Catholic Church Child Abuse

The Commission to Inquire into Child Abuse has published a report regarding the systematic abuse and torture by Catholic institutions in Ireland from 1936 onwards of children who were placed in their care.
It is unlikely that any of the abusers identified by the Commission will face prosecution.

The Catholic church has a long history of trying to cover the atrocities it has committed.

'I'm Going to Church'...The Review

On the way to the church I asked my 2 female friends if they could be themselves and try to ignore the fact that I was there as I wanted them to be their 'normal'.

The building was old with arched stained glass windows and inside the seating was on 2 levels. The downstairs section was crowded and so my friends suggested we head upstairs as the loud rock-style singing belted out.
As we took our seats near the front I was struck by the racial makeup of the congregation - a place that seemed to have almost every different race and mixes present. The black female singers on stage wore denim and high heels and had a slight air of indifference.

My eyes wandered around, darting everywhere as I noticed the peeling paint on the wall across the atrium.

The congregation sang loud and as the song almost came to its natural end a man in a suit with a microphone appeared on stage and said, "Lift your hands high...say, 'Lord, touch my life, I want to be changed, transformed, I give you all the honour and glory' - In Jesus' name."
The people clap and shout praises, waving their arms above their heads. The man starts to mumble and then gets louder and I realise he is speaking some kind of gibberish - 'speaking in tongues' and the people do the same. The murmurs get louder and louder and I watch people around me and a few have tears streaming down their faces. The singers leave the stage and the music stops.

The 1st suited man leaves the stage and another one appears, this time in a darker coloured suit. He tells us about how successful their recent missions have been. He has just returned from Mali where he saw over 500 people give their lives to Christ. (I notice my friends quickly glance over at me at this point. I don't meet their eyes. I don't want to convey my thoughts to them, although they surely know.)
The 2nd suited man continues, telling a story about the old man he met out there who couldn't see and God opened his eyes. And that a little boy was brought to him at the end of the service out there who couldn't speak and Jesus opened his mouth - 'Amen!'. The people said 'Amen!'.

It suddenly dawns on me that my friends had failed to let me know that the church they attend each and every Sunday was a place where they carried out 'healing sessions'. A 'charismatic ' church. I am in shock.

The man tells us to 'prepare for the battle - the final battle'. He hands over to a 3rd man also with a suit and a microphone but this man says he is going to sing a song about the mercy of God. His preamble prior to his song had 'Allejuiah' at the end of each sentence. He starts singing to a backing track. The crowd seems a little bored. I notice a man sitting on the ground floor directly below me with a large Bible open across his lap and he's using a bright orange fluorescent pen to highlight passages. He seems so focused on his task. He's probably mid- 40s. The man on stage is still singing and during his song ushers walk around distributing leaflets. The song comes to an end.
Then a 4th man arrives on stage, someone younger, who talks about the money raised so far to repair the roof and also there will be some a course available over the next few days which will help 'you to disciple to others so they can be led to Christ'. Also they are setting up a group to bring together all the creative members of the congregation so that they can help to 'drive the message forward'.

The Pastor arrives and the 4th man leaves the stage. The Pastor is an older white man who talks about how 'God's blessings' helped a woman to get a rebate of her Council Tax. He then talked about the CDs and DVDs which were available for 14.99GBP and 24.99GBP but could be downloaded for free. He emphasised the benefits of paying for them rather than downloading as they were in beautifully presented cases. He held them up and showed them around, telling the crowd they could buy them on the way out. He calls to the ushers to distribute the 'offering envelopes'.
He tells the crowd that 'god has not forgotten about your physical needs...Ezekiel 36...I will put my spirit in you...you will live in the land...I will save you from all your uncleanness...I will increase the fruits of the trees'. He continues, 'As we give we'll pray. It's like sowing a seed. It's sowing a seed. God knows your needs and gives when you give. The God of abundant supply. How much will your heavenly father provide for you? All these things will be given. He always provides. Amen. Allejuiah!' The crowd shout 'Amen' and 'Allejuiah'. The band and the singers arrive back on the stage and stay in the background.
He tells the crowd that if they complete the information on the envelope they have been given then they qualify for the governments Gift Aid scheme where the church can claim back 29% more than they give. As the ushers make their way around the church handing out the envelopes he asks for the crowd to pray: 'We thank you for people seeking jobs. Those who are struggling with issues, financially and we commit our offerings. Let us sing as we receive the offerings. Let us give and receive your offerings with joy!'
As the band starts playing the congregation stand and sing. A young boy a few seats down from me jumps up and dances wildly to the music. The crowd seems slightly subdued. The Pastor thinks so too and waves his hands at the band who lowers the volume of their playing. 'I don't think you feel it. This song says 'love came down and rescued me, I was once blind and now I see'!' The crowd took the hint and somehow managed to crank it up to a level that was acceptable to the pastor. He smiled. And clapped.
At the end of the song he asked the crowd to be seated. The ushers did the rounds with the envelopes and yellow plastic buckets.

Another man, a new person, arrived on stage - a man with a Northern accent and wearing trainers. He tells the congregated that 'Religion will try to bind you up, but Jesus will set you free' and 'God is not natural, god is supernatural! Amen.'
He talked about how god healed a man 5 years ago who had Parkinson's disease and a twisted spine. No one prayed for him he just was healed. "I get so excited that god wants to bless me with being able to heal through me.' 'You can leave here free cos my yoke is easy.'
He walked around the stage in an excited manner. 'Some fantastic miracles are taking place here tonight. I could jump off a doll's house!' The crowd applaud.
'When you die are you going to heaven? Jesus paid the debt for our sins at Calvary by grace - this was a gift from god. He had a crown of thorns on his head...' (he became choked with emotion at this point) '...he was was dying for YOU! and me...'
'I used to be a gambler and went to the best casinos and had the best cars, stayed in the best hotels but there is no buzz like Jesus! I used to leave nightclubs with pains and I didn't even know where I was. When I found Christ indescribable things happened to me. The Gospel can transform England and the world. This God is a supernatural god and people will be healed.'
He said a prayer for all those who wanted to repent of their sins and receive Christ. He asked for those who had prayed with him who had not yet received Christ to raise their hands. He acknowledged them and thanked them. He asked if there were other people who had not raised their hands but wanted to to do so. A few more people raised their hands. He asked them all to come to the edge of the stage.
He directed his next comments at those people had not come forward, 'You are going to burn in hell if you die tomorrow. This is your final opportunity to receive Christ. Christ died naked in front of his mother for you. Leave your seat that the Devil has you super-glued to right now.'
Turning to the 7 people gathered below him he said, 'I'm going to pray for these people' and he called on the Pastor to join in the prayer. Each person had an usher assigned to them and the the ushers and the new Christians walked off into the back area of the church.
The 2 men were joined on stage by 2 other guys who stood off to one side. The man with the trainers appealed to those who had any pain in their bodies to come up to the front. Along the front edge of the stage were church aides who would greet those people and talk to them. Several people lined up down an aisle. A woman usher assigned each person presenting themselves for healing with an aide. Each aide touched the person and spoke to them in their ears. Some people, after discussions were passed down to a group of men who lined them up near the stairs to the stage.
An elderly woman was ushered up the stairs towards the middle where Mr Trainers man stood with another man. The man asked her where she had pain and she said she felt pain in her foot. She was a woman from Portugal and her English was not fluent. She answered the questions he asked as if she was bewildered by the whole experience. She said she had pain for about 6 months but she hadn't seen a doctor. Whilst she was speaking a 3rd man came up and stood behind her with his hands out - no doubt expecting her to fall over at some point. Mr Trainers Man placed his hand on her head and blew puffs of air 3 times towards her head and shouted, 'Lord, set her free! Loose her from this pain, oh merciful God!' She was asked if the pain had gone. She hesitated and then shook her leg, hesitated again and then said, 'Gone.' The man turned to the crowd and shouted, 'The pain has gone! The pain has gone! The merciful Lord has set her free! Praise God! Allejuiah!' He punched the air. The crowd clapped and shouted, 'Allejuiah!' 'Amen!' 'Jesus is Lord!'
An elderly man limped onto stage and explained that he had fallen down 2 years ago and now suffers from severe arthritic pain. He was supporting it with a bandage but the pain 'comes and goes'. He was a black man with a strong accent from somewhere in Africa. The Trainers man bent over and grabbed the man's knee shouting gibberish/speaking in tongues and exalting the higher power to heal the man and rid him of the knee pain. The 'healed' man was encouraged to walk up and down to show he had been healed. He limped away down the stairs to clapping and whooping. There were another 2 encounters and I think at this point my friends nudged me that they were ready to leave.
I stumbled down the stairs and on the way to the exit had to pass the table of books, CDs, DVDs, brochures, etc. for sale. I collected as much free information as I could.

As we got into the car I was asked what I thought about it. My brain was scrambled at this point. They both wanted my initial views and I stated that it is a money-making con which preys on the weak-minded and the ignorant. I felt violated and angry and sad and so confused that all those people were so sheep-like and pliable.

For me being atheist is so obvious and valid and I had not been in a church situation for years. I had not witnessed these charlatans close up. It was shocking and tragic.
The people commandeering this con weren't clever and yet what did that make those handing over their money and whooping with joy?

One of my friends told me that she has her doubts about the healing and that the church seems to have less crowds each week. Small comfort that things may be changing.Yet the so called healing session was not the issue for me. Some churches have a few prayers, some people pray at home in private - if you put it all into a bag it is all a belief in the supernatural. The differences are are all about degrees and it is one and the same. The people are being fed a line and they believe it. They suspend all forms of rationality and avoid critical analysis of the information presented to them and swallow the con whole.

I have tried to record the events as I saw them, through my own eyes and in a later post I will write a commentary. Please share your thoughts.
P.S. I do know that not all churches are like this one but the point is they all believe. I don't.

I'm Going to Church...mini-update

I attended a church service today and quite frankly I am traumatised.

The experience was so horrific and so sad that I need a day or two to collect my thoughts in order to write my review.

Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I hadn't forgotten.
Bear with me.

Homophobic Jamaican Prime Minister

Dangerous. I know these views are prevalent in many societies not just Jamaica, but for the Prime Minister to promote homophobia and then clumsily try to squirm his way around it with a pile of words that could be described as nothing other than bullshit is revealing.
Let me know what you think.

True Self

I'm Going to Church...

...yes, you read it here first.
I have been invited to attend a church service by some dear friends of mine. I have agreed to attend on condition that they understand that:

a) I will not be giving money

b) I will be writing about it on my blog.

My friends and I have had some hot debates through the night and into early dawn and I have even been told, 'I pray that you get to know Jesus'. Incredible.
Anyway, in the interest of those who read this blog, whether atheist or supernaturalist, I will be visiting their multi-cultural church with pen and notepad in hand.
I plan to go as soon as our calendars meet, which I expect will happen in the next week or so. So watch this space.

Time for Change...

I have decided to simplify my blog. Make it easier to read and navigate by narrowing the width of the page and so on.
What you might call a bit of spring cleaning and I intend to get back to highlighting some brilliant blogs and equally brilliant people out there like GeneralX, Ralph Dumain, etc. as well as some of my observations about people and life.

I want to say a big 'thank you' to everyone who has taken the time to comment here and especially those who drop by regularly. Without readers and visitors this blog would not be what it is. Thank YOU!!

Naturally 7

I'm in a melodic frame of mind at the moment and wanted to share some real talent with you. I watch this video and imagine I'm a person travelling on the Paris Metro, minding my own business and chance upon these guys singing. What a treat!

'Savage Chickens'

'Kiss My Hand' - The Pope in Africa

The Pope visited Africa. How deeply saddened I am that this crazy institution, the Roman Catholic church, has felt the need to visit several countries to, basically, drum up business. A PR stunt that will work. It will have the desired effect of calling the masses to believe in a corrupt, evil, mega-rich institution with dodgy books being waved around as tenets the masses should live by. And the money rolls in. The poor who can least afford to give away money are told and believe that a god will help the poor who give to one of the richest institutions on this planet.
It would be hilarious if it wasn't so tragic, if the consequences didn't last through generations.

They are criminals. They know what they do and they no more believe in a god than they do in fairies. These mind-control freaks are not to be bowed down to, nor should they have their hands kissed. I assume you wouldn't hold a member of the Cosa Nostra in high esteem, so how are these shysters any different?

Not many people know how the Popes are selected. I guess most people believe that a group of people receive a message from 'god' that Mr Blah-Blah should be the next Pope and then - voila- a name is revealed to the world and is then crowned in a blaze of publicity. Well, actually, it is slightly more complicated than that as there are power struggles behind the scene. People jostling to have their names picked out of the celestial ballot box. Arse-licky people sharpen their finest 'sucking up' tools and get to work on their goal of the top job, often years in advance.

'Oh, those atheists, such ungodly people, seem to be causing a bit of a stir amongst the people in the so-called developed countries. Proclaiming what we already know - that there is no god, but it just won't do. We cannot have them leading the flocks away from us. What can we do to ensure our institution is shored up for the next few centuries? Africa. Africa? Wait a minute...(deep in thought). Good thinking, Batman! Good thinking! When do we set off?'

I'm not taken in and I surely hope you aren't.

Sweet Honey in the Rock

Atheist Life v Religious Life

Body Fascism

It has been some time since I have posted here. I haven't forgotten nor given up on this blog (thanks for your kind words and urgings bentsocietyblog.blogspot.com) but my life seems to have moved into a different direction and my time was taken up by other things. I have indulged in all the things I decided weren't going to be a feature of my life.
But the one aspect of life in the so-called developed world is the mixed messages which people have rammed down their throats. Here is one example:
Women are encouraged to be a 'size zero', anything else encourages wagging fingers and admonishments from the style/fashion/body fascist police. Women are only considered worth knowing if you conform to a particular image - regardless of your race. Your hair should be straight, smooth and glossy plus should be as close to blonde as possible. Your nose definitely needs some work, regardless of its shape or size.
I say this as I watched a programme recently which horrified and disgusted me. 'The Swan' - you may have seen it. Two women 'compete' to see who could undergo the most radical transformation. The women are subjected to what appears to be inhumane treatment, unnecessary cosmetic surgery to ensure they emerge from 12 weeks of scrutiny, exercise, hair extensions, a mouthful of veneers and therapy. The women are churned out looking like plastic pastiches of Hollywood female stereotypes. All traces of their physical differences are removed: from large noses, belly fat, low brows and all other physical characteristics which scream 'ugly'.
But who has defined what 'ugly' is?
I want to know what happens to these women years down the line when their breast implants leak, their face lifts fall and they have problems with their new screwed-in teeth.
I can't understand body fascism - maybe due to the fact I was raised in a Caribbean home where your size wasn't an issue at all. In my family I have members who are very thin and very fat and many who can be described as in between. You weren't judged by your physical appearance but rather by your personality and this has stayed with me to this day. So it seems this is an illness imposed on society to judge someone by their weight. I recently connected with a friend who I had kept in touch with but not actually seen as we were in different parts of the world. She had lost nearly 100lbs in weight since I had last seen her. After our loud greetings and lengthy hugs she mentioned that I was the only person she knew who did not judge her and accepted her whatever her weight.
I don't care what weight she is - she's my friend and I love her just as she is.
Maybe we wouldn't have some of the problems humans have if we spent less time trying to be something or someone we are not. I enjoy being real and being myself.

Just sharing my thoughts.

George Carlin - At His Best

I thought it would be good to end the year with George Carlin being George Carlin. Let me know what you think. Worth watching.

Jingle Bells

If I hear another 'Jingle Bells' I think I will scream. I am not a real shopper, I must admit, but when I do venture into shops to buy essentials the constant racket emanating from speakers is exceedingly annoying. It is noise pollution.
If you are a rational person who believes, as I do, that this Christmas malarkey has been beautifully marketed to encourage you to empty your pockets, bank accounts and any reasoning abilities you may have, then you may also object to the level of brain and ear poison inflicted upon the public at almost every turn.
Mind you it is not just in the shops. Switch on the radio, television even the trusty old internet somehow manages to beam targeted adverts with all kinds of slimy smiley ads to encourage you to spend money.
The jingles, the adverts and then throw in the fake fabricated story of the nativity and the whole 'god' and 'Jesus' bit. It is enough to make me wish it was all a really bad dream and all those sheeple would wake up and realise that the big con is just that. It won't happen, unfortunately. The great con will continue and people will continue to do as the racketeers expect them to do. Spend without thinking. 'Cheers!'

'I'll Pray for You...'

When someone says 'I'll pray for you' it causes me to pause.

I have a few questions:

1. What is the point?

2. Who does it actually benefit (if there is a benefit)?

3. Does it make any difference and if so, to whom and how?

4. What am I supposed to say?

I can't stop people praying for me but I do ask the above questions as I cannot see the point. Of course, people who say 'I'll pray for you' are saying it with the best intentions. It is being used to convey sympathy, empathy or is an attempt to make both parties feel positive about something.
Well it doesn't make me feel positive in any way.
It bugs me, to be truthful. I think of all the inane things that humans say because we have been conditioned to say them or think or act because some ignorant ancestors (who did not have the scientific information which is available to us today, granted) who tried to make sense of this crazy natural world and came up with a whole load of stories and ideas - so, amongst other things, we pray. And we pray for others.

Praying changes nothing. Praying is such a complete waste of time. Rather than pray for me or for someone else how about putting some action behind your words and try and change the reality that we find ourselves in. Rather than passively putting your hands together make those same hands do something worthwhile like protest against the various forms of injustice in the world, the abuse carried out in the name of god and gods, the hundreds of millions of children being miseducated or not being educated at all, the abject poverty that a disproportaionate number of people on this planet live in, the homophobia, racism, ageism, corruption of governments, the Federal Reserve...I could go on.
There are so many things we could be doing both individually and collectively that would make real change happen in this world and yet what do we do? We pray. Totally useless. Totally mind-numbingly facile and pointless.

Let's say for instance that someone has a child who is ill with a serious life-threatening medical problem. They pray for that child to recover - often for long periods. They pray with all their hearts and minds. Sadly the child dies.
What was the point of their prayer? Did 'God' hear their prayers and ignore them? Did their prayers help the child in any medical way? Does the death of the child mean the parents were bad people? Had the parents failed to pray hard enough?
Now these questions may appear callous and cold but they are essential questions concerning actions humans take in our lives and if we are to critically analyse why we do things then these questions would be a place to start.

In my view, a belief in prayer is cruel as it is as irrelevant as Santa Claus. Adults don't believe (or do they?) if they pray to Santa Claus that he will help them or their families in anyway and so why this equally imaginary god or gods?

You have no doubt heard of some parents, devout Christians, who have refused to allow their sick children to receive blood transfusions or any other form of treatment because they are relying on 'the power of prayer' and then their children die.
We cannot allow these views to persist without comment. We cannot allow children to die needlessly in this way without comment and we definitely shouldn't allow 'the power of prayer' to sweep past us without asking hard questions. We cannot because they cause misery and unnecessary death based on mythical ideas.

In addition, if these gods are all-knowing, all-present then there wouldn't be any need to pray. Think about it. If god knows your every thought, why would humans have to pray to be heard by god or gods? Why would god allow your beautiful child to be stricken by some dreadful disease and after your earnest prayer your beloved child still dies - why would god allow that to happen if this god was omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent and a loving god?

Let's just cut to the chase and say that prayer offers temporary mental comfort to those who believe in the supernatural. Full stop. But it doesn't actually change anything other than a few feel good areas of the brain. It changes nothing in our physical world. Praying or telling me you will pray for me doesn't make you a better person, it isn't a barometer on your 'good character'. So please, don't waste your precious time praying for me.

If you want to make a difference then "do something meaningful" as the great man Carl Sagan suggested.
Forget prayer. Do something meaningful.
Think about this when you next feel the urge to pray.




RELATED POST: Bless You!

Prince Charles Quote

[I agree with a farmer in Cumbria who told me] "if we, as a group, were black or gay, we would not be victimised or picked upon".
Part of a leaked letter sent to Tony Blair in 2002, in which the prince (Charles Windsor) blamed the government for "destroying the countryside"

For all of you who revere the group of people in the UK known as the Royal Family - here is a quote from the 'Man Who Would be King'. An excellent example of why this undemocratic system of people succeeding to the highest position in the land based solely on who their parents are should be dismantled forthwith.

Would you want this unelected man, with these opinions, ruling over you?

The Negro Mother

I am the one who labored as a slave,

Beaten and mistreated for the work that I gave—
Children sold away from me, husband sold, too.
No safety, no love, no respect was I due.
Three hundred years in the deepest South:
But God put a song and a prayer in my mouth.
God put a dream like steel in my soul.
Now, through my children, I'm reaching the goal.
Now, through my children, young and free,
I realize the blessings denied to me.
I couldn't read then. I couldn't write.
I had nothing, back there in the night.
Sometimes, the valley was filled with tears,
But I kept trudging on through the lonely years.
Sometimes, the road was hot with sun,
But I had to keep on till my work was done:
I had to keep on! No stopping for me—
I was the seed of the coming Free.
I nourished the dream that nothing could smother
Deep in my breast—the Negro mother.
I had only hope then, but now through you,
Dark ones of today, my dreams must come true:
All you dark children in the world out there,
Remember my sweat, my pain, my despair.
Remember my years, heavy with sorrow—
And make of those years a torch for tomorrow.
Make of my past a road to the light
Out of the darkness, the ignorance, the night.
Lift high my banner out of the dust.
Stand like free men supporting my trust.
Believe in the right, let none push you back.
Remember the whip and the slaver's track.
Remember how the strong in struggle and strife
Still bar you the way, and deny you life—
But march ever forward, breaking down bars.
Look ever upward at the sun and the stars.
Oh, my dark children, may my dreams and my prayers
Impel you forever up the great stairs—
For I will be with you till no white brother
Dares keep down the children of the Negro mother.

by Langston Hughes


[Dedicated to Ralph Dumain: Thank you for being a great human being! Zee Harrison]

What is Intelligence, Anyway?

As a child I was almost a permanent fixture in the local library. I remember walking along between the narrow shelves, finger aloft and deciding to venture into a section I wouldn't normally read - science fiction. I would come across this name often: Isaac Asimov. I would pull out his books and they always seemed heavy in tone and dark of cover. The illustrations always seemed to suggest something scary inside. I would gingerly open his books and sometimes take a couple home to read but could never get past a few pages. Disappointed. Although I vowed to try and read science fiction I never really did.

Many years later I chanced upon Isaac Asimov again and he seemed different, somehow. This 'new' Asimov was a prolific writer who was addicted to learning and writing about what he had learnt and what interested him. He wrote about the planets and artificial intelligence and human frailties and evolution.

I am now a firm fan of his wonderful writing although still not a fan of science fiction. (Strange, as I am surrounded by people who could be considered 'Trekkies' and science fiction fans to varying degrees.)

I want to share an example of Mr Asimov and his thoughts with an excerpt from his autobiography. I believe this illustrates his writing and thinking skills.

What Is Intelligence, Anyway? By Isaac Asimov

When I was in the army, I received the kind of aptitude test that all soldiers took and, against a normal of 100, scored 160. No one at the base had ever seen a figure like that, and for two hours they made a big fuss over me.

(It didn't mean anything. The next day I was still a buck private with KP - kitchen police - as my highest duty.)

All my life I've been registering scores like that, so that I have the complacent feeling that I'm highly intelligent, and I expect other people to think so too.

Actually, though, don't such scores simply mean that I am very good at answering the type of academic questions that are considered worthy of answers by people who make up the intelligence tests - people with intellectual bents similar to mine?

For instance, I had an auto-repair man once, who, on these intelligence tests, could not possibly have scored more than 80, by my estimate. I always took it for granted that I was far more intelligent than he was.

Yet, when anything went wrong with my car I hastened to him with it, watched him anxiously as he explored its vitals, and listened to his pronouncements as though they were divine oracles - and he always fixed my car.

Well, then, suppose my auto-repair man devised questions for an intelligence test.

Or suppose a carpenter did, or a farmer, or, indeed, almost anyone but an academician. By every one of those tests, I'd prove myself a moron, and I'd be a moron, too.

In a world where I could not use my academic training and my verbal talents but had to do something intricate or hard, working with my hands, I would do poorly.

My intelligence, then, is not absolute but is a function of the society I live in and of the fact that a small subsection of that society has managed to foist itself on the rest as an arbiter of such matters.

Consider my auto-repair man, again. Read the rest of the excerpt HERE.

Let me know what you think.



Related Sites:Move Over, Asimov - bentsocietyblog.blogspot.com

Visitors and Comments

I would like to say sincere 'thank you' to those people who have visited this site and especially those who have left comments - sharing your views with me. Your comments enable me to be a better blogger, to understand and clarify issues and also pull me up when you feel I am mistaken in my views - all good!

I also want to highlight members of the Entrecard system who have visited my site the most over the last month. I have noted the top 10 sites who have visited me (in order of highest number of visits):

People You Need To Know

WTF Do You Blog About!?

Politi-Gal

WindMill on the Hill

Lofty Matters

My Autism Insights

Meltwater. Torrents. Meanderings.
Delta.

RagingRev

Athletic Alley

Knoxville Tennessee Area Local Expert

These sites are diverse and highlight interests, ideas and activities such as: whitewater rafting, autism, professional people in Atlanta, atheism and politics - amongst many others.

Please pay them a visit.

Thank you all so much.