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Why the Guardian is going down the pan!

Hey parents, stop spoiling your lazy brats and send them round the world. It worked for this privately educated person.
If I were queen, I would send schoolchildren off into the wilds. They need to break out of our cosy world of convenience and instant access to digital everything, and get active.
I spent a month of my school holiday one year on a World Challenge trip, trekking across the Mexican desert, climbing to the top of a volcano, picking our way through Guatemalan jungle. We spent time living in a village in the middle of nowhere, helping to redecorate the local school and getting to know how the locals lived.
 
Hey parents, stop spoiling your lazy brats and send them round the world. It worked for this privately educated person.

To be fair my old housemate went to a comp and got to go to a world challenge trip. AFAIK its still got to be sponsored though, she had to raise money for it which is still going to put it out of reach of many people purely on that basis, let alone if their caring for sick relatives etc.
 
I heard about an American couple who said that last year they had gone on a round the world trip. They reported that they would be going "some place else" this year.
 
To be fair my old housemate went to a comp and got to go to a world challenge trip. AFAIK its still got to be sponsored though, she had to raise money for it which is still going to put it out of reach of many people purely on that basis, let alone if their caring for sick relatives etc.
She's presenting it as a moral failing rather than something that is just unaffordable because of boring shit like structural inequities.
 
"...We spent time living in a village in the middle of nowhere, helping to redecorate the local school and getting to know how the locals lived."

Nice combination of ignorance (middle of nowhere) and arrogance (the 'locals' are silent and passive) there. I pity the locals! I am also envisioning a school which gets 'redecorated' by the next batch every few weeks...
 
In fairness, I once had a student come to me and say that he was in trouble, had no thesis subject and was really worried by the looming deadline. I sat him down and said 'look you must have had to deal with a crisis of some sort in your life before' . . . and he said 'well, when my school was on a tour of Kazakhstan, one of my mates fell half way down a mountain and split his forehead open on some rocks, and I had to help carry him out on a stretcher'.

Imagine my surprise to discover that there are schools that take their students on tours of former soviet Central asia. I don't think we ever got further than the national musuem in Dublin.

Anyway, this lad and two of his fellow students set up their own wee NGO working in some remote and neglected part of Kenya, which appears to be still going. There's a whole load wrong with the NGO phenomenon in general, but these kids did at least try to be serious and do their bit, and not just paint the same school over and over again every few weeks, which as The Pale King notes is a real danger with this sort of thing.
 
In fairness, I once had a student come to me and say that he was in trouble, had no thesis subject and was really worried by the looming deadline. I sat him down and said 'look you must have had to deal with a crisis of some sort in your life before' . . . and he said 'well, when my school was on a tour of Kazakhstan, one of my mates fell half way down a mountain and split his forehead open on some rocks, and I had to help carry him out on a stretcher'.

Imagine my surprise to discover that there are schools that take their students on tours of former soviet Central asia. I don't think we ever got further than the national musuem in Dublin.

Anyway, this lad and two of his fellow students set up their own wee NGO working in some remote and neglected part of Kenya, which appears to be still going. There's a whole load wrong with the NGO phenomenon in general, but these kids did at least try to be serious and do their bit, and not just paint the same school over and over again every few weeks, which as The Pale King notes is a real danger with this sort of thing.

I have a lot to say about this. Out at an ice skating show about to start in a sec So later
 
In fairness, I once had a student come to me and say that he was in trouble, had no thesis subject and was really worried by the looming deadline. I sat him down and said 'look you must have had to deal with a crisis of some sort in your life before' . . . and he said 'well, when my school was on a tour of Kazakhstan, one of my mates fell half way down a mountain and split his forehead open on some rocks, and I had to help carry him out on a stretcher'.

Imagine my surprise to discover that there are schools that take their students on tours of former soviet Central asia. I don't think we ever got further than the national musuem in Dublin.

Anyway, this lad and two of his fellow students set up their own wee NGO working in some remote and neglected part of Kenya, which appears to be still going. There's a whole load wrong with the NGO phenomenon in general, but these kids did at least try to be serious and do their bit, and not just paint the same school over and over again every few weeks, which as The Pale King notes is a real danger with this sort of thing.

I know a few people that work for or helped set up NGOs doing this type of thing, most of them are not from rich gap yah backgrounds.
 
never-forget-122165000000bc.jpg
 
In fairness, I once had a student come to me and say that he was in trouble, had no thesis subject and was really worried by the looming deadline. I sat him down and said 'look you must have had to deal with a crisis of some sort in your life before' . . . and he said 'well, when my school was on a tour of Kazakhstan, one of my mates fell half way down a mountain and split his forehead open on some rocks, and I had to help carry him out on a stretcher'.

Imagine my surprise to discover that there are schools that take their students on tours of former soviet Central asia. I don't think we ever got further than the national musuem in Dublin.

Anyway, this lad and two of his fellow students set up their own wee NGO working in some remote and neglected part of Kenya, which appears to be still going. There's a whole load wrong with the NGO phenomenon in general, but these kids did at least try to be serious and do their bit, and not just paint the same school over and over again every few weeks, which as The Pale King notes is a real danger with this sort of thing.

I've met those types. It's anecdotal and probably unfair but invariably they have indeed been 'brats' with no self-awareness of how they've managed to be in a position to do that kind of thing.
 
Still up there.

I've read well and i've read deep and i think i've found the reason why:

“We must create ferments, discords and hostility. . . .The principal factor of success in the political is the secrecy of its undertakings. . . .We must compel the governments of the goyim to take action in the direction favored by our widely conceived plan. . .by what we shall represent as public opinion, secretly promoted by us through the means of that so-called 'great power' - the press, which with a few exceptions that may be disregarded, is already entirely in our hands. “

The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion, protocol #7

So it's to signal to racial comrades that they are among that press remnant that may not be disregarded
 
Perhaps not in keeping with the tone of the thread, but have an end-of-year compendium of entries in Pseuds' Corner, all on the subject of food.

http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2014/dec/14/best-thing-i-ate-in-2014
Allan Jenkins
Editor, Observer Food Monthly
The most memorable, if perhaps not the best, thing I ate: the live langoustine at Noma this summer. It arrived on ice, twitching. I started wriggling uncomfortably, too. “It’s alive?” I said quietly. “Just nerves,” came the gnomic Nordic reply. Then its legs moved, and its antenna. I tried to pull off its tail. It resisted. I tried to bite and it leapt alarmingly in my mouth. “Please don’t!” it almost whispered. Its tail had been flayed, like in Game of Thrones; it was nearly dead but didn’t know it. I split its delicious skull and sucked it. Death happens. Meat is murder.

Utterly vile
 
"The other day I saw one of our chefs, Davide di Fabio, coming back from the market with a box of black bananas. “They were free,” he said, “just sitting next to the trash.” Two days later he called me over to his quiet corner of the kitchen. “Does this remind you of anything?” I glanced at the black banana peel on the white plate and then I touched it. It wasn’t peel but ice-cream moulded into that shape. “Does this remind you of anything?” he asked me again. It took me a minute and then I shouted, “Warhol!” I’d found the original mono version of the Velvet Underground’s first album with Warhol’s name and banana peel on the cover in a used record store in New York. I’d brought it into the kitchen a week ago to show the team. I drew my finger across the plate severing the banana peel diagonally. I closed my eyes. Grilled, blackened banana-peel ice-cream with an intense smoky aftertaste and a creamy texture. I swiped my finger across it again. There was something else in there, too, something chewy and salty. I looked closely at the plate and there it was – seaweed. I couldn’t help but smile. I wasn’t eating discarded banana peels but trash ice-cream. And it was divine.”

Bullets made of organic sourdough fermented in tea-tree oil with coriander and seal jizz wouldn't be too good for him
 
"The other day I saw one of our chefs, Davide di Fabio, coming back from the market with a box of black bananas. “They were free,” he said, “just sitting next to the trash.” Two days later he called me over to his quiet corner of the kitchen. “Does this remind you of anything?” I glanced at the black banana peel on the white plate and then I touched it. It wasn’t peel but ice-cream moulded into that shape. “Does this remind you of anything?” he asked me again. It took me a minute and then I shouted, “Warhol!” I’d found the original mono version of the Velvet Underground’s first album with Warhol’s name and banana peel on the cover in a used record store in New York. I’d brought it into the kitchen a week ago to show the team. I drew my finger across the plate severing the banana peel diagonally. I closed my eyes. Grilled, blackened banana-peel ice-cream with an intense smoky aftertaste and a creamy texture. I swiped my finger across it again. There was something else in there, too, something chewy and salty. I looked closely at the plate and there it was – seaweed. I couldn’t help but smile. I wasn’t eating discarded banana peels but trash ice-cream. And it was divine.”

Bullets made of organic sourdough fermented in tea-tree oil with coriander and seal jizz wouldn't be too good for him


where do they find these people
 
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