Three Years in Prison for Blogging

Today is the third anniversary of Raif Badawi’s arrest and the beginning of his imprisonment in a Saudi Arabian jail. One thousand one hundred and nineteen days since he was taken from his wife, seen in the photo above, and their children. Many protests are planned for today at embassies around the world; English PEN delivered a letter to 10 Downing St. today demanding official help in securing his immediate release. It was accepted but not by PM Cameron.

The immigration minister of Québéc, where his wife and children live, granted him a special immigration certificate a few days ago, which is remarkable and kind and, should he be released, needed. Declaring him welcome will not pry him from prison, and Saudi Arabia has already officially complained about Québécois “meddling,” however.

Raif Badawi’s story has earned more and more media interest in the last week. First, the fears expressed in this space (“A Sense of Injustice“) and elsewhere that the flogging that was suspended in January would be resumed came to naught, even though the supreme court reaffirmed his sentence last week. He was not flogged last Friday. Official reasons were not given, yet official and ominous statements of outrage at the global effort on Raif Badawi’s behalf continued to be released.
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Last Leaf on the Tree

The photo above was taken at around 1:00 p.m. September 21 in upstate New York, as the leaves were just beginning their annual color change. Starting with a deep green, they shift in color to a weak green, then yellow, then a red that I find beggars my attempts to describe it; it is a red I refer to as “fall foliage red,” because I do not run into it elsewhere.

This of course is a global phenomenon and most human beings do not need my poetical-ish endeavors in description, but we here in the Northeastern United States have fashioned something of a tourist trap out of this simple natural fact of life. “Come See Biology Happen!”
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Crisis Management

“Take my advice—I’m not using it.” I can tell you to keep calm. I might insist that you keep calm. But as someone who can introduce stress into the least stressful, sweetly innocuous, and even pleasant experiences in life, when I am confronted with the parts of life that others find truly stressful, I hunker down and find the effort deep inside myself to make them yet more stressful.

In one of my lesser achievements in the field of stress management, I gave myself a black eye while tying my shoes. These were boots with leather laces (I am not a cowboy) and such laces take a little effort to yank into position. While securing my “half-knot” on my right shoe, the length of lace in my left hand broke and I clocked myself in the right eye. At the time, I was 34 years old, not 11.
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