''We don't need no money, we will make it work''
Wednesday, 16 May 2012
SAO II.
Warmth in the coldest place
Company in the lonliest time
Despite the miles, honey sticks to my grip
Different pace, different weather, louder place, doesn't matter
Its better than I ever knew,
More than can be true;
The best, is not the heaven sought after, No.
Tis us, and you.
Company in the lonliest time
Despite the miles, honey sticks to my grip
Different pace, different weather, louder place, doesn't matter
Its better than I ever knew,
More than can be true;
The best, is not the heaven sought after, No.
Tis us, and you.
Monday, 14 May 2012
S.A.O.
Its better than I ever knew, better than I ever thought could be true
The best, is not the heaven sought after; no, tis us, and you.
The best, is not the heaven sought after; no, tis us, and you.
Wednesday, 12 October 2011
Labour of Love
There comes a time when we retreat to what is familiar to us. A play-list, an artist, a film or a book. My familiarity is The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran. I was first introduced to Gibran at a neighbours house, after scouring her fathers eclectic and most interesting collection of books when I was fourteen or fifteen. I read it, enjoyed it, and put it back. My father then gave me this book as a Christmas present in 2007.
As usual, the first page proceeding the inside cover reads' Jol '07. Selma,
Read, Enjoy' followed by something utterly illegible and signed with 'Pabbi'.
Since 2007, I have probably read each passage of this book between 20-35 times, and it always reveals more and makes more sense - for that one moment, because it relates to how I feel or how I view the world at that very particular point in time. And as if its the first time I gaze at the book, the next time I read the various passages, it means something else and I pick up on other aspects of Gibrans writings. This, in essence, is brilliant writing and brilliant literature. When an author can write something that the audience draws from differently overtime, as they grow, mature or change (or all three:) ), you can rest assured you are privileged to be exposed to one of the greats. I will probably always return to Gibran throughout the course of my life - as my grandfather did at his recent 50th marriage anniversary party with my grandmother, where he read Gibran's passage of 'marriage'. Eloquent, beautiful, simple and true.
Now, I have recently moved to Dublin to complete my Masters studies at Trinity College Dublin. I thoroughly enjoy the student aspect of my life, and feel both grateful and privileged to carry on my studies at such a renowned and old university. HOWEVER, anyone who knows me, knows how much I enjoy working. The buzz, the stress, the post-work beers, complaining customers, good and bad bosses, inside jokes with your colleagues, the satisfaction of doing it right, making people smile and being thanked for your service by genuinely satisfied clients - as well as the evil looks (and sometimes evil words ha ha) of the displeased clients - all makes the weeks go by faster and enrich my life with (awesome) anecdotes. It is fulfilling and gives an added dimension to productivity that is different then studying and preparing for lectures. I have scoured the city of Dublin for part-time work, with no avail, and have become disillusioned. While down in the country this weekend, I re-read The Prophet and came across the passage on work (pg 25).
"Then a ploughman said, Speak to us of Work.
And he answered, saying: …..
……. Always you have been told that work is curse and labour a misfortune.
But I say to you that when you work you fulfil a part of earth's furthest dream,
assigned to you when that dream was born,
And in keeping yourself with labour you are in truth loving life, and to love life through labour is to be intimate with life's inmost secret.
…Work is love made visible.
And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy.
For if you bake bread with indifference, you bake a bitter bread that feeds but half mans hunger" ..
Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet,
pg25-26
Reading this gave me a great zest, I feel hopeful and energised and I am determined to join the labour market. Christmas temp, shiet hours, shiet pay, I don't care ... I will print my CV tomorrow and hopefully return home employed ;)
As usual, the first page proceeding the inside cover reads' Jol '07. Selma,
Read, Enjoy' followed by something utterly illegible and signed with 'Pabbi'.
Since 2007, I have probably read each passage of this book between 20-35 times, and it always reveals more and makes more sense - for that one moment, because it relates to how I feel or how I view the world at that very particular point in time. And as if its the first time I gaze at the book, the next time I read the various passages, it means something else and I pick up on other aspects of Gibrans writings. This, in essence, is brilliant writing and brilliant literature. When an author can write something that the audience draws from differently overtime, as they grow, mature or change (or all three:) ), you can rest assured you are privileged to be exposed to one of the greats. I will probably always return to Gibran throughout the course of my life - as my grandfather did at his recent 50th marriage anniversary party with my grandmother, where he read Gibran's passage of 'marriage'. Eloquent, beautiful, simple and true.
Now, I have recently moved to Dublin to complete my Masters studies at Trinity College Dublin. I thoroughly enjoy the student aspect of my life, and feel both grateful and privileged to carry on my studies at such a renowned and old university. HOWEVER, anyone who knows me, knows how much I enjoy working. The buzz, the stress, the post-work beers, complaining customers, good and bad bosses, inside jokes with your colleagues, the satisfaction of doing it right, making people smile and being thanked for your service by genuinely satisfied clients - as well as the evil looks (and sometimes evil words ha ha) of the displeased clients - all makes the weeks go by faster and enrich my life with (awesome) anecdotes. It is fulfilling and gives an added dimension to productivity that is different then studying and preparing for lectures. I have scoured the city of Dublin for part-time work, with no avail, and have become disillusioned. While down in the country this weekend, I re-read The Prophet and came across the passage on work (pg 25).
"Then a ploughman said, Speak to us of Work.
And he answered, saying: …..
……. Always you have been told that work is curse and labour a misfortune.
But I say to you that when you work you fulfil a part of earth's furthest dream,
assigned to you when that dream was born,
And in keeping yourself with labour you are in truth loving life, and to love life through labour is to be intimate with life's inmost secret.
…Work is love made visible.
And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy.
For if you bake bread with indifference, you bake a bitter bread that feeds but half mans hunger" ..
Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet,
pg25-26
Reading this gave me a great zest, I feel hopeful and energised and I am determined to join the labour market. Christmas temp, shiet hours, shiet pay, I don't care ... I will print my CV tomorrow and hopefully return home employed ;)
Constrained Intervention
On October 5th, I attended an event at the Institute of International and European Affairs (IIEA) in Dublin, to hear Lord David Owen speak about 'constrained intervention'. To begin, I think it is valuable to offer some information on Owen to establish his credibility, or as you may find, his lack there of.
Lord Owen has a CV of encyclopedic lengths, but to be brief, he is amongst the founders of the Social Democratic Party in Britain, which he was deputy leader and leader respectively in the eighties. Owen has also served as Minister of Health (he is a trained surgeon) and the youngest Foreign Secretary in Britain. He is/has been a member of various bodies, ranging from disarmament, preventing deadly conflict, humanitarian cooperation and arms trade.
He also found the time to be the Chancellor of University of Liverpool from 1996-09, and now, at the age of 73, spends his time as a crossbencher in the House of Lords for Plymouth. In his speech at the IIEA, he mentioned, on several occasions, his business interests in Guinea and Russia. This is clearly a very busy, and accomplished man. It was exciting to be at the IIEA, and hear him speak. So, to move on, Owen discussed 'constrained intervention', in relation to Libya.
His main point was that we are entering a new era of intervention, one that is slightly different from the unpopular liberal intervention style of putting men on the ground and taking control from a military standpoint. The scars remain tremendously visible in the U.S. after the Somalia affair in the 90's, with the image of the American soldier being dragged on the streets remains ingrained in the memory of many politicians and citizens. As Owen pointed out, Rwanda and Bosnia paid the price for that. His argument was that constrained intervention, whereby, outsiders (the West?) offer assistance to groups, without putting occupying forces or men on the ground. This, in effect, allows the citizens to fight, and resolve, their own battles but with 'legal military action' that 'tilts the balance'. Owen stresses that constrained intervention must be utilised on a human rights basis, and not to install democracy, it must be sanctioned and practiced within the realms of the UN Charter. In the case of Libya, it was a cooperation between France and UK (main players) and approval of the U.S. It was a NATO operation given thumbs up by the UN. Pretty perfect, with the absence of key player Germany and other allies. Owen, despite describing himself as an eternal optimist, said that EU, NATO and other international organisations always acting together is a broken dream - and it just not going to happened.
Initially, I was awe-struck by the idea of constrained intervention and supported what Owen was saying. It wasn't until discussion with my colleagues where the skepticism began to arise. Is constrained intervention a way to ensure blood is not spilled on the hands of the West? We can always blame the men on the ground, which are not our own. Is it a simple way for western powers to steer, or, ahem .. 'balance', the conflict to a suitable agenda without being responsible for the blame when it goes tits up? We know from the past that interventions are heavily criticised, and often fall short of peoples expectations. In a time of economic downturn and the deeply unpopular Afghanistan and Iraqi invasions on part of the UK and US, sending troops to fight 'another mans battle' is out of the question, and a really good way for Obama and Cameron to say goodbye to their jobs, respectively. The truth is, I don't know. Just as I don't know much of anything, I certainly don't know about some new military/aid/intervention strategy that is just being put to the test now - I can say, whole heatedly, however, that it is far too early for Owen to declare Libya a success. He approaches the situation as if it is a done and dusted affair. Civilian lives, in great numbers, were lost by our air strikes and we are yet to witness the new leader of Libya. Who said the devil that we know is sometimes better then the one we don't? This is an unfinished story, but I'd be very interested in keeping up with this concept of constrained intervention. My hopes are that it will not be some new half-arsed method of 'saving the world' from an arms length, which provide an immediate and easy exit strategy for those involved.
Lord Owen has a CV of encyclopedic lengths, but to be brief, he is amongst the founders of the Social Democratic Party in Britain, which he was deputy leader and leader respectively in the eighties. Owen has also served as Minister of Health (he is a trained surgeon) and the youngest Foreign Secretary in Britain. He is/has been a member of various bodies, ranging from disarmament, preventing deadly conflict, humanitarian cooperation and arms trade.
He also found the time to be the Chancellor of University of Liverpool from 1996-09, and now, at the age of 73, spends his time as a crossbencher in the House of Lords for Plymouth. In his speech at the IIEA, he mentioned, on several occasions, his business interests in Guinea and Russia. This is clearly a very busy, and accomplished man. It was exciting to be at the IIEA, and hear him speak. So, to move on, Owen discussed 'constrained intervention', in relation to Libya.
His main point was that we are entering a new era of intervention, one that is slightly different from the unpopular liberal intervention style of putting men on the ground and taking control from a military standpoint. The scars remain tremendously visible in the U.S. after the Somalia affair in the 90's, with the image of the American soldier being dragged on the streets remains ingrained in the memory of many politicians and citizens. As Owen pointed out, Rwanda and Bosnia paid the price for that. His argument was that constrained intervention, whereby, outsiders (the West?) offer assistance to groups, without putting occupying forces or men on the ground. This, in effect, allows the citizens to fight, and resolve, their own battles but with 'legal military action' that 'tilts the balance'. Owen stresses that constrained intervention must be utilised on a human rights basis, and not to install democracy, it must be sanctioned and practiced within the realms of the UN Charter. In the case of Libya, it was a cooperation between France and UK (main players) and approval of the U.S. It was a NATO operation given thumbs up by the UN. Pretty perfect, with the absence of key player Germany and other allies. Owen, despite describing himself as an eternal optimist, said that EU, NATO and other international organisations always acting together is a broken dream - and it just not going to happened.
Initially, I was awe-struck by the idea of constrained intervention and supported what Owen was saying. It wasn't until discussion with my colleagues where the skepticism began to arise. Is constrained intervention a way to ensure blood is not spilled on the hands of the West? We can always blame the men on the ground, which are not our own. Is it a simple way for western powers to steer, or, ahem .. 'balance', the conflict to a suitable agenda without being responsible for the blame when it goes tits up? We know from the past that interventions are heavily criticised, and often fall short of peoples expectations. In a time of economic downturn and the deeply unpopular Afghanistan and Iraqi invasions on part of the UK and US, sending troops to fight 'another mans battle' is out of the question, and a really good way for Obama and Cameron to say goodbye to their jobs, respectively. The truth is, I don't know. Just as I don't know much of anything, I certainly don't know about some new military/aid/intervention strategy that is just being put to the test now - I can say, whole heatedly, however, that it is far too early for Owen to declare Libya a success. He approaches the situation as if it is a done and dusted affair. Civilian lives, in great numbers, were lost by our air strikes and we are yet to witness the new leader of Libya. Who said the devil that we know is sometimes better then the one we don't? This is an unfinished story, but I'd be very interested in keeping up with this concept of constrained intervention. My hopes are that it will not be some new half-arsed method of 'saving the world' from an arms length, which provide an immediate and easy exit strategy for those involved.
Tuesday, 13 September 2011
Monday, 29 August 2011
Yeats
Wine comes in at the mouth,
& love comes in at the eye;
That's all we shall know truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.
& love comes in at the eye;
That's all we shall know truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.
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