Three Faces Of One Mask

In 37 years, having never cast a vote, I am often admonished on my apathy, and reminded of the sacrifices that women like Emily Pankhurst made in giving women like me a privalage that I'm wasting.

Not that I ever knew Emily Pankhurst, but getting to know Brown, Cameron and Clegg, the ones we are asked to vote for, is equally difficult.

Politics are confusing. And so are most politicians. Matters created, contrived and solved by men and women who it has been shown have no moral character, who say one thing, and do something else, are difficult people to trust and support. They have a knack of complicating problems, rather than looking for simple and moral answers. And just when you think you see one good side of the same face, out pops the bad side. Exactly which mask are they hiding behind. And what is their true agenda? I doubt anyone really sees the true person beyond that presented.

So, I've observed politics, rather than trying to understand all the complexities of it. And where possible I've tried to act and speak out against those things which I know are corruptable and wrong. Support is hard to find. Very few politicans today are on the same page. They want to take support, but rarely do they want to give it.

The underpining building blocks of 'stability' have been knocked out at their foundations by politicians and the media in the UK. The decay of moral values, the destruction of the family, and the denegration of manhood, and christian values, destroyed and de-valued.

Those who are speaking out about the immoraly and real decay of Great Britain, issues that are swept under the carpet by the three main leaders; are being labelled bigots. They are silenced by the very politicans, law makers, who ask for our vote. In humanistic tones, they fall on both sides of the fence, rather than showing any real strength and tenacity. They rarely do the right thing. Call me irresponsible. I choose not to give them power.

I Am Not a Number!

I have always been a de-clutterer. I have never held much sentimental value to objects, but there has always been one or two little things I have hesitated with in throwing out. One was a jacket that belonged to my late husband, which I kept for years, and the other, which I still do have, is the little name tag bands they put on new born babies, with their name and date of birth and weight. For some reason, that first little introduction into the world, with their name in writing, holds value. I keep them amongst hand made cards, and school soverniers that my children all bought home.

And then some years ago, I spent a short time helping in a maternity ward at a local hospital, and glanced again at those little bands. I wondered about their name, who they would be, and what would happen to them. I was also a little dismayed at the electronic tags that they also attached to new borns. This measure had been put in place to prevent baby snatching. At one point in the distant past someone had walked out with a baby.

Days were often spent therefore responding to these alarms when they would accidently go off. They were clumpy horrid little attachments. I wondered how long it would be before the insertion of the chip would take place. Would it be when parents complained enough, or would it be when they said nothing at all.

Now the first babies to be Bar Coded have been born this week in a hospital in England. At the moment, the bar code is still on the small tiny band. But it holds the name, mothers name, NI number, and blood type. This can all be scanned, thus preventing human error from eligable hand writing The ankle bar code also includes a heel prick blood sample label taken after five weeks, which proud new parents can take home with them in a little red baby book. Isn't that sweet! Bar Code and Blood. A wonderful keepsake.

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/health/child_health/article7105626.ece

I wonder often how long it will be before we all wake up to the reality, that we are all just commodities in this world. That the human race is valued by those who rule it, as just money making machines to feed their bloodthirsty lust. That we are all being designed and co-erced to be traceable and trackable and answerable? Maybe, I'll keep my childrens birth tags. To remind me that once they were born free. They had a name, and were not just a number.

The Ex Gay Story in the Music Pop World

http://www.narth.com/docs/popmusic.html

No one can tell another person who they are at their core.

Yet, every day we accept sticky labels pinned on us by mankind.

We grow up being moulded by society, by families, by friends, by lack of love. The world and our emotions control us, and makes us do strange things. Not many people wonder who they really are. They think they already know. They do not see they are puppets. That no one is living their own life.

I love the above story. It is Giuseppe Povia's story. (Luca) If he is trying to influence people, than he is doing nothing more than everyone else out there. And shouldn't he be free to sing his story. Why do people want to shut him up. Could it be the truth is painful to those who want to keep us trapped? Could it be his story of freedom offends.

What a terrible death sentance mankind imposes on another when it tell them there is no other way of being. Where people claim to fight for their right of choice, real choice is denied to some, who also have another side to a story.

http://www.wnd.com/index.php?pageId=42379

Can I Live

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4AqPRcF7ZC0