Cyber Bullying

Because I'm friends with a fellow author my books have now been added to a stupid shit list on Goodreads. Do they really think I give a toss? What drives these morons is anyone's guess but I suspect it's nothing more than an extremely low IQ coupled with a nasty case of verbal diarrhea. 

I do apologize  to all Goodreads reputable reviewers for my outburst because all writers respect the time & effort you put into your reviews whether they are in praise or constructively critical. But it only takes one moron (but there are many like this) to undermine your good work.

At the moment, myself and many other writers who just happen to know Rick Carufel are only on a stupid list http://www.goodreads.com/shelf/show/when-hell-freezes-over  however, Rick has many 1* so called reviews on his books that have nothing to do with the books and everything to do with bashing the author reputation, so no doubt they will get around to the rest of us sooner or later.

Now Rick has taken the brave step of fighting these bullies, check out the report below:

Carol x   

One Man’s Response to Cyber Crime

The following press release appeared yesterday on the subject of organised cyber stalking and cyber bullying…

***

Dateline Minnesota                             For Immediate Release                           May 18, 2013

Serial Cyber-stalking, Cyber-bullying and Harassment Rampant on the Internet

A Minnesota man is troubled by a case of wide-spread, serial cyber-stalking he has uncovered.

Rick Carufel has found a disturbing number of reports and evidence of blatant, organized cyber-stalking, cyber-bullying and harassment all originating from the same online source – a public forum owned by a well-known global corporation. It appears to have been ongoing for at least three years and involves dozens of people victimizing hundreds.

“There seems to be some indication that the corporation in question may be deliberately shielding those responsible and may even be actively supporting them. Recently I have seen an alarming number of cases concerning attacks on a certain group of individuals.”

It is obvious to anyone who carries out a cursory investigation by going to the website in question that the corporation has some very questionable policies which it has made no attempt to address, resolve or even acknowledge. The company’s public forums are the origin of what can only be described as vicious personal cyber-attacks to date. Even in the face of thousands of complaints, the corporation does nothing to correct the situation.

While researching the US cyber-stalking laws, Carufel has discovered that the Minnesota statute 609.749 clearly defines the activities of these people as criminal acts. This is the same statute used to prosecute predatory sex offenders who stalk underage victims online. There are between thirty and forty people currently responsible for hundreds of organized attacks with the intent to damage careers, reputations and income. These are not merely isolated incidents. Instead, when the predator’s focus their attention on an individual they keep up a sustained attack trying in every underhanded way possible to discredit, demean, insult, demonize and harass their victims across the internet at every opportunity.

Carufel said that according to his understanding of the situation, these people are committing crimes which the particular company that owns the website is fully aware of. “It’s absolutely amazing how many people these cyber-terrorists have frightened into not speaking out against them because of the threat of very damaging retaliation. These stalkers have found the perfect cover for their crimes, protected as they are by the company concerned.”

Carufel went on to say that these attacks if allowed to continue, will potentially cause millions in damage over time. “They are the offshoot of an industry in transition that desperately clings to outdated models and these waning industry leaders are not happy with the current state of events.  I’ve had reports that there may actually be corporate sponsorships for some of these attacks, targeting a certain segment of the industry most responsible for their decline. There is much more to be uncovered, but I am out of resources to pursue this investigation much further. I’m hoping to gather enough solid evidence together to compel the State and Federal authorities to request indictments.  These people are spreading terror and misery every day and must be stopped.  Their cover is diabolically clever and they have thus far managed to weather every attempt to root them out.  Hopefully armed with 609.749 by proving the association between the cyber stalkers and the particular corporation, we can accomplish that.”

Carufel stated that were he to publicly reveal the details, people would be shocked.  He stated that he already has enough evidence from his own case to send several of the individuals concerned to prison. Combine his evidence with the many other reports of similar personal attacks and harassment condoned by the corporation and Carufel hopes to have a deeper investigation into it and its system of protection tailored to accommodate these criminals.

The Peacock Writers

Check out this great new site of writers from around the world putting their talents to work for kids. They publish two collections a year of  children's stories and poems for all ages. All profits go to children's charities.

Okay I admit I'm one of them but I love idea of helping kids with my writing. We have four books published and another due this Autumn/Winter.

     A Whimsical Holiday for Children






         A Spooky Fall Harvest
           The Rain Cloud's Gift










Faeries, Pixies and Dragons, Oh My!




If you like the idea of helping other children when you buy books for yours then look no further.


The Peacock Writers - Home

Carol x

The Best Ideas are Always Simple

Strolling through Face Book today I read a post by a good writer friend of mine called Danny Kemp. I felt his post made so much sense; I had to share it with you all. What he says makes a lot of sense and if you have self-published writer friends you would like to support but can’t afford to buy or don’t want to read their books, you can help them in the following way. Read on, it’s very short.  

 From Danny Kemp

“I want to be serious for a moment, and take up your valuable time.

People have differing reasons for writing a book and people have differing reasons why they don't buy those books that are written. One thing that all writers, I would guess, have in common, is that they would love to be read. Books can be expensive and beyond the reach of some, or they a subject matter outside of interest, but without writers, they would be no books. Most people on these sites, within Face Book and on Twitter, are trying to get a 'name' in the literary world, and it's difficult, if not impossible for most of us.

This is where you come in. You can help without spending money, or extending your reading list.

If you know a writer that you would like to support, then you are that writer’s angel, and could open doors for him, or her, that they cannot.

Ask your Library to order that persons work. It is as simple as that. Some will only take them in a hardcover edition but there is no harm in asking, and YOU could make someone’s day.

Thank you for reading this, which I post on behalf of ever writer I know.”

                                                                            ******

So there you have it folks, no need to hide from author friends anymore. Just go to your local library armed with the title and ISBN number of their book which can be found on links the writer posts or places like Amazon. You will be a writer's angel.

Carol x

 

 

Better than any Christmas Card

From my good friend Danny Kemp

Now here's a thing, takes a bit of time to read it all, but worth it!

The old man sat in his gas station on a cold Christmas Eve. He hadn't been anywhere in years since his wife had passed away. It was just another day to him. He didn't hate Christmas, just couldn't find a reason to celebrate. He was sitting there looking at the snow that had been falling for the last hour and wondering what it was all about when the door opened and a homeless man stepped through.

Instead of throwing the man out, Old George as he was known by his customers, told the man to come and sit by the heater and warm up. "Thank you, but I don't mean to intrude," said the stranger. "I see you're busy, I'll just go."

"Not without something hot in your belly." George said.

He turned and opened a wide mouth Thermos and handed it to the stranger. "It ain't much, but it's hot and tasty. Stew ... Made it myself. When you're done, there's coffee and it's fresh."

Just at that moment he heard the "ding" of the driveway bell. "Excuse me, be right back," George said. There in the driveway was an old '53 Chevy. Steam was rolling out of the front.. The driver was panicked. "Mister can you help me!" said the driver, with a deep Spanish accent. "My wife is with child and my car is broken." George opened the hood. It was bad. The block looked cracked from the cold, the car was dead.

"You ain't going in this thing," George said as he turned away.

"But Mister, please help ..." The door of the office closed behind George as he went inside. He went to the office wall and got the keys to his old truck, and went back outside. He walked around the building, opened the garage, started the truck and drove it around to where the couple was waiting. "Here, take my truck," he said. "She ain't the best thing you ever looked at, but she runs real good."

George helped put the woman in the truck and watched as it sped off into the night. He turned and walked back inside the office. "Glad I gave 'em the truck, their tires were shot too. That 'ol truck has brand new ." George thought he was talking to the stranger, but the man had gone. The Thermos was on the desk, empty, with a used coffee cup beside it. "Well, at least he got something in his belly," George thought.

George went back outside to see if the old Chevy would start. It cranked slowly, but it started. He pulled it into the garage where the truck had been. He thought he would tinker with it for something to do. Christmas Eve meant no customers. He discovered the the block hadn't cracked, it was just the bottom hose on the radiator. "Well, shoot, I can fix this," he said to himself. So he put a new one on.

"Those tires ain't gonna get 'em through the winter either." He took the snow treads off of his wife's old Lincoln. They were like new and he wasn't going to drive the car anyway.

As he was working, he heard shots being fired. He ran outside and beside a police car an officer lay on the cold ground. Bleeding from the left shoulder, the officer moaned, "Please help me."

George helped the officer inside as he remembered the training he had received in the Army as a medic. He knew the wound needed attention. "Pressure to stop the bleeding," he thought. The uniform company had been there that morning and had left clean shop towels. He used those and duct tape to bind the wound. "Hey, they say duct tape can fix anythin'," he said, trying to make the policeman feel at ease.

"Something for pain," George thought. All he had was the pills he used for his back. "These ought to work." He put some water in a cup and gave the policeman the pills. "You hang in there, I'm going to get you an ambulance."

The phone was dead. "Maybe I can get one of your buddies on that there talk box out in your car." He went out only to find that a bullet had gone into the dashboard destroying the two way radio.

He went back in to find the policeman sitting up. "Thanks," said the officer. "You could have left me there. The guy that shot me is still in the area."

George sat down beside him, "I would never leave an injured man in the Army and I ain't gonna leave you." George pulled back the bandage to check for bleeding. "Looks worse than what it is. Bullet passed right through 'ya. Good thing it missed the important stuff though. I think with time your gonna be right as rain."

George got up and poured a cup of coffee. "How do you take it?" he asked.

"None for me," said the officer..

"Oh, yer gonna drink this. Best in the city. Too bad I ain't got no donuts." The officer laughed and winced at the same time.

The front door of the office flew open. In burst a young man with a gun. "Give me all your cash! Do it now!" the young man yelled. His hand was shaking and George could tell that he had never done anything like this before.

"That's the guy that shot me!" exclaimed the officer.

"Son, why are you doing this?" asked George, "You need to put the cannon away. Somebody else might get hurt."

The young man was confused. "Shut up old man, or I'll shoot you, too. Now give me the cash!"

The cop was reaching for his gun. "Put that thing away," George said to the cop, "we got one too many in here now."

He turned his attention to the young man. "Son, it's Christmas Eve. If you need money, well then, here. It ain't much but it's all I got. Now put that pea shooter away."

George pulled $150 out of his pocket and handed it to the young man, reaching for the barrel of the gun at the same time. The young man released his grip on the gun, fell to his knees and began to cry. "I'm not very good at this am I? All I wanted was to buy something for my wife and son," he went on. "I've lost my job, my rent is due, my car got repossessed last week."

George handed the gun to the cop. "Son, we all get in a bit of squeeze now and then. The road gets hard sometimes, but we make it through the best we can."

He got the young man to his feet, and sat him down on a chair across from the cop. "Sometimes we do stupid things." George handed the young man a cup of coffee. "Bein' stupid is one of the things that makes us human. Comin' in here with a gun ain't the answer. Now sit there and get warm and we'll sort this thing out."

The young man had stopped crying. He looked over to the cop. "Sorry I shot you. It just went off. I'm sorry officer."

"Shut up and drink your coffee " the cop said.

George could hear the sounds of sirens outside. A police car and an ambulance skidded to a halt. Two cops came through the door, guns drawn. "Chuck! You ok?" one of the cops asked the wounded officer.

"Not bad for a guy who took a bullet. How did you find me?"

"GPS locator in the car. Best thing since sliced bread. Who did this?" the other cop asked as he approached the young man.

Chuck answered him, "I don't know. The guy ran off into the dark. Just dropped his gun and ran."

George and the young man both looked puzzled at each other.

"That guy work here?" the wounded cop continued.

"Yep," George said, "just hired him this morning. Boy lost his job."

The paramedics came in and loaded Chuck onto the stretcher. The young man leaned over the wounded cop and whispered, "Why?"

Chuck just said, "Merry Christmas boy ... and you too, George, and thanks for everything."

"Well, looks like you got one doozy of a break there. That ought to solve some of your problems."

George went into the back room and came out with a box. He pulled out a ring box. "Here you go, something for the little woman. I don't think Martha would mind. She said it would come in handy some day."

The young man looked inside to see the biggest diamond ring he ever saw. "I can't take this," said the young man. "It means something to you."

"And now it means something to you," replied George. "I got my memories. That's all I need."

George reached into the box again. An airplane, a car and a truck appeared next. They were toys that the oil company had left for him to sell. "Here's something for that little man of yours."

The young man began to cry again as he handed back the $150 that the old man had handed him earlier.

"And what are you supposed to buy Christmas dinner with? You keep that too," George said. "Now git home to your family."

The young man turned with tears streaming down his face. "I'll be here in the morning for work, if that job offer is still good."

"Nope. I'm closed Christmas day," George said. "See ya the day after."

George turned around to find that the stranger had returned. "Where'd you come from? I thought you left?"

"I have been here. I have always been here," said the stranger. "You say you don't celebrate Christmas. Why?"

"Well, after my wife passed away, I just couldn't see what all the bother was. Puttin' up a tree and all seemed a waste of a good pine tree. Bakin' cookies like I used to with Martha just wasn't the same by myself and besides I was gettin' a little chubby."

The stranger put his hand on George's shoulder. "But you do celebrate the holiday, George. You gave me food and drink and warmed me when I was cold and hungry. The woman with child will bear a son and he will become a great doctor.

The policeman you helped will go on to save 19 people from being killed by terrorists. The young man who tried to rob you will make you a rich man and not take any for himself. "That is the spirit of the season and you keep it as good as any man."

George was taken aback by all this stranger had said. "And how do you know all this?" asked the old man.

"Trust me, George. I have the inside track on this sort of thing. And when your days are done you will be with Martha again."

The stranger moved toward the door. "If you will excuse me, George, I have to go now. I have to go home where there is a big celebration planned."

George watched as the old leather jacket and the torn pants that the stranger was wearing turned into a white robe. A golden light began to fill the room.

"You see, George ... it's My birthday. Merry Christmas."

George fell to his knees and replied, "Happy Birthday, Lord Jesus"


This story is better than any greeting card.
MERRY CHRISTMAS AND GOD BLESS!

Now clear the lump from your throat, blow your nose, and send this along to a friend of yours or someone who may need a reminder as to why we celebrate Christmas.

Did You Know

Women are better at negotiation, empathy, nurturing, support, group dynamics and multi tasking. Women observe, listen, and articulate better than men, they are also better at fine detail. It is a scientific fact that although women have smaller brains than men do, they are 3% more intelligent.

Men are better at fixing things and finding a destination. Men can always find north when asked. They are better at mathematics and chemistry. Their spacial awareness makes them good at judging volume and distances and very good at parking. 

Unfortunately, most women have trouble reading maps, telling right from left, are hopeless at finding north and poor spacial awareness leaves a lot to be desired on the parking front. Men on the other hand, can’t do more than one thing at a time, are totally inarticulate and completely deaf when either reading a newspaper or watching TV.

So, there you have it, science has now explained how the multi tasking ability of women and the tunnel vision of men; so useful in the Stone Age is the foundation of why we find it so difficult to co-exist today.

Bearing in mind what I have learned, I have decided to stop complaining about my partners cleaning methods in the kitchen, he can’t help missing most of the mess because he can’t see it. His inability to detect fine detail hampers him in this chore. 

 

Carol x 

Cranky Old Man....

I found this during my many wander across the net. As I’m fast approaching that time in life when people look at me and think (that’s an old person) I wanted to share this with you all. A beautiful but simple poem that needs to be set in stone and placed in every hospital, nursing home and place where the elderly dwell.

Read and remember….

Carol x

When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an Australian country town, they thought he had nothing left of any value. Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that they made copies and distributed them to every nurse in the hospital. One nurse took her copy to Melbourne. The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas editions of magazines around the country and appears in magazines for Mental Health. A slide presentation was made, based on his simple, but eloquent, poem. This old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet.

Cranky Old Man....

What do you see nurses?.... What do you see?

What are you thinking?.... When you're looking at me?
A cranky old man…. Not very wise,
Uncertain of habit…. With faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food…. and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice…. 'I do wish you'd try!'
Who seems not to notice…. the things that you do.
And forever is losing…. a sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not…. lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding…. the long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking?.... Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse…. You're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am…. As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding…. as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten…. with a father and mother.
Brothers and sisters…. who love one another.
A young boy of Sixteen…. with wings on his feet.
Dreaming that soon now…. a lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty…. my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows…. that I promised to keep.
At Twenty-Five…. now I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide…. and a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty…. my young now grown fast.
Bound to each other…. with ties that should last.
At Forty my young sons…. have grown and are gone,
But my woman is beside me…. to see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more…. babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children…. my loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me…. my wife is now dead.
I look at the future…. I shudder with dread.
For my young are all…. rearing young of their own.
And I think of the years…. and the love that I've known.
I'm now an old man…. and nature is cruel.
It's jest to make old age…. look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles…. grace and vigour, depart.
There is now a stone…. where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass…. A young man still dwells,
And now and again…. My battered heart swells
I remember the joys…. I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living…. life over again.
I think of the years…. all too few gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact…. that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people…. open and see.

Not a cranky old man.
Look closer….see….ME!!