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~ A jury consists of twelve persons …. chosen to decide … who has the better lawyer ~  Robert Frost

 

 

Tell me about it!

 

Mother

Name:                  Casey Anthony.

 

A self pitying, self absorbed, pathological liar,

some one who was in her own world, loves to live “the easy way “,

who never held a responsible job,

apparently decided at later point, being a mother, was wasting of time, her youth,

and her adorable daughter, a burden, was blocking her opportunities

to find happiness.

 

 

Father

Name:                 Unknown.

                            the name given s not proven.

                            Casey s Anthony claims Eric Baker who died in a car accident, in 2007,

                            is Caylee s father but Eric s mother Wyvetta Ridner says

                            she doesn’t think her son fathered any children,

                            but she’s considering doing genetic testing to see if she is Caylee’s grandmother

What followed:     According to Casey Anthony’s father, George Anthony,

Casey left the family’s home on June 16, 2008,] taking Caylee (who was almost 3) with her and did not return for 31 days. Casey’s mother Cindy asked repeatedly during the month to see Caylee, but Casey claimed that she was too busy with a work assignment in Tampa, Florida. At other times, she said Caylee was with a nanny, later identified by Casey as Zenaida “Zanny” Fernandez-Gonzalez, or at theme parks or the beach. It was eventually determined that although Zenaida Fernandez-Gonzalez did in fact exist, she had never met Casey nor Caylee Anthony, any member of the Anthony family, or any of Casey’s friends.

On July 13, 2008, while doing yard work, Cindy and George Anthony found a notice from the post office for a certified letter affixed on their front door. George Anthony picked up the certified letter from the post office on July 15, 2008, and found that his daughter’s car was in a tow yard.

When George picked up the car, both he and the tow yard attendant noted a strong smell coming from the trunk. Both later testified that they believed the odor to be that of a decomposing body. When the trunk was opened, it ontained a bag of trash, but no human remains.

Caylee Anthony was reported missing to the Orange County Sheriff’s Office

on July 15, 2008, by her grandmother, Cindy. During the same call, Casey Anthony acknowledged to the 911 operator that Caylee had been missing “for 31 days”. A distraught Cindy also told the 911 operator,

“There is something wrong. I found my daughter’s car today and it smells like there’s been a dead body in the damn car”.

Evidence:        The Anthony case introduced new forensic science that has yet to be peer-reviewed.

The University of Tennessee‘s “Body farm” discovered “hair banding”, a phenomenon in which hair roots can form a dark band after death. A hair found in the trunk of the Anthony car exhibited this pattern. Air samples were sent to the Oak Ridge National Laboratory.

On Friday, October 24, 2008, a forensic report by Dr. Arpad Vass of the ORNL stated that results from an air sampling procedure (called LIBS) performed in the trunk of Casey Anthony’s car showed chemical compounds “consistent with a decompositional event” based on the presence of five key chemical compounds out of over 400 possible chemical compounds that Dr. Vass’ research group considers typical of decomposition (human decomposition was not specified). Whether or not the decomposition was human is still unknown, but was indicated as a possibility. The process has not been affirmed by a Daubert Test in the courts. Dr. Vass’ group also stated there was chloroform in the car trunk. In evidence hearings, Dr. Ken Furton, a professor in chemistry at Florida International University, stated that there is no consensus in the field on what chemicals are typical of human decomposition. DNA samples could not confirm whether the source was alive or dead. The only DNA testing by the FBI was limited to 752 base pairs out of 16,569 base pairs (less than 5% of the mitochondrial genome sequence).

Evidence was found that someone had searched the Internet on Casey Anthony’s computer for the use of the chloroform and how to make it. On November 26, 2008, officials released 700 pages of documents related to the Anthony investigation, which included evidence of Google searches of the terms “neck breaking”, “how to make chloroform”, and “death” on Casey Anthony’s home computer (which later Cindy Anthony claimed it was she who made the searches, though the search time indicated at the time she cannot possibly be at home but working at her work place).

On February 18, 2009, documents released by the State Attorney’s Office in Florida indicated that the same type of laundry bag, duct tape, and plastic bags discovered at the crime scene were found in the house where Casey and Caylee resided.

Heart-shaped stickers were also recovered by investigators. According to an FBI laboratory email, a heart-shaped outline was originally seen on the duct tape that was recovered from the mouth area of Caylee’s skull, but the laboratory was not able to capture the heart shape photographically and could no longer see it after the duct tape was dusted for fingerprint processing.

The documents also indicate that Cindy Anthony stated to them that a Winnie the Pooh blanket was missing from Caylee’s bed. This type of blanket was found at the crime scene.

An entry from Casey Anthony’s diary was also released.

The following diary entry by Casey Anthony is dated “June 21” and reads:

“I have no regrets, just a bit worried. I just want for everything to work out OK. I completely trust my own judgment and know that I made the right decision. I just hope that the end justifies the means. I just want to know what the future will hold for me. I guess I will soon see – This is the happiest that I have been in a very long time. I hope that my happiness will continue to grow– I’ve made new friends that I really like. I’ve surrounded myself with good people – I am finally happy. Let’s just hope that it doesn’t change”

The trial began on May 24, 2011, at the Orange County Courthouse, with Judge Belvin Perry presiding. In the opening statements, prosecutor Linda Drane Burdick described the story of the disappearance of Caylee Anthony day-by-day. The defense, led by Jose Baez, presented its claim that Caylee drowned accidentally in the family’s pool on June 16, 2008, and was found by George Anthony, who then covered up Caylee’s death and made it so that it would be a secret kept between himself and Casey.

This, the defense argued, is why Casey Anthony went on with her life and failed to report her child missing for 31 days. Baez also alleged that George Anthony had sexually abused Casey since she was eight years old, and also claimed that Casey’s brother Lee had made sexual advances toward her; he was even given a paternity test to see if he was Caylee’s father.

 

Ok, so that’s how it ended … killers go scotfree … poor presenting of case from the prosecution? not guilty for all 3 major counts apart from lying to the Law enforcement??Well then … it’s just the best lawyers won … no justice done to a helpless child!

But I’d ask this:

 

A beloved baby girl dies, say accidently; whether the child drowns in the pool or whether she died because her mother tried to babysit with chloroform; what mother tries to hide it? Let alone go partying as if she’s won a lottery? If it was at all an accident, won’t any real, loving, concerned mother try to seek help, even if she was ‘forced’ not to do so?

 

And the duct tape … if the baby died accidently drowning in the pool … where did it come from?

 

Lastly, as a human, leaving aside being a mother, how could one having the guilty conscious mind, go on live as if nothing was ever missing, ever wrong. I’m sure; for most of us, it would be hard to be part with our pet animal if it dies, we’d grieve, it would be the most natural thing to do. But, loosing ones own child due to what ever reason and go live the way this sicko did, was amazing. The best part’s she writes to her cell mate; of her plans, to have more kids, reading this gave me the creeps.

 

And the so called loving grandparents … what a performance …

After all, it wasn’t justice which won, just a bunch of dramatic Lawyers and their loony client, it’s may be not the jurors who failed, it was the justice system.

Caylee little darling … it wasn’t kind of an end even an animal deserves … may you rest in peace … will see … there’s a saying “what goes around … comes around “…!

http://youtu.be/m2KAA6-GeXA

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A different point of view … perhaps, you’d agree!

THE TABLECLOTH 

The brand new pastor and his wife, newly assigned to their first ministry, to reopen a church in suburban Brooklyn, arrived in early October excited about their opportunities. 

When they saw their church, it was very run down and needed much work. They set a goal to have everything done in time to have their first service on Christmas Eve. They worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls, painting, etc. and on Dec 18 were ahead of schedule and just about finished. On Dec 19 a terrible tempest – a driving rainstorm – hit the area and lasted for two days. On the 21st, the pastor went over to the church. His heart sank when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about 20 feet by 8 feet to fall off the front wall of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit, beginning about head high. The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor, and not knowing what else to do but postpone the Christmas Eve service, headed home.

 

On the way he noticed that a local business was having a flea market type sale for charity so he stopped in. One of the items was a beautiful, handmade, ivory colored, crocheted tablecloth with exquisite work, fine colors and a Cross embroidered right in the center. It was just the right size to cover up the hole in the front wall. He bought it and headed back to the church. By this time it had started to snow. An older woman running from the opposite direction was trying to catch the bus. She missed it. The pastor invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus 45 minutes later. She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor while he got a ladder, hangers, etc., to put up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry.

The pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and it covered up the entire problem area. Then he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle. Her face was like a sheet. “Pastor,” she asked, “where did you get that tablecloth?” The pastor explained. The woman asked him to check the lower right corner to see if the initials, EBG were crocheted into it there. They were. These were the initials of the woman, and she had made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria. The woman could hardly believe it as the pastor told how he had just gotten the Tablecloth. The woman explained that before the war she and her husband were well-to-do people in Austria. When the Nazis came, she was forced to leave. Her husband was going to follow her the next week. She was captured, sent to prison and never saw her husband or her home again. The pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth; but she made the pastor keep it for the church.

The pastor insisted on driving her home that was the least he could do. She lived on the other side of Staten Island and was only in Brooklyn for the day for a housecleaning job.

 

What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve. The church was almost full. The music and the spirit were great. At the end of the service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door and many said that they would return.

One older man, whom the pastor recognized from the neighborhood, continued to sit in one of the pews and stare, and the pastor wondered why he wasn’t leaving. The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on the front wall because it was identical to one that his wife had made years ago when they lived in Austria before the war and how could there be two tablecloths so much alike.

He told the pastor how the Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee for her safety, and he was supposed to follow her, but he was arrested and put in a prison. He never saw his wife or his home again all the 35 years in between. The pastor asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little ride. They drove to Staten Island and to the same house where the pastor had taken the woman three days earlier.

He helped the man climb the three flights of stairs to the woman’s apartment, knocked on the door and he saw the greatest Christmas reunion he could ever imagine. 

Ever thought of missed out opportunities in your life? I certainly have, ah those of course the chances which I was aware … then what about the ones I wasn’t aware?

Whether this story, a fiction or real, I cannot help but notice, the many times it speaks of grabbing opportunity. If you fail to see my meaning then allow me to point out how the end of the story was determined, merely because the characters decided to grasp the (limited or you may even say, were insignificant) opportunities which were at hand, especially when it looked everything was working against them.

One instance was the rain damaging the paint, the pastor had to think of an alternative, and he thought of making the maximum out of a tablecloth, which was available but what if the pastor ignored the chance given, went for a different possible choice?

Then there’s no story to tell.

And then the old lady misses the bus, the Pastor invites her to take refuge under the church roof, she accepts, and sees the familiar table cloth and recognizes, what if she didn’t miss the bus or take Pastors’ offer? Wouldn’t she have missed the opportunity to meet her long lost spouse?

My point is that, we too can tell our stories one day to our young ones. They’d notice, the opportunities we grabbed and the ones we let go.

Opportunities are obviously there … however, it’s our choice … which makes the difference, sometimes, opportunities seem insignificant and they come knocking when there’s chaos around, but if you fail to hear the faint knocking or to look around with a different point of view … opportunities will slip away, without you even knowing they were there!

Situation : 01

I became pregnant in very unfortunate circumstances. I had been having a relationship with someone who had been told that he couldn’t have children, so we hadn’t been using contraception. On what must have been the last occasion that we had sex though – just before we broke up – I became pregnant. I found out two weeks later.

On finding out, I felt 30% happy, 30% devastated and 40% confused. The father made it clear that he didn’t want anything to do with the situation, and I really didn’t know what to do myself. It wasn’t until a couple of weeks later that I made the decision to have an abortion. It was a difficult decision – I would definitely like to have children one day – but I knew it just wasn’t the right time for me to have a baby.

Setting up the procedure was fairly straightforward and I had an early medical abortion at six weeks – the process is that you go in on the first day and take a tablet, and a few days later you insert a tampon that is infused with another drug. That empties your womb.

This procedure was quite simple, but not without its problems – you go through much of it at home, and I did feel very numb and alone

Situation: 2

A YOUNG mother clamps her hand over her baby as she tries to smother him in shocking footage played to a court. Seconds earlier, the secret hospital cameras had captured Shantaniqua Scott, 18, placing a blanket over the four-month-old’s face. The baby desperately kicks and struggles for life – and by the time she removes her hand, his body appears limp and still.
Incredibly, he survived the attempt on his life after alarms went off and doctors rushed in to help him. The footage was yesterday played to a courtroom in Fort Worth, Texas, where Scott is on trial for attempting to kill her baby son Raymond Jurors sat in stunned silence as the sickening video was played.

The tot had been taken into hospital after he was reported to have stopped breathing. Doctors at first thought he suffered from severe acid reflux, when acid from the stomach backs up into the oesophagus. He had surgery to correct the condition and was released from the Cook Children’s Medical Centre.

But two days later he was back in the emergency unit after he mysteriously stopped breathing again.

Staff suspected he was the victim of abuse and set up a hidden camera on the ward.

Heart specialist Dr Sami Heed said the baby would have died but for the intervention of staff when his monitors sounded an alarm. He told the court: “I get night sweats when I think about it.

“I take care of the sickest of the sick. His life was being put in danger by someone who was supposed to take care of him.”

Jurors were told Scott confessed to police she no longer wanted to care for her son and admitted smothering him.

Sgt Pedro Criado, of Fort Worth Police Department, said Scott told detectives she did not want her child anymore. He added: “She just basically stated that she wanted to go back to that carefree attitude she had before she had the child.”

Doctors said it was not known if the child, now being looked after by social workers, would have any lasting injuries from the lack of oxygen.

Scott faces life imprisonment if convicted of two counts of causing serious bodily injury to a child in July 2010.

Situation: 3

If you are a woman who has spent your life imagining what it would be like to have a child, then you know how exciting it is when you finally decide that you are ready to make that leap. You are finally prepared to put yourself second. You are willing to make a child the number one priority in life. You are ready to get pregnant.

If you are a woman who has tried and tried and who has been unable to conceive, then you also know the veritable barrage of emotions that you encounter — grief, embarrassment, uselessness.

As a 27 year-old woman I have been married for almost three years and have been with the same man since I was a junior in high school. I can hardly remember a time when I didn’t want to have children with him. I cannot remember a time at all, for that matter, when I didn’t daydream about being a mother. I feel very strongly that we are all on this planet for a very specific reason and I have always thought that my reason was being a mother.

Every woman in my family is like a fertility machine. They get pregnant the first time they try. They get pregnant every time they try. Imagine my surprise when after a year of trying I still wasn’t pregnant.

You might not think about it often, but it’s a relative shot in the dark. It is amazing how many people get pregnant unexpectedly, actually. It has to happen one of three or four specific days which are often hard to pinpoint for many women.

Frustration sets in. Why me? Why can so many people get pregnant the one time they have unprotected sex while I’m doing everything ever suggested by doctors, old wives tales, myths, and the woman down the street who has eight kids?

When you spend a year trying to conceive and are unable, it is often considered an early sign of infertility. You (and your partner) are then subjected to every test under the sun, most of which involve full or partial nudity in front of one or more people, often with legs spread in a very compromising position.

For many, these tests reveal very little. Some slight hormonal imbalances, a “barely” low count here or there. These things all result in orders to eat better, lose weight, and are more likely than not accompanied by some sort of medication that will throw your body into complete turmoil — in my case, starvation tempered by the fact that the sight of food makes me sick. Exhausted but unable to sleep. Oh, and did I mention the hot flashes?

Another year goes by. I start to feel guilty. My husband and I have always planned to have children. The doctors believe it is likely something in my body causing the problem. As a woman, if I am not able to conceive, what is my purpose? I can say with absolute certainty that my husband does not hold even an ounce of contempt or blame for me. That does not hold off the guilt and feelings of uselessness. They rear their ugly heads on a daily basis.

With the guilt comes the worst feeling of all. When you want so desperately to have a child and cannot, you begin to begrudge the people around you the same happiness you want for yourself.

One of my best friends becomes pregnant. I am simultaneously happy for her and extremely bitter. Her baby shower is torture because not only do I feel angry that things are so good for her, I feel like a heinous person for even having these thoughts in the first place. I am angry at everyone, including myself.

The kicker of all of this? Stress, they say, makes it harder to conceive. Right. No problem.

So here we are, almost three years into the process (because that’s exactly what it’s become – a process) with no results. I am on the cusp of having exploratory surgery to see if there is something being missed. Fertility treatments are not an option for us. Adoption would be wonderful… five years down the road after we can save up the $25,000+ that it would take.

It would be nice for this to have a happy ending like me writing in all bold letters “I’m pregnant!” I’m not. But, I can say that taking the time to explore the virtual tidal wave of emotions that I’ve gone through, and am still experiencing, has made them much easier to weather.

A child … is considered as Hope … why not … indeed.

You were a child, once. I was too.

What if … our mothers had to go through one of the above mentioned situations? What then … ?

I won’t be here writing this … you won’t be here to read either …

May be the answer … to all situations … is Adoption!

Think people … A joey climbs into its mother’s pouch upon being born, honeybees communicate by dance the direction of a food source without formal instruction, animal courtships, internal escape functions, and building of nests … everyone of these … represent nature, natural instincts.

We humans are born for a purpose, we need guidance, pampering, love, and protection … most importantly bringing new lives in to the world … meaningful lives that is of course … for continuity.

Let’s hope … one day humans will learn to value human lives … once again …

Let’s hope … a baby labeled as ‘unwanted’ finds a ‘needy ‘mother …

for both …  only have one thing … and one thing only …

Hope …

Anne’s Story

I don’t remember the first time I learned I was adopted. It wasn’t like in the movies: There was no shocking revelation or teary-eyed confession. It has just always been a part of who I am.

Sure, when I was younger it sometimes made me feel different than the other children. Whenever I made a wish, especially on my birthday, I would think of my biological mother. I’d wonder where I came from and if she shared my eye color. But most of the time, my adoption story just struck me as special. My mom was somewhat religious and told me it was God’s way of putting our family together. So I just always knew this was how my life was meant to be, and it was never something I kept hidden.

Over the years, I’ve felt so fortunate for the life I’ve led. My mom repeatedly reassured me how my biological parents chose adoption because they loved me, so I’ve never once resented their choice. Instead, I’m thankful for the opportunities adoption has provided me – an amazing childhood with caring parents. My dad was a lawyer who coached all of my sports teams, and my mom was a teacher who stayed at home with us for a good chunk of our childhood. I lived in a nice suburb of Chicago, and I was always surrounded by my large extended family. My brother was also adopted from The Cradle, so I didn’t feel alone in that regard.

Still, in the past, I did occasionally find it difficult to relate to other people. But that feeling was rare, and when it happened I would turn to my parents for comfort. They would help me understand my background, or at least as much as they knew about it. I was adopted in 1979 when closed adoption was still the norm, so the information they could pass on was limited. Even so, they knew my history was important, and they even brought me back to The Cradle to see the nursery where I stayed as a baby.

About a year ago, I reached out to The Cradle to find out more about my biological parents. I had been diagnosed with breast cancer and wanted to do a file check on my medical history. As luck would have it, it turned out my biological mother had also recently contacted The Cradle to reach out to me. One of The Cradle’s social workers asked if I would be willing to exchange a letter, and so I did.

I still don’t know my biological mother too well, but I think she was relieved to hear how I’ve turned out. But because my life has been more tumultuous recently, I’m taking our reconnection just one step at a time, moving forward at a slow pace. I’ve only written that one letter, and she has sent me a couple. Still, I’m eager to strengthen our relationship and I’m looking forward to what lies ahead.

And it’s Hope …

                                 Don’t you think?

Time has changed … irreversibly changed I know … and I can’t help think that it was a beautiful time we had … a few decades ago … when we were young, getting up early in the morning and studying was fun … getting dressed and running to catch the school bus was fun too … seeing our favorite teachers … spending time with our friends … enjoying each day was absolute fun … not to forget all sorts of childhood activities … actually they were not just activities … they were super fun activities …

 

I’d recall something like … standing near the 3rd floor (our classroom) windowsill … and poking the broom stick out … on to the mango tree … adjacent to the building … trying pry the mangoes from its stem and leaving one of us under the tree to collect the mangoes (she’d pretend to be waiting for someone …  in case the principle sees her and inquires what business she has under a mango tree at the hour when she s supposed to be studying in the class) …

 

Once we successfully liberate those juicy mangoes from the tree … we’d bring them up to the class and distribute equally … we’d peel them off and cut them in to pieces and sneak them in to our pockets and munch away … oh well I forgot to tell you … we tasted them but not during our Tiffin break … who could wait?… so we’d decide to attack our pockets while the teachers were in the class … teaching…

 

We’d take a bite … leave the rest of the piece in pockets … assuming our teacher would not see … but it could be a real mess when she all of a sudden asks us a question … oh sweet mother of god … how to answer when your mouth s full??

 

And she‘d say “ohh still not finished?? how many you guys got this time??” … alas … the secret’s never been a secret after all … and we’d turn red …

 

I suppose the kind of influence … experience … joy … nurturing we had … only belonged the era we lived as kids … these aspects made us different people I’d say … unlike kids in present generations … our generation and the generations before us … were more compassionate … our sensitive nature wouldn’t change over time … even when we went on different paths … started to follow our destiny …

 

I came across such person … belonged to a different generation … a senior to me of course … amazingly passionate … and he surprises me …  

 

Take a look at what he has to offer … to the next generation …

 

In this time of year you can enjoy the beauty of the polar mesospheric clouds. With our high-angle illumination, we were able to capture a thin layer of noctilucent clouds at sunset.

‘Mystery Island’ …located in the Indian Ocean close to Madagascar. Interesting features on the island and the unusual shape should be enough to help you discover this beautiful place.

Of all the places of our beautiful planet few can rival the beauty and richness of colors in the Bahamas. In this photo, our ship is seen against the backdrop of the Bahamas.

Northern lights in the distance in one of the finest nights over Europe. The photo clearly shows the Strait of Dover. Paris is dazzling with the city lights. A little fog over the western part of England, particularly over London.

Above the center of the Atlantic Ocean, before another stunning sunset. Downstairs in the setting sun visible spiral Hurricane Earl.

Wonder whose work this’s?

Douglas H Wheelock an Astronaut of NASA

PERSONAL DATA: Born May 5, 1960 in Binghamton, New York and considers Windsor, New York to be his hometown. Doug’s parents, Olin and Margaret Wheelock, reside in upstate New York.

EDUCATION: Graduated from Windsor Central High School, Windsor, New York, in 1978. Received a Bachelor of Science degree in Applied Science and Engineering from the United States Military Academy, West Point in 1983, and a Master of Science degree in Aerospace Engineering from Georgia Tech in 1992

search for more of his work on :

http://www.amusingplanet.com/2010/11/astronaut-douglas-wheelock-shares.html

  

  

 

Again … and again … mankind has been threatened by Mother Nature …

These days one would wake up wondering … “where she attacked today”

And it seems to me … that she has taken a decision against us … the unruly … ungrateful children of hers … she obviously has decided that …

“All good things must come to an end …”

and she goes again … its payback time … it s the turn of Japanese …

God … have mercy …

So long ago lived the Mayans …

Like everything else they predicted (their calculations rather extraordinary they say …  & proven correct) … will the existing world would end soon?

Is this s the beginning of the end?

 

According to Mayans:

 

 

 

After over 5,126 years, the Mayan long count calendar is coming to an end. They had two yearly calendars: the solar and the religious.  They also had a 52-year span called a calendar round

The solar calendar lasted 365 days and was comprised of 18 20-day months with an additional 5 days at the end.  This calendar was known as the Haab and was based on astrology.

The religious calendar was 260 days long and consisted on 20 13-day months.  This calendar was known as the Tzolk’in.  The Mayans believed that every day was a new god whose behavior could be predicted by using the two yearly calendars.

These two calendars went together like meshed gears so that every day could be found using either calendar.  The days did not repeat for 52 years.  The first day of the first Haab (solar) calendar was the first day of the first Tzolk’in (religious) calendar; however, the first day of the second Haab calendar (the 366th day) was the 106th day of the second Tzolk’in calendar, because the Tzolk’in calendar had started year two on only the 261st day of the Haab calendar (our September).  Every 52 years this cycle would repeat and that 52-year span was referred to as the calendar round.

The long count calendar is entirely different.  The premise of the long count is simply to add a number after every day of an age until you get to the last day.  In their counting system, the last day would look like this: 13,0,0,0,0.  They add another number for every day and this goes on for over 5000 years! 

 Imagine getting up in the morning and saying, “It’s day 153,783 and the weather is great!”

Now, after all these individual days being counted one-by-one, we are reaching the final day of the Mayan long count.  Now that you understand the intricate counting system of the Mayan calendars, you can further appreciate the final countdown to the end of an age.

Ok now this  …  is a bit too complicated for me

still … I wonder … is this an inevitable

or something we could have prevented

 

Whatever the ancient have said … I believe we are mostly to be blamed …

Here s what seems to me … what Mother Nature trying to tel us:

Human:    “oh Mother Nature … how can you be so cruel …

                     what’s   going  on? … what are you doing to us ?”

Mother Nature: “well my ungrateful children …

                                   it s going to be back to basics for you …

                                 If you can recall … here’s what you have done so far to me”

 

“I lost my precious trees …

and my lands started slip in to rivers … so I sent

what  you’d call  floods …”

“The lands without trees … stopped fighting with the sun … dried up … got cracked … no shades … the sun played havoc … he sent his beam down  harshly … everything started to boil down … created heat waves … outside … and even the inner elements started heating up … bursting power … so irruptions everywhere … you d call them earthquakes …”

 

“Not only you destroyed what was precious to me … you went and sabotaged the entire natural process on earth … my beautiful self … is disfigured by pollution … “

 

 

 

“So there will be … melting ice, rising sea levels … and causing earthquakes and sending tsunami or whatever you call them … “

 

” these will allow me to start a fresh …”

“after wiping out you all … the ungrateful …  stinking creatures … there will be new life … “

“all will start from the beginning … so I’m on – back to basics – business now … hold tight … and pray for mercy …“

So … people …

                                 it’s time to pray …

 

 

The Sacred Seven Prayers

 

 

O Great Spirit, who art before all else and who dwells in every object, in every person and in every place, we cry unto Thee. We summon Thee from the far places into our present awareness.

O Great Spirit of the North, who gives wings to the waters of the air and rolls the thick snowstorm before Thee, Who covers the Earth with a sparkling crystal carpet above whose deep tranquility every sound is beautiful. Temper us with strength to withstand the biting blizzards, yet make us thankful for the beauty which follows and lies deep over the warm Earth in its wake.

O Great Spirit of the East, the land of the rising Sun, Who holds in Your right hand the years of our lives and in Your left the opportunities of each day. Brace us that we may not neglect our gifts nor lose in laziness the hopes of each day and the hopes of each year.

O Great Spirit of the South, whose warm breath of compassion melts the ice that gathers round our hearts, whose fragrance speaks of distant springs and summer days, dissolve our fears, melt our hatreds, kindle our love into flames of true and living realities. Teach us that he who is truly strong is also kind, he who is wise tempers justice with mercy, he who is truly brave matches courage with compassion.

O Great Spirit of the West, the land of the setting Sun, with Your soaring mountains and free, wide rolling prairies, bless us with knowledge of the peace which follows purity of striving and the freedom which follows like a flowing robe in the winds of a well-disciplined life. Teach us that the end is better than the beginning and that the setting sun glorifies not in vain.

O Great Spirit of the heavens, in the day’s infinite blue and amid the countless stars of the night season, remind us that you are vast, that you are beautiful and majestic beyond all of our knowing or telling, but also that you are no further from us than the tilting upwards of our heads and the raising of our eyes.

Pray daily … it could be you and me … next !!!

Crack addict is charged over prison murder of notorious child sex killer

By Stephen Wright and Christian Gysin

A crack addict prisoner has today been charged over the murder of another notorious child sex killer.

Damien Fowkes, 35, was arrested after Colin Hatch was allegedly taken hostage and strangled by a fellow inmate at the maximum security Full Sutton prison near York on Tuesday night.

Police said that Hatch, who was serving life for the appalling sex murder of seven year old Sean Williams, was strangled to death.

The young boy was snatched after going for a bike ride on a summer’s evening in 1993.

  

Damian Fowkes, left, has been held over the killing of paedophile murderer Colin Hatch, right

Last night the dead boy’s mother said her ex-husband, John Williams, was ‘ecstatic’ over the killing and told her: ‘Justice had finally been done.’

Lynn Williams, 53, said she felt ‘numb’ over the death.

Fowkes is alleged to have taken Hatch hostage for up to an hour before killing him with a ligature in a barricaded cell.

He will appear before magistrates in Beverley, East Yorkshire, by video-link tomorrow, Humberside Police said.

Justice Secretary Kenneth Clarke ordered an urgent inquiry into the death on the vulnerable prisoners’ wing at Full Sutton prison near York on Tuesday night.

Fowkes, a convicted robber, was transferred there last year from Frankland jail in Durham, another of Britain’s most secure prisons.

The prison inquiry will focus on how Fowkes ended up on the same wing as another reviled paedophile.

One senior source said: ‘It beggars belief that someone who has a burning hatred of paedophiles could be housed in the same wing as someone like Hatch.’ Police confirmed a 35-year-old prisoner had been arrested on suspicion of murder.

Murdered: Seven-year-old Sean Williams

Hatch, 38, was serving life for the murder of Sean in North London in 1993, while on parole for a previous child sex attack. He had a string of convictions for assaulting young boys when he was locked up in January 1994.

Jailing Hatch, Judge Nina Lowry said he was ‘highly dangerous’ and told him it was not possible to envisage a time when he could be released safely.

Sentencing him at the Old Bailey, the judge said: ‘In my judgment, you should never be released back into the community while there remains the slightest danger you will reoffend.’

Unemployed Hatch, then 21, smirked when he heard the verdict. Two years previously, he was jailed for three years for assaulting a boy of eight in almost identical circumstances.

His lawyer warned he could kill when he was released.

Within 11 weeks of being paroled in April 1993, Hatch fulfilled that chilling prediction.

Sean was abducted, sexually assaulted and choked to death after Hatch lured him to his tower block home in Norfolk Close, Finchley, North London.

A postman discovered the youngster’s body taped up in bin liners and dumped in a lift.

Last night the woman who Fowkes married in 2005, Julie Christie, claimed not to know of his murder arrest.

Before slamming the door, Miss Christie, 39, claimed they had split up. The couple had a daughter in 1998.

Fowkes’s mother, Jayne White, could not be reached for comment at her home nearby.

Since the Huntley incident, several social networking tribute pages have been set up ‘in honor’ of Fowkes, praising him for the attack.

Fowkes is due to stand trial for attempted murder at Newcastle Crown Court in July. At a previous hearing, he pleaded not guilty to both charges.

‘I’m numb’ says murdered boy’s mother

The mother of the seven-year-old  boy murdered by Colin Hatch said she was ‘numbed’ by the news of the killer’s death.

Lynn Williams last saw son Sean as he sped off for a bike ride near his home just before 6pm on July 19, 1993. He had shouted: ‘Love you, Mum’ before cycling away.
Just 15 minutes later, he was snatched by Hatch.

‘Hearing the news that Hatch had been murdered himself brought back all the memories,’ Mrs Williams, 53, said last night. ‘I feel just numb at the moment – it feels just like the day Sean died and I have just been going through everything in my mind.

‘I don’t feel pleased about what has happened to Hatch. He has died leaving so many questions unanswered. What I do feel, though, is that perhaps his family will begin to understand what dealing with grief is all about.’

Mrs Williams, a carer who was recently made redundant, added that she was ‘appalled’ that news of Hatch’s death came from her ex-husband rather than the authorities.

‘I could have turned on the television myself and that would have been a hell of a shock.

Anguish: The funeral of seven-year-old Sean Williams. His parents John and Lynne Williams follow the coffin

‘My former husband John rang when he saw the news on TV and it’s fair to say that both he and my daughter Sarah were ecstatic at the news. John said justice had finally been done after 18 years.’

Mrs Williams, who lives with a new partner in Friern Barnet, North  London, added: ‘I did ask the authorities if I could visit Hatch to talk to him. There were things I wanted to know – for instance, why there were  certain bruises on Sean’s body.

‘I have always wanted to know exactly what happened once he got Sean in that flat because over the years I have had nightmares about what might or might not have been done to my son.’

Mrs Williams added: ‘I am really the only member of the family who still goes to visit Sean. I went to see him this morning and told him what had happened with Hatch.’

The Prison Service contacted Mrs Williams at 5pm, seven hours after the story broke.

 

This s real life drama … amazing situation … different people might hold different judgements over this … and people debate over human rights a lot these days …

 

Human rights – Oh, how we love those two words … but what is it? this so called “right” anyway? according to the law … it says:

  

Article 2: Right to life

1.  Everyone’s right to life shall be protected by law. No one shall be deprived of his life intentionally save in the execution of a sentence of a court following his conviction of a crime for which the penalty is provided by law.
 

2.  Deprivation of life shall not be regarded as inflicted in contravention of this Article when it results from the use of force which is no more than absolutely necessary.

  • in defense of any person from unlawful violence.
  • in order to effect a lawful arrest or to prevent the escape of a person lawfully detained.
  • in action lawfully taken for the purpose of quelling a riot or insurrection.

  

oh but …  it also says:

  

Article 6: The right to a fair and public hearing

  

1. In the determination of his civil rights and obligations or of any criminal charge against him, everyone is entitled to a fair and public hearing within a reasonable time by an independent and impartial tribunal established by law. Judgment shall be pronounced publicly but the press and public may be excluded from all or part of the trial in the interest of morals, public order or national security in a democratic society, where the interests of juveniles or the protection of the private life of the parties so require, or to the extent strictly necessary in the opinion of the court in special circumstances where publicity would prejudice the interests of justice.

2. Everyone charged with a criminal offence shall be presumed innocent until proved guilty according to law.

3. Everyone charged with a criminal offence has the following minimum rights:

a) to be informed promptly, in a language which he understands and in detail, of the nature and cause of the accusation against him;

b) to have adequate time and facilities for the preparation of his defence;

c) to defend himself in person or through legal assistance of his own choosing or, if he has not sufficient means to pay for legal assistance, to be given it free when the interests of justice so require;

d) to examine or have examined witnesses against him and to obtain the attendance and examination of witnesses on his behalf under the same conditions as witnesses against him;

e) to have the free assistance of an interpreter if he cannot understand or speak the language used in court.

 

Well … now I’m seriously confused …  now according to the law … who has violated whose rights here??

 

Everyone, irrelevant to their deeds … have ‘rights’ … hence protected by the law …  a  criminal as same as a low abiding human? … really? oh wow …

 

If by giving only a “life sentence “to a person (an animal sort, who’s been born in the form of a human) who destroyed an innocent life … a defenseless little child … justifying ‘his ‘human rights, haven’t’ the law fail miserably here?

 

 

I do think so …

 

 

law surely has stolen the justice away from a poor little boy … and of his parents … 

 

Now … there’s this other felon ….what about him?? Has he done the correct thing, taking law in to his hands? has he given the due justice to Sean and his parents? … on behalf of the law? …

 

not that I approve of his fabulous life style … but I’d say … yes …

 

By saying this … I dont declare ‘eye for an eye’ … all I ‘m saying is … verdict by law isn’t accurate … always … in the public eyes …

 

Would I become a criminal? for voicing my strong opinions?  … certainly not … you see I’m protected by ‘Human rights‘ too…

 

 why … I’m allowed to hold my opinion as per another act 

 

  “Freedom of Expression” …  

 

 

as  it says :

 

Article 10: Freedom of expression

1. Everyone has the right to freedom of expression. This right shall include freedom to hold opinions and to receive and impart information and ideas without inference by public authority and regardless of frontiers. This Article shall not prevent States from requiring the licensing of broadcasting, television or cinema enterprises.

2. The exercise of these freedoms, since it carries with it duties and responsibilities, may be subject to such formalities, conditions, restrictions or penalties as are prescribed by law and are necessary in a democratic society, in the interests of national security, territorial disorder or crime, for the protection of health or morals, for the protection of the reputation or rights of others, for preventing the disclosure of information received in confidence, or for maintaining the authority and impartiality of the judiciary.

alas … my freedom … how wonderful!

 

 

Assume there are about 10 families living down your road … four of them have 2 – 3 kids –parents married, both working; another two have single child each – parents married , father works – mother housewife; another two families 2 – 3 kids – single parents – working of course; and the rest, either living-in partners or singles …

 

Each of these families have got their own set of rules of living … value systems, traditions, patterns of doing things, methods of raising kids, different social lives …

 

Beyond any doubt, they surely overcome many hurdles in day today life …  but if you think about it … aren’t they doing the same thing every day like every one of us?  In different ways may be? They live their lives … and that’s what they do …

 

One question though … would you call them ‘courageous’ … just because they go through many complications  every day, minor or major? … What about you and me? Would you call yourself courageous?? … Why not??

 

I believe we are as courageous as we can be … Who said it’s an easy life we have? … Each new day, one thing or another … yet we conquer … is it not?

 

So ok, it’s confirmed, we face each day and take anything and everything in our stride … we live our lives and we are daredevils … but are we “happy”? … Especially if you aren’t happy after going through hassles of life … if you still feel “some thing’s missing“what’s the purpose of running this relay each passing day? …

 

It’s so gallant of you, if you could say “Oh well … I have the perfect life, have no complains … I never whine” … In a fairy tale, sure … but in truth we all do feel sometimes that we haven’t got enough or we could do better in life … if you’d think “oh how lucky I am … if I could live the life of Angelina Jolie / Prince William … just for one day“… Why assume? that they have the most care free lives? ask them … and they’d tell you that it’s not what you think it is … Sure, we have incomplete lives … we don’t have this and we don’t have that … Of course, we know that every day s not going to be the same … there are ups and downs in life … but still there’s nothing wrong in striving for the best? Is there? …  No … absolutely not … so again, we chase this and we chase that … but hey, still … there’s something missing … hmm …

 

Say you were born in to a broken family … as a kid you have been shuffling between parents … or just had one parent to care … or your parents lived their own lives … they weren’t really bothered about you (but you are here, aren’t you? they gave birth to you, didn’t they? that’s enough I suppose, if nothing else to count) …

……………………………or they loved you no matter what … not much of comforts they could provide you though… but they gave you love, protection and a sound education … Do you see any bad karma in any of these situations?  Is there anything here for you to complain about?

 

People … If you have got all your body parts functioning properly … I mean “ all of it”… be glad, and if you have someone to call mom – dad … though they aren’t together any more or they care – less … (unlike an orphan , at least you know who they are), still …  be glad … if you know  how to differentiate what’s good – bad for you and if you could stay out of troubles … be glad, if you could get some education … have a decent way of earning your daily bread … be glad … there’s nothing to complain. If you live frustrated life thinking you are the most unlucky … or if you think yours are biggest problems … then what would you say about a blind, a deaf, or an orphan, or a person who have never seen the insides of a school, or a jobless??

 

If we think positive … have inner strength, wisdom and courage … during this short time between Birth and Death … then, we can consider our selves as true winners … we sure need to learn how to appreciate what we’ve got … you need to face reality of life and appreciate life at the same time …

 

It’s not only you and me (the lucky ones) … everyone else go through problems, a beggar, a crippled, an orphan … they too face life …

When you are in ‘hot waters’ never have “self pity” … it s like “quick sand” … the more you indulge in pity, the more you sink …

When you are on a cliffhanger … think … if you get over it … you’ll be on top of a mighty rock …

…………. and

If you are on tracks of time … running the marathon of life … think … Ana Quirot … you’d summon courage ….

 

Personal Information

Full name Ana Fidelia Quirot; born in 1963, in Santiago de Cuba, Oriente, Cuba; married Raul Cascaret (a wrestler; deceased).

Life’s Work

 

Ana Quirot (Keer-OAT) was born in the suburbs of Santiago de Cuba, in the country’s Oriente province. Athleticism ran in the Quirot family. Ana’s father was a boxer, her brother ran the 400 meter dash, and her sister has played basketball with the Cuban national team. In her earliest years Ana seemed destined to be the exception to her family’s rule. Her friends called her “La Gorda,” which means “fatty.” Interestingly enough, the label has stuck even through a decade of world championships. If she was fat as a young girl, she soon enough shed the weight when she began running seriously as a teen. At the age of 13 she won placement in one of Cuba’s prestigious state sports schools. There her conventional education was embellished by a serious training regimen in a state- of-the-art facility. Therefore Quirot’s parents did not have to pay a penny for her coaching, room and board, or other fees. The state paid for everything. As James Anderson noted in the Los Angeles Times, Quirot “was groomed and conditioned to become the world-class athlete that she is.” For the tiny island nation of Cuba, sports championships are a means to establish international stature. Only ten million residents strong, Cuba is able to boast Olympic medals and world championships in sports as varied as boxing, baseball, and track and field. Chief among the Cuban track and field stars of the last decade is Ana Quirot, whose brave comeback from a potentially career-ending injury was the talk of the 1996 Summer Olympic Games.

Quirot’s chance to prove herself on the international level for the first time came in the late 1980s and early 1990s. She won double gold medals in the 400 and 800 meters at the 1987 Pan American Games, then in 1989 turned in an undefeated year in the 800 meter race. Her string of 39 consecutive victories in the 800, as well as her dominance at that distance in 1989, led to her being chosen as female athlete of the year by the International Amateur Athletic Federation.

Going into the 1991 Pan American Games ranked at or near the top in both the 400 and 800, Quirot dazzled the hometown crowd by winning gold medals in both races and breaking the Pan Am records at both distances. Few victories were ever sweeter for Quirot–she had helped to carry the bricks and mortar that built the stadium in which the games were played. Another challenge presented itself: the 1992 Summer Olympics in Barcelona, Spain. There, in the early weeks of a pregnancy, Quirot ran the 800 in 1:56.80 for a bronze medal. Widely admired for her beauty as well as her talent, she seemed poised to take the world by storm. No one could have foreseen the strange turn her life would take in the wake of an unfortunate freak accident.

On January 23, 1993, Quirot–then seven months pregnant–was preparing to launder clothes in her apartment. A long-standing economic embargo of Cuba by Western nations combined with a cessation of aid from the Socialist bloc had led to severe shortages in Havana of nearly everything from gasoline to soap. Like many other Cubans, Quirot used a small kerosene-powered cookstove to do her laundry. She thought the stove was not lit when she added isopropyl alcohol to the hot water in the pot. The alcohol spilled over the lip of the pot, ran down the side and burst into flames when it hit the kerosene burner. In seconds Quirot was engulfed in a fire that burnt 38 percent of her body and brought her to the verge of death. Quirot regained consciousness in the burn unit at Havana’s Hermanos Ameijeiras Hospital, “I will run again,” she has said. She passed in and out of shock as her system reacted to the burns. Her baby, born prematurely, died. And her once-legendary beauty was marred by scars on her face and neck.

Nor was Quirot exempt from the speculation that surrounds any celebrity in the face of an accident. Rumors abounded that she had attempted suicide after ending her relationship with fellow track star Javier Sotomayor, the father of the deceased baby. Others said she had started the fire to try to win Sotomayor back. Quirot offered no explanations at the time, but she has since said the accident was just that, and that Sotomayor had actually been quite supportive, during her recovery. “When you’re famous, people are always speculating–and never in your favor,” she told Sports Illustrated. “Sometimes it’s good to be famous. Sometimes it’s bad.”

Facing numerous skin-graft operations and a very lengthy recovery period, Quirot fought depression and hopelessness by working out even in her hospital room. Within two months of the accident she was riding a stationary bike and running up and down the stairs in the hospital. She was released after three months, to the amazement of a hospital staff that had first thought she would not live and then thought her recovery would take a year. Less than four months after the fire, she was back on the track.

Quirot’s training time was restricted to the early morning and late evening hours when the sun could not hurt her damaged skin, and her ability to move was restricted by the scar tissue on her stomach, arms, and hands. Still she persisted. Her fighting spirit was intact. “It wasn’t only to win again that I drove myself, but to draw myself out,” she explained in the Chicago Tribune. “If I hadn’t been an elite athlete, I believe I wouldn’t have made it. In competitive sport, you learn to go beyond your means.”

In November of 1993 Quirot won a silver medal in the 800 meter at the Central American and Caribbean Games in Ponce, Puerto Rico. Her monumental victory helped to ease the sting of a mass defection of Cuban athletes at that event. Quirot was 29 when the accident occurred and was therefore believed to be in the twilight of her career anyway. She had other ideas, however. After missing the 1994 track season for no less than a dozen rounds of plastic surgery, she returned to contention in the 800 in 1995. At the world championships in Goteborg, Sweden in the summer of that year, Quirot won the gold medal in the 800 meter race before a crowd of 42,453 at Ullevi Stadium. Not only did the gold medal re-establish Quirot as a force to be reckoned with in the 800, it also made her the world champion going into an Olympic year. She was thrilled. “In my worst moments, I never thought I could come back so strongly,” she told the Chicago Tribune after the race. “This is the most beautiful victory of my life.”

Quirot stepped down in 1996 after having become Cuba’s most famous–and favorite–female athlete. Her fame in the international arena is assured as well, both as a symbol of fighting back from devastating injury and as a spokesperson for a struggling nation. She concluded in the Philadelphia Inquirer that sports had saved her life–that without her will to run again she would not have lived through her accident. “If I had not run again, I believe I would have died,” she said. “And when I started training again, that gave me life.”

We all have our own life to pursue, our own kind of dream to be weaving. And we all have some power to make wishes come true, as long as we keep believing.

– Louisa May Alcott