Christian fundamentalism + Gainesville, Florida = words fail me… and please don’t say you didn’t know. Learn more for yourself about what passes for God’s love…

Sélestat, France

I’m reminiscing and mourning the loss tonight of the renowned German typographer and graphic designer Kurt Weidemann, who passed on yesterday. I was looking forward to visiting him in his Stuttgart studio ‘Stellwerk Atelier’ with my colleague Adrian Letzner in early May… looks like we’ll need to wait to ‘bend an elbow’ with the great man until we cross paths in the next dimension. Fond memories of an evening spent with Kurt in Essen, 2004…

Learn more about Kurt, who spent a decade breaking rocks as a Russian prisoner of war (from 1940-1950) before beginning his apprenticeship as a typographer, (in German) here; a brief bio (in English) here.

Worldwide Alerts

With the intent of sharing a bit of bile humour, yet with the attendant and inevitable risk of offending some (I apologize in advance), here’s a piece attributed to John Cleese, sent to me by designer friend Lorna Williams:

The English are feeling the pinch in relation to recent terrorist threats and have therefore raised their security level from “Miffed” to “Peeved.” Soon, though, security levels may be raised yet again to “Irritated” or even “A Bit Cross.” The English have not been “A Bit Cross” since the blitz in 1940 when tea supplies nearly ran out. Terrorists have been re-categorized from “Tiresome” to “A Bloody Nuisance.” The last time the British issued a “Bloody Nuisance” warning level was in 1588, when threatened by the Spanish Armada.

The Scots have raised their threat level from “Pissed Off” to “Let’s get the Bastards.” They don’t have any other levels. This is the reason they have been used on the front line of the British army for the last 300 years.

The French government announced yesterday that it has raised its terror alert level from “Run” to “Hide.” The only two higher levels in France are “Collaborate” and “Surrender.” The rise was precipitated by a recent fire that destroyed France’s white flag factory, effectively paralyzing the country’s military capability.

Italy has increased the alert level from “Shout Loudly and Excitedly” to “Elaborate Military Posturing.” Two more levels remain: “Ineffective Combat Operations” and “Change Sides.”

The Germans have increased their alert state from “Disdainful Arrogance” to “Dress in Uniform and Sing Marching Songs.” They also have two higher levels: “Invade a Neighbor” and “Lose.”

Belgians, on the other hand, are all on holiday as usual; the only threat they are worried about is NATO pulling out of Brussels.

The Spanish are all excited to see their new submarines ready to deploy. These beautifully designed subs have glass bottoms so the new Spanish navy can get a really good look at the old Spanish navy.

Americans, as usual, are carrying out preemptive strikes on all of their allies “just in case.”

Australia, meanwhile, has raised its security level from “No worries” to “She’ll be alright, Mate.” Two more escalation levels remain: “Crikey! I think we’ll need to cancel the barbie this weekend!” and “The barbie is canceled.” So far no situation has ever warranted use of the final escalation level.

And finally… Canada is at the “That’s not nice and please stop” threat level, and has passed a bill in the House of Commons to never raise the level any higher so not to offend the terrorists.

Tuesday once again… and yet more inspired lines from the great Rumi…
Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Balkhī, جلالالدین محمد بلخى

+++

Cease looking for flowers,
there blooms a garden in your own home.

+++

O Sun, fill our house once more with light!
Make happy all your friends and blind your foes!
Rise from behind the hill, transform the stones
To rubies and the sour grapes to wine!
O Sun, make our vineyard fresh again,
And fill the steppes with houris and green cloaks!
Physician of the lovers, heaven’s lamp!
Rescue the lovers! Help the suffering!
Show but your face—the world is filled with light!
But if you cover it, it’s the darkest night!

+++

Thirst drove me down to the water
where I drank the moon’s reflection.

+++

Come to the orchid in Spring.
There is light and wine, and sweethearts
in the pomegranate flowers.
If you do not come, these do not matter.
If you do come, these do not matter.

+++

I was a tiny bug. Now a mountain.
I was left behind. Now honored at the head.
You healed my wounded hunger and anger,
and made me a poet who sings about joy.

+++

I have a thirsty fish in me
that can never find enough
of what it’s thirsty for!

+++

We are the night ocean filled
With glints of light. We are the space
Between the fish and the moon,
While we sit here together.

+++

O heart, what a wonderful bird you are.
Seeking divine heights,
Flapping your wings,
you smashed the pointed spears of your enemy.

+++

I will soothe you and heal you.
I will bring you roses.
I too have been covered with thorns.

+++

Here is a letter to everyone.
You open it. It says, “Live!”

Happy Nowruz (new day) to all my Persian, Kurdish, and Turkish friends, and Happy New Year to colleagues throughout the Indian sub-continent! Best wishes on this first day of Spring (astronomical vernal equinox) to all others in the northern hemisphere…

Did you hear that winter’s over? The basil

and the carnations cannot control their

laughter. The nightingale, back from his

wandering, has been made singing master

over the birds. The trees reach out their

congratulations. The soul goes dancing

through the king’s doorway. Anemones blush

because they have seen the rose naked.

Spring, the only fair judge, walks in the

courtroom, and several December thieves steal

away, Last year’s miracles will soon be

forgotten. New creatures whirl in from non-

existence, galaxies scattered around their

feet. Have you met them? Do you hear the

bud of Jesus crooning in the cradle? A single

narcissus flower has been appointed Inspector

of Kingdoms. A feast is set. Listen: the

wind is pouring wine! Love used to hide

inside images: no more! The orchard hangs

out its lanterns. The dead come stumbling by

in shrouds. Nothing can stay bound or be

imprisoned. You say, “End this poem here,

and wait for what’s next.” I will. Poems

are rough notations for the music we are.

—Rumi (The Music We Are)

Previous posts about Nowruz (aka Norooz, Norouz, Newroz, Newrooz) here.

Canberra, Australia

Doug Jackson is an educator and security consultant with over 25 years of electronics and computing experience. Some years back, he designed the Word Clock as a project to help educate others about simple electronic design and construction, empowering them to “do the things they dream of.” Shown above are a few pics from Doug’s website where he generously offers various pre-constructed and tested clock modules as well as design files and manuals. Good on you, Doug!

Thanks to friend Bruce Hildebrand (who knows how much I like clocks) for providing me with the link to Word Clock.

(a re-post… from 2008)

Not to get weird about it, but the Ides of March have freaked me out ever since I first learned of them in elementary school. In the year 44 BC this day marked the treacherous demise of Julius Caesar (I’m not making a value judgment here, it’s just a historical thing); in 1917 it was the day that the last tzar of Russia, Nicholas ll, was forced to abdicate the throne (three years before my dad was born into the turmoil of Molotchna, and part of the remarkable unrest following WWI); in 1933 it was the day that Adolf Hitler first expressed his nascent dream of The Third Reich (and six years later to the day that Nazi troops invaded Bohemia and Moravia [then Czechoslovakia]).

More recently, it was the single day in history that more people on the face of the earth than ever before gathered together in a unified action for peace (400,000 marched in Milan, 300,000 in Barcelona, 120,000 in Madrid, you get the picture… )—to no avail, George W. Bush simultaneously prepared to lead the (bullied, cowed, coerced) “coalition of the willing” nations into the U.S. empire’s most recent war against Iraq.

It remains a poignant day for me… five years ago today I was in Mumbai, India on a network-building sortie with Icograda—six days later while in Ahmedabad (Mahatma Gandhi’s home town), we watched in surreal disbelief as the U.S. reigned down an unprovoked firestorm on the ancient city of Baghdad (one of the the world’s “cradles of civilization,” and onto its hundreds of thousands of terrified citizens).

Indeed, beware the Ides of March… (don’t say I didn’t warn you).

Images: Caesar’s demise as painted by Vincenzo Camuccini; Tsar Nicholas ll of Russia; Adolf Hitler of Germany; George W. Bush of the U.S. of America.

Tehran, Iran

Leave the Basiji bullet in my heart,
fall to prayer in my blood,
and hush, father
—I am not dead.

More light than mass,
I flood through you,
breathe with your eyes,
stand in your shoes, on the rooftops,
in the streets, march with you
in the cities and villages of our country
shouting through you, with you.

I am Neda—thunder on your tongue.

—poem by Sholeh Wolpe

On 20 June 2009, Neda Agha Soltan, a 26-year-old Iranian woman and a student of philosophy who was attending a demonstration in Tehran protesting the vote-count fraud was shot in the heart by a Basiji hiding on the rooftop of a civilian house. In the jittery cell phone video of a bystander who captured her murder, we hear her father wailing her name, begging her to stay, not to leave… as blood gushes from her chest and streams out of her mouth.

The name Neda in Persian means “The call.” And the call continues…

—George Orwell (aka Eric Arthur Blair) with a nod to Wikileaks…