#or I really like the shape of 'we built this city on coal and gold'

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: August 17

“The Grand Experiment” by Doomtree

[berniesrevolution]

JACOBIN MAGAZINE

American culture is saturated with the idea that public housing is inevitably and uniformly grim — not so much a place to live as a place to lay your head while you plot your escape, or to simply resign yourself to paralyzing poverty and social invisibility forever.

The impression of public housing as dull, dilapidated, and dangerous has always worked in favor of those who would rather there be no public housing at all. Private real-estate developers, landlords, banks, and assorted wealthy people who don’t like paying taxes benefit enormously from our pessimism and lack of imagination. It galls and frightens them that we might someday start to view public housing not as emergency aid for the most destitute, but as an ambitious long-term solution and preferable alternative to the atomization, insecurity, and relentless exploitation of the private housing market — that is, that we might build public housing so attractive that people wouldn’t want to take out mortgages or pay market-rate rent anymore.

So they would rather we didn’t find out about Red Vienna, or Le Lorrain in Brussels, or Sa Pobla in Mallorca, or even the heyday of British council housing. These projects past and present demonstrate that social housing can be vibrant, safe and beautiful, all while being affordable and reliable for ordinary working people.

1. Red Vienna

To capitalists whose profits depend on extracting as much value from land and shelter as possible, raised expectations for what public housing can accomplish are an existential threat. And nothing raises those expectations quicker and higher than familiarity with Red Vienna, the paragon of social housing in modern history.

Unsurprisingly, the massive undertaking to build decommodified housing for the city’s residents was spearheaded by socialists. A robust labor movement with socialist leadership had established itself in Austria during industrialization in the late ninteenth century, but socialism really came into its own after the First World War, when the collapse of the Austro-Hungarian monarchy created new political openings. In Vienna, the Social Democratic Workers Party came to power in 1919 and immediately set about implementing an ambitious reform program.

The socialist city government imposed heavy taxes on the wealthy and, starting in 1923, used new revenue to replace its overcrowded and drab working-class slums with modern public housing. Because these were built by socialists with a vision for decommodifying shelter entirely and with a political allegiance to the city’s working class, they weren’t begrudging bare-bones offerings. Far from it, they were high-concept, masterfully-built edifices, many of which have stood the test of time. Their construction doubled as a good unionized public jobs program, helping the economy recover after the war.

Red Vienna’s social housing was designed not just as a place for workers to recharge between shifts — what Barbara Ehrenreich has aptly called “canned labor” — but as a place to live. The majestic apartment buildings featured leafy courtyards, copious open space, and plenty of natural light. They had well-equipped shared laundries and communal state-of-the-art kitchen facilities. They were connected to, and sometimes contained within them, public schools and cooperative stores. Many even had bathhouses and swimming pools, healthcare and childcare centers, pharmacies, post offices, and libraries on the premises.

The largest apartment block in Red Vienna, Karl Marx-Hof, was used as a fortress against militant fascists in the lead-up to the Second World War. The socialists put up a valiant resistance, but in time Red Vienna fell to the fascists. Even so, the city retained the memory of beautiful social housing: for residents of Vienna, the illusion that shelter had to be either private or subpar had been forever shattered. Vienna continued to build desirable social housing after the war, and today 62 percent of the city’s residents live in social housing, compared to 5 percent in New York City.

“We have an old idea here that not only rich people should live in good conditions,” says one 52-year-old social housing resident in Vienna. “It’s an important idea and we should hold onto it.”

2. British Council Housing

In 1979, 42 percent of Brits lived in public housing. The big and bold postwar British public housing system wasn’t a telltale sign or symptom of widespread immiseration. Instead it was the fruit of a century of reformers’ visions and working-class struggles. Some council estates were modest, while others — like the charming, eccentric turn-of-the-century Boundary Street Estate, or the striking modernist buildings designed by communist architect Berthold Lubetkin — were carefully planned for maximum livability and architectural allure.

British social housing was funded through progressive taxation, an arrangement that social democrats justified by pointing out that public housing tenants performed the labor that made large personal fortunes possible. Naturally, this never sat well with the domestic ruling class. So when a global recession in 1973 caused a crack in the foundation of the economic system, capitalists and their political allies leapt at the opportunity. Deliberate underfunding of the housing projects —  rationalized as a consequence of unavoidable recession-era belt-tightening — began in the 1970s, followed by a full-on privatization scheme in the 1980s.

When Thatcher came to power in 1979, she swiftly passed legislation allowing tenants to buy and eventually sell their council flats — a clever way of absorbing the publicly-furnished housing stock into the private sector and reestablishing the supremacy of capitalist markets. Low-income tenants have been subjected to steadily disappearing protections and increasing rents ever since.

As shelter costs creep up on earnings across the UK, many who grew up in public council housing are nostalgic for a time when working-class tenants were protected from the vagaries of the private rental market. They remember their council-house upbringings fondly. “You practically knew every kid that was here, and you always had someone to play with,” recalls one woman who grew up in the Quaker Court Estate in London. “The parents got on brilliantly as well. If one of you was having a party, the whole lot of you would go.”

“We had an idyllic childhood,” says another, who grew up in the Boundary Street Estate in London — the city’s oldest social housing project, born on the heels of the Housing of the Working Classes Act of 1885. “We really did. I mean, it seems strange to say that now.”

A man who grew up in the Heygate Estate in London recalls that he “loved it here… I remember being dazzled by the whiteness of the fitted kitchens, and the stairwells seemed to head to heaven, and away from the slate-grey streets below. This was the modern world, and it was ours for the taking.”

Austerity drove many estates into disrepair in the late twentieth century, and Thatcher’s ongoing right-to-buy scheme continues to privatize what remains.

Only 8 percent of Brits live in public housing today, but they still have a stronger intuition about social housing than Americans do. Jeremy Corbyn’s Labour Party has recently proposed an ambitious new social housing initiative, and it’s been received with an enthusiasm that’s difficult — though not impossible — to imagine in the United States.

3. Spain’s Architecturally Adventurous Housing Projects

Though privatization and austerity are on the march everywhere, the social-democratic legacy of high-quality public housing hasn’t entirely evaporated. Particularly in Europe, there are a handful of recent developments that draw inspiration from the projects of the past — particularly their architectural legacy.

Spain has recently taken up the mantle, and has turned its public housing program into an opportunity for architectural experimentation. In Madrid, the Mirador housing project features a large open space in the middle of the vertical building that doubles as a communal plaza, while the Carabanchel Social Housing project is heavy on bamboo and the 120 Parla project has a retro-futuristic appearance. In Barcelona, the Torre Plaça Europa looks identical to a pricey condo building in London or New York City — same with the Parc Central Social Housing Building in Valencia. The Sa Pobla project in Mallorca looks like something a movie star would rent out for an Instagrammable vacation, and social housing for mineworkers in Asturias is a geometric novelty, inspired in color and shape by the coal that the miners extract.

But Spain is not run by socialists, and while the architecture of these new social housing projects upends the idea that poor people should live in ugly and boring buildings, the projects leave some things to be desired. These buildings are often located on the peripheries of cities, where land is cheaper — for a reason, since these areas are underdeveloped and remote. Building social housing on the outskirts tends to segregate working-class tenants and burden them with costly and time-consuming travel, a mistake also made by the otherwise relatively successful Swedish miljonprogrammet, or Million Program. Fashionable buildings are an improvement, but ultimately unsatisfactory if there aren’t shops or schools nearby.

Imagine these buildings in vibrant city centers and you’ll have an idea of what social housing can actually achieve. Better yet, imagine them in bustling neighborhoods and equipped with their own publicly-run pharmacies and daycares. Now you see why Red Vienna remains the social housing gold standard, in terms of real value to working-class tenants.

4. Savonnerie Heymans and Le Lorrain, Brussels

Brussels has given Spain a run for its money in recent years. Two developments in particular — Savonnerie Heymans and Le Lorrain — are shining examples of social housing architecture.

Savonnerie Heymans, named after the soap factory that used to occupy the site, is less than half a mile from Brussels’ central square. It comprises dozens of units of varying types — studios, lofts, duplexes and apartments ranging from one to six bedrooms. The architecture is as varied as the units themselves: there are boxlike structures made from glass and slatted wood that have a modern Finnish-sauna feel, and white pitched-roof dwellings that resemble modern interpretations of Belgian cottages. In the middle is the old chimney from the soap factory, the kind of homage to industrial history that’s usually cloying in bourgeois settings, less so in a social housing project.

The smaller Le Lorrain is designed by the same architects and is also a renovated industrial complex, this one an old iron dealer. The new estate is spotless and stylish, like something out of Kinfolk or Dwell. But what’s remarkable about Savonnerie Heymans and Le Lorrain isn’t just their pleasing architecture; it’s that, unlike the Spanish projects, they’re located on high-value lots in lively neighborhoods, avoiding the problem of working-class siloing. Their designs also encourage communal life to a greater extent: plenty of shared outdoor space, pavilions and gardens and “mini-forests,” and Savonnerie Heymans even has a game library for kids.

The major downside to social housing in Belgium is that it’s a complicated public-private affair, with a labyrinthine nexus of developers, providers, payers and categories of tenant. The system is decentralized, and while Brussels doesn’t allow tenants to buy (or eventually sell) public housing as Britain does, other Belgian regions do — and there’s a danger that Brussels could fall prey to this policy, as austerity and neoliberalism break the social-democratic commitments of municipal governments across Europe.

This is another area in which Red Vienna shines by contrast. The planning, construction, finance and maintenance of its social housing were highly centralized. The buildings were completely planned and administered by a democratically-elected body, and they were never intended to be privatized. They were provided by workers, for workers, ideally forever.

(Continue Reading)

[ask-the-smallest-fireteam]

First Light

Thought I’d go ahead and drop some writing, just to see what y’all think? I have quite a bit of writing stored up, so I figured I’d start at the beginning.

With a spark.

Light. All she saw was light, blurred, blue, gold, a rosy warmth that spread across her vision and slowly began to shift, outlines becoming clearer. Then, a burning that forced a dragged out sound from her - a gasp for air - and she jerked, coughing, before she fell back. The...The ground was soft, and she moved, feeling it slip through her fingers silkily, while her toes and face began to sting in pain, in what must've been a freezing cold. She blinked, ears popping and sound suddenly splitting into existence. A rushing, crashing noise, accompanied by a high whistle. 

"Guardian?" That was a new noise. She slowly focused, sitting up and cocking her head as blurred lines slowly formed a shape, white, with a single blue...could it be called an eye? Looking back at her.  "Guardian? Can you hear me?" It repeated. The voice was female, slightly familiar, and slightly distorted. She slowly nodded. "Oh, thank the light. I was worried something was wrong, you're soaking wet, it's freezing, you kept fitting-" The little thing made a noise somewhat akin to a cough. "Well, all of that doesn't matter now. We need to get somewhere safe, this place is crawling with something and I don't care to find out what it is. I know you don't know what's happening, but you're going to have to trust me- are you even listening?" Her gaze had wandered just past the little thing, out to what must be been the source of the rushing noise. The word came to her in a moment, with a jolt of something in the pit of her stomach. Ocean. She blinked again, returning her attention to the little floating light, who moved towards her. "Can you...speak?" It asked. She swallowed, considering for a moment, before nodding. She squeaked, cleared her throat - the actions slowly becoming familiar again - and breathed in.  "I...I think so..." Her voice was unsteady, steam rising into the air, and only then did she realise how cold it was.  "Excellent, that's great!" The light made a somersault in the air, evidently happy, and she couldn't resist breaking into what she thought was a smile, raising a fingertip to their smooth shell. "You can just call me Ghost, for now-" They stopped, looking around. "Oh, oh no. No, no...we need to go, now. Guardian, can you stand? Oh, by the light, you'll get sick before we even see anything, it's freezing, and-"  "Don't panic, Ghost." She smiled again, stumbling to her feet. It was incredibly cold, yes, and she could already feel her hands going numb, but she felt...something. "Lead the way. Maybe you can explain a little on the way-?" Her voice cut out as she slipped on some snow, and a noise erupted out of her. Laughter, her mind supplied after a moment, as her ghost shook from side to side, seemingly shaking their head.  "If we make it that far..." 

-------------

"S-So, to recap..." "Save your strength, you're weak as it is-" "I've been d-dead a long time, and you brought me back? And you're from this big source of Light called- oh, and I-I have Light inside me, somehow, and you've been l-looking for me, and-" She was interrupted as her knees gave out, crumpling into what she now knew to be snow. It's so cold... "Guardian! Oh, no, no, let me see..." They were looking around in a panic for something that could help. "We're so far from the city, what-" A loud shot rang out, hitting the ground just next to them, and the pair both shrieked in surprise, scrambling away. "Guardian, your Light-" "Guardian?" A new voice called out from the haze of snow, and she raised a hand to her eyes. What was... A figure began to form, moving towards them. "Hey! Who are you! If you're...I'll...!" Her Ghost sputtered, doing her best to be threatening. She cringed. She really wasn't.  "Ghost, relax, I won't harm a guardian." The figure finally became clear, and her eyes grew wide. It was...a machine, of some kind? But speaking and moving so naturally, golden cloak fluttering in the wind... She frowned. Even for having been dead a good few centuries, she wasn't fond of the confusion. "But I didn't hear about anyone being stationed- oh, by the Light. You're newly risen, aren't you?" It took her a moment to realise the question was directed at her, and she looked up in time as strong hands lifted her from the snow, guiding her firmly the way he'd come.  "Newly...what..? I-I'm sorry, I..." "It's fine. I'm Shiro-4, a...scout for the city. Come on, let's get you inside. You made it pretty far, by the look of it, so well done." She nodded, briefly smiling while trying to make head or tails of...well, everything. "Saladin's going to really love this..." He muttered, pushing open a door that was seemingly built into the mountain, and she breathed in quickly, relaxing as warm air washed over her.  "Um...Salad?" That was the only word she managed to get out of that, which seemed reasonable right up until the strange machine that had rescued her choked on whatever he was about to say, looking at her Ghost incredulously, who simply did her best impression of a shrug.  "You know what, sure. Look, just...wait in here." He ushered her into another room and walked off quickly, leaving any question she would've wanted to ask up in the air. "Well, he seems nice..." Her Ghost nodded. "I've met Shiro once or twice before. He's dependable, I should've tried to get his signal, but I was panicking, and the snow was clogging all the waves, and- You're not listening again, are you?" She'd begun a slow circle of the room, looking up in awe. The walls were lined with giant statues of people with great swords, spears, and shields, armoured from head to toe and carved with great reverence. She ran her fingers over the feet of one, taking care to mind the smouldering coals in the basket there, but withdrew quickly as the stone somehow sparked, a strange warmth blossoming in her fingertips.  "Ghost, what was..?"  "The Light, young one." Another new voice answered her, and she turned to see a man, standing tall and draped in furs, standing solidly by the door. "The song of the sun has made itself heard to you, I believe," he inclined his head at the metal band on her left arm, "Warlock."  "What's a-"  "You'll learn at the City. Shiro will be taking you in a few minutes." He walked up to her, head inclined as his eyes flicked over her. He seemed to be...looking for something? "Guardian. Do you have a name?"  "Name?" She repeated, cocking her head as she considered. Her mind was blank for a moment, and she almost opened her mouth to reply in negative before a flicker of light appeared in her mind. "I...I'm not sure...Miri..?" Her ghost looked at her quickly, shuffling her outer plates, while the man raised a shoulder.  "Not that it matters. You're a little small, for a Guardian, so I wonder if I'll be seeing you again." Miri - yes, now that she thought about it, that felt like her name - frowned again as he gestured to the door before turning and walking back the way he came.  "I-I'll be back. I swear I can do...well, whatever it is I need to do..."  "Guardian? Come on, Ship's ready to go and you need to get to the city, ASAP." The voice from earlier, Shiro, called behind her and she hesitated for a moment before following him down a corridor and into what looked like a giant metal bird.  "This thing's kinda cool..." She ran a hand over a panel, fingers brushing over all sorts of buttons and he gently pushed her hand off, flicking a few and settling into a seat - and all of a sudden they were off, gravity breaking away, ice melting off their wings and bright sunlight glaring through the clouds. 

They soared, her wings stretching out for the first time. 

--------

"Guardian- Miri, we've been walking around the Tower for half an hour, we're definitely lost-" "I did exactly what Shiro said, how could we be- Ow!" "Oh, by the light- sorry about that, um-" "I am so, so sorry, I didn't even see you there, I was so busy trying to-" "Learn to watch where you're walking...You two are lost?" 

[dfroza]

A commissioning to write:

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 9th chapter of the Letter of First Corinthians:

And don’t tell me that I have no authority to write like this. I’m perfectly free to do this—isn’t that obvious? Haven’t I been given a job to do? Wasn’t I commissioned to this work in a face-to-face meeting with Jesus, our Master? Aren’t you yourselves proof of the good work that I’ve done for the Master? Even if no one else admits the authority of my commission, you can’t deny it. Why, my work with you is living proof of my authority!

I’m not shy in standing up to my critics. We who are on missionary assignments for God have a right to decent accommodations, and we have a right to support for us and our families. You don’t seem to have raised questions with the other apostles and our Master’s brothers and Peter in these matters. So, why me? Is it just Barnabas and I who have to go it alone and pay our own way? Are soldiers self-employed? Are gardeners forbidden to eat vegetables from their own gardens? Don’t dairy farmers get to drink their fill from the pail?

I’m not just sounding off because I’m irritated. This is all written in the scriptural law. Moses wrote, “Don’t muzzle an ox to keep it from eating the grain when it’s threshing.” Do you think Moses’ primary concern was the care of farm animals? Don’t you think his concern extends to us? Of course. Farmers plow and thresh expecting something when the crop comes in. So if we have planted spiritual seed among you, is it out of line to expect a meal or two from you? Others demand plenty from you in these ways. Don’t we who have never demanded deserve even more?

But we’re not going to start demanding now what we’ve always had a perfect right to. Our decision all along has been to put up with anything rather than to get in the way or detract from the Message of Christ. All I’m concerned with right now is that you not use our decision to take advantage of others, depriving them of what is rightly theirs. You know, don’t you, that it’s always been taken for granted that those who work in the Temple live off the proceeds of the Temple, and that those who offer sacrifices at the altar eat their meals from what has been sacrificed? Along the same lines, the Master directed that those who spread the Message be supported by those who believe the Message.

Still, I want it made clear that I’ve never gotten anything out of this for myself, and that I’m not writing now to get something. I’d rather die than give anyone ammunition to discredit me or question my motives. If I proclaim the Message, it’s not to get something out of it for myself. I’m compelled to do it, and doomed if I don’t! If this was my own idea of just another way to make a living, I’d expect some pay. But since it’s not my idea but something solemnly entrusted to me, why would I expect to get paid? So am I getting anything out of it? Yes, as a matter of fact: the pleasure of proclaiming the Message at no cost to you. You don’t even have to pay my expenses!

Even though I am free of the demands and expectations of everyone, I have voluntarily become a servant to any and all in order to reach a wide range of people: religious, nonreligious, meticulous moralists, loose-living immoralists, the defeated, the demoralized—whoever. I didn’t take on their way of life. I kept my bearings in Christ—but I entered their world and tried to experience things from their point of view. I’ve become just about every sort of servant there is in my attempts to lead those I meet into a God-saved life. I did all this because of the Message. I didn’t just want to talk about it; I wanted to be in on it!

You’ve all been to the stadium and seen the athletes race. Everyone runs; one wins. Run to win. All good athletes train hard. They do it for a gold medal that tarnishes and fades. You’re after one that’s gold eternally.

I don’t know about you, but I’m running hard for the finish line. I’m giving it everything I’ve got. No lazy living for me! I’m staying alert and in top condition. I’m not going to get caught napping, telling everyone else all about it and then missing out myself.

* * *

The Letter of 1st Corinthians, Chapter 9 (The Message)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 44th chapter of the book (scroll) of Isaiah in which is written of a pine Tree with the alphabetic number of the word “pine” being 44:

Eternal One: Nevertheless, listen to Me, My people:

Jacob, My servant; Israel, My chosen.

The Eternal who made you,

who formed you in the womb and promised to help you, has this to say:

Eternal One: Don’t be afraid, My servant Jacob,

My dear Jeshurun—My chosen.

Like a devoted gardener, I will pour sweet water on parched land,

streams on hard-packed ground;

I will pour My spirit on your children and grandchildren—

and let My blessing flow to your descendants.

And they will sprout among the grasses, grow vibrant and tall

like the willow trees lining a riverbank.

One will call out: “I belong to the Eternal.”

Another will say, “Jacob is my people; Israel my honored name.”

Yet others will write “Property of the Eternal” on their hands.

The Eternal, Commander of heavenly armies,

King of Israel, who paid their ransom, has this to say:

Eternal One: I am at the beginning and will be at the end.

There is no God except for Me.

If you know any God like Me, tell it now.

Declare and demonstrate any who can compare to Me.

Or if you know and have announced events before their time,

told what is to come, then speak so now.

Don’t be afraid. Let your minds be clear of fear.

Haven’t I announced events and revealed what is to come?

From the earliest days, I have done so. You know it—you have seen and know.

So, go ahead, My witnesses: is there a god out there other than Me?

Witnesses: There is no other rock like God. I don’t know a single one.

But whoever does make an idol is not improved or enriched. On the contrary, their passing fancies contribute nothing of value or purpose. Those who look on at such misplaced attention don’t understand what they’re seeing, and the idol-makers will end up embarrassed at best. It’s easy to say, “What pathetic idiocy! Who would do such a thing—make gods that are by definition worthless?” The people who worship them will be shamed and humiliated. After all, people made those gods. Yet it happens all the time. So, let’s put these images, these figurines all together; stand them up—they will tremble with terror and be ashamed.

A metalworker shapes the raw materials into tools and then uses them to make little gods by hammering, bending, heating, and cooling the materials. And in the process, he gets tired and hungry; without water he soon grows faint. Likewise, the woodworker measures and marks the wood, chisels and planes it down, marks it with a compass, and carves it until it looks a bit like a human—lovely, maybe—in order to put it in a house. To take it back a bit further, perhaps he cuts down cedars or he carefully selects the cypress or oak himself, watches it, nurtures it until it is ready for his purpose. Perhaps he plants a pine; with sun and rain, it grows tall. When it’s time to harvest, he uses some of the wood for fuel to stay warm, some to heat the oven and bake bread, and some to craft a god. Then the woodworker bows down and worships before the image he just made. Do you see the irony? He sits around, warming himself and roasting dinner with wood from the same tree from which he crafted a god to which he bows and worships and prays—one time saying, “I am warmed by the wood fire”; another time saying, “O dear god, save me.”

So we see again how it is that they’re blind—their eyes shut to the truth in front of them, their hearts and minds refusing to think and really understand what’s going on. So without stopping to think about it, the fool says, “Gosh, I used half of the wood to build a fire, and baked the bread and roasted the meat over its hot coals. After I eat, I think I’ll use the rest of it to make a repulsive god. Maybe I’ll bow down to this leftover lumber.” A fool like this is feeding on ashes—his addled mind and deceived heart lead him nowhere. He can’t figure out how to save himself, much less see the error of his ways and say, “Is this idol in my right hand just a lie?”

Eternal One: Let that be a lesson to you, My people.

Don’t forget it, Jacob; O Israel, remember—you are Mine.

I made you; you are My servant; I will not forget you.

I have swept away your wrongdoing, as wind sweeps a cloud from the sky:

I have cleared you of your sins, as the sun clears the morning mist.

I have rescued you; come back to Me.

Sing, starry sky and every constellation, for what the Eternal has done.

Shout for joy, dark soil underfoot and deep caverns below;

Erupt in joyful songs, mountains and forests, and every tree in them!

Sing joyfully, for the Eternal One has rescued Jacob, His people;

The splendor of God will be revealed in Israel.

The Eternal, your rescuing hero who formed you before birth, declares,

Eternal One: I am the Eternal, Creator of all there is and will be.

I alone stretched out the heavens and spread out the blue earth.

I confound the lying swindlers who claim to tell the future,

and I make the fortune-tellers look like fools.

I stop the highbrow intellectuals in their tracks,

and I show the fault of their reasoning.

But I stand behind the words of My servants,

and I accomplish what they predict.

The one who says about Jerusalem, “This place will be built up again”;

about Judah’s cities, “They will be restored”:

I confirm their predictions. They will rise from their ruins.

After all, I am the One who needs only to say “Dry up” to great waters,

and your rivers run dry.

I am the one who says of the Persian victor over Babylon,

“Cyrus is My shepherd. He will accomplish what I determine.”

My word goes out concerning Jerusalem:

“It will stand, a glorious city, again”

and of My house within it, “Restoration will begin at once.”

The Book (Scroll) of Isaiah, Chapter 44 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Thursday, july 22 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A set of posts by John Parsons that looks into the True nature of the heart:

From our Torah portion this week (i.e., Vaetchanan) we read, "Know therefore today and return to your heart (והשׁבת אל־לבבך), for the LORD is God in heaven above and on the earth beneath; there is no other" (Deut. 4:39). Here again we see the centrality of the heart as the mode to encounter God (Luke 17:21). Savor the phrase, "Know therefore today and return to your heart..." It is the heart that is the place of connection with God... As Yeshua said, "Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me" (Rev. 3:20). Today is the day to "return to your heart" and receive again God's love for your soul... [Hebrew for Christians]

7.20.21 • Facebook

In our Torah for this week (i.e., Vaetchanan), Moses recalled the awesome revelation of the Torah at Sinai, describing how the mountain “burned with fire unto the heart of heaven” (בּעֵר בָּאֵשׁ עַד־לֵב הַשָּׁמַיִם) when the Ten Commandments were inscribed upon the two tablets of testimony: "And you came near and stood at the foot of the mountain, while the mountain burned with fire unto the heart of heaven, wrapped in darkness, cloud, and gloom. Then the LORD spoke to you out of the midst of the fire. You heard the sound of words, but saw no form; there was only a voice. And he declared to you his covenant, which he commanded you to perform, that is, the Ten Commandments, and he wrote them on two tablets of stone" (Deut. 4:11-13).

The sages say that the tablets represented a heart, as it says, “write them on the tablet of your heart” (Prov. 3:3), and God’s word is likened to a fire that reveals the great passion of God’s heart for us (Jer. 23:29; Deut. 4:24). Tragically, the two tablets were smashed after the people lost sight of the heart of heaven (לב שמים), and therefore God requires a broken heart - teshuvah - to behold his glory once again. Therefore we see that Yeshua died of a broken heart upon the cross for our return to God, when the fire of his passion burned unto the very heart of heaven, and in his mesirat ha’nefesh we see the greater glory of God... May we, then, readily take hold of his passion and never forsake his love and truth. [Hebrew for Christians]

7.22.21 • Facebook

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

July 22, 2021

Jesus Christ or Christ Jesus

“For our conversation is in heaven; from whence also we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ.” (Philippians 3:20)

The doctrine of verbal inspiration implies that not only are the words of Scripture inspired, but the very order in which they appear is also inspired. Study by commentators and translators have rightly noted that a change in the order of the words would at times change the meaning or emphasis of a passage. This phenomenon is often seen in the order in which the various names of Christ appear. By noting this order, one may sometimes gain new insight into a passage.

While the name Jesus, alone, normally appears in the gospels and the book of Acts, the compound name Jesus Christ appears on occasion. Interestingly, the same compound name is used exclusively by the disciples John and Peter in their letters, and by James and Jude, the brothers of our Lord. Of course, these men knew Him first by His human name, Jesus, and only fully comprehended the fact that He was the Christ (meaning “the Anointed,” or “the Messiah”) after His resurrection and ascension.

Paul, on the other hand, first encountered Christ in all His glory on the road to Damascus. Perhaps, as a consequence, he frequently reversed the order, speaking of Christ Jesus, although he used both orders many times.

The reason for this choice of order perhaps can best be illustrated in Philippians 2:5-11. In verse 5, Paul described the Anointed One, who first emptied Himself of certain aspects of His deity to take on human form. Therefore, Paul used the name Christ Jesus. In verse 11, however, the order is reversed. In this case, as in our text, the movement is from humanity to glory. In one, the glory of the risen Savior is emphasized; in the other, the glory that we shall share with Him. This glory is assured us through His victory. JDM

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[jojotier]

A Hot Button Commodity 

There’s a button that stands in the center of the city.

It’s always been there- from the moment the high corkscrew shapes of apartments were built around it and from the moment when it was surrounded by little skyscrapers as cheap as children’s toys and from the littlest microscopic huts that dotted the surface. It’s been there- slowly rising a little every day, slowly gaining a little height, slowly going. Like the rest of us, I suppose. We’re all slowly going.

That’s just how it is- how its always been, really, though we pretend it hasn’t because we dream of fast cars and fast dreams and fast recovery. I slowly make my way around the house, sometimes less slow when the moment strikes, sometimes even slower when everything pulls my brain in a few new directions it shouldn’t be going. I slowly do school work, slowly pick my way into people’s brains through their mouths and slowly draw connected red lines from our slow history to our equally slow reality.

Slow going on games, making and playing them. Slow going on writing, reading, living, honestly. It’s all a blessing, how slow it is, with my folks and my brother.

That’s my sister in the corner. We don’t talk about her anymore.

My brother’s been getting good at drawing lately. Still slow going, but he’s good. His fingers still shake when he picks up a pencil, and he keeps looking over his shoulder. Sometimes he cries so hard he slows down more. Tears sluggishly making their way down his face, hands continually dropping the pencil, and he still draws fun cartoons. Flat little curves and lines, frozen in an emotion and slowly going to change it so they can make their own little faces. It’s nice.

Sometimes I watch, but most times I end up wandering off. I wander off a lot. My brain’s a little twisted inside my skull, you know? All of our brains are twisted in this house. Have been for a long time- festering and twisting, melting bit by bit and freezing in place. My brother’s brain’s been twisting around a lot, but sometimes my pop’s brain twists even more. My mom’s brain is the strangest- it twists itself, and then she acts like it isn’t twisted in the slightest. It’s almost like a party trick.

Well, it’s not as great a party trick as her other one. The one where she says she’s doing things fast, living in the fast lane, when really, she’s sitting perfectly still. It’s funny to watch her hair sweep past, long grey curls splattering against the wall as if there was a wind there to pick it up. Even when she just sits and watches television, her hair is always flying out, wild as a storm cloud as it catches the artificial light of modern gladiatorial combat. My mother may actually be onto something there, and it’s really admirable- but my pop says no one in this house is moving at all, and he throws a tantrum sometimes over it. Slow going for him and his talk, too slow for his liking.

That’s fine though. I like slow going just as is. It’s easier to see the change in our brains when I catch glimpses of my pop’s hippocampus dribbling down his chin, or the inside of my mom’s mouth glowing with red-hot embers the moment something brushes past. Or my own brain, twisted in a strange way in directions I can vaguely remember feeling knot up, but can never really remember even as I stare in the mirror.

No, our brains aren’t twisting because of my sister. They’ve always been like this- they didn’t twist up any when it happened.

Oh, but I wandered off again. Sorry. That happens a lot, so you’re going to have to get used to that. Let me start over…

There’s a button in the center of the city. There used to be a lot of stairs leading up to it, but then they dismantled some of them. They’ve been adding an elevator lately, though- quite a few of those, done up in pretty white stuff that could be marble (but where did they get that? marble’s been out for a good couple of centuries, titanium and coal are in and here to stay) with gorgeous coils of gold running along the entire exterior.

Sometimes I like to walk to the city square just to look at it, and think about what sort of slow going it must have taken to fill its veins with gushing gold. It’s all gold and gleaming, and there are no workers for it.

A lot of people in the city like the button on the pedestal, so that’s strange. Or maybe it’s strange that people like the button at all. But, that’s not my business to think like that- it’s everyone’s right to have the button there in the city, rising on its pretty pedestal up towards the clouds, and I don’t really know much about that sort of thing. The red lines from history sometimes dig into my skin, trying to thread directly to my veins, but that’s only when I think too hard about something that’s always been, so I just ignore it and snip the lines away.

What do you mean, what does my sister think of the button? What the fuck does it matter?

It hurts my head too much…

I know you didn’t mean that though, so let’s keep going. You have some empathy, don’t you? We all have empathy. We all do. Really. We just don’t let it interfere, because emotions make you stupid, like pop sometimes is when he lets his emotions get the best of him and his brain twists and makes him want to graft his skin into the bed and never have to leave. But that’s much too slow going- even for me. He’s fine eventually anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.

The corkscrew apartments keep getting loftier. It’s really a sight, you know- all gleaming titanium with coal smoke signals all on the top, adding this really mysterious air to the city as you go on through. It covers the sun, sometimes, leaving the only real light source the enormous glass fibers that float in strange shapes around the button. It’s a circle of multicolored light then, dazzling as it bounces off the charcoal sky and the steely buildings. It’s almost like a beacon, up there- and absolutely anyone can just walk up to that button, especially on those days, just for a little pressing.

The button itself? I think I like it a lot. It’s gleaming. It’s been a part of the city since forever, since the founders used it. It’s gotten loftier too, gotten higher than the clouds themselves. It’s part of our identity, here. It’s carved a place in our brains and inserted itself.

People like what it can do. One minute. Forty-five people, most randomly selected, unless the button presser has a list of names. Then, the forty-five have their bodies twist up and shake around, and there’s some screaming. Then silence. Their skulls dissolve like candy floss and it’s just there, their brains- maybe some teeth or an eyeball, if you’re lucky- melded and kept in that twisted shape forever. There isn’t really a challenge if their brains are outside, though- so I don’t like that aftermath very much.

Then again… my sister’s brains didn’t twist until they were outside of her head.

So I guess I’m happy I get to see that. I was getting tired of her stupidly static, vibrating brain anyway. It never changed. Don’t get me wrong, I like slow going- slow and steady wins the race and whatever sort of idiom you want to insert there. But her brains never moved an inch. History’s blood red lines etch strange words like ‘innocent’ into my forearm, but that can’t be right, because there’s no such thing as an innocent.

Even those brats in my sister’s class watching her brains twist outside her head weren’t innocent. They screamed and cried, sure, and it must have been unpleasant to watch- we have empathy, see, we see their plight- but when they walked out and begged us to do something about the button, that’s just their guilty emotions coming out. They didn’t try to do anything to stop whoever pushed the button. The police did that, took his strange, ugly pale form in, and on tv, it was easy to see where his brains are twisting and slowly writhing in his mouth. The police did everything. Sure, I’m sorry to those kids, but they didn’t do jack shit. They don’t know anything about the world.

You can’t live your entire life fearing one little button.  In fact… I’ve been thinking of embracing the idea of it lately.

There are people who use the button for fun. They choose forty-five inhuman things, like deer or moose or whatever they want, and they do that to make the brains more fun to eat. There are people who do it to things without brains, though I don’t really understand the point in that. If I were to use it, though, I think I’d want to see human brains. Not that I ever would! Or. I mean. I won’t lie, I probably would.

We’ve all had those fantasies, right? You’ve had them. You, in your prime, wrestling the button away and pressing it, saving the ones you love. You, taking the button and killing off all those inglorious bastards doing crimes and wrongs. Sure, we’re all flimsy and weak here, and sure we can’t really do much if someone uses the button on us- but. It’s nice to pretend that we’re all still running around in the military, almost dying in the line of duty, or gallivanting around poor neighborhoods where they might have someone about to use the button because they don’t agree.

Nothing wrong with a little power fantasy, in my opinion. So what if forty-five people have their brains on the outside? It’s not like they do anything after that anyway…

What do you mean, my sister is trying to say something? She doesn’t have vocal chords. 

(We took them out because she wouldn’t stop sobbing, not for months and months and months and months and months and months and) 

And yes, I’m very sorry about what happened to her- she was my sister after all, and I loved her very much, like I love the rest of my family. I adore my family to pieces. But now she stays in her little corner and gets to be nice and quiet and still, like her brain was when it was inside.

I’m talking about my sister too much. I don’t know why. It’s not like I really let my emotions overtake me like it did that day with mom and pop. Pop, saying he’d press the button on every son of a bitch in this city, mom, begging everyone who could listen to her whining tears that the button needed to be blocked off, that it cost her her baby’s life.

We all believe that everyone should have the right to the button, though, so don’t worry. After they sat down and calmed down, they were back to their old selves. It was slow going again.

The elevator’s been finished. It’s functional. I guess I didn’t realize it at first since I wandered off to talk with you.

You know… my brother’s brain’s been twisting a lot less lately. It’s sad- he used to have a brain that twisted the most out of all of us. But now he’s slowing down too much. He’s going to become still. Sure, I have my folks, but pop’s headed into a mood where he’s slowing down too, and mom’s hair doesn’t fly as nice as it used to. They’re slowing down too much.

Well. That’s fine. I still love them- but I’m afraid they’re going to be getting a little dull. If I run down the stairs fast enough, the police won’t find me rushing back to the house so I can see what shapes their brains freeze into.

Forty-five people. One minute.

I board the elevator. You don’t need to worry about this- you won’t be seeing me after this.

No need to fear if you’re one of the forty-two. 

After all, it’s just a button. 

What’s the worst it can do?

[zorayda-art]

Building Terrix: Day 2

Worldbuilding June, Day 2: Geography

Disclaimer: As DM, I tend to steal ideas from here and there for my personal game. Most of this is cherry-picked, combed over, changed, warped, and molded to fit Terrix. If you see an idea in here you recognize as not mine, that’s probably because it’s not. This isn’t for a book, or anything I’m making a profit from–only for a fun game and a world I can provide for my wonderful players. :)

In which geographical areas will the story take place? How much ground will the story cover? What are the most striking features of landscape, climate, animals, etc. in this area? How will these features affect travel time, communication, etc.?

Area the party has covered in our adventure as of today.

The adventure is split up into smaller campaigns, each of which have included travel from one place to another over the course of the adventure. They will travel further still, exploring new areas, and a prequel of sorts will take place on a faraway plot of land in the icy north.

If there are non-human inhabitants, are there any areas they particularly claim as their own (e.g., dwarves traditionally live underground, usually in mountains)?

This was covered in the Introduction post!

How do differences from Earth (multiple suns, moons, etc.) affect the climate in various areas?

Terrix’s rotational wobble is less pronounced than Earth’s—it’s more firmly tilted on its axis, causing less pronounced seasons and a more overall steady temperature in fixed areas on the planet. (Shout-out to @strudeloo for that info!) The slightly smaller size of the planet also causes the days to be slightly shorter, and the gravity is a bit weaker than on Earth. Exxus burns hotter than Sol, but the planet is further away—so the temperatures are relatively alike in sustaining life, but the years are 400 days long.

There are three moons circling the planet as well, causing differences in tides. For the most part, the effect on the tides is weakened because of smaller moons, but the tides are more varied and unpredictable. Sometimes the tide pull is very strong, when the moons happen to align a certain way.

How much land is in each of the equatorial, temperate, and polar zones? Note: climate affects landscape through erosion and weathering; the distribution of plants and animals, and formation of soil. As a result, it determines what crops can and can’t be grown, what animals can and can’t live in an area, what clothes must be worn to cope with the weather, and how houses are built. Winter freezing and thawing may change travel patterns, as waterways freeze or flood and passes close.

Terrix’s climate zones. White/gray is polar, deep green is the temperate area zone, while the center bright green is the equatorial zone. 

Weather also affects available sports, like skiing. Are all these things consistent with what you say the climate is like in particular areas?

At the beginning of the campaign, they went to Frostshore, which wasn’t all that frosty. Though this was a mistake on my part, we also said that perhaps it USED to be a cold area a very long time ago, or someone with a sense of humor named the town.

Where are major mountain ranges? Rivers and lakes? Deserts? Forests, tropical and otherwise? Grasslands and plains?

Map of all my rivers and lakes! Notable bodies of water my players have come across: Kinesp River, and its waterfall starting from the huge lake on the right continent, the Alligator Coast by Zhayeria (big port city by the bay).

These are all the main rivers and lakes. There are, of course, much smaller bodies of water upon zooming in. Zhayeria is based by the ocean and is cradled in between two branches of a relatively small river that serves as a drinking water source.

If there are imaginary animals (dragons, unicorns, etc.), how do they fit into the ecology? What do they eat? How much habitat do they require? Can they live anywhere, or do they prefer or need specific kinds of climate or terrain? Are they intelligent and/or capable of working spells, talking, etc.?

The most legendary and prominent magical animal is the dragon. Dragons comes in all shapes and sizes and types. Each type of dragon could honestly be treated as an entirely different animal, though they all share a love of treasure and powerful breath weapons, as well as an intelligence at the level and above humans. They have innate magic, though they can learn more magic just like any humanoid can. Dragons are also unique in that some like to blend in with humanoid societies and shapeshift, living among them and making friends. They live quite a long time, though, so at some point a lot of dragons become hermits. Their habitats range from the sea, to volcanoes, to the desert, to swamps, and their effects on the environment are profound. They all have different prey (fish and whales, humans, other dragons) and can greatly impact the ecosystem, whether in a positive or negative way. They are rare, especially in the current time in Terrix.

Other magical animals are, indeed, unicorns, as well as others. Unicorns act as forest guardians and try to bring more life into them than death, which annoys most druids as believers in a balance of life and death in nature. It is said that unicorns are born when an exceptionally good person dies, their soul forming the celestial being that is the unicorn. Unicorns are herbivores, but, strangely, they also survive by “eating” the moonlight reflected off the water’s surface.

There are sentient plants that trap their prey, griffins that swoop from mountains like great terrifying birds, huge hibernating beasts like the tarrasque that come and bring balance by causing destruction when needed, magical beasts of the Underdark that could kill with a glance, fae that lure their prey in with tricks and allure, and many other beasts and beings.

Since this is a world in Dungeons and Dragons, a complete listing of the general area you can find monsters/creatures in is organized in the Monster Manual (5e)!

Which areas are the most fertile farmland? Where are mineral resources located?

Mineral resources are found in the earlier map! The most fertile farmlands usually lie between river branches and on the plains. Other lands can be made into farmland, but the most naturally fertile farmlands are found in the northern half of the Usratia mainland. There are also some really great fertile farmlands on Aezith’s southernmost areas, where the Hin became famous for their green thumbs.

Which animals, birds, fish, and other wildlife are commonly found in which areas? If there are imaginary animals such as dragons, where do they live?

Imaginary animals were briefly discussed, and can be more thoroughly looked at thanks to resources from Wizards of the Coast. As for common wildlife, animals are found in the same types of areas as their equivalents on Earth: whales and other cetaceans live in the oceans, following the currents as they migrate, wolves and deer live in the temperate to colder forested areas, jaguars live in jungles, etc.

Which natural resources, if any, have been depleted in which areas over time?

There are some areas that have been deforested, and magic deep in the earth was tapped into and nearly wiped out the world population at one point. Needless to say, the natural world magic energy source was not looked for again, and it was forgotten over hundreds of thousands of years with no trace of evidence of it existing.

Diamonds are important in the world, being gems that are used in cleric spells. Clerics can revive people from the dead, and the longer the person goes being dead, the more diamonds it requires as the exchange for magical energy needed to reform the body and soul of the one who died. Planar energies tie tightly into necromancy and revival magic, and diamonds seem to be the only thing that triggers the calling of the soul back to the body. 

Therefore, diamonds are a very valuable commodity, and many mines have been depleted.

Which resources (e.g., coal, oil, iron ore, gold, diamonds, limestone, etc.) are particularly abundant, and in which areas? Which are scarce? Are there places where there are rich deposits that haven’t been discovered yet, or where they haven’t been fully exploited?

How much conflict has been or might be caused by these imbalances in resources? How much active, peaceful trade?

Gold quickly became a shiny, coveted metal, and became the main source of currency. Eventually, platinum, gold, silver, and copper became the common world currency. This is mostly thanks to magical teleportation and travel forcing a common currency and language through trade.

Diamonds, again, are an important commodity, and right to the lands near diamond-rich areas are often fought over. 

Dwarves became the main miners of metals and the most prominent metalworkers. After showing their skill in both of these things, people began peaceful trade with them after a long history of their craft and honest merchants.

Magic and power from extraplanar beings is a commodity often not thought of, but it is coveted. Wars have been started because a sect of people sought power and magic, but became corrupt or brought danger into the lands. One such example is the war between dragonborn and tieflings of old, in Arkhosia and Bael Turath on the continent of Orcran.

What water resources available, and for what uses (a mill wheel requires flowing water, i.e., river or stream; irrigation needs a large, dependable water source like a lake or large river; etc.)?

This depends on the city or town. Zhayeria has a few mill wheels at the rivers that surround it. Dunn’s Gate (the inner city) has an intricate inner irrigation system. Places like Aerilon marry magic and technology to get enough water to them and make running water systems.

Terrix is full of rivers and lakes among other bodies of water. Some places near the ocean even have the means to turn the salt water into potable water.

[chrysaliseuro2019]

A Different sort of Mystras

We decided a leisurely start to the day was required prior to our visit to Mystras Old Town. Breakfast was delivered to our door in baskets. We had put our order in the night before. Liz with healthy muesli and yoghourt, me with more basic - omelette, smoked pork and grilled bread. Pretty tasty and quite filling washed down with freshly squeezed OJ and a cuppa of course. We loaded up and around 11.00 set off for the nearby town of Mystras which is a medieval town. A fortress was built here in 1249 and it later became the capital of the Byzantine empire. Storied history with capture by the Turks in 1460 and progressive decline then captured by the Venetians and a revival in fortunes in 1687 with population of 40000 then recapture by the Turks in 1715 and burned later by the Russians 1770 and Albanians 1780 with its final demise via torching in 1825. Having said that people still lived in the town until 1953. Mystras is set on a very steep hill with a fortress at the top and many buildings including a palace, monasteries, a convent (which is still functioning with nuns in residence - the only remaining residents in town) churches and domestic houses on site. Some of these are quite well preserved given their age. In the Middle Ages people flocked here for safety from various marauders and given the steepness of slope we could see why. We started at the top visiting a church (Agia Sofia) with some fading frescoes. Also saw the the Byzantine palace which was nearby but which unfortunately was not open to visitors though impressive from the outside. The site is split into two with the fortress and palace and Agia Sofia at the top and other buildings in the lower half further down the hill. We were advised to drive down to the lower gate and re-commence our visit from there. This was music to our ears as the temp was in the early 30s. We also met an American guy who was returning from the fortress at the top of the hill (looking like he had jumped out of the bath fully clothed so sweaty was he) and he convinced us (it didn't take much) that it was not worth visiting. Mainly because (so he said ) it was not that big or impressive. As we mulled over our next move, two Aussie ladies rolled up and we passed on the American's advice which they were very happy to hear too. We chatted to them for the next 10 mins or so and it turned out they had been where we were next heading down the peninsula visiting beach after beach. Apparently you just follow any sign which says "beach"off the main road and chances are there will be something divine at the end of it. One of them was very livewire and said that in some of the more remote beaches she felt on Pommie Watch as there might just be two or three non swimming poms taking on the waves (probably need her when I enter the water). She was quite over the top and would have been fun to have a drink with. We drove down and re- commenced our exploration of Mystras. Now walking uphill and via a number of stone steps. Undoubtedly the highlights were the convent and a monastery where the frescoes were still very well preserved. The convent also had some offerings below the icon of the Virgin which represented people's fears and concerns and need for assistance with various aspects of their daily life and the hope that divine intervention might assist. So these gold and silver plated "trinkets or tablets" might display children, ears, eyes, wives, husbands - whatever was troubling the parishioner. The whole walk around was completed in 33+ degree heat and it was up and down some serious steps. You got a very good feel for how the city was laid out in terms of streets and it was fascinating given they were perched on this very steep hill. Some of the old ruins of houses were still in enough shape to give a feel for how they would have looked. Signage was pretty good also explaining about buildings etc. We were amused at the historic "council" rules or views which indicated that people opposing development because they might be overlooked could be troublemakers. Also that if you wanted to put a sewerage pipe in from your residence it was not allowed to encroach on your neighbour's land. Amazing how much thought was put into things 500/600 years ago. They also had sewers though you could run your own cesspit if you wished. The glamour side of these sites is always great but it's also good to hear how they dealt with the more mundane stuff. How did they shift all that waste off the mountain? We really enjoyed our visit apart from the heat and Mystras is interesting and well worth a visit. Time to move on and it was great to get back in the car and turn that aircon on. One of the recommendations from Teresa who Liz had met in Oz (and who runs tours in the Peloppenese) was to visit Limeni Village near the town of Areopoli. 65kms or so drive but it was time for some lunch. We stopped at a small taverna in the foothills of Mystras for shared Greek salad and bread. Relaxed place as ever and we sat outside under the trees. Had a mini walk around the town post lunch and the local fountain had mountain water coming out which Liz of course guzzled. They could not present me with a certificate from the local council certifying purity of the water so I passed on this one. Off we set, now around 3.45 for the trip around the usual windy roads. Stopping for petrol we had one of those amazing coincidences. We drove past several petrol stations in the town we had come to and opted for the BP one. I jumped out and the attendant had seen the Hertz sticker on the car and asked me where I was from. As soon as I said Australia a broad grin came on his face and he stuck his hand out for a shake. Aussie/ Greek who had decided to come home and run his dad's petrol station. He had lived in Preston and invited us into his little office and gave us a couple of waters. We had a brief chat. He actually reminded us of our friend Lewis in Melbourne both in manner - he was effervescent, and looks. Yes if you are reading this Lew that's hard to believe I know. Two handsome identical looking blokes. Perhaps you have some Greek in you. You could be Lewos or Lewas. Limeni village which is not particularly large is right beside the sea in a picturesque bay. Arriving around 5.30 we fell in love immediately. We needed accommodation. The recommended hotel from Teresa was full. The village operates on a one way system, you drive down the hill via various switchbacks and drive through the one way street with cars parked on one side and the usual narrow passage to get through. Liz was as usual scrolling rapidly through booking.com as we drove through town trying to identify liked prospects to no avail. We pulled up outside a building a couple of hundred metres past the centre of town so that Liz could probe prospects on line a little more easily. Various options including back up in Areopoli but that was 3kms away up the hill. Some places v pricey. At that point we noticed that the building we had pulled up outside of had rooms available. It was a hotel/pension. I walked in to ask for availability and yes they had a couple of rooms one with big balcony directly facing the sea and the other, smaller with good sea views but to the side of the building. Both reasonably priced though and we lashed out the extra 10 euros and had the balcony facing the sea. What a good decision. The room and bathroom was nothing flash though clean and tidy but the view and ambience on the balcony with also a direct view into town was fabulous". $60 room. $200 view. We were hot though as it was still 30+ so we immediately headed for the water. The hotel had its own steps into the crystal clear sea and we both enjoyed a refreshing swim. After that, showers and we sat on the balcony to take it all in. The hotel had a restaurant and bar which unfortunately had vodka but no tonic (though 50 varieties of ouzo if you wanted it). Easily solved, I nipped down the street to the local cocktail bar and got a vodka and tonic take away for Liz while I had the travelling beer which we had carried for several days (we had chilled it). Great hour or so sitting on the balcony enjoying the view and we then headed for dinner. This was at Takis a fish restaurant recommended by Lonely Planet. Right in the centre of town so a two minute walk. No booking and it was crowded so we were offered a table not right by the water but one in from the front. Pretty warm as the sea breeze wasn't quite penetrating. Liz shot back to the hotel to get some cooler gear. I ordered a beer and pretty simultaneously struck up a conversation with the friendly Aussies at the table beside us - Lesley and Grant. They were from Bundaberg and had recently moved to Noosa, were sailing their own cat and were away from Australia for around 6 months doing just that. They now do the same each year in the European summer. Liz returned and we had a whale of a time chatting to Lesley and Grant with plenty of laughs, stories and just interesting conversations about what was going on in our and their lives and of course on hols. They were interesting, interested and great company. The fish was good though we forgot to ask for it to be cooked closed up on the coals so was a little drier than we normally like. However we had a bottle of rose which was very good and Liz survived without a headache the following day. I seemed to have a a bit of a headache but it may have been the couple of extra beers Grant and I downed. We booked a table by the water for the next day though Grant and Lesley were leaving for Olympia so would not be joining us.

[viewget-blog]

Halong Bay in Vietnamese meaning “dragon into the sea,” located in Hanoi 165 km northeast, known as the “sea Guilin” Halong Bay is the first scenic spots in Vietnam. Halong Bay is a large area, large and small thousands of limestone out of the sea, the sea calm, picturesque. And you can take a boat to visit the lava cave on the island. Legend has it that because of the Dragon came to help the Vietnamese to repel the enemy, the dragon spit out the gem into a strange rock has been protecting the Halong Bay.

Halong Bay by the United States by the stone, water and sky three elements, like a rolling picture, to the side of the sea has been stretched. Long Shidao Tianzi attitudes. Shidao shape, color the same day, combined with the sea to create ink painting. Bay on the incense burner stone that spiritual significance, fighting chicken stone has philosophical abundance, toad stone to the days of litigation. There are many beautiful Ishigaki beautiful, charming caves, of which wood holes cause glorious appearance, the stalactites are particularly rich hole, mix. Temple cave as beautiful, brilliant palace as. Pu thick hole curved round the door, stalactites drooping Rou Man such as willow and surprising cave was amazing, some of its stalactites like pheasants, dragons, frogs, and some like the waterfall and many images to this hole you seem to Mythical world. Other caves such as: Sannomiya, Virgin, fairy dragon, each has its advantages, beautiful and charming. In this case,

Halong million of the sea is always green water, always with the flow of time in the past. Halong Bay is beautiful, spring green, buds covered with stone hill. Summer weather is cool, white, the sun shining the sea. Autumn night, the moonlight gold-like fluttering under the shadow of the mountain. In the winter waves on the rocky mountain fog smoke floating: “Halong Bay, such as floating in the mother waves on a blue flower.”

Halong’s sunset is a must. Suddenly there are many haze in the sky, forming all kinds of networks: this mist seems to sea-level, inclined, vertical, and even whirlpool dispersed to the parties in various ways. In the end only the blur of the blue collision with each other, like a different color, different concentrations of liquid, a layer of a layer into a transparent bowl, although it looks structured, but slowly mixed up. The direct rays of the sun have completely disappeared. The sky left a pink and yellow: shrimp red, salmon red, linen yellow, yellow grass, and then you can see these rich colors began to disappear. The landscape of the sky has re-created all kinds of white, blue, green and then again. However, the horizon still has some corners to enjoy their own life can not be sustained but independent.

Bai Qiu is the starting point for Ha Long Bay tourism, is a small town, walk an hour you can Guang Wan. General tourists are from here by boat to visit Halong Bay. There are many restaurants and hotels on Ha Long Street along the coast. If you want to eat seafood, I suggest you let the hotel where the locals buy and do for you, the price fair. If you go directly to the restaurant to eat, then beware of the Chinese people to open the restaurant, a lot of “Diaobao dollars”, you pick a good big fish, shrimp, crab into small or even die, but my personal experience.

Bai Qiu on the other side of the Hongji is a quiet town, two cities across the Strait, a ferry frequent exchanges. Coal production, so a little dirty, the hotel rarely, but the market has to sell fresh seafood. 15 minutes walk from the pier, the hill has a beautiful Catholic Church, from the church courtyard to the sea looked beautiful.

Visited the unique water village in Halong Bay. All the houses and houses were built on the “foundations” of the water, like many big styrofoams. Although the Vietnamese government forbade the villagers to live there in the past few years, they could finally move back to their own water homes and live on in the struggle of the local people for a living. The villagers here to maintain the original form of life, we still have the water after the vicious dog rushed out. Also here is also located in many pearl farms, Halong Bay is one of the industries.

Climb the highest peak, can enjoy the scenery of Halong Bay, or drill into a large rock in the belly, visit the nine limb caves 8 bend. Although this time coincides with the tourist season, where crowds are crowded, especially …. I really can not stand the French, noisy and rude, large and self-righteous colonial empire that kind of self Thought superiority study. However, the natural scenery here, as well as various types of terrain: forests, caves, sandy beaches, rocky shore …. and so is very elegant and rich.

Canoe unexpectedly easy and easy, just try to dial a few times after the water we all plan fast and good. We are heading for the whale-hole to explore the secret, did not expect to actually have a Journey Through, we are no longer living in the island into the ocean, but as if to come to a world of independent valleys, surrounded by rock surrounded by , The outside sea breeze and open space are isolated. Water into a freshwater stream, trickle is very shallow, the river is full of dense and green jungle and a variety of plants, full of salty sea breeze is also a fresh taste of the soil to replace. The sound of the engines of the ships was no longer heard, the canoes and the air here were extremely quiet, and the treetops on the rocks trembled with gusts of wind or animals, birds whistling, insects drifting, and even Every drop of the paddle and the sound of a drop of water when it is lifted are clearly visible.

Halong Bay Vietnam, stone, water and sky, a rolling picture was originally published on View Get