Have faith, young Jedi!
https://piefed.social/c/historymemes/p/1812714/have-faith-young-jedi
Have faith, young Jedi!
https://piefed.social/c/historymemes/p/1812714/have-faith-young-jedi
This vile man's promotion of hatred against Muslims is appalling, as is the failure of his fellow Republicans to oust him.
#USPolitics #RandyFine #Islamophobia #HateSpeech #Sectarianism #Florida #Republicans #RightWing #Conservatives

Rep. Randy Fine, R-Fla., prompted calls for his resignation from Democrats and a major Islamic civil rights group after suggesting in a social media post that he'd choose dogs over Muslims."If they force us to choose, the choice between dogs and Muslims is not a difficult one," Fine posted to the social media platform X on Sunday.
“All religions are paths to God. I will use an analogy, they are like different languages that express the divine.”*…
A special Sunday edition: an excerpt from Kwame Anthony Appiah‘s Captive Gods…
Much of my life has been spent in and around religious traditions. I have feasted at Eid al-Fitr with my Muslim cousins, celebrated Seders at home with my in-laws, recited a Sanskrit mantra as I meditated alone, and attended a nuptial Mass conducted by a cardinal. In my childhood, I sang in an Anglican school choir in England, went to Sunday school back home in Ghana in an interdenominational church (dressed in my Sabbath finery), and murmured “Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep” in prayer each night before I retired. My weekly recitation of the Nicene Creed was quite sincere, even if I always had difficulty understanding how Christ could be of “one substance with the Father”; the words had some extra-semantic resonance. Like millions of people, I have experienced the inward peace that comes from meditation — the sense of oneness with everything that is spoken of in contemplative traditions from around the world; but I have felt that sense of communion, too, at the end of a long season of training, rowing with my fellow oarsmen in perfect concord on the Thames near Henley, when my body was working as hard as it ever has. Then, as in the daily meditations of my teenage years, I felt with the Blessed Julian of Norwich, who lived six centuries ago, that “all will be well and all will be well, and all manner of things will be well.” As a child, I gained security from a gold cross that hung on a chain around my neck, which had been blessed by a spirit that spoke through the mediumship of a modest Scottish postman, who also reassured me by transmitting benevolent messages from my long-dead English grandfather.
And because much of my childhood was spent in Kumasi, in Ghana’s Ashanti region, I followed my father in pouring libations to our ancestors, who were once as real to me as the God whose presence I felt when I prayed. We would offer spirituous beverage, in particular, to the founder of my father’s lineage, the warrior Akroma-Ampim. Nana Akroma-Ampim, begye nsa nom: Akroma-Ampim, our elder, come take this alcohol to drink. We would honor, too, our formidable greatgrandmother Takyiwah, or her brother Yao Antony, for whom, like Akroma-Ampim, I was named. Mind you, my father was an elder in his Methodist church and considered himself a good Christian; but as a proud Asante man, he also shared the “traditional” beliefs of the world where he grew up. If he dreamed, it meant that his sunsum — a spirit of consciousness — was traveling the realm; when he died, he believed, something would leave his body and join the ancestors, to be given offerings on occasion. He joined in practices related to Nyame, the sky god, as well as to Asase Yaa, the earth goddess, and to other spirits of divers kinds. There were ritual practices and prayers, and professional priests and shrines of varying degrees of authority and various scopes of jurisdiction. (When he visited friends in, say, Sierra Leone, he expected that, just as the people were different there, so the gods would be: alternative technologies of the divine.)
Via the ever-illuminating Alan Jacobs.
[Image above: source]
* Pope Francis (echoing Ramakrishna: “All religions are true. God can be reached by different religions. Many rivers flow by many ways but they fall into the sea. They all are one.”)
###
As we embrace understanding, we might recall that it was on this date in 1970 that Apple Records released George Harrison’s “My Sweet Lord.” Inspired by the Hindu god Krishna and the Christian hymn “Oh Happy Day,” it is a call to abandon religious sectarianism (using devices like the blending of the Hebrew word hallelujah with chants of “Hare Krishna” and Vedic prayer).
Harrison’s first release as a solo artist, it topped charts worldwide; it was the biggest-selling single of 1971 in the UK. In America and Britain, the song was the first number-one single by an ex-Beatle.
#alanJacobs #culture #divine #faith #georgeHarrison #history #kwameAnthonyAppiah #mySweetLord #philosophy #popeFrancis #ramakrishna #religion #sectarianism #tolerance #understanding
Osho Bhagwan Sri Rajneesjh now 3HO
Survivor Sarito Carroll exposes osho sect secret:
Did Netflix's hit documentary Wild Wild Country unintentionally glamorize one of history’s most dangerous cult leaders? In this riveting episode of Cult Conversations: The Influence Continuum, renowned cult expert Dr. Steven Hassan speaks with Sarito Carroll, survivor and author of In the Shadow of Enlightenment, revealing the chilling realities behind Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh (Osho) and his infamous commune, Rajneeshpuram. Uncover the disturbing truths about abuse, mind control, and manipulation that Netflix didn’t show
Forty Years After the Oregon Cult Commune: The Girl from the Osho Ranch
Anke Richter
Indian spiritual leader Osho’s communes drew thousands of seekers to India and the US, where children like Sarito Carroll endured neglect and sexual abuse under the guise of spiritual freedom. Carroll now recounts her childhood in a memoir and documentary that expose the crimes long hidden from public view. Her testimony signals renewed calls for accountability and justice for survivors of cult abuse.
Political sectarianism and redoubtable mothers: the thread about the Sciennes School Strike of 1925
As often seems to happen, I start off reading a little bit about one thing and then fall unwittingly yet compliantly down a deep rabbit hole with all kinds of unexpected tangents. So let’s unravel a bit of the Sciennes School Strike of 1925.
Sciennes, if you don’t know, is a neighbourhood in Edinburgh. You pronounce it to rhyme with machines (it’s a Scottish corruption of Sienna, after a convent that long ago stood here) and it is home to a school of the same name. To get to the root of our story we go back to 1872, when the Education (Scotland) Act of that year brought responsibility for mandatory schooling in Scotland under the control of local School Boards. For the Burgh of the City of Edinburgh (the formal name of the city) this was the Edinburgh School Board.
The roundel of the Edinburgh School Board, “the female figure of education” dispensing knowledge to the young. Dean Public School, one of the ESB’s first new schools after the 1872 act. © SelfMost of the existing schools at that time were either church, parish or charitably provided and those of the Presbyterian churches (that is the majority of all churches in Scotland at that time) and parishes were transferred directly to the School Boards. Most of these facilities were too small and found to be inadequate as teaching spaces for modern methods, so a crash building programme was initiated. Sciennes School was a product of this program, completed in 1892. Other public schools in the Southside of Edinburgh at the time included the 1877 Bristo School on the long demolished part of Marshall Street, Causewayside School on that street and later Preston Street school of 1896 on the east part of that street.
Sciennes Primary School, CC-BY-SA 4.0 StephencdicksonBoard schools, while largely Protestant in outlook, were strictly speaking non-denominational and there was no direct church control (although the churches had a reserved seat in the board’s membership). Crucially to what would happen in the future though, Catholic schools were not covered by the 1872 act and remained in control of that church, with the Scottish Episcopal Church also choosing to remain independent at this time, fearing the erosion of their denominational, religious education. To provide for a Catholic education in central Edinburgh therefore that Church set up a school, St. Columba’s. It moved around a bit, repeatedly outgrowing a series of unsuitable premises, before settling in a converted townhouse at 81 Newington Road. You can still see where the sign once was.
81 Newington Road, you can see where the sign would have been above the central window.Edinburgh’s Catholic population was growing quite rapidly at the time with immigration into the city centre from both Ireland and Italy. And then came the 1918 Education (Scotland) Act, which brought the Catholic schools into control of the state sector, with the School Boards rationalised into larger local Education Authorities, with wider responsibilities. Like the old School Board, the Edinburgh Education Authority (EEA) was directly elected by popular ballot and was outwith direct control of the City Corporation or any church; although a system of proportional representation meant a balance of Presbyterian, Episcopal and Catholic members had reserved places on its board. The new authority was unimpressed by the size and quality of the facilities it had inherited off the R. C. Church (actually, it bought them off them under the provisions of the 1918 act) so set about trying to find a better home for St. Columba’s.
The post-WW1 economic slump meant there wasn’t the money to go around to build a new school – particularly a minority school – so the EEA looked to rationalise its public schools in the Southside, which it found had an excess of capacity, and make one of them into a new Catholic school. The plan seemed simple enough; move St. Columba’s to the half-empty Causewayside School and transfer that school’s roll to Sciennes, Bristo or Preston Street schools, whichever alternative was closest to children’s homes.
Causewayside School, architectural elevation by Robert Rowand Anderson, which would later become St. Columba’sAfter the numbers were crunched, 154 children were to be relocated from Causewayside to Sciennes, 101 to Preston Street and 66 to Bristo. 291 children were to transfer in turn from St. Columba’s into its new home and 81 Newington Road would be disposed of. All simple enough and making better use of the Authority’s resources, so it should be relatively uncontroversial administrative change, yes?
No. What happened next was the emergent Scottish Protestant League decided to wade into things and try and make it a wedge issue – stirred up in part by local lawyer, political dabbler and green inker, Robert Sterling Craig Esq SSC, known as Sterling Craig. Sterling Craig was nominally a Liberal and therefore opposed to any place for religious education in schools, but it seems clear from his writing and speaking on the subject that he also had a clear anti-Catholic bent. When the Authority announced its decision towards the end of the school term in June 1924 he and a local parish councillor, Mrs Inglis Clark, organised a public meeting in protest “in the strongest way“.
What followed next was a rather predictable series of conflicting arguments by Sterling Craig and Clark, which began to descend into the disingenuous, e.g. the alternatives would be too far, causing 2 or 3 mile walks to school (Sciennes and Preston Street were less than 500m away). The EEA was accused of inflating the roll of St. Columba’s by “stuffing” it with children from the Catholic Home (an orphanage), a claim the Authority flat out denied: they claimed 477 children were being displaced – the Authority said it was 321. Sterling Craig simultaneously claimed that Causewayside was a non-denominational school (it was) but also “Protestant” (it wasn’t, although likely much of the school roll was). His loud and authoritative voice drowned out the views and representations of the parents and children impacted by this. He had previously sat on the Edinburgh School Board and was standing for the upcoming Edinburgh Education Authority election and decided to make this issue a key plank of his campaign. His letters to the Scotsman refer to “the Roman Catholics” and “the Roman Catholic Children” in a very othering tone – they are quite unpleasant to read in places with retrospect.
Sterling Craig was upset that a “central” school (i.e. one serving a wide rather than strictly local catchment) was being located in the Southside of the city; that children would be bused-in (actually, trammed) at the Authority’s expense and that they would be given school meals at the EEA‘s expense (at this time most school children went home for their lunch time) – despite these all being provisions in line with the 1918 act and therefore a legal obligation for the authority. To boil his arguments down to a single sentence, they would be: I’m not anti-Catholic, but can’t they just go some place else? To this extent he suggested wholly inadequate facilities at Old St. Patrick’s in the Canongate (the Authority pointed out that they didn’t own these and so would have to buy and renovate them at its own expense). It was all very not from round here and he and his allies in Mrs Inglis Clark and others began to go rather seriously down the route of sectarian scaremongering. However the EEA, to its credit, stuck to its plans and even managed to get most of the parents would would be impacted by the changes on side. The nay-sayers were not placated however and together with the nascent Scottish Protestant League (SPL) under Alexander Ratcliffe and a number of local Presbyterian churchmen, they organised a “Great Protestant Rally” at the Livingstone Hall on South Clerk Street in January 1925, which was attended by around 500.
Advert for the Great Protestant Rally, Edinburgh Evening News, 3rd January 1925The meeting denounced the Education Authority as “traitors” and as a result the SPL – which claimed itself apolitical – and Sterling Craig agreed on a platform of trying to take over the Education Authority at the upcoming elections and campaign for repeal those provisions of the 1918 Education (Scotland) Act that they disliked; namely the state provision of R. C. education. Sterling Craig’s words were reported as “the only thing that prevented ‘the Catholics’ walking back to St. Columba’s and the old school going back to Causewayside was the laziness of the ratepayers” (if only people would turn out and vote for him, he would sort it out).
1935 reprint of The Protestant Advocate in Ratcliffe’s own newspaper, the Protestant VanguardIn case you didn’t realise it by the way – 1920s and 30s Edinburgh local politics was quite a hotbed of anti-Catholicism. The Protestant League stood seven candidates in the 1925 Authority election, Sterling Craig stood himself as an independent. Just one of the those candidates – Alexander Ratcliffe (who styled himself “Scotland’s Modern John Knox” and went as far as to refer in public to St. Columba’s as “the now misnamed St. Columba’s“) – was elected, as was Sterling Craig. Ratcliffe soon turned his ire to the opening of a Carmelite Convent in the city before getting altogether a bit bored of Edinburgh local politics. He would move to Glasgow where he made some inroads with the SPL in that Corporation’s elections of 1931, exploiting and stoking that city’s long-standing sectarian tensions. In Edinburgh it was to be the Protestant Action Society under John Cormack that would later take up the anti-Catholic political mantle. As a party held together purely by a common hatred, it was inevitable that the SPL would eventually become unstable. It split with the Ulster Protestant League in 1933 when Ratcliffe’s wife Mary and another SPL member attacked and defaced a (factually correct) painting in the Northern Irish parliament that showed the Pope celebrating William of Orange’s victory at the Boyne
William III, the Duke of Schomberg, and the Pope (top left, blessing the Protestant monarch from a cloud), by Pieter van der Meulen, c. 1690After falling out with the UPL, the SPL itself fell apart due to irreconcilable internal divisions. The Scottish protestant mainstream distanced itself from the increasingly extremist and unpredictable Alexander Ratcliffe. The man who had started his political life at the Edinburgh Education Authority moved on to dabbling with the Scottish fascists, who in turn kicked him out as being too extreme for even them. He has been described as “one of the very first Holocaust deniers in the country and perhaps even the world“. He was an extreme anti-Catholic and anti-Semite to his core who thought that Hitler and Mussolini were in league with the Pope to smash Protestantism… This conflicting and thoroughly distasteful man died at his home in Glasgow in 1947.
A wartime anti-Semitic pamphlet issued by Alexander RatcliffeBut back to Edinburgh and back to 1925, when St Columba’s opened its doors after the summer holidays, the former pupils of Causewayside School instead made their way to Sciennes, Preston Street and Bristo schools. How did this end up in a strike? Well what happened was that – in true local authority style – after winning parents over to its controversial plans the Education Authority went back on its assurances and rightly aggrieved a lot of parents. Sciennes, it said, was actually too full and so 150 or so children who had just recently been settled in at Sciennes would instead need to go to Bristo School.
Bristo Public School on Marshall Street. © Edinburgh City LibrariesThis poured salt on a wound that had not yet had any chance to heal and the mothers of the Southside were having none of it. Official phraseology such as “arriving at a more equitable distribution of scholars” just made things even worse. The problem was not just the repeated relocation of children, it was where they were to be moved to. Bristo was notoriously small and dark and dingy on the inside and as you can see from the aerial photo below it had a tiny playground that was penned in on all sides by tall tenements. Furthermore, it was fundamentally on the wrong side of the (tram) tracks for many parents.
Bristo Public School from the air – it is the building in the centre with the flat roof to the rear and the corner tower. You can see how penned in the playground at the back was, and how many of the school windows were in the shadow of neighbouring tenements. From Britain From AboveWithout the distraction of Sterling Craig or Mrs Inglis Clark and their anti-Catholic agenda, the mothers of the affected children quickly formed themselves into an effective deputation to the Education Authority. They literally marched strait there and beat on the door – turning up at its offices on Castle Terrace on September 2nd 1925 to demand an audience. For good measure, a flying squad was also send to the home of the Authority’s chairman – Councillor P. H. Allan – to wait for him in case he was there. When it became clear that the Authority was not for budging the mothers organised a public meeting on September 4th, packing out the Nicolson Square public hall. Councillor Mrs Adam Millar tried to cool things down but only inflamed the situation by saying it was not the Authority’s fault but the fault of parents as they had voted for the same EEA (or hadn’t bothered; turnout for the previous election was only around 20%). At the meeting the mothers of around 110 of the affected children agreed to stop sending them to school entirely if they could not send them to Sciennes. The Sciennes School Strike had begun.
Councillor P. H. Allan, Chairman of the Education AuthorityOn September 8th it was reported there were rumours that the strike would spread as a result of some children from Craiglockhart, Roseburn and Gorgie schools being dispersed to Dalry in the name of a “more equitable distribution of scholars“. The strike did not end up spreading but neither did it go away. The Authority tried to offer an olive branch and say children from the Buccleuch Street area could stay at Sciennes, however those from George Square would still have to go to Bristo. Whether this attempt at strikebreaking was a deliberate ploy to divide and conquer their opposition is unclear, but it failed. By September 15th, the 3rd week of the strike, it was still ongoing with 55 children remaining out of school. The mothers caused uproar in the Authority board room by turning up en masse with their children in tow and “infants in their arms“. But they did have sympathisers on the Authority and Mrs Swan Brunton* spoke out in their favour. At a deadlock, the Authority did what Authorities do best when they don’t know what to do and conceded to set up a Special Sub-Committee on School Congestion to look into the matter further.
Janet Swan Brunton 1882 – 1932. * = The redoubtable Mrs Swan Brunton JP, a suffragette of the Scottish Cooperative Women’s Guild. In 1928 she became only the 5th woman elected to the Corporation of Edinburgh, as a Labour member. She died suddenly in 1932 aged 50, in Glasgow at a meeting of the Scottish Cooperative Wholesale Society, and was buried in North Merchiston CemeterySeptember 21st. No resolution was in sight, 58 children were on strike from Sciennes and in total 86 across the city were. On September 24th the Scotsman reported that the Education Authority declared the strike had been broken and most of the children had returned to the schools it had allocated them to. The next day, September 25th, they had to print something of a retraction; the children had not in fact gone back to school and were still on strike. At a public meeting of ratepayers it had been agreed that a general strike of children should be called for in the Central District. Come September 26th the Authority remained unmoved, issuing a statement that it had acted in accordance with its statutory obligations and that if the 42 children on strike were not sent to school then they would start taking legal action to enforce it. But still the strike was not broken and so one month into the walkout, on October 6th, the Authority held an exceptional meeting. Mrs Swan Brunton implored her colleagues to use their common sense and allow the 40 children to go back to Sciennes as they had been promised, with Mrs Mclaren speaking in support. Unfortunately, Mrs Swan Brunton’s motion, seconded by Mrs Mclaren, was voted down. Alexander Ratcliffe blamed the Catholics as usual.
October 14th, five weeks in and the strike dragged on. It was suggested at an Authority meeting that if only the Corporation would repave the street outside Bristo School with wooden setts that the noise of traffic that affected it would be reduced sufficiently to entice the strikers to attend. Chairman Allan tried to force through a resolution to this effect but Mrs Swan Brunton challenged the count on the grounds that it had not reached a quorum of three quarters of members. She prevailed this time and the meeting then collapsed into farce and had to be adjourned. The Authority tried again the next week. One typically bureaucratic proposal that came out of this was to set up yet another sub-committee – the Special Committee on School Areas. Alexander Ratcliffe yet again agitated against “the Catholics” and also this time the Episcopalians, supported by Sterling Craig as seconder. It was agreed to set up the sub-committee and spent the rest of the meeting was spent listening to the extremist ramblings of Ratcliffe .
Eight weeks in on October 26th another meeting was held by the Education Authority. It lasted precisely two minutes before again collapsing into chaos when the chairman over-rode Mrs Swan Brunton’s motion for resolution. He left to the mothers in the gallery crying “Shame!” November 2nd. Week 9. The Chairman called a private meeting restricted to a sub-set of members of the Authority, with the mothers forced to wait outside the offices. The Authority could not bring itself to publicly concede but fundamentally capitulated when it agreed that the 46 children who had been moved from Sciennes to Bristo could instead have their pick of Castlehill, Preston Street, Tollcross or St. Leonard’s schools.
Castlehill School, now offering a very different sort of education as the Scotch Whisky ExperienceThe mothers decided as one that they would send their children to Preston Street. They were true to their word, and 37 mothers and 46 children arrived at the school door the very next day, November 3rd, exactly 2 months from the start of the strike. The strike was over. Almost: the Authority meeting had ended so late in the day that nobody had bothered to write to the Headteacher at Preston Street to inform them of the decision! The school refused to admit the children and sent them away. It was not until November 4th that the Head was satisfied with the paperwork and the children were admitted to Preston Street School. The Great Sciennes School Strike of 1925 was finally over.
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#Lochend #Logan #Restalrig #StMargaretSocial Media Is Navigating Its Sectarian Phase
https://www.newyorker.com/culture/infinite-scroll/social-media-is-navigating-its-sectarian-phase
#HackerNews #SocialMedia #Sectarianism #DigitalCulture #OnlineCommunity #SocialTrends