mail accounts of Chinese dissidents. Does my right hon. and learned Friend think that we need a debate on cyber security, so that we can applaud Google's brave corporate decision to end the censorship of its search results and encourage other tech companies, such as Microsoft, Yahoo! and Apple, to follow suit?
A debate where the primary stated goal is to applaud Google and encourage other technology companies to copy Google's decision to pull out of China? Anyone want to put forward an opposing argument and argue that technology companies ought to collaborate with the Chinese censorship regime more? That's really not a debate if we're using the word in its traditional sense. 'Celebration' may indeed be more appropriate! We can have a debate, but Tom Watson's statement makes it seem like the reason we ought to have a debate is to applaud Google's decision in China. Is that a good enough reason to have a debate?
Though slightly jarring, there is nothing egregiously wrong with Tom Watson's statement. There is a possible equivocation at work with the word 'debate'. When someone attempts to make political hay out of having a debate on some issue ("Thanks to my interventions, we had a much-needed debate on [x]!"), that may mean that they are actually having a substantive and meaningful exchange of views, or it might mean that two MPs turn up at quarter-to-midnight for an adjournment debate wherein they make some platitudinous remarks and strongly agree with one another. When politicians use the word 'debate' they may be using it in the same sense one might use it in a sentence like "They had a big debate about the cider tax in the pub last night". Or they might mean there was a session of the House of Commons on that topic. In the former, you kind of need to disagree with one another, while in the latter, you can have a debate where no substantive discussion actually takes place.
Debate as celebration is something one finds peppered throughout Hansard. Here is the opening statement Andrew Selous, the Shadow Work and Pensions Minister, made in a Westminster Hall debate from the 11th March 2009 on Christianity in Public Life:
My main reason for securing the debate is to celebrate and put on record the incredible contribution of the Christian community to the life of our country in every one of the 646 constituencies, particularly the work that it does to serve the poorest, the most vulnerable and those in the greatest need. We do not always recognise that work enough, so the debate gives us an opportunity to celebrate it and to say thank you to the many people who do fantastic work, without which we, as Members of Parliament, know our constituencies would be worse off.
Even the most ardent anti-theist will agree that many Christians and the Church do great work – they may dispute the motivations or point out that they don't necessarily require their faith to do so, but few would really dispute that plenty of religious people "do fantastic work".
So where is the debate? It turns out that a debate does indeed happen about the old chestnut of the status of religion in public life (a particular bug-bear of mine: debating what role something should have in 'public life' or the 'public sphere' conflates a lot of issues by being tremendously vague – people will have different opinions as to how involved the religious community should be in any particular part of the 'public sphere').
But if you actually want a debate on that, why not just have it? There is a valid debate to have on religion and secularism in public institutions (and charity law, employment regulations, the bishops sitting in the Lords and so on), and on cyber-security (and Chinese Internet regulation) – why does the hook for such debates need to be a big hoorah for Google's stance on Chinese censorship or on the general niceness of many Christians? At best this is just that – a hook, a starting point for discussion – but it can be worse. It can end up being a way of framing the debate.
As salesmen and opinion poll writers know, you can get whatever answer you want if you frame the question right: nobody is "pro-abortion", they are pro-choice. But the anti-abortion crowd are "pro-life". The pro-choicers are then, by contrast, anti-life. Supporters of California's Propositon 8 – which banned same-sex marriage – described themselves as "protecting marriage" and the opponents were responding to "hate".
In a deliberative, Parliamentary procedure like ours is supposed to be, could it be done any other way? Is there any way to make sure that Parliamentary debates don't start with fawning congratulations and get to the substance of the issue quicker?
To start the blog, I may as well start with a fallacy from a long time ago as we have plenty of time to catch up with modern fallacious reasoning.
Captain Euan Wallace was MP for Hornsey in 1935 and gave the following answer in his role as the President of the Board of Trade to Mr Thomas Williams:
The fact that we have negotiated 19 successful agreements shows that we have made a very large number of proposals.
It shows no such thing at all. The fact that the government in 1935 negotiated 19 successful trade agreements doesn't mean that they have made a large number of proposals for trade. They may have made as few as nineteen and been exceptionally lucky in having all nineteen proposals successfully agreed upon.


text:
"Come at me outlander!" Gourlak called to start. Azurdanak edged forward in a perfect three point stance until he saw the war chief rear back with his club. He darted in past the shield.
Gourlak's warpaint had a noxious stench that caught Azurdanak like a wall once into the war chief's personal space. He choked, which gave Gourlak enough time to adjust and knee him in the chest. The wind knocked out of him, Azurdanak staggered and got brushed back by the shield instead of crushed by the club.
"Hah hah!" Gourlak cackled and moved in. He raised the club again and Azurdanak could only dodge. The chief's arms were longer than anticipated; the tip of the club brushed his face, loosening a tooth but leaving his skull intact.
Azurdanak skipped sideways to put a bonfire between them as the crowd jeered. The fight had gone badly, quickly. Fighting stinking man-giants between blazing bonfires was not a lesson Thibidout had deigned to offer.
Still, principles could be extracted. Azurdanak recalculated. He worked the timing of his breath into the timing of his steps. Wait for the swing, hold breath, move in, redirect the knee, shift Gourlak's balance, and topple him into the fire. Gourlak would not fall for that, but the scrum would create an opening in Gourlak's defense--an opening Azurdanak would exploit. He cycled through a score of different scenarios and contingencies as he and the war chief circled the bonfire. Satisfied that he had covered the angles, he stopped retreating and moved back into position.
When not directly engaged, Rone looked where the action was not. He often found, as he did now, that insight awaits the observer who watches the spaces between things. He stood 20 yards outside the camp, in the dark, in the tall grass, watching sparks mingle from the fires. And thus he alone noticed increased activity at the trading post. No longer were just heads peeking over the battlements; entire bodies stood on the walls. Frantic pointing and running.
Rone turned his head in time to see a great, translucent wildcat, perhaps 30 feet tall at the shoulder. Crouched frighteningly nearby, its eerie yellow eyes trained on him. When it hissed, Rone observed it was missing its top canines.
He left his calm demeanor like a lizard leaves its tail, bolting toward the Urugan moot, not at all certain he would make it to the safety of the mortal crowd.
During all of this, Dahlia remained in Gourlak's tent, angry and aimless. Too proud to go out and watch Azurdanak do his boring sword dance, she sullenly carved genitalia into wooden surfaces with a table knife.
"M'lady, you have a special something," came a smooth voice with an Urugan burr. "Something no one can match."
Faster than a wing beat, her sword was in her hand. "Faugh. I might be amused to hear your voice if it weren't dripping from your greasy face."
"Lady, I gave you everything but offense! And this is your gratitude." He sauntered into the tent and let the flaps close behind him.
"I didn't give you the thrashing you're clearly asking for," she said. "Would you feel gratified to receive that now?"
"What I want from you are the teeth you stole from me. You don't know what they can do, and I still have need of them. If you give them to me now, I will save you from the indignities that will surely follow when my father crushes your skinny wizardling. If he hasn't already."
A great shriek from the crowd rose from outside the tent. "That is likely his end now," said Faugh. He leaned against the center tent pole. "Kill me and you will not escape the camp. Give me what I want and you'll leave unharmed, I promise."
Dahlia had considerably more respect for Azurdanak's fighting skill than she did two weeks ago, but she doubted he would best Gourlak. And she had no reason to hate Faugh other than instinct. But the instinct was very strong.
"After you relieved me of the Grimalkyn talismans, I followed you." Faugh narrated like a campfire tale spinner. "Imagine my delight when I discovered you had brought them to my very home. And then you blundered into my father's ill graces. How easy it would be to reclaim them!
"Soolteg would never have missed them if you hadn't brought them back, of course. That man has more sacred bones than an ossuary. But once you did, he was bound to sense their power and tie his interminable sense of foreboding to your arrival. I couldn't have come back into my exiled home without your ruckus. But you did facilitate my return. Omens upon omens. What a fortuitous time for my reinstatement. When I reveal your possession of the talismans, I will be --- not forgiven, perhaps -- but tolerated again. How convenient."
"Faugh, I don't know what you're really up to," said Dahlia, "but I know why whores paint their faces. And your cheeks are too damn rosy," she said eyeing the distance to the tent flaps. "You care about yourself above all else. So here's what will happen in the next minute. I will leave this tent. In exchange, not only will you live, but you will keep at least one of your eyes. It could go even better for you if you stay quiet and calm."
"Calm?" he said merrily. "Of course. Quiet? Never one of my strengths." And with that, he kicked the center post of the tent, bringing the leather edifice down on them both.
Rone charged pell mell through the moot with the Grimalkyn scant feet behind. Now in the light of the bonfires, it was revealed. The great ghostly wildcat was mottled in color--gray on the face and head, darkening to an ochreous color along its spine, arched and threatening. Its sides were spotted dark and light and freakishly translucent. It loomed over the menhirs and tents. With one swipe, it could tumble half the camp.
"The Dreads!" Soolteg looked up and babbled. "Pravas Ka, Eater of Memory, walks the night! These outlanders brought the Dread Grimalkyn among us!"
Gourlak looked up at the terrible towering wildcat and shouted, "Urugans, do not quail! Find your knives--"
Further orders were cut short. The war chief gurgled as the Azurdanak's leyblade sank into his throat.
Only then, as proper training indicates, did Azurdanak look away from his opponent. He saw the massive spirit creature and blinked once, slackjawed.
With the loss of their leader, the Urugans fell to bedlam. Soolteg shouted dismal prophecies while tribe members scattered around him. Rone had disappeared in the chaos and the Grimalkyn had enough new targets that the Wanderer was forgotten. Great swipes of its paws swatted clumps of humanity far into the air. It rent flesh with its teeth and crushed tents underfoot in its rampage. Its ghostly body passed through the standing stones and its head swiveled with searching menace.
The wildcat's nose sniffed at an etherwordly air until its gaze leveled on the fallen war chief's tent.
Dahlia's sword was no help beneath the heavy collapsed tent. She thrashed to gain footing, but could not see or stand straight. Faugh, reared in such tents, knew how to maneuver. He crawled quickly behind Dahlia, knocked her down, and put his knee in her back.
"Your life is mine, wench. First tell me where the teeth are. I will search you bodily if I must, and I assure you, I will explore every cavity."
Dahlia struggled, but had no leverage. She went limp. "You win, Faugh," she said, teeth gritted. "They're in my bosom. Let me up and I'll get them for you."
"I'll just get them from here," he said, laying on her. He reached around to feel between her breasts.
He could not extract the teeth without letting up a little. In the moment of release, Dahlia senselessly thrashed. She used the space to wriggle around to face him. He grabbed the teeth and groped her in the commotion. He still lay atop her, but his pin was broken.
He held the carved teeth between them in the dark, close space. They were both sweaty with exertion.
Dahlia could hear his labored breath inches away. "Your charm finally swayed me, Faugh. Take your prize." She blindly head-butted the teeth into his mouth and brought her knee up to kick him in the groin. His reflexive inhalation sucked the teeth into the back of his throat. He choked and spit blood onto Dahlia's face.
The scent of blood mixed with its missing corporeality finally gave the Grimalkyn purchase on its target. Claws like scimitars ripped through the tent, catching Faugh and lifting him off Dahlia. Open to the sky now, Dahlia saw the Grimalkyn for the first time in the firelight. She screamed in terror at Dread manifest.
The Grimalkyn roared as it brought its paw back down, crushing Faugh against the tent. Then the great spectral cat crouched and began eating him alive. Faugh's screams ended, but the sound of crunching bones carried an involuntary shudder through to Dahlia's soul.
She sprang from the tent while the Dread was occupied. Only years of habit saw her sword in hand before fleeing. She ran the entire quarter mile to the trading post.
The post was flooded with frightened Urugan women and children, along with several non-Urugan servants who had escaped the madness. Inside the walls, she picked out Rone's mohawk stripe above the the refugee chaos.
Rone supported Azurdanak, who had fared poorly in the stampede. His left arm looked broken and his face was bloody. His expression was full disgust.
"Only six kills," he said. "Two more tried to avenge their fallen war chief during the tumult. I had to slay them with a broken arm. Six! I expected two dozen at least. I could have dispatched Crosian outlaw rabble if I had only been hunting six." He slumped against Rone, the last of his energy spent raging at fate.
Dahlia looked at Rone. Rone met her eyes briefly and then glanced away to a swirl of moths above a fire. "Outlaws, huh?" she said.
"I know a bounty on a bandit 'prince' and his horde over in Phaestra. Prince Eleques and his 60 Hatchets? You get the kills, Rone and I get the reward. That sound fair?"
He looked up at her. "We'll leave tomorrow."


text:
All things considered, with the precarious situation and the immense danger we faced, our situation could have been far worse. The preparations Mary and I had made were now paying off. We were largely invisible, walking down the street in the company of Simon. His flesh hung loose on him, his lips parted in a permanent leer, and he limped as he walked. Yet because of him, we barely got a second look from the people around us.
The arrival of the hoity-toity types to Warrick might have played a part in that. As citizens emerged from their houses, the new arrivals made their way through the city. All were dressed in their finest, and given the status they held in society, their finest was impressive. I was more worldly than most, and I didn't recognize some of the fabrics they wore.
Man, woman, child, and the occasional monstrous pet. They were colorful, crisp, and eerily bright as they walked through the city, gawking at those they passed, talking noisily.
Mary and I were part of the crowd at this point. Earlier, I'd observed how people spaced themselves out. Now I could see how they gathered together, trying to flee indoors and watch from the windows, clinging to the sides of the streets when and where they couldn't. Members of the local police force were blocking them from retreating further.
The locals were a stark contrast to the upper crust types. Their heads were bent slightly, their eyes averted from making any lingering contact with anyone around them, and they were dressed in dark, drab clothing. The clothes were nice, really, without any loose threads or worn patches, but they still weren't the sort of thing that was meant to draw attention to the wearer.
I watched, Mary close beside me, as the officers of Warrick gathered together. The uniformed men formed something of a wall, keeping the new arrivals from progressing down the street, much as they'd boxed in the locals. They were tense, I could see, and very mindful of where their pistols and swords were, pistol at the right hip, sword at the left, with exceptions for those I had to assume were left-handed.
The leader of the officers spoke to the person at the head of the group. Mary and I weren't close enough to hear. Here and there, the people at the sidelines spoke among one another. Husband to wife, parent to child. I deemed it safe to communicate with Mary.
I murmured, "A city like this, with all the rules in place, the authoritarian control, everything so carefully poised? They don't want the visitors to disturb things too much."
"Whatever happens, if the firstborn are as prone to getting violent at the slightest provocation as we were told," Mary said, glancing at Simon, "Then disasters are going to be likely. Someone's going to make mistakes, and people are going to get hurt."
"I would suspect," I said, very carefully, "That this is entirely the plan."
"People don't tend to want trouble at their wedding," Mary said.
"This isn't about the wedding," I said. I watched the aristocrats glance at each other. They seemed somewhat upset, but it wasn't horror, it wasn't anger, it was the look of a group of people who had hoped to have a picnic out in the sun and saw the rain arriving. "No, he doesn't care about that. But if people get hurt as collateral, it's very much a personal touch to the whole affair, here. If his fellow nobles die, it's less people in his way as he asserts a position of true power. It's very possible he doesn't plan to be here for much longer, and he may be sacrificing a large share of the citizens of Warrick in the course of the celebrations here."
Mary nodded. I watched her face as her eyes took in the crowd around us. Scared individuals.
He's going to find his allies among the nobles and upper crust, then he's going to secure their safety, assuming attack. He's going to be especially careful, whatever happens.
"Listen!" the local police chief raised his voice. "These people are the guests of the Lord Baron Richmond, and they are not the last that will arrive! For the time being they will be confined to the city center! Many have accommodations to arrange and errands to run. Outside of the city center, they will abide by the same rules you do! To facilitate this, each group of guests will be joined by you and your firstborn! You will do as you are asked and help them wherever possible!"
There were murmurs in the crowd.
"Remain outdoors, make yourselves available, and accompany anyone who asks! Spread the word to your neighbors. We will be checking homes!"
As if to demonstrate the power the visiting members of the upper class held over Warrick's people, someone in the crowd pointed at a man, a wicked smile on his face, and made a beckoning gesture.
A hundred sets of eyes watched as the man who had been beckoned lowered his head and started to walk. His son, about ten, held his hand, walking at his side, while his firstborn acted like his shadow, following behind. The thing would have been about eight feet tall if it could stand straight, but its back arched high and then swooped down, putting its head at a lower level than its shoulders. All down the spine, insect-like limbs moved and twitched incessantly. Its arms were held close to its chest, wrists bent, fingers curled.
Following the aristocrat's move, other visitors began picking out those families that would be part of their retinues. I saw a woman with elbow-length gloves and a long dress reach up to touch a firstborn's porcine face. From the look on the face of the man that belonged to the firstborn, he fully expected it to snap and kill both the woman and his family.
The stark horror in his eyes, it struck a chord with me. He was someone who was having to willingly and obediently face down his worst nightmare.
I saw the chief of the local police say something to the woman, and she pulled her hand back and away. The expression on her face was anything but apologetic. She smiled like she was in on a joke, and the police chief didn't smile back.
Accidents were going to happen. Days and lives were going to be ruined before this was over. Lives would be cut short, and families would mourn the dead. The energy around us was one of tension, everything wound so tight it could almost start humming.
The most obvious members of the group had been picked out. Those who remained were those with the sense to evade notice and avoid eye contact. They couldn't be summoned if they couldn't see the points or gestures of the aristocrats. This, in turn, led to the visitors walking further down the street, until they got close enough to call out.
Being small had its advantages. At the back of our particular little cluster of crowd, Mary and I were hard to make out compared to the adults around us. My hopes that we wouldn't be targeted grew fainter as the aristocrats made their way further down the street. They were treating this as a game, now. To find the more attractive people, the people who least wanted to be picked out.
A woman near me started shaking. She looked as if she'd been the nervous type well before she had come to Warrick. She was petite in the same way that some of the older mice I'd known were. Someone who hadn't been well nourished in her formative years. Her husband put an arm around her, but his comforting gesture went with an expression that seemed like it had run out of patience long ago.
"You," one of the aristocrats said, targeting her. The woman jumped as if she'd been poked with something sharp. The aristocrat was a man, dark haired with a dark beard and a mean smile. His jacket was embossed black wool with gold leaf.
"I have a daughter to get back to, we left her at home alone to watch over the fire, and our firstborn is-"
From the look of the man's smile, it wasn't going to work. He was the sort that would get along with the Baron. The sort that took a perverse joy in the suffering of others.
"I said you," the man said. "I've been instructed to gather flowers. You will show me where I can do that."
The woman's husband took the lead, pulling her along with him. The firstborn was a scrawny one, with a face not unlike the younger Twins had had, bone with skin stretched over it, and no muscle or fat to pad it. It wore clothes too large for it. It moved very slowly.
We needed a plan. We needed to get as close to where the Baron was likely to be as we could, and in an ideal world, we would need to do it sooner than later. How would this unfold? He would come down from the house in a show of strength and panache, he would show off his wife, who was likely in the process of being dressed up and having her physical modifications removed, and he would meet the Crown nobles and aristocrats.
If Fray or Mauer made a move then, he would be ready to retreat. The opportunity would be lost, and he likely wouldn't show his face until all was over and done with. Even with a small army at their disposal, I doubted Fray or Mauer would have an easy time attacking the noble in his home. With a large army, well, I doubted they could easily manage a large army without attracting attention.
If the enemies weren't here, then the Baron would socialize with the visitors, make a show of demonstrating just how much control he had over the locals, very probably by killing quite a few of them, and then retreat. The wedding would happen tomorrow or the day after.
We needed to relocate to the city center, where all of the aristocrats were being corralled. That was the place where the Baron would meet and greet, and where he would make his announcements.
But simply walking there would be a problem. We would be picked out and made victim to some aristocrat's whim.
We weren't being scouted just yet, but the crowd wasn't budging, much as rabbits might freeze as they noticed a predator. They averted their eyes and waited until the nobles drew near enough to pick them at random.
If they could only get through this part of things, then they would be able to stay in the background, tend to their yards or stay away from where the aristocrats were, and avoid too much trouble. If they got picked, however, and they were at the whim of whatever rich asshole chose them, and they would be plunged into a volatile situation where they might run into noble, or where some idiot might cause enough of a stir to disturb the firstborn.
I peered over the visiting members of the aristocracy. Some that were new to money, akin to the Gages, and they clearly had something to prove. There were others I could recognize as older money, there were families, businessmen who wore their trades on their sleeves, and politicians.
New money would be too worried about ruining what they had. Old money would be too inflexible. Families with influence were hard to wrangle, but doable. Businessmen, I wasn't sure I could get the leverage. Politicians were used to being manipulated, and often frustrated with the status quo, given how they would always be second to the Crown in authority, but the ones that were good enough to be here knew how subterfuge worked and how it worked against them. Manipulation would be possible, but it would require too much effort.
My eye fell on a young man, no older than sixteen. He wore a black wool coat that he left open, and a fine scarf. The boots he wore suggested he rode, though they had been shined to a glossy black and there were no telltale scuff marks suggesting a recent ride. A hunter, if I had to guess, and a scion of a noble family.
He was in the company of a pretty red-haired girl, a touch younger than him, who had clearly had her face altered. Nothing jumped out at me as bad handiwork, but the fact that I noticed she'd been altered and wasn't a born beauty meant that there were subtle signs. Given enough years, I expected she would go down the same road that Mrs. Gage had. The little signs would add up and she would be something regrettable. A wannabe noble. The girl wore a dress that was just far enough away from being white and had just enough of a blue tint added that she wouldn't steal the spotlight from the bride. It was close enough to be dangerous, considering the volatility of the nobles, however.
I touched Mary's hand. She glanced down, and I gestured.
Dutifully, Mary shifted her weight from one foot to another, a slight movement, but enough to draw notice, when half of the crowd around us wasn't daring to breathe. She met the boy's eyes, then looked away. She did a good job of acting, shrinking down and back.
It really didn't take much at all.
"You," the hunter said, without any hesitation. Mary looked at him, and he spoke again, "Yes, you. Come on, now."
Mary and I stepped out of the crowd, followed by Simon. Eyes were on us as we joined the pair. The red haired girl looked me over and looked somewhat disgusted. The young hunter's attention was wholly on Mary.
"Walk with us," he said.
He turned to go back the way he'd come, but he paused. "When I or Lanie tell you to do something, I expect you to respond much as you would to a noble, but call me sir. Call her miss."
"Yes sir," Mary said.
"Yes sir," I echoed her.
"Why did you come?" he asked. "Are you related?"
"No sir," I said. "Not by blood. But our parents were paired together, and we were made to come with. I have to go where the family firstborn goes."
"Hmph," he made a dismissive sound. He resumed walking, and we followed. The red haired girl, Mary and I made three people that were all walking side by side behind the young hunter. Simon followed us, limping.
My mind was working to come up with answers well in advance of any questions he might ask, so I could sound natural and normal.
Useless, in the end. Neither he nor the girl in his company seemed to care about us.
The girl spoke, "What do you do to amuse yourselves in a place like this?"
I had to fight not to give her an incredulous look. Did she not really understand what this city was?
"Individually, we read, miss," I said, "We pursue hobbies like painting and wood carving that can take place in the home."
"I like needlework, miss," Mary said. She was still playing the mouse, and in doing so, she reminded me of Lillian to the point that I wondered if she was specifically copying her best friend's mannerisms. "I am very good with a thread."
Behind us, Simon made a small spitting sound, a sputter cut short.
"But what do you actually do?" the girl asked. "I understand this nonsense with the monsters, but no self respecting person our age grows up and stays entirely out of trouble."
"Miss," Mary said, "This place affords us no respect at all. We do our best in the day to day, we stay out of sight and out of trouble, and that has to be good enough."
"I don't believe it," the girl said.
"Enough, Lanie," the young hunter said. "Let it be."
"I just spent three hours on a train, I was up when it was still dark out so we could catch the train on time, and now I'm supposed to sit on my hands and do nothing while our parents make bad jokes and try to look important? There has to be a pond where people sneak off to go skinny dipping, or a spot in the woods where the boys and girls stow booze they've managed to sneak from their parents."
"Monsters lurk in the woods, to guard Richmond House, miss," I said. "And if we were to try skinny dipping, we would have to bring our firstborn, and they would watch."
I had to look past Mary to see, but I could see a frown cross Lanie's face.
"So?" she asked, defiant, as if she were so brave that she wouldn't care if a monster leered at her. I didn't believe it in the slightest.
"Here," the young hunter said, indicating a nearby building. He'd led us off the main street. There were people around, but not many, and they seemed eager to avoid the young aristocrat's attentions.
"It's a stable," Lanie said.
He tried the door and opened it. I could smell the rich smells of the horse, the shit, and the hay.
"I just finished my first half-year at Whorrel's, and I thought I'd have a nice time, but no. I have to sit on the train for three hours, and now I get to watch you ride? Chance, you're taking a dull, terrible day and making it even worse."
"Come on," Chance said.
The stable had windows, and light made its way through, but it wasn't much. We made our way inside as ordered. The light inside dimmed considerably as the sliding door was closed behind us.
Chance turned his attention to Mary. He approached her, and she backed up. He moved more quickly, eager now, herding her to control where she moved, until she bumped up with her back to a wooden pillar.
"Move over, this way, so you're in the light," he told her.
Mary averted eye contact and moved over.
"Really, Chance?" Lanie asked. "This is even duller than watching you ride."
He waved dismissively in her direction and mine. "Amuse yourself with the boy."
Her eyes locked onto mine. She made a face. "Not interested."
Already twisted, tormented and badly abused by the paces I had put it through in the last few days, my ego took another hit.
Chance performed his dismissive wave again, with less enthusiasm or care behind the gesture. His attention was wholly consumed by Mary. He was well in her personal space now.
"You're not bad looking," he said.
Mary is a damn sight better than 'not bad looking', I thought, affronted.
My flare of annoyance coincided with Lanie's eye roll. She met my eyes and nodded, as if we were suddenly entirely on the same page.
"What do you think?" he asked Mary.
Mary twisted around, glancing at me. I gave her nothing. Better to let Chance wind himself up a little more before we let him down.
"My boyfriend recently died," Mary said, her voice quiet. "No offense to you, sir, but I don't think my heart would be in it, whatever happened."
"I won't press you, even though I know you're under orders to do exactly as I say," Chance said. He seemed to like the position of power, even if he wasn't quite exercising it. "I'm a gentleman. I will say that I'm a wealthy gentleman. I imagine you're looking for a way out of this town. I could give you that way."
"Except it's not your money, Chance," Lanie said. "It's your parents'."
"Shut your mouth, Lanie."
The red haired girl shot me a smile, as if the fact that she'd given Chance some trouble was a great bit of fun.
"I don't know, sir," Mary said, shrinking back, her head down.
"I can be convincing," he said.
It was my turn to roll my eyes, now. This was painful to watch and to listen to, and his complete lack of tact or ability to manipulate offended me.
"Marcy," I said.
"Is that your name?" Chance asked. The hunter, on the prowl, single minded in his pursuit. "Marcy is a good name. A lot of girls are calling themselves that, now that Mary has fallen out of fashion, what with the church and all."
"Are you giving me permission?" she asked.
"Permission?" Chance asked.
"Yes," I said.
Chance didn't get another word out as Mary pounced on him. She'd managed to draw two blades before she made contact with him, and as she landed astride his chest, she brought both blades down.
Lanie's hands went to her mouth. She wasn't quick to connect the dots, and by the time she'd turned to look at me, I'd drawn the pistol. She raised her white-gloved hands.
"What do you think you're doing?" Chance asked. "This-"
Mary did something to make him stop talking. A knife to his throat, perhaps.
Lanie, meanwhile, stared at me, her eyes glittering with excitement, hands raised.
"His clothes are too large for you," Mary remarked.
"I know," I said. "We could put you in Lanie's clothes, though. Simon and I could be your Warrick-born accompaniment."
Mary moved the points of her knives, turning to look Lanie up and down.
"One young noble, though?" Mary asked. "Hard to sell."
It was. Mary, alone, with a single boy and a monster in tow, based on the demographics I'd seen earlier, it wasn't an easy image to pull off. People would glance her way and remember the scene. I trusted Mary to play the aristocrat, she'd been a Mothmont girl, but that wasn't the concern.
"Firstborn!" Chance managed, voice strangled. Mary's distraction had given him the chance to speak.
"I'm not a firstborn," Simon said, sounding tired, his words slurred. "I'm a doctor. Yesterday evening, my friends and I were in the same situation as you two, except they carved into my face as part of that, and they stabbed my lady-friend in the back. When they were done, they made us use our talents to modify me. I would suggest that you do what they say."
Good man, Simon, I thought.
"Do you do this sort of thing a great deal?" Lanie asked me. Simon's little speech had put new fear into her eyes, but her voice was breathy.
She was pretty, though not so pretty as Mary, because it wasn't a real sort of prettiness. Her red hair was tidy and her clothes flattered her figure. The look in her eyes was intense, suggesting she was wholly caught up in the moment. It would be so easy to get a reaction out of her, to say one thing or another and toy with her emotions, to excite her, to devastate her.
Yet all I found myself feeling was a profound sense of how much I missed Lillian.
I put a sly, wicked smile on my face as I touched the nose of the pistol against her sternum. "I think that now that the tables have turned, it's my turn to ask the questions. Miss."
Just a little bit of play, to get her reeled in just a touch more.
"Am I supposed to call you sir?" she asked. Fear and excitement mingled as she gave me a smile with just a hint of a falter to it.
"Not at all," I said. "We're going to walk out of this stable. Possibly with and possibly without Chance over there, depending on how cooperative he is. I'm thinking you'll be cooperative, won't you?"
The smile was no longer faltering. She'd wanted excitement, and she'd gotten possibly more excitement than she'd had in her life to date. I suspected that particular well was bottomless.
"We are going to leave as a group," I told her. "You're going to act like you were before. You'll tell me and Mary there to do things, but the most important thing is that you get us to the town center, in the thick of things. What do you think about that?"
"I think… can I be honest?"
I nodded once.
"I planned to avoid my parents and my aunt as much as possible today. They know I planned to, and they'll be surprised to see me."
"Well then," I said. "Would they be less surprised if Chance was ordering us about and being something of a stubborn ass?"
Chance squirmed a bit, clearly offended.
"I think they would find that a perfectly good reason for me to be back there," she said. She licked her lips, as if they were dry.
And for Chance to be alive.
The girl wasn't dumb.
"Mary," I said. "I'm thinking along the lines of a razor-wire slipknot. Put it around his neck, run it through his sleeve. Tug, and you slice his throat? It should keep him obedient."
"Give me two minutes," Mary said.
I nodded. "And you, miss, I assume you don't need razor wire to stay complacent? Knowing I have the gun should be enough?"
Her head moved, signaling I was right. I suspected I could have handed her the gun and she would have still been obedient.
I also suspected that, at the first sign of trouble, she would prove to be a problem.
"What will we do in the meantime?" Lanie asked.
There was a change in the tenor of things outside. The citizens of Warrick were captive prey, and they were sensitive to changes in their environment. There was a great deal of tension, and the smallest movements could make things reverberate through the streets and buildings.
This wasn't a small movement.
"You could pat me down," Lanie said.
For all that she'd said she wasn't interested before, she sure seemed to find me interesting now.
"Shut up," I said. "I'm listening."
"For?" she asked.
I raised the gun, and I pressed it between her eyes. Obediently, she shut her mouth, pursing her lips.
I listened, and I heard distant horses. A procession, not dissimilar to the arrival of the first trainload of aristocrats, but heavier, weightier.
"The Baron is here," I said, voicing my observations aloud. "At the town center."
This is it.


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Hi everyone,
I have been reading this forum for a few weeks now and I must say it has really opened my eyes.
Here is a quick introduction from me:
I am 34 years old woman, first went to my UK GP complaining of extreme tiredness in 2008 and was finally diagnosed beginning of 2009 in France with Hashimoto (high antibodies, I don't have the exact result with me). I was put on levothyroxine and had to fight until I got my dose increased to 150 mcg. This did improve my symptoms (was able to go to work for a full day and do some light exercising without feeling completely exhausted). However I always felt something was missing as I never felt like "before": I get tired much faster (for example going out for dinner at the end of a work day is often too much for me) and find it very hard to concentrate at work which is starting to be a real issue as I feel very overwhelmed all the time.
Due to my work I moved to France for a couple of years just before I was diagnosed and then to the Netherlands for 4 years.
During that time I didn't have the energy to look for alternative treatment but now I have moved back to the UK and I am determined to improve. I went to my GP asking him for blood tests and he did write TSH, FT3 and FT4 but the lab only did TSH (which was "normal" at 0.66). After I talked about my symptoms he said he couldn't help me but that he would refer me to an endocrinologist.
Does anyone know a good endo around South west London (Richmond/ Kingston/ Wimbledon area)? I have health insurance thanks to my work so don't mind going private.
What should I do before going to see him/ her? Would it be beneficial for me to get private blood tests before seeing the endo? Or should I wait and see what they suggest?


text:
I was writing to a friend about trying to do the right thing and being afraid to be judged. In situations where I feel called to not go along with a group but am afraid of the fallout and drama, I read these words from Mother Theresa. This has given me courage many times. I am not Catholic, and prefer words like the Creator, the Sacred, or The One Who Makes and Sustains Us (it's the poet in me!) but Mother Theresa's magnificent wisdom transcends sectarian differences. If you are reading, I hope that this applies somewhere where you need courage.
It's Between You and God by Mother TheresaPeople are often unreasonable, illogical and self-centered.
Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.
Be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies.
Succeed anyway.
If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you.
Be honest and frank anyway.
What you spend years building, someone may destroy overnight.
Build anyway.
If you find serenity and happiness, others may be jealous.
Be happy anyway.
The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow.
Do good anyway.
Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough.
Give the world the best you have anyway.
Because in the final analysis, all of this is between you and God….
It was never between you and them anyway.


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Jen Castillo
Fresno, CA
I have taken classes in haircutting, coloring, hair extensions, hair styling, and bridal hair.
Hobbies for over 20 years are sewing, painting and any type of a crafts. I create my own patterns and designs sometimes if I can't find one that I am looking for. I also see something I like and try to figure out how to make it myself. Crafting runs in my family and I think that is why I love it so much.
I am married with 2 beautiful girls. Which I like to play with their hair but they don't always let me. I know some moms out there understand that. They grow up too fast!


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Too Faced Chocolate Bar Palette (Full Face) GRWM
You know the feeling when you get a brand new product and you just can't wait to rip it open and splash it all over your face? I felt like that with the ever so popular Too Faced Chocolate Bar palette but I waited until the video to use it, so I was quite excited.
The Chocolate Bar experience begins as soon as you open the palette and the smell of sweet chocolate envelops you. The shadows actually contain pure cocoa powder which gives them the real chocolate smell. Not forgetting that all of the shades have chocolate related names like Triple Fudge and Salted Caramel. It's so unique to any eyeshadow palette I've had before but for all of the right reasons.
I created this extremely glamorous, champagne inspired makeup look. I hope you enjoy this get ready with me style video.
Have you used this palette? What do you think?
I'm posting a detailed review on this palette, along with swatches, on Tuesday.
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0 comments on "Too Faced Chocolate Bar Palette (Full Face) GRWM"
I've had this palette for about 8 months now and I'm still doing the same things with it!! I'm so glad you've posted this, you've inspired me to fiiinally step out of my comfort zone and do something different for a change. Lovely post and lovely video, thank you! 💖
Reblogged this on Ancien Hippie.
Love the look 😍 Thanks for sharing 😊
Pingback: 20 Beauty Questions Tag | MakeupWithAK
Hey love!
I have tagged you to do the 20 Beauty Questions tag. Here is the link to my post:
https://makeupwithak.wordpress.com/2016/01/11/20-beauty-questions-tag/ I hope you enjoy doing it.
XOXO Amanda
cant wait to try this palette!
Love this! You look great! x
I have the semi sweet palette and love it! Now I think I may need to get this one too…xoxo
To be honest, a very versatile palette to work along with and the makeup looks absolutely stunning. Loved watching your video as always.
Great look chick! x
I love this palette! I love how pretty it is and how great it smells. It even tastes good if u taste it, but it says do not eat on the box…oops. The champagne truffle color is a great highlight for your cheekbones, it is my new favorite. I love this palette so much that for christmas this year I got the semi sweet palette.
I'm so in love with this look, I bought the chocolate bar pallete about 2 months ago and I love it so much! the smell of chocolate is so intoxicating, it helps wake me up in the morning when putting on my makeup 😊