Myopic Vision

It is refreshing to know that good judgement and common sense still prevails in the courts in Britain. I’m referring here to the case of Shabina Begum, the young Muslim girl who took her school, Denbigh High School in Luton, to court over their refusal to allow her to wear a full length Islamic dress called a jilbab. Her claim was that the school acted in "violation of her human rights and denied her right to education". The Law Lords in Britain’s highest court ruled in favour of the school and rightly so. Had the decision been in favour of Shabina, it would force every school in Britain to allow their pupils to dictate to them, what dress code is appropriate for their religion. Further more, it would seriously undermine the authority of schools and be a huge victory for radical religious groups. This case had very little to do with human rights or the right to practice one's religion. It was merely another example of radical thinkers trying to enforce their rule in a sec

Happy Anniversary Mr. President! It’s been three years since you marched your forces into Iraq to rid them of a tyrannical, pompous despot called Saddam. You also filled them with hope about a life of peace, stability and more importantly liberty. Three years on and who would have imagined that you’d still be there? The promises you made are worthless and a far cry from the reality that grips the nation of Iraq today. Bit by bit, you have milked her dry, not just of her resources, but you’ve also managed to strip her of every ounce of dignity she possesses. From a once resourceful beautiful princess, you have reduced her to nothing more than a common whore. And you just keep taking and taking from her. You must be mighty pleased with yourself. Perhaps we underestimated your stupidity and over-estimated your intelligence. Or were it the reverse? Did we underestimate your intelligence, your shrewdness? It’s difficult to tell. Alas! The light that shines on the truth is a flickering and d

You have got to feel sorry for those 6 men who are now lying in a hospital, two of them, I believe, in a critical condition. They were human guinea pigs in a drug test that went horribly wrong. I can't comment on why things went so wrong for this particular experiment, as my information, comes from the same sources as most peoples, namely the media. No doubt investigations are under way and questions are being raised about the manner in which the trial was conducted and why things went so horribly pear shaped. I feel for these men and their families because they have an agonising journey of uncertainty, which will carry on long after this story fades off the news radar. The drug that they were trialling does not have a name yet, it is simply calledTGN 1412 which is one in series of drugs that scientists hoped would be a cure for a number of diseases including cancer. Unfortunately the whole thing had a catastrophic outcome and it has once again raised the debate on human and animal

I came across a newspaper article recently which talked about how toddlers at the Sure Start nursery in Oxfordshire are being taught a revised, politically correct version of an old nursery rhyme. Instead of "Baa,Baa, black sheep", the children now ask the "Rainbow Sheep" if the gender non-specific animal, has any wool. I couldn't help roll my eyes in disgust as I though here we go again, yet another classic example of Political Correctness gone mad. Over the last few months, all we seem to read about has to do with being politically correct. Christmas is now the "Festive Season", Christmas lights are now "Winter Lights", Chairman and Chairwomen are now "Chairpersons", Short is now "vertically challenged", Piggy banks are now to be replaced by "money banks", Black coffee is now "coffee without milk", Mixed race is now "dual heritage", the list is endless. All this, because of the fear that it,

If there is one person I've always had a MASSIVE CRUSH on, it's been Ol' Blue Eyes himself, Mr. Frank Sinatra. My Dad first introduced me to his music as a young girl and I've been smitten ever since. There is just something in his charming smile, the twinkling of his eyes, that breathtakingly rich voice that that makes me go weak at the knees, and generally gush like most teenaged girls do. The problem is that: a): I am no longer a teenager and b): Sinatra is no longer among the living (well at least not physically anyways). Yet, despite the obvious obstacle, my love for him has not diminished. Of course my dream of seeing him perform live was shattered the day he died in 1998. But, when I was given the opportunity to see Sinatra at the Palladium yesterday, I seized it with a great degree of enthusiasm. You must think I've truly lost the plot now. See Sinatra at the Palladium, but how? He's dead. Well, thanks to the ground-breaking and creative use of the lates

I saw a teenager on the bus this morning. She seemed as "Happy as Larry" and was smiling and singing along to the tunes on her i-pod. She was drop dead gorgeous with a slim, petite frame, beautiful wide set eyes and a smile, full of the warmth of the summer sun. She was perfect in all aspects except one - she was missing an arm. But, as she smiled at me, I realised, that while she may have lacked physical perfection, she had something that most of us could only envy. She had a supreme appreciation of the elementary joys of life, something I had long forgotten. And in that flashing instant, I was humbled. Ever since that chance encounter this morning, I've been forced to sit back and reminisce on the many blessings in life. I'm embarrassed to say, that I've taken a lot of things for granted and have failed miserably in the fine art of acknowledging life's little pleasures. We've all experienced tender moments like singing in the rain, being among people we