Thursday, September 17, 2009
From Cato Institute
An Absence of Tobacco Evidence. By Patrick Basham, Cato Institute. The government knew that this claim, and the evidence that it was based on, was not true. Recently released DoH correspondence shows that the government was told in a March 2009 email that removing tobacco displays in Canada 'has not caused a decline in tobacco sales or discourage[ed] kids from smoking'. Yet, the anti-tobacco lobby continues to push for even more far-reaching tobacco control legislation. This past week, Action on Smoking & Health (Ash) trumpeted a new study about the influence of tobacco packages as proof that putting all tobacco products in plain packages was now required. Ash's Deborah Arnott told the BBC that: "This research shows that the only way of putting an end to this misleading marketing is to require all tobacco products to be sold in plain packaging." What Arnott did not tell the BBC was that she and Martin Dockrell, Ash's campaign manager, were not only two of the authors of the very study they so fulsomely praised, but Ash, along with the DoH, paid for the study.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Suffer :-)
So you have no comment about my smoker advocacy? Comment on my wonderful eco poetry then hehe
Joy Faulkner
Joy Faulkner
SHUTTLE TO MOTHER-SHIP
There’s a hole in the sky
Letting death rays in
The rain comes down
And burns the skin
Another forest fall
Losing oxygen, hard to breathe
And the fat cat sits
In a tall glass tower
Counting his money
Hour after hour
A black slick on
The ocean boils
Dumping ground for human soils
Raped by drift net, void of life
Another food chain lost
Losing sustenance, hard to feed
And the fat cat sits
In a tall glass tower
Counting his money
Hour after hour
Paranoia spreads over the land
People see others through eyes of fear
Minds poisoned by chemicals
Science baffled by new disease
Humanity buckling at the knees
Trying to breed through rubber sheathes
And the fat cat sits
In a tall glass tower
Counting his money
Hour after hour
The shuttle flew low across the sky
“Shuttle commander to mother-ship
Permission to leave this dying planet
Not even worth the time to burn it.
There only appears to be
One lower life form left at all
A fat cat sits in a large glass bowl
With bulging cheeks, and saucer eyes
Surrounded by piles of useless paper
Hardly worth turning to vapour.”
By Joy Faulkner
There’s a hole in the sky
Letting death rays in
The rain comes down
And burns the skin
Another forest fall
Losing oxygen, hard to breathe
And the fat cat sits
In a tall glass tower
Counting his money
Hour after hour
A black slick on
The ocean boils
Dumping ground for human soils
Raped by drift net, void of life
Another food chain lost
Losing sustenance, hard to feed
And the fat cat sits
In a tall glass tower
Counting his money
Hour after hour
Paranoia spreads over the land
People see others through eyes of fear
Minds poisoned by chemicals
Science baffled by new disease
Humanity buckling at the knees
Trying to breed through rubber sheathes
And the fat cat sits
In a tall glass tower
Counting his money
Hour after hour
The shuttle flew low across the sky
“Shuttle commander to mother-ship
Permission to leave this dying planet
Not even worth the time to burn it.
There only appears to be
One lower life form left at all
A fat cat sits in a large glass bowl
With bulging cheeks, and saucer eyes
Surrounded by piles of useless paper
Hardly worth turning to vapour.”
By Joy Faulkner
GENERATIONS PAST
Make love, not war, a rebel yell
Woodstock, it rose and then it fell
The birthplace of a hope for peace
A search for truth that will not cease
But dreams of youth are fleeting things
Were they not puppets pulled by strings
Where are the children of that hour
With their hippie beads and their flower power
Youthful arms stretched out in quite rage
Aimed at those of a different age
Woodstock, was it all a lie, just another name
Is the word generation not to blame
Woodstock, a generation of the past
The future catches up so fast
Establishment, to be mistrusted, a dirty word
But wait, after all these years, it seems absurd
Look around, who pulls the strings? They now reign
Have you felt the peace and love or just more pain
Have you heard the cry of youth today
Listen close, you may hear them say
Woodstock never really went away, just a name
Generation is the thing to blame, it will always be the same
So act your age, put on that tie and collar
Your turn has come to chase the almighty dollar
By Joy Faulkner
Make love, not war, a rebel yell
Woodstock, it rose and then it fell
The birthplace of a hope for peace
A search for truth that will not cease
But dreams of youth are fleeting things
Were they not puppets pulled by strings
Where are the children of that hour
With their hippie beads and their flower power
Youthful arms stretched out in quite rage
Aimed at those of a different age
Woodstock, was it all a lie, just another name
Is the word generation not to blame
Woodstock, a generation of the past
The future catches up so fast
Establishment, to be mistrusted, a dirty word
But wait, after all these years, it seems absurd
Look around, who pulls the strings? They now reign
Have you felt the peace and love or just more pain
Have you heard the cry of youth today
Listen close, you may hear them say
Woodstock never really went away, just a name
Generation is the thing to blame, it will always be the same
So act your age, put on that tie and collar
Your turn has come to chase the almighty dollar
By Joy Faulkner
GOODBYE JOE
You came in a dream
Unraveled as in a fable
Silk, created from a sows ear
True beauty in the beast
In the eye of the beholder
The stuff legends are made of
For dreamers weave fables
Breathe life into legends
Pay the price for the blessing
For legends can’t die
Out on a hill where ghostly
Crowds linger still, laid to waste
In memory of past glory
Forgotton by fickle masses
Trapped in a world of lost embraces
Left to wander, down unknown streets
Where tomorrows legends are found
For dreamers weave fables
Breathe life in to legends
Pay the price for the blessing
For legends can’t die
Row upon row of poppies
Blowing in the wind of adulation
Don’t be fooled by their beauty
Lurking within they are waiting
Fanned by cool breezes, lay hidden diseases
Their heads bent and broken, sweet nectar run dry
Seeds of a new legend reach for the sky
For dreamers weave fables
Breathe life into legends
Pay the price for the blessing
For legends can’t die
You came in a dream
Plucked up in eagles talon, screeching
Turned to bloodcurdling nightmare
Suffocating in a sea of greenbacks
Lay waste in the wake of glorious talent
For the prison of a cold cement palace
Wave the legend goodbye By Joy Faulkner
This poem is dedicated to my favourite rocker. Joe Cocker. Rock on!!!
You came in a dream
Unraveled as in a fable
Silk, created from a sows ear
True beauty in the beast
In the eye of the beholder
The stuff legends are made of
For dreamers weave fables
Breathe life into legends
Pay the price for the blessing
For legends can’t die
Out on a hill where ghostly
Crowds linger still, laid to waste
In memory of past glory
Forgotton by fickle masses
Trapped in a world of lost embraces
Left to wander, down unknown streets
Where tomorrows legends are found
For dreamers weave fables
Breathe life in to legends
Pay the price for the blessing
For legends can’t die
Row upon row of poppies
Blowing in the wind of adulation
Don’t be fooled by their beauty
Lurking within they are waiting
Fanned by cool breezes, lay hidden diseases
Their heads bent and broken, sweet nectar run dry
Seeds of a new legend reach for the sky
For dreamers weave fables
Breathe life into legends
Pay the price for the blessing
For legends can’t die
You came in a dream
Plucked up in eagles talon, screeching
Turned to bloodcurdling nightmare
Suffocating in a sea of greenbacks
Lay waste in the wake of glorious talent
For the prison of a cold cement palace
Wave the legend goodbye By Joy Faulkner
This poem is dedicated to my favourite rocker. Joe Cocker. Rock on!!!
DREAMTIME WALKABOUT
There’s a gem in the hills of Eden
A cackling call of kookaburra
The passionate sigh in timeless silence
Blinded by the thunderous beauty
Of a simple garden variety sweet pea
Visions of blissful contentment
Down the information highway
In a dreamtime walkabout
Glorious inner beauty abounds
From this wondrous soulful flower
Showering flickering bursts of light
Through technological wizardry
Joy reaches out tran-tasmanly
Tenderly it touches me
Vivid portraits of peace and tranquility
Whispering eloquently sensuality and love
The pounding heart can be heard
Down the information highway
In a dreamtime walkabout
Mechanically connected
Soul-mate to soul-mate
Long searched for sweet perfection
Kindling desire, lighting the fire
Cherished sweetheart, worthy of the wait
Transversing from dream machine
To beauteous reality
Awesome is the word that travels
Down the information highway
In a dreamtime walkabout
By Joy Faulkner
There’s a gem in the hills of Eden
A cackling call of kookaburra
The passionate sigh in timeless silence
Blinded by the thunderous beauty
Of a simple garden variety sweet pea
Visions of blissful contentment
Down the information highway
In a dreamtime walkabout
Glorious inner beauty abounds
From this wondrous soulful flower
Showering flickering bursts of light
Through technological wizardry
Joy reaches out tran-tasmanly
Tenderly it touches me
Vivid portraits of peace and tranquility
Whispering eloquently sensuality and love
The pounding heart can be heard
Down the information highway
In a dreamtime walkabout
Mechanically connected
Soul-mate to soul-mate
Long searched for sweet perfection
Kindling desire, lighting the fire
Cherished sweetheart, worthy of the wait
Transversing from dream machine
To beauteous reality
Awesome is the word that travels
Down the information highway
In a dreamtime walkabout
By Joy Faulkner
CLICKING, CLICKING, CLICKING.
From early in the morning
Till bedtime late at night
I’m clicking, clicking, clicking
It’s doing in my head
I am an internet marketer
Please won’t you join my down-line
I spend my days looking at your
So you can look at mine
To do this I need credits
To get enough takes time
So I sit here in traffic for hours
Clicking, clicking, clicking
May I tell you folks
That some of yours
Are driving me bananas
Trisha of Indiana is tired after 17 years of
Clicking, clicking, clicking
Patrick, take your survey club
And stick it where the sun don’t shine
God, Fruta Vida’s everywhere,
the answer to all our prayers
Well whoop-de-do but I can’t stand you
You lock me up and slow me down
I cannot surf
Blast, I’ve just been passed
By another surfer at ts25
Can’t take much more,
Means less chance to show you mine
Another marble just hit the floor
Must go now and keep
Clicking,clicking, clicking
By Joy Faulkner
From early in the morning
Till bedtime late at night
I’m clicking, clicking, clicking
It’s doing in my head
I am an internet marketer
Please won’t you join my down-line
I spend my days looking at your
So you can look at mine
To do this I need credits
To get enough takes time
So I sit here in traffic for hours
Clicking, clicking, clicking
May I tell you folks
That some of yours
Are driving me bananas
Trisha of Indiana is tired after 17 years of
Clicking, clicking, clicking
Patrick, take your survey club
And stick it where the sun don’t shine
God, Fruta Vida’s everywhere,
the answer to all our prayers
Well whoop-de-do but I can’t stand you
You lock me up and slow me down
I cannot surf
Blast, I’ve just been passed
By another surfer at ts25
Can’t take much more,
Means less chance to show you mine
Another marble just hit the floor
Must go now and keep
Clicking,clicking, clicking
By Joy Faulkner
WELCOME TO THE ERA OF FEAR
No wonder the willow weeps
It hears humanity crying in its sleep
So frightened of dying
So frightened of living
See how they run from the sun
Hear the cry, cover up or you die
Paranoia, welcome to the era of fear
Put out that fag your polluting my air
The booze is gonna get ya, take care
The grim reaper is everywhere
Don’t you think you should lose weight
Christ no, you can’t eat that
Living it seems is in the sunflower seed
So frightened of dying
So frightened of living
See how they run, paranoia
Welcome to the era of fear
See how they run, from everyone
Even lovings a sin
Skin to skin
In the heat of the night
When the time is oh so right
Hear lovers sigh, cover up or you die
Pleasure killer, and the moment is gone
Paranoia, welcome to the era of fear
Joy Faulkner
No wonder the willow weeps
It hears humanity crying in its sleep
So frightened of dying
So frightened of living
See how they run from the sun
Hear the cry, cover up or you die
Paranoia, welcome to the era of fear
Put out that fag your polluting my air
The booze is gonna get ya, take care
The grim reaper is everywhere
Don’t you think you should lose weight
Christ no, you can’t eat that
Living it seems is in the sunflower seed
So frightened of dying
So frightened of living
See how they run, paranoia
Welcome to the era of fear
See how they run, from everyone
Even lovings a sin
Skin to skin
In the heat of the night
When the time is oh so right
Hear lovers sigh, cover up or you die
Pleasure killer, and the moment is gone
Paranoia, welcome to the era of fear
Joy Faulkner
FOR THE FLICK OF A SWITCH
Weep willow weep
For even as you sleep
Man and his machine
Will steal your river
And you will wake to find
You’re crying in the desert
Damn you man, go to the sun
For your power
Reap the wind
Harness the ocean
But leave me in peace
Let me be
Strange said the swan
I’d this impression
That this lake was mine
Generations have pasted
Now you say I am the last
Damn you man, go to the sun
For your power
Just for the flick of a switch
You will take all this beauty
Turn it into a ditch
The swallow flew up
He yawned, he was bored
He’d seen it all before
The willow has wept
The mountain has slept
The river has rushed to the ocean
For years, shed no tears
The mighty have power
But the mighty they fall
And the meek inherit the earth
By Joy Faulkner
Weep willow weep
For even as you sleep
Man and his machine
Will steal your river
And you will wake to find
You’re crying in the desert
Damn you man, go to the sun
For your power
Reap the wind
Harness the ocean
But leave me in peace
Let me be
Strange said the swan
I’d this impression
That this lake was mine
Generations have pasted
Now you say I am the last
Damn you man, go to the sun
For your power
Just for the flick of a switch
You will take all this beauty
Turn it into a ditch
The swallow flew up
He yawned, he was bored
He’d seen it all before
The willow has wept
The mountain has slept
The river has rushed to the ocean
For years, shed no tears
The mighty have power
But the mighty they fall
And the meek inherit the earth
By Joy Faulkner
CAN YOU HELP ME FRIEND
Out of the shadows of memory
A haunting dream mystifies me
She comes, and disappears repeatedly
She looks down in sorrow
At the flower clutched in her hand
And I cry at her simplicity
As she offers it to me, and pleads
Can you help me friend
This flower appears to have lost its power
The confusion of it wakes me
I don’t understand
But soon enough I drift back to sleep
And find her waiting there for me
An artist vision in full surround
The horizon is fill with artillery fire
The hills behind her run with blood
The field at her feet are strewn with dead
I know it’s a dream, I want to wake
But she stares at me with those soulful eyes
Her hair glows gold in the blazing skies
Her shell like beads tug at her throat
Like a phantom from the past
She looks down in sorrow
At the flower clutched in her hand
And I cry at her simplicity
As she offers it to me, and pleads
Can you help me friend
This flower appears to have lost its power
I curse this dream, as she disappears
Leaving me with unknown fears
I want to laugh, I don’t know why?
I wish she would stay a while
So I could hold her
That’s what I should have told her
Everytime it’s the same
This crazy dream, leaves me cold
Wondering what her message was
And I cry at her simplicity
As she offers me that wilting flower
And once again she says to me
Can you help me friend
This flower appears to have lost its power
By Joy Faulkner
This poem is dedicated to my sister Joan who died in the 60's of a herion overdose. She died clutching in her arms her 9 month old baby daughter.
Out of the shadows of memory
A haunting dream mystifies me
She comes, and disappears repeatedly
She looks down in sorrow
At the flower clutched in her hand
And I cry at her simplicity
As she offers it to me, and pleads
Can you help me friend
This flower appears to have lost its power
The confusion of it wakes me
I don’t understand
But soon enough I drift back to sleep
And find her waiting there for me
An artist vision in full surround
The horizon is fill with artillery fire
The hills behind her run with blood
The field at her feet are strewn with dead
I know it’s a dream, I want to wake
But she stares at me with those soulful eyes
Her hair glows gold in the blazing skies
Her shell like beads tug at her throat
Like a phantom from the past
She looks down in sorrow
At the flower clutched in her hand
And I cry at her simplicity
As she offers it to me, and pleads
Can you help me friend
This flower appears to have lost its power
I curse this dream, as she disappears
Leaving me with unknown fears
I want to laugh, I don’t know why?
I wish she would stay a while
So I could hold her
That’s what I should have told her
Everytime it’s the same
This crazy dream, leaves me cold
Wondering what her message was
And I cry at her simplicity
As she offers me that wilting flower
And once again she says to me
Can you help me friend
This flower appears to have lost its power
By Joy Faulkner
This poem is dedicated to my sister Joan who died in the 60's of a herion overdose. She died clutching in her arms her 9 month old baby daughter.
Conway Who?
CONWAY WHO??
My friends say I’m going crazy
They say come on girl, what have you been smokin
Doesn’t bother me, they think I’m jokin
Set my sights on a New York condo
Nothing to this songwriting thing
But bless my soul, so many words
Blasting round my head, and all I can say is
Hey ditty do wah do wah do
Can you see them rolling in the aisle
Hey girl, are you living in the past
Hey ditty do wah do wah do
Sounds like something sung by Conway Twitty
Can you get there on a wing and a prayer
All it takes is a great one liner
Like a poet with writers block
I sent a letter to my love
Knocked on heavens door, been to paradise
Traveled the road to hell, kisses an angel as well
The words are screaming round and round
And all I can find to say is
Hey ditty do wah do wah do
Can you see them rolling in the aisle
Hey girl, are you living in the past
Hey ditty do wah do wah do
Sounds like something sung by Conway Twitty
The streets of New York are paved with gold
Just get a million records sold
Such a pity. Trying to take the market by storm
Words exploding in my head, so much to be said
Going to kiss my baby goodbye, make a grown man cry
Take you up, bring you down, act the clown
Just when I find the words, pen is poised
Try to get it down, all I can say is
Hey ditty do wah do wah do
Hey ditty do wah do wah do
By Joy Faulkner
Silly really :-)
My friends say I’m going crazy
They say come on girl, what have you been smokin
Doesn’t bother me, they think I’m jokin
Set my sights on a New York condo
Nothing to this songwriting thing
But bless my soul, so many words
Blasting round my head, and all I can say is
Hey ditty do wah do wah do
Can you see them rolling in the aisle
Hey girl, are you living in the past
Hey ditty do wah do wah do
Sounds like something sung by Conway Twitty
Can you get there on a wing and a prayer
All it takes is a great one liner
Like a poet with writers block
I sent a letter to my love
Knocked on heavens door, been to paradise
Traveled the road to hell, kisses an angel as well
The words are screaming round and round
And all I can find to say is
Hey ditty do wah do wah do
Can you see them rolling in the aisle
Hey girl, are you living in the past
Hey ditty do wah do wah do
Sounds like something sung by Conway Twitty
The streets of New York are paved with gold
Just get a million records sold
Such a pity. Trying to take the market by storm
Words exploding in my head, so much to be said
Going to kiss my baby goodbye, make a grown man cry
Take you up, bring you down, act the clown
Just when I find the words, pen is poised
Try to get it down, all I can say is
Hey ditty do wah do wah do
Hey ditty do wah do wah do
By Joy Faulkner
Silly really :-)
Old Heart, New Song
OLD HEART, NEW SONG
The music man weaves his magic
Blesses the word with soulful sound
How does the wordsmith let him know
The beauty he holds within his hand
I find it very hard to say
The words that well within
You’ve touched a dreamers fantasy
However do I say to thee
You have lit the light I see
You’ve bought to wing the song
I made a friend just yesterday
Who has given me tomorrow
Found the words I had to say
A blend of joy and sorrow
A poets lilt
From it you built, a hope
That takes this aging heart to flight
It soars with joy in sheer delight
I am the word
You are the song
Sing me
By Joy Faulkner
The music man weaves his magic
Blesses the word with soulful sound
How does the wordsmith let him know
The beauty he holds within his hand
I find it very hard to say
The words that well within
You’ve touched a dreamers fantasy
However do I say to thee
You have lit the light I see
You’ve bought to wing the song
I made a friend just yesterday
Who has given me tomorrow
Found the words I had to say
A blend of joy and sorrow
A poets lilt
From it you built, a hope
That takes this aging heart to flight
It soars with joy in sheer delight
I am the word
You are the song
Sing me
By Joy Faulkner
Never The Twain
NEVER THE TWAIN
I am a splash on the sea of devotion
You are the star that twinkles so bright
I am the whistle in the wind of emotion
You are the moonbeam that lights up the night
I reach out to touch
Your no greater than I
With sadness I cry
Never the twain shall meet
I am a cloud, the cotton-wool dreamer
You are the light at the end of the tunnel
I am the raindrop in the pool of lifes schemers
You are the roar of a mighty ships funnel
I reach out to touch
Your no greater than I
With sadness I cry
Never the twain shall meet
I am a fan blowing flowers your way
You are a world wonder, here to stay
I am a river of love, no less than thee
You are the mountain lake that feeds me
I reach out to touch
Your no greater than I
With sadness I cry
Never the twain shall meet
By Joy Faulkner
I am a splash on the sea of devotion
You are the star that twinkles so bright
I am the whistle in the wind of emotion
You are the moonbeam that lights up the night
I reach out to touch
Your no greater than I
With sadness I cry
Never the twain shall meet
I am a cloud, the cotton-wool dreamer
You are the light at the end of the tunnel
I am the raindrop in the pool of lifes schemers
You are the roar of a mighty ships funnel
I reach out to touch
Your no greater than I
With sadness I cry
Never the twain shall meet
I am a fan blowing flowers your way
You are a world wonder, here to stay
I am a river of love, no less than thee
You are the mountain lake that feeds me
I reach out to touch
Your no greater than I
With sadness I cry
Never the twain shall meet
By Joy Faulkner
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