tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1387473468924537672024-03-29T05:29:37.356+02:00Urban Ministry Live And UnpluggedA Window On Urban Ministry In Southern AfricaThomas O. Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09806849087817328366noreply@blogger.comBlogger8745125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-36768481697076510282024-03-28T17:39:00.002+02:002024-03-28T17:39:34.252+02:00Ungoverned<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKuYvEcfL1kB8dHOrRvMAPnvdCxzaGUpMSbMjGGTCv2ARMban_3ejIx0vzo6hPQN639ukMb3MQIFcVovvN317dQV7iNHvezmZgPlCWXiM8-xlZg3QHPTdEFhgHQoe69LGooitHU32HHRDS2PkA0e4hby_Ts0D0a2HDCXpkz4K5TNlyf_mMAQnoa1ihsvM/s937/CNN%20ZA%20Crime.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="310" data-original-width="937" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKuYvEcfL1kB8dHOrRvMAPnvdCxzaGUpMSbMjGGTCv2ARMban_3ejIx0vzo6hPQN639ukMb3MQIFcVovvN317dQV7iNHvezmZgPlCWXiM8-xlZg3QHPTdEFhgHQoe69LGooitHU32HHRDS2PkA0e4hby_Ts0D0a2HDCXpkz4K5TNlyf_mMAQnoa1ihsvM/w400-h133/CNN%20ZA%20Crime.png" width="400" /></a></div>I<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>wrote to a friend on 24 April last year, commenting on my visits to the townships: "Late last year, things seemed to turn. It was as if everybody realised they were ungoverned, and acted accordingly." I said that purely on the basis of what I observed. Today, CNN published some statistics. My observations were correct. Crime took a leap when I said that.<p></p>Thomas O. Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09806849087817328366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-73947284296646386612024-03-28T07:58:00.002+02:002024-03-28T07:58:36.567+02:00Duties at Boarding School<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV_V1cJ6kRL4wwS4qe-EzTQ6Wd-GX-7ioUpwXs9ciy207dqns54ySV2tSawmFxSD6jmyQJghZIY6YPcRxPmN_S3h8enNZcsMzXZFoPOY2pnCfuBOxMdjn_6u87lrssjMeUlvi-2H_D3650x-tlJF_w253enDWvMs3tZiiOfG173DgVc2NDCda3QhTeru4/s1658/DSCF5535D.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1658" data-original-width="1063" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV_V1cJ6kRL4wwS4qe-EzTQ6Wd-GX-7ioUpwXs9ciy207dqns54ySV2tSawmFxSD6jmyQJghZIY6YPcRxPmN_S3h8enNZcsMzXZFoPOY2pnCfuBOxMdjn_6u87lrssjMeUlvi-2H_D3650x-tlJF_w253enDWvMs3tZiiOfG173DgVc2NDCda3QhTeru4/w128-h200/DSCF5535D.png" width="128" /></a></div>History. So often it's the detail that gets lost. So this is interesting as a list of new boys' duties at boarding school for the first year they were there (I wrote this list at the time, in 1975). This in fact was the last year that this system was in effect. <span style="color: #cc0000;">OBSERVATION:</span> The list ends "and so on". There was a lot more. Holding radio aerials in one's fingers to improve reception, doing homework for seniors, working the garden, et cetera. "Make beds" sounds simple. I made eleven beds every morning, apart from my own.Thomas Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09822813283792602783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-74334730422003524222024-03-27T09:56:00.001+02:002024-03-27T11:46:45.886+02:00Striking Church<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheasvyopK64Oq667Hq1unBBEx7RjnhlCCNSrAqg6Z3S_hF7skF5GABhvf7VthWYmJ1YrkGG9aVUVz3-ZtJyKq055flq8bVI1MBkbO9Q-ztFblNdonXefjFUBAwVs5RQld4LF60q6A0kgFjnXA1xd5qIDLzJLgPF6CG7jzSKqpLOzaw7jwn-uNqDb1CxP4/s976/L1030425-L1030426C.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="976" data-original-width="848" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheasvyopK64Oq667Hq1unBBEx7RjnhlCCNSrAqg6Z3S_hF7skF5GABhvf7VthWYmJ1YrkGG9aVUVz3-ZtJyKq055flq8bVI1MBkbO9Q-ztFblNdonXefjFUBAwVs5RQld4LF60q6A0kgFjnXA1xd5qIDLzJLgPF6CG7jzSKqpLOzaw7jwn-uNqDb1CxP4/w174-h200/L1030425-L1030426C.jpeg" width="174" /></a></div>I have at least 30 photos of Dutch Reformed Churches on this blog. They appear under the label "Local Churches". Out of all those Churches, the most striking is, I think, the Dutch Reformed Church Prince Albert (pictured). <span style="color: #cc0000;">OBSERVATION:</span> This is a super-wide-angle shot. It was an overcast day, so that the Church cast no sharp shadows, and the clouds made a dramatic backdrop. You may click on the photo to enlarge.<p></p>Thomas Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09822813283792602783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-60797539812870934952024-03-26T21:12:00.000+02:002024-03-26T21:12:28.264+02:00Need for Numbers<p>The times they are a'changin'. Wife E is involved in arranging a banquet in South Africa's Eastern Cape. Ten years ago, when booking a venue, one did not generally need to declare how many people would be there. It was (and is) the culture not to do so. Now, without exception, there is not a single venue that will waive the need for numbers. <span style="color: #cc0000;">OBSERVATION:</span> I had this in my own multicultural city Church. When catering, we roughly estimated numbers -- but some wanted to <i>know</i>.</p>Thomas Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09822813283792602783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-17356287926479994992024-03-26T19:00:00.003+02:002024-03-26T19:01:45.281+02:00Birth of a Son<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt-nKD9Fd4vUDPBij03oYaeGaP6PT0YCqnhK7pMT9PIQFRLDtUMldigeuThx_XATqI0rDvmH8tQG3r6S4mpdN5x6gPJPz1sN7aihTz0N7IkNcsg5ZAs-E_VHwZ8ucWIJsKNKEW2IPNDe0OKOfuNUKGh_Ol37f6mEGVYO2oV3X3ahgKnZPpglA5IvlinHc/s1182/DSCF5531F.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1182" data-original-width="987" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt-nKD9Fd4vUDPBij03oYaeGaP6PT0YCqnhK7pMT9PIQFRLDtUMldigeuThx_XATqI0rDvmH8tQG3r6S4mpdN5x6gPJPz1sN7aihTz0N7IkNcsg5ZAs-E_VHwZ8ucWIJsKNKEW2IPNDe0OKOfuNUKGh_Ol37f6mEGVYO2oV3X3ahgKnZPpglA5IvlinHc/w167-h200/DSCF5531F.jpg" width="167" /></a></div>I put this photo up on Facebook today. It is son M before he was even discharged from hospital -- in 1986. He weighed 2.925 kg at birth (6 lbs 7 oz). His name was derived from the Hebrew מתתיה Mattathiah: Gift of God. I wrote to my parents, "He's got long fingers." <span style="color: #cc0000;">OBSERVATION:</span> I was a minister in (then) Port Elizabeth, here dressed for some ministerial duty.Thomas Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09822813283792602783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-50188400215564421342024-03-25T20:31:00.000+02:002024-03-25T20:31:06.797+02:00A Free Country?<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPpXy8tKQXmfzHfgy8e7EpBUdGXU72prstkCX7PM2kJIdvQODv-CzHAZGhi4fa40ALHZnzh3bwNki0HD4lSLS-K7JDU9TofEjIoYCgUIa6hoT2iXEYUK-eDoQC-lQoT1CbctLg-CAatSP3eAo9il9v-CCjezR3SjaXPvDhUT7Q5j8KykqFeQvvRY9s8f8/s1350/DSCF5524C.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1013" data-original-width="1350" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPpXy8tKQXmfzHfgy8e7EpBUdGXU72prstkCX7PM2kJIdvQODv-CzHAZGhi4fa40ALHZnzh3bwNki0HD4lSLS-K7JDU9TofEjIoYCgUIa6hoT2iXEYUK-eDoQC-lQoT1CbctLg-CAatSP3eAo9il9v-CCjezR3SjaXPvDhUT7Q5j8KykqFeQvvRY9s8f8/w200-h150/DSCF5524C.PNG" width="200" /></a></div>It's a free country, they say. There's a long wooden bridge nearby, that I like to cross. A resident warned me today, don't cross that bridge. You deliver yourself to thugs. What happened to my freedom? Is it a free country? I took the photo from the bridge.<p></p>Thomas O. Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09806849087817328366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-89360324622023839632024-03-24T19:09:00.000+02:002024-03-24T19:09:22.708+02:00Dressing Up and Down<p>I visited my old city Church today. In my time, it was well attended. It was sparsely attended now, as it has been for years. What struck me today was that most people <i>dressed down</i>. This gave it the look of a working class congregation. In my time, most people <i>dressed up</i> for Sunday service, which meant either European formal dress or African traditional dress. </p>Thomas Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09822813283792602783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-35722068813935437992024-03-24T12:22:00.000+02:002024-03-24T12:22:02.609+02:00Signs in Letters<p>There has been a surge of interest in analysing people's non-verbal language. One finds it very much in <i>writing</i>, too. There are both the enduring messages of writing, and immediate revelations. In the Church, people are passing notes to the minister all the time -- and the writing itself reveals things. <span style="color: #cc0000;">OBSERVATION:</span> While I am barely aware of the characteristics of writing and their significance, there was a typical example of an emotional obstacle in an old letter of my own that I recently put up on this blog: <i><a href="https://thomasscarborough.blogspot.com/2024/03/letter-to-myself.html" target="_blank">Letter to Myself</a></i>. Line 3. And a very overt show of relief in the writing as the letter ends.</p>Thomas O. Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09806849087817328366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-82622456672345998242024-03-23T10:26:00.000+02:002024-03-23T10:26:25.885+02:00Creating a Buzz<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGh8cob4yHiNyQINwMigtdEDsXYNr1eqnb-tardw1vWYUdhzJTevKNF-ahkirBQLuYhItPTwEYS7oSYP7u_aEBFN1zdt27sDm9_bgPwHnc7dPN_okPHuL5VhzXxnlAaMq5dyvIfRGYW63WxjWlZUtayG1XsCzeO39_Y6l_nwVYByrmgIo8TXXWnpDifIU/s990/Cover%20Amazon%20I.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="990" data-original-width="990" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGh8cob4yHiNyQINwMigtdEDsXYNr1eqnb-tardw1vWYUdhzJTevKNF-ahkirBQLuYhItPTwEYS7oSYP7u_aEBFN1zdt27sDm9_bgPwHnc7dPN_okPHuL5VhzXxnlAaMq5dyvIfRGYW63WxjWlZUtayG1XsCzeO39_Y6l_nwVYByrmgIo8TXXWnpDifIU/w200-h200/Cover%20Amazon%20I.png" width="200" /></a></div>Here's something worth advertising. My publishers felt that an ad campaign for my new philosophy "for adults and teens" was "not creating the necessary buzz", so reduced the Kindle price from $11.49 to $3.44 -- just for 30 days. The book has a 5-star rating. Click here to be routed through to Kindle: <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/This-Town-Metaphysics-Thomas-Scarborough-ebook/dp/B0CLKZ79V9/" target="_blank">This Town: A Complete Metaphysics</a></i>.<p></p>Thomas O. Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09806849087817328366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-68032106417188764142024-03-21T17:19:00.002+02:002024-03-21T18:15:11.099+02:00Real-Time Editing<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD1Dl9RG_4B9wyLVWlMpL35JT-gzeUJcxQOJPnMwIuKsb6g0q2w3-FQKNrZJB3s3Zi4A9iR3VhkpLojldpzuFil2lWk3yQlM2nB_yZ1_pmxeBe8Me4xYCe5T1wqCNYzOqmfrKtJW1IGzBposl0jp5gAPZFzEeJUR2FDT1-D_VmbYvdgHry6_CipE2gB6w/s1776/DSCF5521C.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1332" data-original-width="1776" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD1Dl9RG_4B9wyLVWlMpL35JT-gzeUJcxQOJPnMwIuKsb6g0q2w3-FQKNrZJB3s3Zi4A9iR3VhkpLojldpzuFil2lWk3yQlM2nB_yZ1_pmxeBe8Me4xYCe5T1wqCNYzOqmfrKtJW1IGzBposl0jp5gAPZFzEeJUR2FDT1-D_VmbYvdgHry6_CipE2gB6w/w200-h150/DSCF5521C.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>I had a session today with an editor in Virginia, trialling real-time on-line video editing. It took us about 20 minutes to connect between Africa and the USA -- that was a problem. The editing worked. She correctly picked up a few details. And she considered that my concepts work: "It makes me want to read the rest." <a href="https://jillhacker.com/real-time-edit" target="_blank">https://jillhacker.com/real-time-edit</a> <span style="color: #cc0000;">OBSERVATION:</span> She said she decided to try it when she saw the effect of face-to-face editing -- and I do think there are advantages.<a class="css-1qaijid r-bcqeeo r-qvutc0 r-poiln3 r-1loqt21" dir="ltr" href="https://t.co/29O0AS2A3q" rel="noopener noreferrer nofollow" role="link" style="background-color: white; border: 0px solid black; box-sizing: border-box; color: #1d9bf0; cursor: pointer; display: inline; font-family: TwitterChirp, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variant-position: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; line-height: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-decoration-line: none; text-overflow: unset; white-space-collapse: preserve;" target="_blank"><span aria-hidden="true" class="css-1qaijid r-bcqeeo r-qvutc0 r-poiln3 r-qlhcfr r-qvk6io" color="inherit" style="background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px solid black; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-size: 0.001px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 0px; list-style: none; margin: 0px; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; text-align: inherit; text-overflow: unset; white-space: inherit;">ing/</span></a><p></p>Thomas O. Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09806849087817328366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-47652128018515285272024-03-21T09:01:00.005+02:002024-03-21T23:03:43.428+02:00Cost of PassportsI applied for two passports this month, one South African and one British. The process of applying is ongoing for the British passport, but I have paid the requisite fee. How much did the passports cost? The South African passport cost R600.00. The British passport cost R2,809.87 with courier fees yet to come. Say, five or six times the price of a South African passport.<div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #cc0000;">POSTSCRIPT:</span> Perhaps the reason why such prestige is attached to addressing foreign conferences is that one succeeded in negotiating the passport application process.</div>Thomas O. Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09806849087817328366noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-84785059681504821092024-03-20T21:48:00.002+02:002024-03-20T21:48:30.508+02:00Revamped Website<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuxEtJN2iz2pZQeIYihyphenhyphenVH4Bl3tAMFw3cSbddPtZIALxTcOMNUSVImcKIhqkqawmQOr4mAW5XKH1TG1h8qyEi7lD9bxDkuYkLyWJ3ztao_xMOpsUI9yIaww3Dyx5K00DrYdh8_PLIonC731jrI1cVv9c5SaMIqXy9WeW6SOxWqhesbmW6ekj8rnWhcX3c/s956/Screenshot%202024-03-20%2021.45.22.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="574" data-original-width="956" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuxEtJN2iz2pZQeIYihyphenhyphenVH4Bl3tAMFw3cSbddPtZIALxTcOMNUSVImcKIhqkqawmQOr4mAW5XKH1TG1h8qyEi7lD9bxDkuYkLyWJ3ztao_xMOpsUI9yIaww3Dyx5K00DrYdh8_PLIonC731jrI1cVv9c5SaMIqXy9WeW6SOxWqhesbmW6ekj8rnWhcX3c/w200-h120/Screenshot%202024-03-20%2021.45.22.png" width="200" /></a></div>I revamped my author website a little this week. Above all, one doesn't want to waste people's time with superfluous link clicks or circuitous routes to things, so I have added some short cuts. My author website is here: <a href="https://thomas-scarborough.com" target="_blank">https://thomas-scarborough.com</a>Thomas O. Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09806849087817328366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-12824843541947444912024-03-19T20:53:00.004+02:002024-03-19T21:06:02.490+02:00Poor Photo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVOfUC3uI23S8xXiCeKg4jjDmxzbqY_bCCynEi5OEd6yYdlnuCTGMmNRgDFXAgYJs1GWMvmvjlU34lB1XbfsAl4q_Nwy8F9L-Ocove1C5ZoIwe2ZrHs6F4IO_Vktuinj0m87haz6dlQBvSAYdk_FNB9KCr_dyE9KAokKSi2G29Qs-wFMqALnk1zcXiFRA/s685/Poor%20Photo.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="366" data-original-width="685" height="107" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVOfUC3uI23S8xXiCeKg4jjDmxzbqY_bCCynEi5OEd6yYdlnuCTGMmNRgDFXAgYJs1GWMvmvjlU34lB1XbfsAl4q_Nwy8F9L-Ocove1C5ZoIwe2ZrHs6F4IO_Vktuinj0m87haz6dlQBvSAYdk_FNB9KCr_dyE9KAokKSi2G29Qs-wFMqALnk1zcXiFRA/w200-h107/Poor%20Photo.png" width="200" /></a></div>I had a passport photo taken today at Superfoto. I asked them, Can you take a photo for a British passport? Oh yes, they said, absolutely. This is what His Majesty's Passport Office thought of it (pictured). So I took my own photo with an old camera, and submitted it. His Majesty's Office considered it of the highest quality.Thomas Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09822813283792602783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-55078809949357971252024-03-19T20:21:00.001+02:002024-03-19T20:21:18.345+02:00Trust And DistrustA young married couple came to see me. She said: "He told me that if I continue to mope, he'll go ***** his old girlfriend. How can I trust him after he said that?" <span style="color: #cc0000;">OBSERVATION:</span> Well, this husband fails Matrimony 101. Yet "How can I trust him | her?" is a question I have come across repeatedly in counselling. Can we trust another human being -- even a "trustable" one? In terms of my own view of human nature, not really. But we can trust <span style="font-style: italic;">God</span> for our lives, for his preservation, and to surround us with His blessing.Thomas O. Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09806849087817328366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-63608736666330273142024-03-18T20:13:00.003+02:002024-03-18T20:24:48.658+02:00Engineering Puzzle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6sE5ZqJlGFOYYOFrJejktP65lp3HW-oMei9cUWwDx1nyAOHtjjiF9mL-dEbdWLVFG7vYrFbImoPPE8uYDofzAhSN6-jj2AhhJ4MR0o8opmMVBdSgkkitjxhaUexLadnpZxbxyLvMY2TpwZ5UjSo-8Bic5tk_25vBZ27ZprAjKuD0WspUUjzLg0frHc3Q/s823/L1020059%20-%20L1020060.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="823" data-original-width="720" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6sE5ZqJlGFOYYOFrJejktP65lp3HW-oMei9cUWwDx1nyAOHtjjiF9mL-dEbdWLVFG7vYrFbImoPPE8uYDofzAhSN6-jj2AhhJ4MR0o8opmMVBdSgkkitjxhaUexLadnpZxbxyLvMY2TpwZ5UjSo-8Bic5tk_25vBZ27ZprAjKuD0WspUUjzLg0frHc3Q/w175-h200/L1020059%20-%20L1020060.jpg" width="175" /></a></div>Some time back, I attended the synagogue (shul) in Paarl, near Cape Town. This posed an engineering puzzle for me. How did those matchstick pillars hold up all those people? Personally I suspect that the engineers built something into the woodwork that one doesn't see. You may click on the photo to enlarge.Thomas O. Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09806849087817328366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-79742875107695271962024-03-17T19:14:00.002+02:002024-03-17T19:14:36.922+02:00Annual Philosophy Lecture<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijS1rePx5xuV6XbfbXc0qDhAt4Hl8zoDG1FM8IgODONXwCMNOxiaIrJMb6BMzpYomixGo4g7Fwa7ALtDoW-lhualX17AJkzkimFWIxmSliWNYSR21J4TXBz8nyD3N_daBkczYc9nfag1rfezj7sfd1qIUv6WLDE3S8i0Els8fAq4k6whVJD4Po8ZgQn1k/s2048/1710580368896.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="2048" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijS1rePx5xuV6XbfbXc0qDhAt4Hl8zoDG1FM8IgODONXwCMNOxiaIrJMb6BMzpYomixGo4g7Fwa7ALtDoW-lhualX17AJkzkimFWIxmSliWNYSR21J4TXBz8nyD3N_daBkczYc9nfag1rfezj7sfd1qIUv6WLDE3S8i0Els8fAq4k6whVJD4Po8ZgQn1k/w200-h125/1710580368896.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div>I read that the Philosophy Sharing Foundation's Annual Philosophy Lecture was an all-round, resounding success on Friday—hosting Matt Qvortrup. I hold the Lecture in 2025. Here is an impression of Friday's event on (click here) <i><a href="https://www.linkedin.com/posts/ian-rizzo-1bb91217_our-10th-annual-philosophy-lecture-by-professor-activity-7174694097293623296-8oYO" target="_blank">LinkedIn</a></i>. Thomas O. Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09806849087817328366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-85127894240470082132024-03-17T18:00:00.002+02:002024-03-17T18:01:36.590+02:00Tamana Church<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgAE0ygTY80aa4NGMYOY_jJp349U3YHNyJLf1Mzer5F8Hn-1rIKoq7_vEHYGmL3sNbDKevZURgyVPRl9Z4glQFD64ztDcQppHJWnaLyJCTPnDs548V04CEsbw3vYcmoiEJl3-YTZ2mYNpQOjn4-Z42LKMqfuo2scpQMMaVQhzCtl3cc7vw3d8RmzVPFWY/s2330/DSCF5471.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1456" data-original-width="2330" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgAE0ygTY80aa4NGMYOY_jJp349U3YHNyJLf1Mzer5F8Hn-1rIKoq7_vEHYGmL3sNbDKevZURgyVPRl9Z4glQFD64ztDcQppHJWnaLyJCTPnDs548V04CEsbw3vYcmoiEJl3-YTZ2mYNpQOjn4-Z42LKMqfuo2scpQMMaVQhzCtl3cc7vw3d8RmzVPFWY/w200-h125/DSCF5471.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Here is another London Missionary Society postcard (photographed 1899-1919 -- more than 100 years ago). I lived on this island once. It is Tamana atoll, an island 2 square miles in extent, 2.5° south of the equator, 176° east -- a few degrees from the International Date Line. You may click on the image to enlarge. <span style="color: #cc0000;">OBSERVATION:</span> The comment on the postcard indicates a Society which "ran lean". That changed over the years.<p></p>Thomas O. Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09806849087817328366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-39638414541662047172024-03-16T18:27:00.001+02:002024-03-16T18:57:01.764+02:00LMS Postcards<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2XpAgvRwJJb8UIrH-bonVLpvWw4LWU-N23txZ8FwyU_OpyWrq1QWhoMPZquz9EQ9YFh3FcS91kKsDRq58iAVUfJ8G9iO9-OkATrgJg5TpW596tuBqSVVWVQ3A1gdMb1kFl0GQ0DGTyO2zJQ17ZT7EGOh5EpvyIZ9e_oIQ3-QVfkGduG0emm1PZacr3cU/s2284/DSCF5465.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1426" data-original-width="2284" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2XpAgvRwJJb8UIrH-bonVLpvWw4LWU-N23txZ8FwyU_OpyWrq1QWhoMPZquz9EQ9YFh3FcS91kKsDRq58iAVUfJ8G9iO9-OkATrgJg5TpW596tuBqSVVWVQ3A1gdMb1kFl0GQ0DGTyO2zJQ17ZT7EGOh5EpvyIZ9e_oIQ3-QVfkGduG0emm1PZacr3cU/w200-h125/DSCF5465.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>I recently found 19 postcards, printed by the London Missionary Society, in my father's old files. Here is one. The photographs were taken between 1899 and 1919 -- the time that the Gowards were in the Gilberts. I have put all of the postcards on Facebook.<div><br /><div><span style="color: #cc0000;">POSTSCRIPT:</span> I have sent these to the CWM (formerly LMS) archives. They have a keen interest in such history.</div></div>Thomas O. Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09806849087817328366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-30333619310598930952024-03-16T10:55:00.002+02:002024-03-16T17:51:59.477+02:00Spaza Security<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjBf9iYzGOri64yUq7WK-sTPBObEW0wJS8yfS7zm1lxzrsVJV38413lIRgSc_VFc0CoqVj_LWOxF2b9-DU8e58Hy34nAmnGYMbmjOMPysxDxZsbddT-laXM7eW0wyJmW5N68jePnc1yfp12pU8nbx-C4AfCjx3I6-J5p4I0LyZ7E9xo0dO_jLWgOY6lks/s1817/Spaza%20B.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1297" data-original-width="1817" height="143" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjBf9iYzGOri64yUq7WK-sTPBObEW0wJS8yfS7zm1lxzrsVJV38413lIRgSc_VFc0CoqVj_LWOxF2b9-DU8e58Hy34nAmnGYMbmjOMPysxDxZsbddT-laXM7eW0wyJmW5N68jePnc1yfp12pU8nbx-C4AfCjx3I6-J5p4I0LyZ7E9xo0dO_jLWgOY6lks/w200-h143/Spaza%20B.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>I took this photo yesterday of a spaza shop (a small supermarket) outside Cape Town. Crime is at an extraordinary high ... and so are counter-measures. You may click on the photo to enlarge. <span style="color: #cc0000;">OBSERVATION:</span><span> The doors ironically say "WELCOME".</span>Thomas O. Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09806849087817328366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-88053941851631991332024-03-15T19:13:00.004+02:002024-03-15T19:20:12.790+02:00Passport Renewal<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhTnZP0nlgZ4WxkaE6kTGsr_hPlyFlvaD3nxveaK8YQ0Jc9tyBYiKh6wslhCRh1mdgAUo9Nrxh8oRSYVSCxoN97jqUoI4VEeZ_syk5MPhAoAh8WOCUGFQhKM-YmbIGmeP4Eo1rXO-N_02fgG0l78rT2aVKbFcpEN3zIdfE9PLHS60Z4oXZlrd-liuYjys/s1477/ASCF6711.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="1477" height="174" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhTnZP0nlgZ4WxkaE6kTGsr_hPlyFlvaD3nxveaK8YQ0Jc9tyBYiKh6wslhCRh1mdgAUo9Nrxh8oRSYVSCxoN97jqUoI4VEeZ_syk5MPhAoAh8WOCUGFQhKM-YmbIGmeP4Eo1rXO-N_02fgG0l78rT2aVKbFcpEN3zIdfE9PLHS60Z4oXZlrd-liuYjys/w400-h174/ASCF6711.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>I<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>visited the Department of Home Affairs today, to renew my passport. I was not expecting it to go well, as my application had already been stopped due to my being born in "that place". I arrived with wife E at about 11:30 for an appointment at 12:00. It was stunning. By 12:00, I had my passport so to speak (to be collected). E obtained her passport at the same time. <span style="color: #cc0000;">OBSERVATION:</span> It was funny how differently we approached it:<div><br /></div><div>I: Made an appointment a month in advance (that was the best that Home Affairs could offer me). I carried in a whole box of papers.<br /><div><br /></div><div>E: Found her passport minutes before we set off. Apart from that, she had no papers with her. And she went through the process faster than me!</div></div>Thomas O. Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09806849087817328366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-43436300469983104992024-03-14T20:21:00.000+02:002024-03-14T20:21:03.251+02:00Feral Cat<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj138PMxge6ULjfgUxFEz_pRsusISqkvXHcjwBI-UjzpshYgFk-u-zrPcDCwXIpQj53xyCluFqo1TYvhppHzvizUUMV7VKt9EvHV5FWS3Ib9cA4pORxlV3eKxByesD59JNV2XA23baVMDAtOpdKS8Lq2-Tt8aCW-Ssi5CYp_BoFSGwH3KdnfZIqKHppUjs/s828/DSCF5383B.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="621" data-original-width="828" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj138PMxge6ULjfgUxFEz_pRsusISqkvXHcjwBI-UjzpshYgFk-u-zrPcDCwXIpQj53xyCluFqo1TYvhppHzvizUUMV7VKt9EvHV5FWS3Ib9cA4pORxlV3eKxByesD59JNV2XA23baVMDAtOpdKS8Lq2-Tt8aCW-Ssi5CYp_BoFSGwH3KdnfZIqKHppUjs/w200-h150/DSCF5383B.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>One might call this a feral cat. I took the photo in a township in the Eastern Cape, earlier this year. It is wild -- and seldom comes close to humans. What struck me about this cat was its bright emerald eyes.<p></p>Thomas O. Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09806849087817328366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-43919114399394500052024-03-14T18:30:00.000+02:002024-03-14T18:30:44.153+02:00Plundered Garden<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_sSc1pOOhA_44Y-Wyl8TJQlK6oqxMkr6oAPMM3G0q5AA24u7G4wwFIOszmGSixAPzXEEs1oWPBCrEnnZWWhn8pPoHCTg83_ewqJzs16BTh1eU-Wj3FJaJ5U10oUX7jyXyS7Lt6F7JlsGU/s1600-h/SL731429.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219183562576764946" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_sSc1pOOhA_44Y-Wyl8TJQlK6oqxMkr6oAPMM3G0q5AA24u7G4wwFIOszmGSixAPzXEEs1oWPBCrEnnZWWhn8pPoHCTg83_ewqJzs16BTh1eU-Wj3FJaJ5U10oUX7jyXyS7Lt6F7JlsGU/s200/SL731429.JPG" style="cursor: hand; float: right; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px;" /></a>The Church garden, in city ministry, was the cause of much frustration. I joked that there was a reason my blog was not called Urban Ministry <i>Gardens</i>. As fast as we planted our garden, the public dug it up and walked off with it -- and that in spite of security fences and locked gates. I said to a deaconess once, “What happened to the orchid?” She said, “It was stolen -- of course.” <span style="color: #cc0000;">OBSERVATION:</span> This is one that got away (see the photo) -- it’s hard to steal a hibiscus tree!Thomas O. Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09806849087817328366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-30739943100392516102024-03-13T20:21:00.012+02:002024-03-13T21:43:00.103+02:00Dormant Accounts and Apple Sauce<p>I've been chasing up some (possibly) dormant accounts -- eight of them. So far, two yielded nothing, but two contained substantial amounts. Four to go. Yet two companies did something disquieting. They "read back" the account numbers to me ... but it was completely different numbers to what I put to them. For example, I put 144922-01 to one company -- they read back 59902010100. This number, they said stridently, had been closed -- one might call the response "apple sauce". One company freely confessed to changing the number -- and continued the inquiry without blinking. If you're caught out, pretend it didn't happen.</p>Thomas O. Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09806849087817328366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-58197001208666248432024-03-12T18:14:00.000+02:002024-03-12T18:14:15.177+02:00Assaulted by a Gunman<p>My niece A was brutally assaulted by a gunman today. I'd put up a photo here if she weren't such a "bloody mess". Thankfully she was not seriously injured. Her mother wrote, "We're OK." I said you're not OK. I myself was kidnapped at gunpoint, and I was cool about it -- so cool that my minister asked me to give a testimony in Church (I declined) -- but I suffered shock a few days later. The police apprehended the gunman who attacked A.</p>Thomas O. Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09806849087817328366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-138747346892453767.post-39803034950343700182024-03-12T18:01:00.009+02:002024-03-12T22:07:19.846+02:00AI Failure<p>I called a UK services provider today, and was greeted by AI. This was quick and competent, and routed me through to the correct consultant. But after the call, I didn't receive a promised e-mail. I called them up again. The AI asked me: what is this about? I said, "The consultant failed to e-mail me instructions for reactivation." That put the AI into apparent meltdown. It went off on an endless tangent of no relevance to me -- as if it were trying to write an encylopaedia entry -- and it would take no further input. Eventually I terminated the call. It was chewing up my monies.</p>Thomas O. Scarboroughhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09806849087817328366noreply@blogger.com0