When Gary Crutchley started taking pictures of his children playing on an inflatable slide he thought they would be happy reminders of a family day out.

But the innocent snaps of seven-year-old Cory, and Miles, five, led to him being called a ‘pervert’.

The woman running the slide at Wolverhampton Show asked him what he was doing and other families waiting in the queue demanded that he stop.

One even accused him of photographing youngsters to put the pictures on the internet.

Mr Crutchley, 39, who had taken pictures only of his own children, was so enraged that he found two policemen who confirmed he had done nothing wrong.

Yesterday he said: ‘What is the world coming to when anybody seen with a camera is assumed to be doing things that they should not?

‘This parental paranoia is getting completely out of hand. I was so shocked. One of the police officers told me that it was just the way society-is these days. He agreed with me that it was madness.’

Father- of-three Mr Crutchley, a consultant for a rubber manufacturer from Walsall, West Midlands, was with his wife Tracey and their sons when the pleasant Sunday afternoon out turned sour.

He said: ‘The children wanted to go on an inflatable slide and I started taking photos of them having a good time. Moments later the woman running the slide told me to stop.

‘When I asked why, she told me I could not take pictures of other people’s children. I explained I was only interested in taking photos of my own children and pointed out that this was taking place in a public park.

‘I showed her the photos I had taken to prove my point. Then another woman joined in and said her child was also on the slide and did not want me taking pictures of the youngster.

‘I repeated that the only people being being photographed were my own children. She said I could be taking pictures of just any child to put on the internet and called me a pervert. We immediately left the show.’

Mrs Crutchley, 37, a teaching support assistant and qualified nursery nurse, said: ‘I was shocked by the reaction of those women.

'It is very sad when every man with a camera enjoying a Sunday afternoon out in the park with his children is automatically assumed to be a pervert.’

The slide was run by Tracey Dukes, 35, whose father Malcolm Gwinnett has an inflatables hire company.

Mr Gwinnett, 58, a LibDem councillor in Wolverhampton, said: ‘Our policy is to ask people taking photos whether they have children on the slide. If they do, then that is fine.

‘But on this occasion another customer took exception to what the man was doing and an argument developed between those two people that continued without any further involvement from staff on the slide.’

This just proves to me how easy it is to manipulate women (via the media), especially when it involves attacking men, something way too many of them are only too happy to do at the slightest excuse. Put a group of women together and the hate multiplies exponentially. This hate campaign against men has gotten to the point where they are afraid to help a child in need, even if their life is in danger, lest they be attacked by seething hordes of media-obsessed sheep women.

Also take note of the social engineering here, turn women against men, sow seeds of mistrust, everyone is out to get you! Give the government your freedoms and it will protect you from the bogeyman! Bloody sheep.

Je me suis rappelé, au déjeuner, les premiers livres que la grande historienne Régine Pernoud écrivait pour en finir avec le Moyen-Age. Elle y rappelait l'indigence des connaissances générales sur ces immenses siècles qu'on qualifiait alors de "sombres", "obscurs", "noirs" et "ténébreux". La bétise de l'enseignement général sur cette période était tellement crasse à l'époque que l'opinion était persuadée que les gens du Moyen-Age n'étaient qu'un ramassis de gueux obscurs (alors qu'ils construisaient des cathédrales) et tellement indigents et miséreux qu'ils en étaient réduit à "gratter la terre" et à ..."manger des racines"...
A midi, j'ai également mangé des racines et elles étaient fort bonnes. Je suis donc un gueux du Moyen-Age. Et ce soir je me ferai sans doute des poireaux ou des carottes. Que voulez-vous, je suis un serf stupide : je mange des racines !

La bonne odeur de la pierre taillée

Mesurer sa vie en matins

• Bernal treats economic and political factors as the sources of the scientific revolution, not the context
• Bernal highlights the transformation of the Feudal economy
• Rise of monarchy and the bourgeoisie
• Technical improvements in agriculture and textile production
• Expansion of trade due to improvements in agriculture and navigation increases markets
• Capital investment in science and technology

Marxism in Theory

• Exploitation and the economy
• From slavery to serfs to the proletariat
• Capitalists own the means of production, worker alienation
• Capitalism is only a stage in a larger historical process
• Role of science and technology in this process
• Interrelation of scientific and economic changes
• Importance of science
• Economic transformation more important than scientific development (“possible and necessary”)
• Science is permanent, capitalism is temporary
• Practical and abstract elements of science merged in scientific revolution
• Economic and religious changes allow scientists to challenge ancient authorities
• Competing authority, not new authority

Astronomy and the Scientific Revolution

• Nicholas Copernicus (1473-1543), Torun, Poland
• De Revolutionibus orbium coelestium, 1543
• Problems with Ptolemy
• Copernicus:
  Spherical earth, rotated on axis
  Large Universe
  Sun-Centred model
  Mars and Venus
  Retrograde motion
• Tycho Brahe (1546-1601)
• New star in 1572, comet in 1577
• Geocentric model that had all of the planets revolving around the sun, and the sun revolving around the Earth.
• Johannes Kepler (1571-1630), mathematician and a supporter of Copernicus
• Elliptical orbits and non-uniform velocities
• Galileo Galilei, 1564-1642, Many interests, mathematics, astronomy, mechanics, and instrumentation
• Telescopic observations produced criticisms of Ptolemaic and Aristotelian cosmology:
  Moons of Jupiter
  Imperfections on the moon
  Phases of Venus
  Planets and stars
• Disputes over telescopic observations
• Church condemnation of Copernicanism in 1616
• Galileo was censured from holding, defending or teaching it.
• Dialogue on the Two Chief World Systems, 1632
• Protestant reformation and Galileo’s status

Original in Russian:
Ниже предпринята попытка рассказать об их происхождении и о том времени, когда первые гусарские полки России состояли почти исключительно из иноземцев (сербов, болгар, македонцев, молдаван), поступивших в российскую службу.

Translation in English:
Is undertaken below the attempt to describe about their origin and about that time, when the first hussar regiments of Russia consisted almost exclusively of foreigners (Serbians, Bulgarians, Macedonians, Moldavians), who entered into the Russian service.
__________________________________________________

Original in Russian:
В результате создалась возможность сформировать в Новой Сербии еще два полка: Македонский и Болгарский полевые гусарские из холостых и одиноких людей, не пожелавших хозяйствовать в поселении. Из семейных поселенцев в Новой Сербии для Новомиргородского шанца был создан гарнизон в 100 гренадеров и 200 мушкетеров; при этом Хорват просил "набирать и комплектовать оной из иностранного же православного четырех национов, сербского, македонского,болгарского и волохского народов и быть им на основании пандурского пехотного полка"14 .

Translation in English:
As a result the possibility to form the two additional regiments in new Serbia was created: Macedonian and Bulgarian field hussar from the unmarried and lonely people, which did not wish to manage in the settling. From the family settlers in new Serbia for The novomirgorodskogo trench was created the garrison into 100 grenadiers and 200 musketeers; however, in this case the Croat requested "to collect and to complete by the afore-mentioned from the foreign orthodox of four nations, Serbian, Macedonian, Bulgarian and Vlachian peoples and to be it on the basis of pandurskogo infantry polka"yya.
__________________________________________________

Original in Russian:
В 1763 и 1765 гг. были введены новые штаты, что вызвало переформирование гусарских полков и изменение практики набора людей в них. Ввиду огромной некомплектности полков дозволено было "как болгар, сербов, македонцев и волохов не хватает, то принимать беглых малороссов и великороссов, и уже вышедших... определять в гусарский, пандурский и Слободские полки", но только людей "вольных, а не крепостных из российских подданных".

Translation in English:
Into 1763 and 1765 were introduced new states, that caused the reformation of hussar it was regimental and a change of the practice of the collection of people in them. In view of the enormous incompleteness it was permissible regimental "as Bulgarians, Serbians, Macedonians and volokhov do not be sufficient, then assume quick malorossov and Great Russians, and already left... to determine into hussar, the pandurskiy and suburban regiments", but only people "free, and not serfs Russian those yielded".
__________________________________________________

Taken from "Voprosy istorii" 1988-04-30VPI-No. 004, pages 174-180.

It could have been a magical pencil of course, but this seems unlikely.  I think they were trying to tunnel out, but not any more.  I was heartened (and fattened) by their presence, but do think I have now tapped all the resources that are available to me from that particular tin.  I now have the worrying problem of what to do with the rest.  I would feel spectacularly guilty if I threw them away, but we don't know anyone else who likes them either.  I wonder how the birds would feel about them, now they've finished pecking their way through all the windfalls in the garden?  They are fruit based after all.  Practically a late harvest gift.  Mind you if they all die because their beaks are stuck together with strawberry flavoured fondant I will feel terrible.  I might look it up first.  I expect the RSPB website will know what's best.

My other option is to lace them with sleeping pills and throw them over the fence into yappy type dog woman's garden.  That would stop it barking at all hours of the day.  It woke me three times last week on the one morning I actually managed to get a nap in, little bastard.  Mind you, as I would actually have to go to the chemist to buy sleeping pills, hollow out the centres of the orange creams and put them in, all before I could lay my cunning trap, it seems like a bit too much hard work, this time.

This morning started badly with my mobile phone deciding that like its owner it was feeling a bit tired and emotional.  It  had just had enough of it all and turned itself off in the middle of the night.  This would be fine except that I use my phone as an alarm clock and it was the only thing standing between us and being late for school this morning.

It started playing up on Saturday when I offered to put Andrea's bottle of designer juice (strawberry and mint) in my handbag so that she didn't have to carry it around with her.  I have a handbag the size of Belgium, and her pockets are full of baler twine and theatre tickets usually, so it seemed like a good idea at the time.  I think it might have leaked a little, as all evening after that the LCD display faded in and out.  I did just think it was me, as I have rather a bad track record with phones.  Tallulah once emptied a bottle of baby milk into my phone for me, and I had to dry it out on a radiator.  It just about survived, and then three weeks later she did it again.  This time it died.  I have also dropped one in the sea.  I left the last one I had on a number 94 bus, and  Oscar has scratched the one I currently have by using it as a car and racing it across the floor.  I did notice however, as I peered at the screen while it disappeared for the sixth time that it smelled slightly of minty strawberries, so I feared the worst.

It seemed fine all day yesterday, but obviously decided that enough was as good as a feast, and just powered down for the duration of the night last night.  I have watched it like a hawk all day today and it hasn't played up once.  I expect it will wait until the house burns down and I need to ring the emergency services before it decides to misbehave again.  It will seem as if it's working fine, but when I think I'm getting through to the fire brigade I will be ringing the National Gallery in Penzance instead.

 It wasn't quite as disastrous as it could have been, as Oscar squeaked his way into the world this morning at five past eight, complaining about the lack of room service, the failure of his serfs to bring him his usual helpings of adulation and the fact that his nappy was hanging by a thread.  Normally we get up at about quarter to eight, and we only live five minutes walk from the school, so I had great hopes that as long as we didn't fanny about we might actually get there on time.  I had the added bonus that Jason was home, so I didn't have to fight Oscar into his clothes either.  I hadn't however, reckoned on the wrath that was/is Tallulah.

I woke them up and asked them to get a move on this morning because we didn't want to be late.  They had already sorted out all their stuff before bed last night, so I went downstairs to put the kettle on, little imagining the trauma that would ensue.  Now, for those of you hardened blog readers you will know that we had a running problem for much of last term where Tallulah would have a tantrum every day about her complete inability to put on her own school uniform despite the fact that a) she has been dressing herself perfectly adequately for at least a year, and b) she actually likes going to school and loathes the idea of being late.  The crucial factor that we weren't reckoning with being c) she loves to be at the centre of an epic drama at any time of the day or night.  Towards the end of last year however we had conquered this particular dressing shaped hurdle and things were looking good.

This morning we suffered a major set back as I called up the stairs at twenty past eight to find out what was going on, to meet Tilly coming down the stairs announcing that Tallulah was crying.  When I went up there she was sitting wearing her top and pants and wailing because: 'My toes are too pointy to fit into my tights properly!'  I was feeling quite tired and emotional this morning, as I hate being woken in a panic about anything, and I hadn't yet managed to plunge the cafetiere, so she got very short shrift, which led her to come sulkily downstairs a few minutes later with her tights miraculously on.  It may have been my threat to cut her toes off with a sharp implement that did the trick.  Who knows?

We were still in with a squeak of a chance of making it when the final indignity occurred.  It was hideously windy last night, so much so that one of the fence panels in the garden blew off and was skulking about near the compost bin.  The wind was still up and there was frost on the road outside.  I made the foolish mistake of trying to button Tallulah's cardigan up for her after I had finished taming her hair (I would say brushing, but her hair is so wild and curly, and alive, that taming seems a much more suitable word for it), making some comment about wanting her to be warm on the way to school.  She went absolutely mental.

She shook with rage and started pummelling me with her fists shouting incoherently: 'I..... Don't....Want......MY.....BUT....TONS.......DONE!'  I was slightly flabbergasted.  I tried to show her the evidence of the fence panel.  I pointed out that she was going to freeze on the way to school.  She was having none of it.  She went wild.  She lost control to the point where I couldn't get any sense at all out of her and she was just flailing around making incoherent noises and snorting like a wild boar.  I felt that this was a bit of an over-reaction.  I had a bit of an over-reaction to her over-reaction and swept her into my arms like a menacing roll of carpet and took her off upstairs to threaten her with imminent death if she tried to punch me again.

It took a good ten minutes to calm her down and extract an apology.  She had a very mutinous look in her eye, even after the apology, and started to form the word, 'But...', I pointed out that if the words following but were going to be; 'I still don't want my buttons done up,' that I would be forced to bludgeon her with a blunt instrument and that no court in the land would convict me.  She set her mouth in a mutinous line and ten minutes thereafter we were marching our way to school, late, but warm.

When I dropped her off, the last thing she said to me was: 'Can I undo my buttons now?'  She's dedicated, I'll give her that.  She was also in the middle of her classroom surrounded by other parents and teachers, so she knew that I wasn't going to string her up by her ankles and flay her alive.  I was very calm.  I said: 'As soon as I've gone you can do whatever you like Tallulah.  Your dad is coming to pick you up this evening, and he can deal with it.'  I thought that was a fair answer.  A bit of buck passing can be politic at times.

By the time I got back home I was windswept, frozen to the bone and exhausted.  My cardigan is so posh it doesn't have buttons, so I was doomed from the start.  It's so posh you're not supposed to wash it in the washing machine, but I do, and so far it hasn't shrunk or fallen apart.  Perhaps it turns itself off in the middle of the night and stops being a cardigan.  It clearly doesn't turn into an alarm clock, more's the pity.

Lee, who has been doing sterling service helping out with the invalid this weekend, and helping babysit the kids on Saturday, had to go home today.  He's got some job interviews coming up this week and needed to go home and iron his tie.  His car battery is also dead, so he needed a jump start.  Even though Jason is still dying, as a vote of thanks, he volunteered to take Lee over to his place and jump start his car for him this afternoon.  He said we could come with him because a) Oscar likes a trip out, especially when it involves mechanical things, and b) I wanted to make sure that Jason did very little, and kept his cardigan buttoned up, because I'm now bored of nursing him and want him to hurry up and get better so I can get out of bed without standing on tissues.

We piled into the car and headed off.  The men spent twenty minutes in the car park sucking their teeth while the jump leads jumped and Oscar and I sat in the car while he retuned the radio and drove us to Inverness (in his mind).  All seemed fine and dandy except that the battery was so dead it wouldn't charge.  After one more go they gave up.  I didn't like to say, but I have a bad history with battery charging of cars, and I feel that I may have been the albatross of doom.  Naturally I didn't say anything because I hate being left out and they would have banned me otherwise.

When Jamie and I were first married we went to Canada to visit his family.  His brother lives in Whistler, which, for those of you who don't know, is a ski resort up a very steep mountain.  His mother lives in Victoria, which is on an island, down the mountain and across the sea.  We had been to stay with his brother, and his brother had very kindly lent us his car, so that we could drive down the mountain, get on a ferry and go and visit his mother.  It was a horrible day, it was snowing and visibility wasn't great.  It took us ages to drive down the mountain, and we had managed about half the journey when we decided to stop and have something to eat.  The snow had died down by now, but Jamie foolishly left the headlights on for the entire duration of our snack stop.  When we got back to the car, the battery was dead.

Jamie asked a likely looking man in the restaurant if he had any jump leads.  It turned out that the poor guy was in a wheelchair (Jamie hadn't noticed).  He struggled out into the car park with us.  Jamie was mortified but daren't say anything in case the bloke thought he was anti people in wheelchairs.  They got the jump leads and the bloke said: 'I hope you know how to use these.' Jamie, who was ever confident went: 'Yeah! Sure! How hard can it be?' and then promptly wired them back to front and blew our engine to kingdom come, giving himself an electric shock in the process.  Luckily the guy in the wheelchair's car was fine, which was good given the fact that he had struggled his way across a wet, snowy car park to help us in the first place.

We had to find a mechanic and get him to tow the car to his workshop.  It then took about three hours and several hundred dollars to fix, by which time it was dark, we had missed two ferries and we had fielded several hysterical phone calls from his mother and his brother.  We got to our destination at about one in the morning.  It would have been cheaper and easier to hire a Lear jet and have done with it.

So, it came as no surprise to me when Lee's car battery turned out to be as dead as a dodo.  They called it, and Lee slammed his car door shut.  It was at this point that he noticed that he had locked his car and house keys inside his car, and his car was locked!  He rents his flat from a friend.  He rang her.  She had a spare set of flat keys at her house.  We drove him to where she worked.  We drove him to her house.  We drove him back to his flat where he could get in and find his spare car keys.  It was all very exciting.  We left him with his dead car and went home to have a lie down.

When we got home we found out that the lady next door had been burgled.  Sadly it wasn't the nasty lady from next door who has a horrible dog and leaves me her parcels to collect.  It was the lady on the other side, whose only crime so far has been to hold one very loud party in the summer where all our windows shook until half past one in the morning.  We agreed that we felt very sorry for her for the loss of her things.  We also agreed that we hoped the burglars had taken her stereo system (sorry lady, but it is my blog).

Jason is now paranoid that we will be broken into.  It was between two and four in the afternoon which is when we were driving about the county on our key based mission of mercy.  We went out and didn't put the burglar alarm on.  Jason is convinced that we have been saved only because we were doing a charitable act, and that if we had been to Tesco to buy sausages we would have come home to find the house an empty shell.  I think the burglars took one look inside our hall, saw the log jam of soggy tissues, half masticated malted milk biscuits and Bob The Builder toys and thought: 'It's not worth it.'

Jason is now more paranoid than ever about putting the burglar alarm on.  I am now more worried than ever about the fact that I have a really hard time remembering the code for it.  Dear reader, there will be trouble ahead.  You may have to bake cakes for me when I am jailed for wasting police time for the fourteenth time in a week.

 by John Paul Mitchell

Any spiritual teacher that insists taxation of personal income and wages is necessary must be a criminally-minded con-man, naive and gullible, or completely uneducated about the history of taxation. A government that imposes a requirement to pay taxes by their citizens is a government that enslaves their people. In the mind of any free man, taxes equates to slavery. 

In ancient times, when an empire or nation defeated tribes or other nations in war or battle, the winning nation would punish the losers. The punishment would often occur in degrading and abusing the captured women, mandatory requirement to work, and taxing the working people a percentage of their income. 

The first known system of taxation was in Ancient Egypt between 3000-2800 BC, the first dynasty of the Old Kingdom. Ancient records document how the Pharaoh would travel Egypt every 2 years, collecting a percentage of revenues from the people. Before this time in ancient civilization, human beings faced tribal governments with no enduring problem of taxation.

As an example of a high tax, medieval serfs of the Middle Ages paid 25% of their earnings to their landlords. In ancient Israel, any income over 10% was considered usury or taxable at a high interest.  When the Romans took over and occupied the region of Judah and Israel, they began to punish the Jews through forced taxation. In the days of Jesus, there was hatred and disgust towards tax collectors, especially those of Jewish descent.

According to the Bible, Jesus, a mystical and prolific spiritual teacher, was charged for tax protesting crimes and inciting disobedience against the Roman oppressors and authorities. Luke 23:1-2 (NIV) explicitly states: Then the whole assembly rose and led him off to Pilate. And they began to accuse him, saying, "We have found this man subverting our nation. He opposes payment of taxes to Caesar and claims to be Christ, a king."

Even the most famous spiritual teacher known to humanity blatantly opposed taxation. 

Thousands of years later the American Revolution began. Contrary to popular belief, the Colonists' did not revolt due to a tea tax. The British Monarchy was imposing a 3-5% income tax on the Colonists' earnings. The revolution consisted of killing, maiming, property destruction and expensive battles for eight years, but the bitter relations lasted decades. All of this destruction because the British Monarchy would not cease their practices of taxation and slavery.

After the new union was set apart from Britain, there was no individual income tax for 124 years. Except for two brief periods, during 1862-1872 (an "income duty" to pay for the Civil War) and 1874-1875 (until the Supreme Court declared it unconstitutional), the United States thrived without a national income tax imposed on its population. Americans were free to earn, save, spend, build, invest, and donate their money as they wished, without limitation, nor fear of taxation. The United States was able to support itself through tariffs on imports and exports, excise taxes on liquor, and by issuing government bonds.

To this day, the federal government of the United States of America, continues to tax the income of hard-working citizens. All states within the union, except seven (including Alaska, Florida, Nevada, South Dakota, Texas, Washington, and Wyoming), require a mandatory state income tax. In addition to the seven, there is two states (New Hampshire and Tennessee) that only tax dividends and earned interest on income. How is it possible for a state to not require taxes, but the federal government does? How would a state support itself and its population without the steady flow of taxes?

The United States of America has been committing unconstitutional crimes of taxation and enslavement against its growing population (currently, 303 million citizens) since 1913.

If national income taxes were abolished, not only in the United States, but elsewhere, a nation's economy would thrive due to a free market of earning, spending, saving, and investing. Economic crisis would be a thing of the past while nations became more stable and free. A person would have more money in their pocket to do as they wanted. It would no longer be difficult to finanicially survive in this lifetime while feeding and sheltering one's family, loved ones, and self. 

How can a government take from you what they do not own or have properly earned themselves? When you earn money through your skills, abilities, and strengths, you are the rightful owner of that income until you decide to spend or give that money to another person, business, or organization.  Through a monetary system, the energy exerted and time spent working is converted into an adequate finanicial substitution. The money we earn is money that belongs to us; no man or government has the right to take it.

Do not give in helplessly subjecting yourself and your innately human rights to a government's whims and unnecessary spending. You are the people of your nation; in the highest reality, you are essentially a free human being.

Retain your freedom, defeat the system!