Follow Up 2

Slate, the online magazine, did me proud yesterday. Not only did it follow up on my post concerning Vladimir Nabokov's final, unpublished manuscript for Laura (whilst pointing me in the direction of an article written by the brilliant and enigmatic playwrite, Tom Stoppard), but it also discovered another piece of "Amateur High Art", as I coined two days ago. This video, Food Fight by Stefan Nadelman, is worth watching twice; it cleverly parodies modern warfare through the paradigm of food. Absurd, but entertaining

How to Disappear in Gatwick

After posting twice about high art on the web, I've become increasingly convinced that a sub-category needs to be invented. It only takes a few educated searches on YouTube to open a world of majesty. Yet, a video that I discovered a long time ago, I have since returned to and found that still only a few people have viewed this acute classic. It's a video made by Matthew Carrozo called How to Disappear in Gatwick. Although this may appeal to the British only audience, airports are universal concepts that (so I've consistently found) differ very little from each other. Even so, this is clearly an amateur filmmaker's piece, evidenced by the jittery use of a handheld camera, but what works so well on this video is the subtle nuances: the revolving advertisement that says 'carpe annum' stood next to the sleeping individual, to name but one. The soundtrack isn't too bad either... And so, I feel a new category, Amateur High Art, is needed to accommodate this new form of amateur expression. An elite few have long ago ditched the cliched, mobile phone, happy-slap videos of yesteryear and made their forward way with better and more praiseworthy pieces.

Evolution is not a Process of Chance

Darwinism has often been misinterpreted as a process of pure chance. This is a claim that Dawkins attempts to rubbish in the third chapter of his (so far) excellent book, Climbing Mount Improbable. Indeed, the respected researcher, Sir Fred Hoyle, coined the allusion of a tornado sweeping through a junkyard when referring to the chance of Darwinism. That human elements such as the protein molecule (the eye or heart, by implication), he suggested, is about as likely as a hurricane having the luck to put together a Boeing 747 when whirling through a junkyard. Obviously, Dawkins displays the mis-assumption, misinterpretation, and ignorance inferred by this comment. However, let's pick up this metaphor and run with it. Even if Darwinism was a process of luck or chance, given the unrestrained confides of Time: infinite time, this could, theoretically happen in a universe (and, coincidentally, this has been discussed repeatedly on my friend's blog: Exchange). Yet that plainly is not what evolution implies; evolution explains the results we find around us today by breaking it down into smaller sections. Rather than leaping to a singular definite, Darwin outlines the steps that have been taken over countless millennia to achieve this 'intermediary' stage we find ourselves in today. So, instead of sweeping together the complete Boeing 747, perhaps the hurricane initially swept together a crude row of chairs that, over many years, refined itself through the process of selection into a straight row of comfortable chairs. Imagine, if you can, this system of refinement repeated again and again over millions of years with innumerable intermediary stages and failed attempts along the way. Let us not forget that evolution does not confine itself merely to the animal kingdom; it is the governing body of our entire array of microscopic particles and intermingling galaxies. This is the subject of my former-professor’s work, Survival through Evolution. We witness the gradual mutations and evolution of Chlorophyll pigments in plant life, for example, whilst simultaneously marveling at our aging universe - the death of stars, forming heavier elements from the subsequently spewed debris. Our entire ecology and cosmos is evolving; the sooner we can grasp this concept as a people, the sooner we can collectively prosper from the wonders of modern science.

Good

This has nothing to do with abuse scandals, this represents a step forward in the implementation of logic above a sacrifice of reason. Well done Ireland.

The Origin of Species

On a tight, student budget I find myself in the library more often than I do at the book store. And so, when I felt as though I should go on a more exploratory look into Richard Dawkins' back-catalogue, I popped down into the Science and Engineering library to collect a couple of my requested texts. In doing so, I thought it best to start at the very basic beginnings of modern biology - Darwin's Origin of Species. I wasn't surprised to find that Darwin employs a very specific, specialised lexis when discussing his topic, and he devotes many of his thematic arguments to the rodents of British society: the rat and the pigeon. Yet amidst the somewhat dated and elevated assertions lies a fundamental explanation of the beginnings of every known, animal characteristic. Obviously, most of the questions surmised throughout the text have been answered by more recent research, but even so, simple questions I had previously not thought of were included. Not only were we given a very reasonable and modern explanation for the origins of anomalies like the complexities of the eye, but also explanations for the origins of the Basking Shark's interior mouth, and the human mammary glands - questions I had not previously thought to ask. So, for a text which I assumed would raise more questions than it answers, I am suitably impressed. What's more, Darwin notes that individual mutations are not necessarily beneficial to the variant; a snail, for instance, is as genetically evolved as a human. Through use, or disuse, species develop characteristics that are then passed on to subsequent generations. The ostrich cannot fly, for example, and the flying squirrel has developed thin membranes used to glide through the air. Even on a local scale, I have often noted that swimmers have larger hands than their peers - is this because are hands are repeatedly in use through swimming, or have we become high level swimmers due to our larger hands? You may say the latter, but I would suggest a combination of both. And therefore, can we conclude that, through use or disuse, we alter our genetic code that we pass on to subsequent generations? This is a topic I find fascinating. I will, undoubtedly, keep you informed as to the progress of my biological quest.

Opinion on Opinion

One of my fellow student-athletes here at the university has landed himself in trouble after claiming in a survey (in a survey!) that "Freud's theories are crap". Now, he wouldn't be the first 'philosopher' to say so, and nor is this necessarily an indefensible position. The reason, then, that he is in trouble is because he has "offended" his professor, some doddery old woman, who, presumably, has dedicated her life to much of the Freudian teachings. Personally, I have not studied Freud, or even picked up The Future of an Illusion, but I would suppose that the guy who said this had at least a basic understanding of Freudian psychology. As a principle, I would suggest not to say anything about something of which you know nothing about, but this is not applicable here. Even if he did know or comprehend nothing of Freud's psycho-analytics, this does not purport to the lame grievances of his professor. As I have commented in my previous post on anti-religious offensiveness, it is often the frailty of one's situation that exacerbates the propensity to take offence. Indeed, if I were to assert to a Muslim, concerning the reproduction of Allah's will through the illiterate businessman, Mohammad, that I believe it never happened, he might point his finger to the sky and say, "Aha! You have just offended a billion Muslims!" - as if this supposed offence I have caused will change my opinion or, perhaps, withhold me from repeating it. And so it appears, I even have an opinion on opinion.

Chinese Hip-Hop

In no way am I surprised by this article; Chinese hip-hop simply wouldn't work. Why did they ever think it would after Chinese rock and pop failed so fabulously? The answer is the 2008 Olympics. As my friend points out, there's a list of things going very badly wrong at the moment for the Chinese Olympic organisers. But what struck me most about this article was the assertion that "Chinese hip-hop has so far failed to catch on [...] due partly to strict censorship - lyrics are vetted, so the usual staples of violence, drugs and guns are out". What cultural clime are we living in where people listen to music based on it's debauched content?

Brideshead Revisited

For my final piece of A Level coursework I wrote a lengthy and in-depth essay into Evelyn Waugh's best work, Brideshead Revisited (behind the also brilliant, Decline and Fall) entitled: How does Evelyn Waugh’s Brideshead Revisited reflect the changes in British society between the wars? If you're interested, the .pdf file is available online here. So when news of a new British film made in homage to the book appeared on my screen I sat up and took note. Some of my older readers may recall the BBC miniseries aired in 1981 based on the novel, with picturesque scenes of Oxford colleges, aristocracy, and lush interior sets. It was a series I watched as research for my essay, but I found myself entranced in the quirky charms of Sebastien and his teddy bear, Aloysius. And who could forget Jeremy Irons' convincing performance as our protagonist, Charles Ryder, the man torn between his familial obligations, his relationship with Sebastien, his love for Julia, and his increasingly self-destructive desires. All of this, as it stands, leaves me slightly pessimistic in light of the upcoming production. But nevertheless, it's something I'll look forward to as a cinema-goer.

The Hollywood Issue

There are a few things wrong with Vanity Fair; this month’s 'Hollywood' edition comes equipped with floundering pictures of glamorous female starlets, giving them an excuse to fill hundreds of extra pages with consumer marketing. Also, does anyone else go green in the face with unabashed envy whilst flicking through the 'Fairground' section? But, for all its faults, it throws out some good, if not lengthy, articles - month in, month out. I've already commended the Arizona postal system, below, but it took a while for this month's release to arrive. It isn't a magazine you can read in an hour or so, but already it's thrown up some fine pieces on Hitchcock and films made about the Vietnam War. One of my favorite films of all time, Platoon, has been mentioned, and so too has The Deer Hunter. Can anyone recall, to date, a good film made about the Iraq war? Didn't think so. Perhaps someone should give filmmakers a tap on the shoulder and remind them to wait until the war is over. Only then will true reflection be possible. With regard to classic cinematography, I've just watched Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver, a Robert DeNiro classic. If one was to ask for a plot synopsis of the film, I'd be inclined to say something along the lines of: "DeNiro’s a taxi driver, but goes a little psychopathic", adding: "but in a moral way". However, that would do the film an injustice. Rather, it's simply compelling - torn between falling in love with DeNiro's character, Travis, and hating him for his many flaws. Perhaps that's why it's so successful. I appreciate that many of my readers will have seen this film, but allow me this little indulgence.

Higher Education

I'm not one who receives vast quantities of things in the mail - perhaps the Americans are good at filtering junk mail - but it seems recently I've received letters from "scholarly" organizations inviting me to join their "elite" society, reaping the rewards of their "many opportunities" in the process. All they ask is a $60-70 dollar admission fee and I have their name on my CV. When I was approached by the National Society for Collegiate Scholars I was sucked into their watermarked letter-headers and acceptance certificates, and so I forked out. Was it worth it? Not that I can see. I thought perhaps I had been selected for my obvious intellectual superiority, as is natural, but it turns out that a good percentage of students with better-than-average grades receive such letters. Yes, I may take advantage of their 8% discount at Barnes & Noble bookstores, but otherwise, I've played into the hands of the American public education machine. Here at the University of Arizona, as is similar with a number of other gargantuan campuses (40,000 students), new dormitories are being built left, right, and center. Not until after the construction has all-but finished do the bureaucrats consider the knock-on effects of such openings. The campus newspaper this week ran with the headline that 1000 parking spaces are to be lost on the already cluttered and expensive campus. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to see a reduction in car-dependence, but when profit manufacture comes before the well-being and convenience of students, someone has to start pointing fingers. According to numerous sources, this university accepts roughly 85% of undergraduate applications each year. Note that these applications come fully equipped with a financial guarantee statement - god forbid a student wouldn't be able to afford the ever-increasing costs of tuition, textbooks, housing, and now, parking. It seems as though anyone could get in as long as they have the money to pay for it. We're on a slippery slope out here in the States; higher education is being increasingly dominated by profit orientated administrators, along with hospitals and the legal system.

Enduring Love

Some of you may wonder why it is that I hadn't already read Ian McEwan's Enduring Love, especially as it is viewed as McEwan's finest, and a modern masterpiece. With this view, I stand concurrent and directly in awe of McEwan's brilliance. The plot follows similar lines to that of Saturday, an in-depth look into London's upper/middle class family life. Saturday's focal point features the climax of a series of frightening events, so too does Enduring Love. However, amidst the gripping narrative lies contextual statements; the dynamics of true love, religion versus science, emotional extremism, and the dangers of assumption. The protagonist fits nicely into the recent line of McEwan narrative voices, and unlike most other works of his, the antagonist is based on a case of de Clerambault's syndrome, or 'Erotomania': the delusional belief that someone is in love with them. Seeing as this antagonist displays a profoundly intimate love of god also, the undercurrent theme is clear to the attentive reader. What's more, the characters are brought together at the beginning of the narrative through a fatuously unique event that, some would suggest, is not simply a coincidence. Where can one draw the line between an omnipotent god and fate? Indeed, the title itself forms certain expectations. The obvious connection is that of the persistent antagonist, besotted with his love, disillusioned by signals, but simultaneously, our titular expectations immediately flare when understanding the relationship between our protagonist and his wife, Clarissa; can their love endure the strains of uncontrollable torment? I highly recommend this book. And so it surprised me to discover that a very British film based on the novel was made in 2006 starring Samantha Morton and Daniel Craig. Why I hadn't come across advertisements for this I do not know. And yet, the film was wonderful. Given that for the first half an hour I found myself horrified and actively shouting at the screen in discontent, the majority of the film was wholly engaging. Once I had shrugged off my expectations that lingered after reading the book, the plot is strikingly different but utterly successful. I was not surprised to see Ian McEwan credited as an assistant producer. Craig does magnificently, carrying his character kicking and screaming towards a very challenging roll, vexed by the swaying forces I've noted above. If you do nothing else this weekend, acquaint yourself with this sublime novel.

The Body Project

I am currently reading a very eloquent and sympathetic book by Joan Jacobs Brumberg, The Body Project. Particularly for her male readers, like myself, it illuminates some of the psychological boundaries that pubescent teenage girls overcome, which rationalizes the obsession teenagers have with their body. Indeed, a girl's body is their primary project. Much of Brumberg's research into women's history comes rightly from diaries; from which she very cleverly discovers: "in talking about their bodies, women still struggle to find a vocabulary that does not rely on Victorian euphemisms, medical nomenclature, or misogynistic slang." Observational simplicity that awakens our consciousness to a new horizon, I think you will agree. Incidentally, I've written a universally readable article on Social Conventions in the Understanding of the Construction of Gender. If you are interested, the .pdf file is located here.

Unbelievable

During my class on gender today we watched an aging video entitled Sex: Unknown, a highly provocative presentation on the supposed gender "abnormalities" of newborn infants, and the "normalizing" surgery that unquestionably succeeds these odd occasions. The centre-point of the piece focused on the progress of one such individual; Bruce (later, Brenda, later, David). His parents were pioneers in this gender normalizing technique, not out of premeditated choice, but because Bruce's genitalia had been all-but obliterated during a religious circumcision that went terribly wrong. I'd like to think of this incident as extremely uncommon, but lest we should forget that over 60% of newborn males are routinely circumcised in America every year to date. Whether this represents superstition triumphing over science is unclear, but we can assume that accidents will, and do, happen. The reason I bring this to your attention is because it calls into question one of the highly recognized arguments against the belief in intelligent design. For someone to believe that god created man in his own image and yet remain willing to take a sharp object to the genitals of a newborn child?! Some design then. This is a point raised masterfully by Christopher Hitchens when he debated Rabbi Schmuley Boteach on the issue of god's existence. Boteach enthused that circumcisions help reduce the risk of AIDS infection (which they do not - even if they did, this is a choice for adults rather than children - related article), and he preached about the brilliance, and certain holiness, of the human eye. Had Hicthens been any less of a gentleman he may have delicately pointed to those sparkling lenses that Boteach wore on his nasal (ironically a product of modern science and intelligence). Some design, eh? However, what worried me most about today's non-eventful proceedings was the report I read in this morning's campus newspaper. I quote: "Christian student ministries around campus are joining together in nonstop prayer for the next 38 days", hoping "to unify Christ over Arizona". What utter absurdity. I have already scheduled a trip at four o'clock in the morning of the thirtieth day to check whether the simple-minded imbecile isn't catching forty winks. And yet, although they wish to "unify Christ over Arizona, specifically the campus and students", they are happily inviting members of other religions to join them in prayer; fantastic seeing as most religions tend not to believe in the divinity of Christ. Perhaps they have begun to acknowledge their failing numbers, because, although religion is still very much a dominant force in many areas of the world, Western numbers seem to be dwindling at last. Quite literally: unbelievable.

Pimpin'

Balderdash and Piffle was a program broadcast on the BBC a couple of years ago that traced the origins of the quirky everyday words of our fabulously broad lexicon. I remember a distinctly fiery debate concerning the first use of the word 'kinky' in the sense we understand today. Anyway, Slate has an article about the history of the verb 'pimp': what it connotes as well as the modern uses - Pimp my Ride, pimpin', pimpmobile. This brings light to some of the other examples of our backward contemporary vocabulary. It's socially recognised that the verb, to pimp, is not surrounded by the most positive or friendly ideology, and this translates across to other verbs or adjectives used in childhood slang. Words like wicked, sick, or gay, have all shifted from the given dictionary definition. Those guys at Oxford have a hell of a time keeping up too. The reason I bring this up is because it reminds me of that classic Alan Partridge moment - incorporating one word into another. Examples of this would be: fan-bloody-tastic or su-fucking-perb. There is a Greek term for this amalgamation which I cant recall at present, but I'll leave you with the eternal words of Alan from Norfolk: "Abso-bloody-exactly".

15 Seconds

What could you do with fifteen seconds. If the day was longer than twenty-four hours; let's say twenty-four hours and fifteen seconds, what would you do with that little bit extra. Would you sleep an extra fifteen seconds a night? Share an intimate moment with your loved-one? Pour yourself a pint or open a bottle of wine? Make your bed every day? Floss your teeth? Chances are, you wouldn't notice a difference, but for the inhabitants of Sderot, a town outside the Gaza strip, they have just fifteen seconds to react to missile attacks from inside the strip. Without wishing to draw sympathy to the people of Sderot, just a simple thought experiment: could you react, from where you're sat now, to a place of safety. Looking about me now, I know I wouldn't manage it - I would be a slave to the whims of chance. Its a scary thought, but at least it's only that, a thought, as opposed to a reality.

Build Up That Wall

Regularly visiting Christopher Hitchens' website, Build Up That Wall, is something I've taken to doing recently, surrounding myself with those articles, video clips and books that I find myself feeling immense affinity. Last night, following my return, I sat down to enjoy Hitchens debate the Jewish Rabbi and prolific writer, Schmuley Boteach. Without wanting to goad, Hitchens came out on top. With his highly convincing argument now sharpened and tweaked to leave all in its wake, the audience was jeering the reproachable white noise of Boteach's later spoutings. Likewise, Hitchens proposes, again, a worthy cause for our attention in Slate this week when writing about Ayaan Hirsi Ali - the author of The Caged Virgin, concerning women and Islam, to which she received numerous viable death threats. So now is our chance to "forward the struggle against barbarism and intimidation".

Obesity

Contrary to popular belief, fat people can't help it, it is genetic. Observing the ongoings of my own family, this supposed revelation comes as no surprise. Obviously, there comes an element of human behavior: eating lots and exercising little clearly doesn't help, yet we can put to rest arguments suggesting discriminate taxes for overweight individuals (to an extent). Obesity is just another fluctuation within our evolutionary genetic code; some have it, but others don't. Pop down to your local swimming pool and you'll identify those people who could eat lots and put on weight, but also those who could eat lots and put on no weight. Here, I call for "fat-ism" to be totally eradicated.

Return

Thank you for your patience. Today I returned to my humble abode and recollected the many artifacts that comprise my current situation. So, surrounded by empty tea-cups and crumpled chocolate wrappers, sat with fore-arms bared to the cold solidity of my two-foot-by-three desk, I updated my pre-frontal lobes with swathes of miscellaneous information. For example, listening to Mark Kermode's slating of the new sci-fi film, Jumper, and recapping on Friday's edition of Newsnight Review. Conveniently, this week's armchair pundits praised the David Mamet play, Speed the Plow, currently showing in London with Kevin Spacey and Jeff Goldblum (ironically portraying the protagonists of a Hollywood-targeting satire). I intend to see the play when I return to Britain in April, but I'm still weary following my reading of Glengarry Glen Ross, a play I found tedious, ineffectual, irrelevant, profanatory and down-right boring. Perhaps my expectations will be greatly subverted, to my pleasure, of course. Whilst I was away, I should mention, a good friend of mine has started a new blog, updating, as I do, with snippet articles that concern those interested. Most recently, he comments on the inevitability of the afterlife from the point of view of an atheist. Genuinely fascinating. Coincidentally, he chose the exact same font and format as my own without ever seeing my blog. And so, doing the gentlemanly thing, I have given this page a well-earned makeover. More to come.

Gone fishin'

It brings me great sorrow to say goodbye to my avid readers. Alas, it is but for one week; a week that I'm sure most of you will spend watching reality TV or rereading your collection of Orwell as I recommended. However, my girlfriend arrives in Tucson, having made the arduous trip from Gatwick for the first time, to be exposed to the elementary wonders of the American life. Wish us luck. I love her very much. Before I go, (with all the irony I can humanly muster) thank god.

Feminism Again

Providing a running commentary on the daily news is a tried and tested method of blogging. Blogging about blogging is now becoming a subject for successful bloggers. One thing I've always tried to avoid is blogging about the personal - the everyday happenings of my immediate friends or family. Obviously, that provides entertaining reading for those directly involved, but not so much for those who come across this blog by chance. However, I feel ever-encouraged to blog about those things on my mind; express a simple thought-experiment, if you will. My first one concerns Hillary Clinton. I've always liked to think that people won't vote based on gender or race, and I was glad to find the very opposite result yesterday - in fact, no; people vote based on what they see, hear, agree with, and appreciate. Moreover, say you were a feminist, but didn't like Hillary Clinton for whatever reason (there are many). Are you then, as a feminist, embarrassed, ashamed, let down when Hillary Clinton is voted into office because you don't see her as a good representative of the educated, intelligent, female majority? Of course, the banal feminist would declare that any female president is a good president, but would a thinking-man's feminist actually deplore the idea of having a poor female president. I assume it depends on what side of the fence you sit - Amanda, it seems, can be ascribed to the former. On the topic of feminism, this newspiece caught my eye. Here's one for you (thought experiment #2): would the same outcome have occurred had the victim been female? In other words, if you reverse the genders here, would the man only get 15 moths in jail? Bearing in mind the supposed provocation was as follows: "her husband would physically abuse her, swear in front of their children, use pornography and often appear glassy-eyed and intoxicated, apparently on drink or drugs. The judge said there had been a "cumulative period of provocation" punctuated by bursts of violence and "unpleasant verbal threats"." Is that justification to kill someone?

Animal Farm

Do excuse me for not posting yesterday, I had a mental block and took the time away to reread Animal Farm. Those of you that have read it probably did so during your mid-teens at school where the condescending teacher conveniently skips the metaphor and analagy to past and, indeed, modern-day communism. The steady degeneration from what is seen as the ideal life, into squalor, poverty, distrust, and neglect does a fine job of disproving Marxism in just over 100 pages. The frightening thing is this: the book was published in 1945, well before the decline of the communists states established after the war. So then, a fine prediction from Orwell (someone who few would label a genius). Let us fathom it's only a matter fo time before a copy of this, alongside 1984, finds itself in North Korea.

Hillary Clinton

Joe Klein has a reliably enjoyable article in Time magazine this week to do with Hillary's downfall - her husband. Mr Clinton spent years publicly uniting the white and black communities of America. Indeed, he was the first president to talk non-condescendingly and openly to his black counterparts, which is why it comes as all the more shocking when he appears willing to counteract the whole thing by obtusely interfering in the South Carolina caucuses. Klein comes to the conclusion that when it comes to going up against Mr Motivator himself, Barack Obama, "One on one, [Hillary] simply seems stronger than Obama, but two on one, she seems weaker." I'm afraid it appears so. (A bikini-clad pornstar today declared: “She was actually the one running the country how many years ago? So, it’s like, she did it then, she can do it now.”) The family values of the Clinton family is not something we want to base this country's political system around. My good friend, Christopher Hitchens has been rather outspoken when it comes to denouncing the traits of Hillary Clinton, as exemplified in his numerous articles on Slate, particluarly 'The Case against Hillary Clinton'. A suibtable substitute to overrun the Hillaries and Obamas of this world has proved hard to find, but as Hitchens suggests in the UK Mirror, at least John McCain "commands a certain respect of the kind that professional image-builders can only dream of".

Honor Killings

As Sadiq Khan, the burgeoning Labour MP, discovers he's the potential object of a terrorist investigation, is this strange news-piece unconventionally highlighted by the statistics advocated by Abul Taher in The Sunday Times today:
"According to official figures, 10 to 12 women are murdered in Britain in honour killings each year, but the government has been warned by MPs that this is a serious underestimate. Police often record the deaths as cases of domestic violence, while other girls are driven to suicide or taken away to their family's country of origin and never seen again. Many Asian parents would rather resort to violence against their children than see their reputation tarnished by the perceived dishonour of allowing them to become "westernised"."
I hear millions of Britons shouting at their screens...

Hillary at the UofA

As Hillary Clinton gives her not-so rallying warcry just a few hundred yards from where I'm sat at the University of Arizona I've found this daily blog, known as 'The XX Factor' that provides a running, opinionated commentary on the whole election campaign. Also, I uncovered this story on the BBC - at once a saddening reminder of Islam's relentless sexism, yet simultaneously an uplifiting parrable of logic, reason and sense, overcoming religious oppression. Needless to say, this came at a cost, but sometimes we have to look out for good ol' number one. Incidentally, this website, ApostatesOfIslam, is dedicated to helping like-minded individuals leave Islam, if perhaps they feel shackled by the binds of family and friends, for example. They put you in touch with similar, agreeable people in your area.