Theo brings some advice for 2010

Old Farmer's Advice:

Your fences need to be horse-high, pig-tight and bull-strong.

Keep skunks and bankers at a distance.

Life is simpler when you plow around the stump.

A bumble bee is considerably faster than a John Deere tractor.

Words that soak into your ears are whispered...not yelled.

Meanness don't jes' happen overnight.

Forgive your enemies; it messes up their heads.

Do not corner something that you know is meaner than you.

It don't take a very big person to carry a grudge.

You cannot unsay a cruel word.

Every path has a few puddles.

When you wallow with pigs, expect to get dirty.

The best sermons are lived, not preached.

Most of the stuff people worry about ain't never gonna happen anyway.

Don't judge folks by their relatives.

Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.

Live a good, honorable life.. Then when you get older and think back, you'll enjoy it a second time.

Don't interfere with somethin' that ain't bothering you none.

Timing has a lot to do with the outcome of a Rain dance.

If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop diggin'.

Sometimes you get, and sometimes you get got.

The biggest troublemaker you'll probably ever have to deal with, watches you from the mirror every mornin'.

Always drink upstream from the herd.

Good judgment comes from experience, and a lotta that comes from bad judgment.

Lettin' the cat outta the bag is a whole lot easier than puttin' it back in.

If you get to thinkin' you're a person of some influence, try orderin' somebody else's dog around..

Live simply . . . Love generously . . . Care deeply . . . Speak kindly . . . and don't never pick a fight with an old man. If he is too old to fight, he'll just kill
you.

The Twelve (Alt Text) Days of Christmas - Cafe Grendel

From Grendel.

As you may know, most web sites use alt-text, or alternative text to describe key images that can be used by people with vision impairment to enrich the online experience. Not a lot of people notice alt-text and sometimes it may not always be what you expect. Take this example from a website depicting the well known “12 Days of Christmas” carol.

On the first day of Christmas, my true love sent to me A partridge in a pear tree.
alt="What a crappy tree! The image shows a bloody twig with a curled leaf and a partridge that looks like a magpie has ripped half it feathers off. If this was my true love I’d be wondering what message they are trying to send"

On the second day of Christmas, my true love sent to me Two turtle doves, And a partridge in a pear tree.
alt="Same tree and ragged bird but this time beside it are two ratty looking pigeons that have crapped all over the twig the author laughingly refers to as a ‘tree’"

On the third day of Christmas, my true love sent to me Three French hens, Two turtle doves, And a partridge in a pear tree.
alt="There’s enough in frame now that the image is landscape and in addition to the existing birds three battery hens are depicted looking like refugees from an animal rights ad for free range"

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me Four calling birds, Three French hens, Two turtle doves, And a partridge in a pear tree.
alt="Yawn, this is one of those images that makes me envy those reading this who have a vision impairment. The authors have added four tired-looking budgies to the already sad collection of avian specimens"

You can read the rest here.

I know that this is all a bit geeky, but in the spirit of trying it out I have included some alt text in this Traditional Scottish Advent Calendar. Hope you all have a great holiday season and a good 2010.

Getting to Grips with Depression - Ellee Seymour

Depression is one of those terrible illnesses we handle so badly.
Mental illness is sadly still tabooed, and it is only when we hear about those who can no  longer live with their tortured minds and commit suicide, like Germany’s famous goalkeeper Robert Enke, or the beautiful Korean model Daul Kim, that this difficult issue is publicly debated.
But what can be done to help those suffering from depression, those poor, helpless souls who would rather be anywhere instead of plummeting deeper their dark abyss?
These were two young and talented people who seemingly had it all with their successful careers. But they couldn’t cope with their depression, like countless others. Their fame and fortune couldn’t save them.
Tragically, even when you work in the profession, it seems little help is at hand, as this poignant letter in today’s Times describes, written by the bereaved father of a man who was severely depressed:
Sir, Your leading article (“Working minds”, Nov 23) about the need for depression to be accepted in the workplace has particular resonance for my wife and me because we lost our son to a severe depressive illness in 2005. He was a clinical psychologist, but as his illness developed he was desperate to keep it secret from all the mental health professionals who knew him or might have contact with him in the future. He insisted that his career depended on this because there was a strong prejudice in the profession against anyone who had suffered from mental illness: they were perceived as not “tough enough” for the job.
We found this hard to believe — the mental health profession seemed the last place on earth where such attitudes were likely to be found — but we were assured by others that it was so. Not only did this worry add to the burden of an already terrifying illness, whose features are so accurately and movingly described by Giles Andreae in times2, but it made our son reluctant to seek treatment and, when he did seek it, prevented him from making use of good local facilities that might have helped him. The treatment which he did accept was unsatisfactory and, in the end, unavailing.
Surely it is clear that someone who survives a depressive illness is enhanced rather than diminished by the experience, and that the insight which results may be of advantage, particularly in the field of mental health.
Richard Oerton
Bridgwater, Somerset

Hey Rupert (You speak with Forked Tongue) - Fake Consultant

Our favorite irascible media tyrant is in the news once again, and once again it’s time for me to bring you a story of doing one thing while wishing for another.

In a November 6th interview, Sky News Australia’s David Speers spent about 35 minutes with the CEO of NewsCorp, Rupert Murdoch; the conversation covering topics as diverse as software piracy, world economics, the role of Fox News (and Fox NewsPinion©) in American politics, a strange defense of Glenn Beck, and, not very long afterwards, an even stranger defense of immigration.

We have heard a lot about the…how can I put this politely…challenges Murdoch seems to face associating factual reality with his reality, and we could have lots of fun going through his factual misstatements—but instead, I want to take on one specific issue today:

Rupert Murdoch says he hates it when people steal his content from the Internet to draw readers to their sites…which is funny, if you think about it, because he has no problem at all stealing my content (and lots of yours, as well) for his sites.

 More here

Berlin Wall Juke Box - Pub Philosopher

Another installment in the occasional Friday Pub Juke Box series.

In my post on Monday I said that, on the whole, I believe that the collapse of the Eastern Bloc was a good thing. That's not to say that there weren't winners and losers though. I don't often agree with Seumas Milne but he makes some good points here. The experiment in bandit capitalism which followed the break up of the Soviet Union was a disaster. Replacing apparatchiks with oligarchs is not what Russian and east European dissidents died and went to prison for.

So today's juke box reflects the opposing views of 1989. The first is the optimistic "Winds of Change" from Germany's Scorpions, which became the unofficial anthem of the fall of the Berlin Wall. Inevitably, they were playing it on Monday evening in Berlin.

The second is the less well known and much more pessimistic Lurhstaap from Britain's New Model Army. Written in 1989, Lurhstaap warned that 'these changing winds can grow cold and hostile'. The lyrics might seem eerily prescient to those who feel they were robbed after 1989.

And in the shadows of the crowded square, a thousand paper deals go down
And hungry sharks from everywhere smell the blood and head for town

I like both tracks, which perhaps reflects the mixed feelings I had then and still have now. On the whole, I'm glad communism collapsed but we really missed an opportunity afterwards.

Da Videos Ya?

Show Us Yer Tits! Mutley hits the big Four Double O

Congratulations to Mutley for his contribution to Blogpower and the overall  tit blogging experience. Here at Defending the Blog we are not far behind. That said, this blog is a good deal more boring. So in the spirit of sharing...

"Many famous people have viewed your Blog - which is somewhat infamous because of your irritating inane comments on other peoples blogs, over the last 400 posts - and if you had just once written something insightful, moving, witty, clever, sexy, charming or funny you would have been at least been mentioned in The Guardian or The Sunday Times as they are desperate for copy. But as you are a boring tit, you have squandered this opportunity by writing such complete inconsequential shit!" My friend Mr Beast confided this in me over a pint of his favourite port, tequila and sheep milk at my 400th post blog party last weekend. I am afraid he was rather in his cups, as we say in the South, and there was a distinctly unhealthy sweaty sheen to his skin.

However, my whip thin friend Giles a.k.a Lady Ga-Ga seemed also determined to bury the knife deep. He went on and on about how my tedious interest in Supermarkets and toothache was enough to drive a Nun to suicide (which I once did - but thats another story!) and that 'I should welcome the comfort of obscurity' - odd turn of phrase if you ask me.

Much more great stuff here.

Ruthie reflects on Fort Hood

So here I am, writing my thesis about how domestic terror attacks are made foreign in the media, when this happens. Some (probably not very articulate) musings:

• I've been studying these kinds events for almost two years now, and after writing three papers on the subject and reading thousands of news articles and transcripts (which, I should mention, have driven me back into the arms of reality TV, if only for my own sanity), one big trend I'm noticing is that after one high-profile event (a major school shooting or an attack like the one on Fort Hood) there is almost always another attack, if not several more attacks, within a week. There were weeks in 2007 and 2008 when there were 3-4 shootings. Then none for months. The day after the Fort Hood attack there was a major rampage shooting in Orlando.
  
  Anyway, I think the copycat phenomenon is alive and well.
• Articles like this one annoy me to no end. All of a sudden, the military is "rethinking" Muslim soldiers? Really? Because William Kreutzer, ANOTHER soldier who opened fire on a military base, was a Christian... and so was Sgt. John Russell of the recent Camp Liberty shootings... to name two. But did those shootings somehow force the military to rethink Christian soldiers? No.
• The Fort Hood shooter was as American as I am. Relatively recent immigrant roots, but born here. Raised here. If someone with my ethnic and religious background (Italian, European, Christian, Protestant) committed this kind of attack, how would the narrative be different? I know it would be. I'm just more interested than ever in finishing my thesis. The topic has suddenly become more relevant than it was last week.

Should the Scots have their own Tundra Time Zone?

As summer kicks in in the Antipodes the combination of grimmer oop north weather and the changing of the clocks has Pub Philosopher grumpy. Does it make sense for the UK to align with the rest of Europe in time zone?

Pitch dark by 5 o'clock today.

I've said all I'm going to say about the annual stupidity of putting the clocks back to daylight wasting time. The case for keeping our clocks one hour ahead of the sun in winter is overwhelming. Our lives are different from those of our ancestors. We get up later and go to bed later.

As Sir Alistair Horne said, if the Scots want to have their own Tundra Time, let them go ahead. Just don't drag the rest of us into the dark too.

The Last Ditch: Tom's day of heavenly peace

Tom has an interesting account of his first trip to Beijing and a chance to see some of the city.

I walked around the city for five hours. At several points, I paused to reflect how lucky I am to have such a life; to have the chance to visit the far-off places I dreamed of as a boy. My whole family has lived in one square mile of what is now Wales, probably, since prehistory. It seems to be my destiny to improve our averages when it comes to travel.

The Forbidden City was not quite what I expected. Yes, it's huge and impressive and oozes history. Yet it also feels rather sad. It's as if the Emperor had just walked away and no-one had quite decided what to do with it. Renovation of such a complex must be a huge burden. It covers 7.8 million square feet and comprises 980 buildings. It is a city within a city. A city that feels, in parts, abandoned and neglected. Some structures are quite dilapidated, although crews were working on others. The task of maintenance is eternal. While it's a "World Heritage Site" and rightly so, I can't help feeling it would be better put to use. Such wonderful spaces should be occupied and enjoyed, not just gawped at by the likes of me. The occupants would also pick up on minor repairs that would otherwise become major while waiting for scheduled maintenance.

It was crowded, particularly at entrance and exit where I was pressed closer to a mass of strangers than any Englishman can well endure (yet without ever feeling in danger, or worrying about my wallet). After a while, the masses de-merged into family groups and I could observe the Chinese at leisure. My main impression was of extended families. I saw some old people so thin and drawn that it was hard to believe they were mobile. Yet they were cheerfully led, or pushed around by their families and looked happy in their company. The welfare state in Britain has destroyed so much. Such skeletal specimens would be in a "home", out of sight and out of mind. Here they cheerfully chatted to the family's infants, who seemed completely relaxed (as they should be) in the company of the old and frail.

Basking happily in the bright sunshine in their leisure wear, many Chinese wore English slogans. I never understand why our language has such glamour for strangers. Apart from the usual brand names (paid for or otherwise) there were random English words. One lady had "Praisworthy" (sic) emblazoned on her blouse. I don't know why our scruffy leisure costume has been adopted at all. Traditional Chinese clothes are so much more attractive, but I only saw a few people - usually very old - wearing them. Even most of the very elderly sported trainers and jeans. I noticed the cheap and brightly coloured baseball hats handed out by tour organisers so they can recognise their flock in crowds were lined with the attractive check that Burberry has now pretty much had to abandon, so "common" has it become.

More here

Pauli Finds Out People Just Want To Have Fun

Thanks Pauli