Friday, 24 June 2011

Advertising really works. It also really costs.

Joshua was watching me clean the loo earlier this week.
"Is that Harvic power plus?", he asked.
"Uh, yes sweetheart."  (I decided not to pick up on his mispronunciation of 'Harpic'.)
"I thought it was", he stated matter-of-factly.  "I saw it on the telly and I thought it was a good thing to buy".
"Why's it a good thing to buy sweety?", I asked.
"Because", (and at this point, he made a sweeping motion with his arm as though squirting toilet cleaner around the bowl) "it kills all the germs."

It's not surprising that people spend money on advertising.  It actually works.
Did you know that in the year 2000 (sorry, old stats) approximately £309 billion was spent on advertising.
Which, when you compare this with the fact that:
"It is estimated that the additional cost of achieving and maintaining universal access to basic education· for all, basic health care for all, reproductive health care for all women, adequate food for all and safe water and sanitation for all is roughly $40 billion a year."  (From UN Human Development Report '98)  Oh, and while we're on numbers, that's the same amount that we spend on a combination of ice cream in Europe and perfumes and pet food in Europe and the US (11bn, 12bn and 17bn respectively)
Oh, and some final rich-poor stats (sorry, I've been distracted from my funny story by scary stats)
"The three richest people have assets that exceed the combined GDP of the 48 least developed countries.
• The 15 richest have assets that exceed the total GDP of Sub-Saharan Africa.
• The wealth of the 32 richest people exceeds the total GDP of South Asia.
• The assets of the 84 richest exceed the GDP of China, the most populous country, with 1.2 billion inhabitants."
(Same source - http://hdr.undp.org/en/media/hdr_1998_en_chap1.pdf)
So, 84 people have more assets than the GDP of one sixth of the world.  Nice.
Sorry - this was a funny story to start with, and now you're feeling bad about the rich-poor divide.  Oh well, that's life...

Sunday, 19 June 2011

Happy Fathers' Day.

If Joshua and I had had a conversation at six o'clock this morning, it might have started a little like this:
J:  Hello Father.  Allow me to wish you the happiest of days on this auspicious occasion - Fathers day is a day which I celebrate with immense gratitude.  Indeed, look:  as a small token of my undying love for you, father, I have chosen to wake you with the sounds of me depositing the contents of my stomach all over my bed.
Me:  The mere sight of you, my darling son, brightens my morning.  I love you more and more each day, and even now I am relishing the prospect of stripping the bed, putting everything in the washing machine, remaking the bed and wiping down the wall.  I live to serve you.
As it happens, there wasn't much talk at all.  Just me waking to the sounds of coughing, followed by wretching, followed by crying [his tears, not mine!]  On the plus side, he didn't get up (again) until his light-that-comes-on-to-signify-the-time-for-rising came on.  And when he did get up, he went straight to the lounge to play, allowing me to drift back to sleep again.  So, if you forget about the 5.30, 'my tummy hurts' and the 6.00 'oh look, that's what I had for dinner'(and accompanying cleanup operation), you could almost say that I had a lie-in this morning :)
Thankfully, the first time he puked today was also the only time (I say that with some caution, looking at the clock on my computer and recognising there's still time...).  He's been a bit 'off-colour' today, and even had an afternoon nap, which hasn't happened for yonks, but generally he seems to have mainly recovered.  He even played a bit of footy at lunch time (though avoided eating any lunch). 
Yesterday, however, was the other side of Fathering.  'Daddy, can I do some craft?  I want to make you another card for Fathers' Day' (there was already one in his book bag from school).  Whilst picking things from his craft box, he found a heart and said, 'I'm sticking this on the card, because I love you.'  Wow.  Life doesn't get much better than that, does it?
So, thank you to my son and my wife for giving me the joy of Fatherhood.  Thank you to dad for being an amazing father.  And thank you God for being my son's father, my father and my dad's father. 

Tuesday, 7 June 2011

Feed my sheep.

Yesterday the church toddler group had an outing.  We went to Highfields Happy Hens.  It's a great farm not far from here. It's run by a Christian couple who do loads of work with young people at risk of exclusion, young offenders and the like.  By all accounts, they do a marvellous job of it, and the chap was awarded an MBE at the beginning of the year for the work they do!  One of the highlights of the trip is always feeding the animals.  There are two types of feed - bags for two-legged and bags for four-legged creatures.  Despite the number of legs he's got, I couldn't persuade Joshua to eat the two-legged feed.  He opted for an ice-lolly instead.

This second picture is him slightly offended by the fact that he's just had his ear licked by one of the lambs as he was bending down by their pen.  You'll notice the lambs are all avoiding eye-contact, and no-one's owning up to the crime.  Typical of the young!
Anyway, we had a fab time.  You can also go and pick your own eggs from one of the laying sheds.  Always fun, but really smelly.  I mean, REALLY smelly.  Stifling.  Like you're in there thinking, 'maybe it wouldn't actually be so bad if I never breathed again'.  But we did get a dozen eggs out of it...
And it's great to see a Christian couple really 'walking the walk' in such a public service.
Oh, and another thought.  Should we, as 'sheep', be more willing to feed with such eagerness as the little lambs we met yesterday?...

Monday, 6 June 2011

So much to say...

Where to start?  I've got a bigger-than-ever backlog of photos which are supposed to be going on this (and the other) blog(s).  I'll start with these ones:

It's yet another trip to the ever-delightful Calke Abbey.  (We're saving a fortune by being National Trust members!)  In fact, I think there might even be pictures of this stump elsewhere on this blog - I know it's a favourite.
This time, however...
 We went for the humour...
 Pretty deep, this hole ... going ...
 ... going ...
 ... gone ... (well, almost!)

Then Joshua took a couple of pics.  I think this is my fave:
Me and my lovely lady wife.  Ok, so the picture's not exactly straight, but it's a nice corner of the gardens that we'd never been to before.   And there aren't many such corners left, given our frequent trips!
More pics and news later...

Tuesday, 3 May 2011

Well, what do I think about it?

We've all been inundated with the news of Osama's death.  Frankly, you may well be bored of hearing about it.  If so, don't read this :)
First up, I wish people would learn to pronounce Abbottabad. Given it's named after a British bloke by the name of 'Abbott', that gives a hint as to the pronunciation.  I know it's not always easy, but checking Wikipedia would probably do the trick...
Second, there's the whole, 'did the Pakistanis know that he was there?'.  Well, it's certainly a fair question I suppose, but it's also a bit daft.  It makes it sound like he was popping down the road to the chip shop every week, and managed to do so unnoticed (well, popping to the chai shop in the local bazaar would probably be a more likely scenario than the chip shop...)  When you think of major criminals being found, you rarely get the neighbours saying, 'oh yeah, we knew they'd been living there for ages'.  I know that's a slightly different case, because you don't know the identity of the criminal in such cases, but the fact remains that if the person next door doesn't want you to know who they are, you probably won't find out.  There are also plenty of elderly people in Pakistan who are cared for in the family home (much more likely than the 'care homes' we send old folk off to in the West) who you would never see.  So if you're wondering why the people next door seem to be buying extra food etc., they could merrily tell you they're looking after their sick aunt/elderly parents etc.  In a country where people are routinely in 'purdah', it's not difficult to hide someone in a house.  What's more, the walls were pretty immense, the windows pretty small, and, I imagine, the occupants fairly careful!
There's also the question of justice.  I think at the moment that I'm inclined to think that this is justice at least on one level.  If he really did declare war on the States, and was responsible for launching attacks, then he is, in effect, a combatant and therefore subject to the rules of war, which may include being killed.  It's not like he'd renounced his terrorist ideals and they hunted him down and shot him anyway.
Then there's the future.  What of it.  Well, a terrorist organisation is not like an animal that can be killed by decapitation.  Rather, it's more like a prolific weed (take Japanese knotweed as an example, if you want one).  The weed grows wherever the roots are in the soil.  Likewise, to deal with the terrorist organisation, you can't just take a strimmer to it and chop it down, you've got to dig it up.  That means more of a 'hearts and minds' approach.  (I hate that phrase in some respects, because it can smack of imperialism/colonialism 'they're all just a bit dim and need to be enlightened in the Western way of doing things' mindset, which is arrogant and wrong). In fact, doing something like killing Osama can end up being more like pruning than weeding.  The cause of the problem needs to be addressed.  I, for one, wonder if we've ever thought to ask people what their problem is.  Is it Palestine?  Well, fair point, we do seem to allow Israel to contravene whatever it likes...  Is it our historical raping of their countries' resources and wealth?  Another fair point.  Maybe we could talk about it though, and sort out mutually beneficial trade deals rather than shooting each other (it's less messy psychologically) as a means of restoring the parity. 
And of course, there's also the question of what happens to my beloved Pakistan.  Well, people are already accusing it left, right and centre of harbouring terrorists, though I've explained why I think it's not so clear cut already.  And OF COURSE there were people who knew he was there.  He'd have got mighty hungry if there weren't, but they were in the minority.  And it's over now anyway (that bit of it, at least...)  So Pakistan will be dragged through the mud again, and, however untrue accusations are, some mud will always stick.  And what of the safety of people there.  Well, that's been rather compromised.  The Christian community especially (in the minds of many Pakistanis, allied with the West) are likely to face, at the very least, increased persecution and vilification from some quarters.  My hope would be that the moderate Muslims are willing and able to make the most of the opportunity that has been presented to them.  There has been ample time for Islamic extremism to make its mark on the world, and on the attitudes of many people to Islam itself.  Perhaps some will now take the chance to redefine Islam in the eyes of the world.  The moderates don't need to change their message, they just need to speak a little louder.
Finally, there's the celebration of Osama's death.  Here, the West and in particular America, has failed.  How can we criticise the jubilation among Muslim groups following terrorist strikes, if we then celebrate with even greater aplomb the killing of one man?  Yes, a sense of relief is understandable, a sense of justice is probably also wise, but I'm just not so sure about the jubilation.  It's not like the war is over.  In fact, given the splintering down of many of the groups involved, it's hugely symbolic, but I'm not convinced it's much else. 
I guess now the challenge is to keep praying, and seeking to support those in areas of conflict.  Seeking also to understand those who seek to wrong us, and ensure that they have no cause to do so.
That's a few of my thoughts.  By no means all of them, and by no means are they set in stone.  Just a sort of initial response...

Saturday, 30 April 2011

The trouble with being sanctimonious...

The scene is youth group on Wednesday night.
We've just begun the 'CY' (Christianity Explored for youth) series and the first question is:
"If you could ask God one question, and you knew it would be answered, what would it be?"
Well, everyone has their own booklet, so we started with all the young people writing their 'question for God' in their booklets.  There are a couple of tough things we're dealing with at church at the moment, and I was sat there wondering what everyone was going to be writing.  The lad next to me kept glancing my way and I started imagining what he was in the middle of writing.  I figured it was something that he wasn't quite sure of, and I couldn't work out whether I'd need to go for the reassuring, hand-on-the-shoulder-whilst-nodding-and-furrowing-ones-brow approach, probably topping it off with a bit of a deep sigh.  I also wasn't sure whether he was wanting me to look over and read it, or whether he was trying to keep it to himself.  (I thought a lot in the seconds we had!)  I decided that, despite his continued glances my way, I'd remain eyes-front and wait to do the helpful-youth-leader-thing when he actually read out his answer (if, indeed, he plucked up the courage to vocalise what was, I was by now sure, a deep and probably painfully searching question).
We went around the circle, and others asked questions along the lines of, 'why are we here?', and other such classics.  And we came to the lad next to me.  "What's your question then?" the leader asked him.  I'd still managed to resist the temptation to read over his shoulder (it was going to make my response so much more real and heartfelt).  I braced myself - poised to react.  He spoke - the question he'd ask God in full certainty that he'd receive an answer:
"God, what's your favourite football team?"

A little idea.

Just thought I'd share this one with you...
I hope you can see it clearly enough.  Joshua and I went shopping (this was ages ago - I'm a bit behind on the old blog-thing) and I thought I'd get him a bit more involved, so he had to find all these things.  My list was, sadly, much longer than his, but he did seem to enjoy it.  (There were six pictures on the other side of the bit of paper too, but I figured you'd get the picture (!) without seeing both sides - besides, the other pictures were even worse than these ones...)
Just a little idea for shopping trips :)
And you're probably thinking you don't have time to be drawing things for a shopping list, but if it's a choice between a pleasant shopping experience, and one where you end up wishing death upon everyone within a 200 metre radius, you'll make the time for the drawings!