Welcome to Life in 361˚. This blog is an 'open journal' - a space where I keep notes on bits & pieces I come across day-to-day - including books and articles I've read that I feel are worth sharing, interesting pictures and photos (I'm a visual learner, you see), random musings - and anything else that happens to catch my eye or ear. It also acts as a kind of 'open experiment' in terms of developing my views and writing skills - and networking with other people of a like-mind.

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Please Note: This site, and the social networking profile pages connected with it, reflect my personal interests & views which do not necessarily represent those of organisations I am affiliated / associated with.


Bad Friday

The sun was shining, the skies were a beautiful blue.

The City looked radiant in this light.

Some residents of The City were out and about enjoying the markets.

Others were off to a special event, whispering to each other excitedly.

A public execution was planned - a celebrity was about to be brought down.

They had built him up as the next great thing.

The Great Jewish Hope.

But they were quick to turn on him.

He was accused, beaten, humiliated.

Many a leader would have done a deal - joined a coalition maybe?

Many a leader would have called on their followers to seek vengeance.

Called for a crusade, called for jihad.

Declared a 'just war'.

Become a freedom fighter, become a terrorist.

He did nothing.

He did everything.

He didn't cower, he didn't fight back.

He decided to stand fast and accepted that in doing so, he must lose his life.

This man treasured life like no other, but he was willing to pay this price.

For his mission was greater.

They just didn't get it - they labelled him a loony, a clown, a ficiton.

He didn't fit with their times.

Or so the scribes said.

His followers cowered in fear, hidden amongst the crowds - fearful of standing out.

So he stood there alone, repeating his message, living out his example to its dreadful conclusion.

And he went further, forgiving his accusers, forgiving his attackers.

The crowds were confused, unnerved.

Some walked away, better to just ignore it.

Other attached themselves to other causes, easier causes.

The leaders denounced him further, quietly nervous.

Hours past and his breaths thinned, as did the crowds.

Those that were left grieved a grief like no other.

They grieved for a Friend,

They grieved for The Cause.

The Revolution was over,

or so it seemed...

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