kettling or policeman's ball

The Russian Times is covering an international law enforcement convention in Philadelphia, where one of the distrurbing trends emerging is increase partnership between social-media utilities and police departments with the express and open-ended goal of hindering the right to assembly through the ability to censor content and upstarts deemed to be of a criminal or at least of a (potentially) peace-disrupting nature. While such collaborative efforts could reduce the ability for organised criminal syndicates to use the internet as a platform, like cyber highwaymen whose threat is greatly conflated and peddlers of hate that use these forums, this sort of alliance, already taking place in fits and starts, would do more to quell protests and promote the status quo, ignorance and misinformation. Of course, it does not stop with stopping rallies but I suppose such selectivity would necessarily extend to any unflattering portrayal or revelation regarding the giants of industry, in terms of health, safety and equity. Patently, it would become more and more difficult for organisers to mobilise support for movements and to distribute information that has not received the stamp-of-approval from the competent-authorities.

gelauscht oder tapped-out

Though no justification nor condolence, pardon moi for thinking that it had already been established that nothing is sacred and not privy to prying eyes and ears, and duly elected and appointed official truly have little control over the the culture of aggregated accretion of powers that have grown and sprawled in the name of security, frankness aside—like Angela Merkel's own Intelligence Chief, who could not account for the native agency's collaboration with America's.
There is nonetheless a distinct chill in the air, what with the litany of complaints and welling distrust surfacing. Although just tremolo-outrage surfaced when it was first suggested that Germany as a whole was siphoned through the safety-apparatuses of the States, compared to the latest revelations, the upward-osmosis and excess of raw data is disturbing. As no terrorist, of course, she or any one of us have nothing to fear, or so we are schooled to believe at the edges of exchanging indignation for appreciation of small courtesies, but again the spectre is raised—beyond a reasonable expectation of privacy or respect and transparency—of economic espionage, a read-ahead, that pits European values against American national interests. It is hard to say what ramifications such affronts might present? What do you think? Could this kind of largesse lead to a mass retreat, withdrawal—from NATO, from other contemporaneous treaties?

gaydar

Surely intolerance breeds intolerance, and no brown-skinned person is not subject to a host of speculation and profiling—or downright unwelcome for asylum-seekers, whenever in public in a place where he or she is other than the majority, but redoubling efforts do not solve prejudice.
Rather blamelessly and unabashed, a certain ministry of health official has boasted that their country has developed a screening- tool, a conflated medical test of undetermined techniques, for homosexual, transgender and cross-dressing potential visitors in order to deny them entry to the that country and the broader states in the region. The country, already heavily reliant on guest-workers, requires medical testing for applicants and proposes to simply add this to the battery—for a population attracted by the often disappointing lure of employment for people from desperate lands, without the luxury to be otherwise, where stigmatised for real, perceived or rejected identities. It's a dicey subject that has not been without other champions to a greater or lesser degree, but I don't think such a stance is really representative of any diaspora, where discrimination is no gateway to respect. Besides, it seems that we all ought to have learned how dangerous such a path can be and not something to dismiss.

diabolique

A few months ago, I learned about the interesting medieval folk-etymology, as it were, of attributing feats of human engineering and architecture to the Devil. Certainly a peasant would be struck with disbelief upon first encounter with some of the robust and precarious ramparts and bulwarks of civil design.

I came across another example recently, though I am not sure if the legend and name was meant more than figuratively, in the Devil's Sentry-Box, perched on a ravelin on the imposing citadel of Sisteron. To construct this bunker with a commanding (vertigo-inducing) view atop the river Durance and opposite the other-worldly cliff formation of le Rocher de la Baume, it's said cost the master-mason his soul.

aroma-therapy or lavender fields forever

Though I did not know until we arrived in Provence, the land and its craft really compliments the reputation that I am quietly garnering, only famous—as it were, to a few, as a crazy oil person.
There is no English equivalent for eine Kräuterhexe, which is a much more apt term. Driving through the countryside, we saw endless rows of lavender, shorn a bit as if it already had been harvested but everything smelled fresh and tranquil—if not a bit spinsterish but in a rustic and good way, and the source of one of my many potions. Unschooled and still learning about their application though I am, I do have the equipment, a starter set of essential oils (Ätherische Öle) with a little pouch of spells I carry with me, like the utility belt of the conjurer character Getafix from the Astérix le Gaulois saga (plus a diffusing gadget at home). Needless to say, with this air, I found very little need to sniff, supplement or to otherwise get a fix. Later, we visited the city of Grasse, another surprise, discovering that this metropolis of perfumes was instrumental in plying the trade, workshops perfecting the techniques to extract and distill the essence of aromas.
Despite still learning, I found myself already thinking how I could build a boiler and how hard it might be to produce my own oils and what other olfactory powers might be needed to complete my quiver. Lavender, incidentally, is promoted by homeopathic practitioners as a mood-stabiliser, as well as attending to a host of other problems from moths in the closet to allergies to sensitive skin but like any medicine is not magic and no panacea—meaning pan-prescription.

charter house, road house

Our journey homeward took an unexpected but pleasant turn through the Chartreuse Mountains near Grenoble, that lends its name to the monastic order of the Carthusians (Kartause, originally the Order of Saint Bruno of Köln), who are renown for their eponymous liqueur. It would have been short-shrift to visit without adequate time or preparation but we did get a bottle to sample later and are excited about seeing the region properly, next time.

French alchemists working for the royal court invented the secret blend of 130 herbs and plant-derivatives as an elixir of long-life and chartered the monks with producing the tonic and safeguarding the recipe, which is still only known to two living brothers at a time. It did not register to me at first, but we saw this cordial being served as an after-dinner digestif, with its distinctive yellow-to-green pale, also lending its name to the colour chartreuse. We understand that the taste is to cover quite a spectrum as well, ranging from tangy to sweet to spicy. Though the potion may not exactly provide the sough-after immortality, the alchemists and the monks surely must be on to something as chartreuse has the rare characteristic of improving with age and survived a rather colourful odyssey, remaining true to character and countering pretenders, throughout tumultuous ages.

salve regina

Marian elements and iconography have always played a significant role in religious architecture and are a common appellation, perhaps most famously in Notre Dame de Paris.
A great many places have churches and shires similarly dedicated to Our Lady but I was surprised to find it is not all that uncommon in the Provence to find sites not decorated with spires and steeples but an actual, sometimes colossal figure of Mary (absent from the most noted examples), like these dominating structures in Nyons in the Drôme, the courtyard of the Papal Palace (the so-called Babylonian Captivity) that transported the seat of popes and anti-popes from Rome to Avignon for a century during the late Middle Ages, or this presiding church on this high natural rocky pillar watching over the Verdon valley in Castellane.
Sometimes these glorious statutes were later additions and certainly not all buildings of worship (even those with the same devotionals) have the personification, so I wonder if there is some impetus, the recollection of a forgotten apparition, a sighting, or a particular miracle behind this statuary.