Monthly Archives: November 2015

A complicated equation

If a complicated equation of probability determined that life was meant to exist, why would life itself decide to exaggerate suffering and predetermine death?

If the deaf can no longer hear and the blind can no longer see, whose voice will speak for those who see and hear more than they can endure?

If all things were certain, I might or might not agree with you?  That possibility lies outside the fabric of my finite mind.

If we really listen, we will hear the cries.  If we really see, we will understand the pain.  If we speak out, in an effort to change our preexisting notions on the equation of life and death, we might make a difference.

We might be left with a fuller understanding of the importance of life.

We might understand suffering.

We might see the finality of death.

We might be able to live together.

If a complicated equation of probability determined that life was meant to exist, why would life itself decide to exaggerate suffering and predetermine death?




Our tears will travel.

Our tears will travel and fall as rain on the terrible scenes of grief that will envelop Paris in the coming days.  The tragic loss of a life that was so precious.  The personal trauma of losing a life that would be.  The broken family.  The chasm that is created by grief.

Our tears will travel and embrace the friends and families of all those who are left facing the tragedy of a sudden and inexplicable loss.  We will hold you in our hands, pray for you in our thoughts and direct every heartbeat to send you our deepest love.

And when the certainty of our faith is finally defined by the final arbiter of what faith means?  Our tears will travel again and cry unceasingly for the errors that certainty wrought.


We are all trying to imagine what might equate to History in a new, newer Northern Ireland, without actually agreeing on a definitive line that demarcates History from the present.  This whole conversation is defined as, ‘legacy.’

When we first scratch the surface, we will allow our nails to do the talking.  When our fingertips touch, the electric shock will send us back to 1999.  When we hold our palms together in a common prayer, the talking will really begin.  When we finally shake hands, we will be able to fully empathise, fully comprehend and fully engage in a ‘shared’ today, one that understands the necessity of studying History as a discipline, rather than holding History as an anchor that halts our progress as a society.

At an indefinite point in the not too distant future, History will define itself as the past.

Uncomfortable conversations.

One version of me never expected the chasm that could be created by a sudden loss.  Another version of me imagined the chaos that would ensue, if all eventualities were equally probable and it proved implausible to run away from every omen.  The black cat can’t smile on us all.

I think that life twists the mind and clouds the judgement of every individual who has vision.  We are not immediately gifted with foresight or hindsight.  We just interpret the world through the data that presents itself, in the light of all that has been, remembering what we can’t remember, forgetting what we should remember, whilst hoping that our inner truth distillation process continues to prove effective.

Uncomfortable conversations exist to make us think.

We have much to think about.


Willy Wonka’s Golden Ticket.

I have just landed on Planet Cuckoo and I have had an interesting conversation with the Puffin related Government.  (‘puffed up’ and ready to act on all of the available data)

‘Mr Wonka.’  (That’s me.)  ‘I would just like to explain how our data analysts have searched exhaustively for a solution to the educational conundrum that frequently depicts our underachievement in relation to world comparisons.’

‘Please do tell.’  (That’s me.)

‘We have equated underperformance with a previous analysis and have discovered that the analysis itself is flawed.  We need to build further testing into the curriculum to ensure that we have adequate scores to analyse the problem that our prior evaluation already detected.’

‘Might it be that the original model already underlined the fact that we may have to build a different model?’  (That’s me.)

‘No.  For now.  I think we should exhaust our evaluation of previous models to ensure that we didn’t miss something.  At this point, as it is not absolutely certain that our prior plans failed, we need to stick to our guns.  Parents love testing.  Tables love testing.  Governments love determining plans based on testing.’

‘What if it was found that the development of the child is maximised by educational exploration, an exploration that over testing prevents?  What if we energised our curriculum by revising the criteria by which we determine success?  What if we really learned what learning really is?  An exploration of all of the uncertainties that engage the mind and motivate the feet as they walk into the unknown.  There is no way that we can build an adequate educational model that is simply based on testing.’

‘Parents love testing.  Tables love testing.  Evaluations love testing.  Governments love determining plans based on testing.’

‘What if we had an open discussion on education that wasn’t based on imagined lessons determined by a fixed notion?’

‘Impossible.  In relation to a thorough evaluation, a fixed starting point must determine the evaluation of the accumulated data.  An arranged hypothesis, one that fully justifies future policy.’

‘What if there are those who can’t determine and rearrange their life to correlate to the fixed points that determine the evaluation of accumulated data?’

‘That happens.  It has always happened.  What we need is more testing to ensure that we can prove that they have added value to the proposed educational dynamic, a dynamic that ensures forward momentum, one that can be proven to succeed, according to the best available data analysis.’

‘What if the proposed educational grid predetermines failure?  What is education?  It should be a never-ending exploration of self that shouldn’t be constricted by the politically driven disposition that equates success with results?’

‘Idealistic nonsense!’

If only my eyes could determine the future direction of every foot that has touched this planet?  I would emphasise the exploratory fun of learning something new, devoid of the endless criteria that constricts the breath of being alive and having our own individual choices, of choosing a path that doesn’t fit into every analysis, a uniqueness that is bestowed upon every birth.  A life that can be fulfilled.

A Golden Ticket that can be found.