Latin: /'vɒks pɒpjʉliː/ VOICE OF THE PEOPLE

It's Winter and we're Migrating

Exciting web developments are allowing us to migrate to an independent page of the school website within the month.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

"Education vs Uniform" by Sasha Tinelli

Does it really matter what colour socks you are wearing when learning the chemical properties of phosphorus?

Many believe that it makes no difference what you are wearing when you learn something.
In many schools today it is compulsory to wear a certain uniform or if the uniform is not worn correctly the student is in some way prosecuted. But school uniforms also create the very opportunity for such prosecution: a tie and button shirt -students aren't very comfortable and decide to make themselves comfortable, but this is when the trouble starts.

Teachers believe that it is disrespectful for students to dress in their own style. Students, although, feel more comfortable learning in their own clothing. Is a uniform not then a way to make money and simply publicise the "neat" student who represents the school?

Others, however, argue that without a uniform learners are uncontrollable and too relaxed -which is not what school is about. School is about learning and unformity and responsibility.

Whether students are dressed the same, or in their own version of what is fashionable, teachers will still teach the same lessons with the same curriculum; so why does the information not sink in? Because, some say, a student dressed in a way that expresses their individuality will, as a result, act out disrespectfully. If this is true then wearing a uniform is a better policy for a school.
But surely a line should be drawn at the details: handing out detention to students for not wearing a belt or the right socks when the rest of their uniform is correct may be taking it too far. Does a different belt or a more comfortable pair of socks spell loss of control? And of whose?

"Vegetarians vs Meat-etarians" by Lara Schulte

Are you vegetarian or are you a meat eater? Are you one of these for a reason, or just because it's part of your everyday life to either eat a scrumptious, juicy piece of meat or to eat a veggie burger? Are you wondering what the right choice is?

Personally, I strongly feel that being a vegetarian is a good thing. I am sure you didn't know that for every kilogram of meat, 4 000 litres of water was used? -Another thing we should consider to save more of -water. But that is slightly off topic.

Being a vegetarian is difficult though, especially in a country like South Africa. People here eat meat for breakfast, lunch, dinner and even in between as a snack. South Africans eat biltong like it's part of their recommended daily protein allowance. Eating meat is like brushing your teeth; something you do without even thinking about it. But do they think about that cow that has been killed just to be put into one of those little Woolworths packets and consumed at break time by some child in some school in some place in South Africa?
But I'm not saying it's a bad thing to eat meat. On the contrary, actually.

Meat is the main source of protein for the human body. It is healthy and is needed in the daily diet of the average person. But, is it needed in such high quantities? Is it possible to eat meat but to eat only the necessary amount?
Of course it is. And so our simple conclusion is: eat less meat.

"Rhinos endangered because of Chinese medicine" by Lara Schulte

There are only eight specimens of the Northern White Rhino left on the earth. The rest have died out, they will never be seen again by man. But maybe that is for the best...

Human = Greed. An equation that has been proven correct by humanity itself. Men kill these poor creatures with nothing else in mind but money. Rhinos get killed for their horns, whereas other animals get killed for their skin. The population of big animals in South Africa has dropped by 59 % since 1970. You know who's responsible for that.

Poachers kill for the meat as well. So basically, animals' lives are being taken and some
animal species are almost extinct because we like the taste of their flesh? I know I may be simplifying the equation here but it is, after all, the truth.

The value of rhino horns lies in China. The rhino horn is ground to make medicine to cure fevers and pain. Surely a different type of medicine can be used, with scientific research advancing by the second in the world we live in today?

Once again mankind is proving itself greedy. The poor creatures are dying out and still man is killing to make some kind of "medicine" to "cure" an ailment that is not even fatal.

"Something Special" by Alexis Wellman

Breaths teaken;
steps made;
trust earned.
Little things that mark the passing of time.
Time only desired to be spent with you.
Hearts torn when separated;
hearts mending with a new day and the promise of sight.
Little things that mark the beginning of love.

Love only desired to be freed for you.
Connections made;
glances exchanged;
whispers under our breath.
Little things that mark secrets being shared,
Secrets I trust you to keep.
Time, desired, beginning, love, trust and keep.
The little things that mark something special.

Want to find out more about free-verse poetry?

Friday, September 10, 2010

"Moonless" by Simone Storey

I sit alone under the sky,
My soul echoes my heart's cry.

Footprints lead nowhere in the sand,
Cold reaches out its opening hand.

I accept and filled with chill,
I shiver now, numb with thrill.

The night too long, I canot hope
I wonder, how will I cope?

The beach is empty, no smile of joy,
Only dark is left - ready to destroy.

The waves still crash and thrash and beat,
Against me now, as I drown in defeat.

Brave lights shine far, far away,
Meek stars glitter - too scared to play.

Time walk away, leaving me behind,
Who knew Time to be so unkind?

I refuse to have my soul bought,
Bug gasp with breath so short.

For a single moment there is no light,
I sit alone on this moonless night.

"The Feather" by Simone Storey

When the feather breathes,
The whole world sighs,
When the feather floats,
The heavens rise.

When human sees the feather,
The battle has been won,
When love sees the feather,
A friendship has begun.

When hope sees the feather,
There is a chance to seize,
When I see the feather,
It is carried by the breeze.

"In Solemn's Bed" by Michael Goldsmid

Time slows, and with each fading tick
I wonder at what might have been
The glinting-gold tapestry has been woven,
And freed men have breathed
While the ground slithers black and a sundried youth
Bathe in a fettered silver dream

An unsmoothed curtain of heaving, rolling red
Clouds my broken vision and wets my bed.
The heart of time and breath is in me,
The cold of summer sun and falling hell
Are coming undone

I've spent my life in quiet limbo,
In unfound promise and glittering regret,
Days have past, detached and loosened from myself,
From that on which my heart was set

In custardy and sun-filled youth
I dreamed of being great and true and wise,
Of an ideal that I have failed
Free me, find me, fetch me, feed me, fail me
A blood-red fruit has fallen from its tree.

Have I spent a single moment drinking in life's honeyed milk?
Has meaning filled me, or covered my tracks?
Or should I thank you for what was?
As I sit in Solemn's bed and inhale a stale, quiet dread.
I think of a life well lived, well fed
If I should stand on the threshold of eternal rest,
And be invited in,
I might hope that a life's time was used closely,

And that I do not stand alone and think
Without flaxen life's evanescent ink.

"The Last Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy" by Sarah de Villiers


Autumn's glory had flickered and faded,
Spring had blossomed the delights she offered,
And Summer had her rays worn weary and dim.
Now the emptiness of Winter began to consume all that remained.

A fleck of light and the scent of glee,
One note hung loosely in the air.
A twirl, a leap, a flash of life.
A twinkling laugh and glittering eyes.
Paused, the forest listened to the memory.

A dew drop shivered and a petal froze
As the bitter breeze stalked the sounds of joy.
A tender, tip-toed dance of grace
In a dress of Dawn's splendour
Had the sinister cold creeping
Towards the heart of the woods.

Her swan-like arms and blissful soul
Celebrated the icy day,
With a swirl and a song,
A smile and a skip.
But the cold it did her seek.

And beneath that empty washed-out sky,
Beside the dying rose,
A Sugarplum Fairy her last dance did love,
Before the cold it did her find.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

"It was a pleasure to burn" by Alexander Schwalb

"It was a pleasure to burn," said Amelia van Delizor to the grim reaper. "No, honestly. When they lit the fire I had pure delight. Even if they didn't tie me up, I still wouldn't have tried to escape." Grim just look at her and had a look in the cavity where his eyes should be that said, "Oh no, not another crazy one."

They were on a small boat on the River Styx. It was night, but there were no stars in the sky.
The light from Grim's lantern didn't travel far in the thick mist. Grim started speaking. You could see his jaw bones moving, but his deep voice was coming from all around. It make faint ripples in the flat, dreary water around the boat. He said to Amelia, "It's a long trip to... you know where you are going. Tell me about your life story."

"My mom died giving birth to me in 1818 in England. It was probably then when I developed my unique syndrome. Ever since I could remember, I loved getting hurt. My father was one of the leading biologists in that time. He sad there were two connections in my brain that crossed and therefore I perceived pain as pleasure.

When I was eleven, my father never returned from the woods after hunting. The street was my new home. I would have gone hungry for weeks. I could only drink muddy water from the puddles. The sky was my roof, but it had some leaking problems. I was a vagabond at the bottom of the chain of being. Most would have hated my life, but I loved it. It was my
paradise to be freezing at night and being so hungry it hurt. I loved everything from the rashes and sores to the rat bites and infections.

After a few years I unfortunately became used to the pain, and I had to find new ways to hurt myself. I would usually run into walls at full pace or jump off of houses. I would damage other people's property so that they would hurt me. Everyone knew me by my surname, Van Delizor. It became a new term, that if someone damanged someone else's goods, you would that they vandalize.

People came from far and away to see me hurt myself. When the king heard of me, he hired me to entertain him. Those were the best years of my life, because in the castle, they had torture machines. The king offered me my own royal chamber, but I chose to sleep outside. Sadly, there were no rats near the castle.

The archbishop did not like me, so he convinced the king to send me back to live with the peasants. It wasn't the same without the torture devices, so things went bad. I started stealing pitchforks to stab myself. I drank poison every night. I ate my own flesh!
By now, people had grown tired of me. They accused me of being a witch.

Then came the happiest few minutes of my life -my death. I was publically burned. It is obvious that if one's ultimate pleasure is pain, then one's happiest moment in life is death. That day, the last Van Delizor died."

In the distance, Amelia saw the shore at the end of the River Styx. The small boat stopped in the sand. There were two inter-dimensional doors. The Grim Reaper said, "All witches go through the left door, so will you. I am sorry. You seem so friendly, but it's not my decision to make." Amelia replied, "Don't be sorry, I am going to love this!"

You may wish to read more about women like Amelia who were accused of witchcraft in Salem in 1692 at http://www.eyewitnesstohistory.com/salem.htm

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

"The Meaning of Life" by Daniel Baker

The meaning of life lies unto ourselves
With limitless bound'ries and timeless walls;
I care not for I understand myself:
The meaning of life never fails, nor falls.
Maybe it will stop and wait for a few,
Trust me, it's not waiting for you -but for:
Those who play their cards right, bring luck to view,
Life is a journey with its own dancefloor.
Whene'er I live and love, or love and die,
And trust the future to set all things fair,
Open my mind to the cornerless sky,
To find my inner self, I truly dare.
To live is to love, to love is to gain;
And I also, I shall be back again.

"What I Fear" by Sonya Linkov

Boys should not be touched. No, should not be brushed against. Every extra kilogram; every twinge of nausea must be investigated. Menstruation days must be crossed off with joyous red ink. My greatest fear creeps from within, siphoning blood and stretching tissues and enslaving the body.


I suffer from chronic stomach pains, with a nervous habit of clutching my stomach as I walk, and a day without nausea is inconceivable. Dr Hosking put it down to anxiety, folded his hands together and said that, unfortunately, there is not much he can do for me. But I know that it is a warning, or a premonition. The hollow teardrop-shaped shrine within me is protesting, punishing me and punishing the world which created it.

Young girls are taught to fear the consequences: the parents' rage; the lost childhood and education; the slow trickling away of society. Yet worse than the tears and the closed future and the judgment, I fear the thing itself: wrapping my body around itself, then emerging in a scarlet flood with blinking eyelashes like whips, taking in the world and plotting how to rule it.

On the beach, in the supermarket, on the school grounds even, I scan every passing girl's or woman's stomach with wide eyes. Should I see one straining against clothes, the initial desperate urge to find a restroom is replaced by curiosity about the woman. Furtively, like a smitten boy, I peer at her face. Usually serence as a marble Madonna-to-be; never hateful. I lower my eyes in guilt. As she moves on, my eyes stray upwards again, and I peel away the cradle of membranes, blood and amniotic fluid.

A dumb swimmer, neatly folded like a picture in the midwifery textbook. Gilled like a fish and beaked like a bird. A little heart and a little brain like red cherries in a warm, bloody jelly. A blameless criminal, hung on a rope that can resurrect or strangle. An alien. A monster...

Babies. Everywhere I look; babies in prams, babies on television, babies on the tongues of women as they balance their teacups and slices of cake... I wonder, do a woman's hopes and dreams, her drive for autonomy, her power - in short, everything that separates her from an egg-laying hen - blow away like paper birds at that first cry?

Could I end a life? That is the question that looms out of the deep. Plastic dolls in sterile buckets. The grime-coated inside of a shack, and a woman with a coat-hanger. Cord-strangled ditch-delivereds. How much can the nervous systems stretching their feathery fingers through the little body feel? And yet, is it not better to die innocent than to live the life of a timid forest creature amongst refuse bags, fight crows for another bread crust, run as Mother hurls a punch or a knife...? Better I will not be able to offer.

I think about childbirth. The cold steel torture tale, my belly obscuring view; the doctors shouting inanities whilst judging; hating. All this time, the pain, the ocean of pain; screaming; my alien stomach hanging marble-heavy around my head, and then once every drop of strength has been wrung out of me as though I am a scrap of washing, the screaming of another voice...

The vision fades in oily slicks of nausea as I imagine the baby, plump and smiling, in a pram sprigged with ribbons. First tentative steps; every gurgle a mispronounced first word.

The love sticks in my throat, and I turn away.

"To a boy raped at Abu Ghraib Prison" by Sonya Linkov

They pinned your nerves out on the screen
Curled you in formaldehyde, small singularity
Bound you with sinews, pulled ends in a bow
And sold and re-sold you, gift and discardment,

To us at half-price with the evening bulletin.
Glued together; propped up; not quite human.
One ambidextrous hand, or rather a paper bag
Over a face more interesting to this sideshow.

Should we mourn you? The advent of disgust
Tainted such thoughts, besides it wasn't our duty.
Yet somehow, the accusation when it caught us
Had to scream, because our heads were bowed.

How could we dare to disregard the women? You
Became a small passing, smothered in suffering.
The burqas soared like terrible birds as the sun
Forgot you, and a fence imprisoned the wind

And needles pierced our lips to silence. Unlike you
-Apologies, the women - we had never learnt
The language of rape. And still we chose to stay
At this funeral, this circus, this ever causeless rally.

We know rapes are undemanding. They refuse
Toys, obey a skilled keeper, propagate so easily.
Have few qualms on diet. Mouths necklaced
With saliva, they roar like African cats: Meat!

One chanced to find you, beneath that bloody sun...
We swarmed; we lapped your cloud of shame,
We thought a virgin's blood, the purest of the pure
Once spilled, could heall all ills. So why did yours

Have such a bitter taste? Had it been sullied by
The rust upon the scale we chose to weigh it on?
Your frailty on one side, the women on the other:
The only way we knew. Perhaps, it would be best

To let your blood-wings fly you to the women.
They would cradle your teardrop-heavy head
And stroke it through that egocentric spasm when
Amidst human dust and city shards, you dared

To pray for a shroud.

"Over the Edge" by Emma Tough

Unlike most teenagers I was not interested in my image or status. I did not care for gadgets or accessories. Relationships, as well as friendships, were beyond me. There was only one thing that mattered in life and that was flying.

I would wake up early every Saturday morning and make my way to the bumpy farm runway. Billy, the old manager, would take me up and we would circle until we reached a thousand feet. Billy would then press the releae button, the door would shoot open, I would count slowly to five, take a deep breath and then jump.

There is nothing like the feeling of falling at terminal velocity, knowing that the parachute might not open but not caring. All you can see through blurry, watery eyes is the earth moving slowly towards you. The wind rushes past your ears, drumming out all thought. My body was pummelled and moulded by just the sheer force of the air. Nothing and no one mattered in that moment, except me.

After a matter of seconds I would pull the parachute and make my slow decent onto the field. Those last few minutes hanging in the air under a great cloud of silk were always filled with excitement and disbelief at what I had just experienced.

There is nothing in the world as freeing and uplifting as stepping out of your box and over the edge.

"Media at War" by Nicolai Haussamer

When nations are at war, we turn to the media to give us, what we believe, is a truthful and unbiased account of the events taking place in the world. Without the internet, television, newspapers, magazines, radios and countless other forms of media, we would be somewhat lost in confusion and ignorance of that which happens around us. However, sometimes what we are told to accept as the truth or adopt as the right perspective is cleverly manipulated to indoctrinate certain beliefs, not shared by the general public and potentially detrimental to a nation at war, and so the clash between the freedom of expression and various other rights and freedoms enter the fray.

When we talk about war, we are discussing conflict. Not an argument or a debate; war means bloodshed. It determines who lives and who dies. During war a constant threat exists towards the common man on the street and the welfare of a country as a whole on a much larger scale. One issue which has become prevalent in the world is the censorship of the media during times of war, id est a government's restriction of certain articles, photographs or broadcasts which may be made public. The word "restriction" immediately aggravates human rights activists and other liberals who believe that, given any set of circumstances, freedoms should not and can never be forfeited. While their argument may remain valid this is, however, only one side of the argument.

In the context of South Africa, which is not presently at war (on any international level anyway - fueds between political parties are a different matter), it is relatively easy to conclude which arguments would arise, should the media be censored by government during a war. As previously mentioned, there is the view of the rights activist, or more realistically, the freedom activist. After all, the only problem which these members of the public can advocate against is the restriction of the freedom of expression, nothing else. Section 16 in Chapter 2 of the Constitution of South Africa states that, "everyone has the right to freedom of expression, which includes freedom of the press and other media; freedom to receive or impart information or ideas; freedom of artistic creativity; and academic freedom and freedom of scientific research." From this is seems only logical that the media should have the freedom to do as they wish and publish whatever they see fit.

Yet the fact that this is only a freedom is pivotal in the argument for media censorship. Before this argument can be fully understood, a clear distinction has to be made between rights and freedoms. While there is a rather fine line between the two, there is a fundamental difference. Rights are something which all people in South Africa have, irrespective of nationality, race, gender or even legal status. A freedom, on the other hand, is the power to act without imposed restraints as one wants, but, importantly, is subject to limitations or complete removal. To clarify: everyone has the right not to be subjected to slavery or forced labour, meaning that, given any condition, nobody in our country may be forced into labour intensive tasks if it is not their will. Everybody also has the freedom of trade, occupation and profession, however, one cannot trade vast quantities of abalone acquired and possessed illegally. So it should be clear that rights have to remain in place, no matter what, while a freedom is subject to being limited, changed or removed.

What remains is the analysis of the argument from the side of the government, which is also valid given the above clarification of rights and freedoms. As explained in the introductory paragraph, war means conflict; conflict means life and death. Everyone has the right to life, and as a right, this supersedes the freedom of expression. In all likelihood, the question on the reader's mind is something along the lines of, "How do the two correlate?" It seems outlandish to make such a strong statement without sufficient evidence as to why it is important, so it needs to be expanded and explained by reference to:

"The whole is greater than the sum of its parts."

It is necessary to adopt the perspective of the common man while his country is at war. Suddenly, life has changed. Everything has become more difficult. Inflation and taxation has increased to accommodate for the excessive use of resources and an increased national defence budget, and this means a lower quality of life for the common man earning (hopefully) the same salary as before the conflict. This, naturally, causes the man to be upset or angry, but there is nothing he can really do about it. At the end of the day, when he reclines in front of the television, the anchorman with the optimistic smile reassures him that his country is one step closer to ending the conflict and making life better for all, and so the man can feel better with the reassurance that things will improve; life will get better, eventually.

If the media has full freedom during times of war, a potentially cataclysmic problem could arise. With the freedom of expression in full swing, those whose beliefs stand against the war and the government would have their views broadcasted, their horrific photographs displayed and attempts to turn the general public against the government printed. In turn, this lack of faith in the government's course of action would result in division within a nation. Gradually people would begin to listen to these arguments and reason that the government is acting, as they see it, incorrectly. During a conflict, there is only one way for the public to effectively convey such a belief to the powers that be: protest. Whether in the form of strike action or destructive marches through the streets, people would gather in mass and abandon their jobs, and thus their necessary contribution to society. From this, the government would be fighting on two fronts, making it a lot more difficult to sustain the welfare of their country. In fact, the potential exists for a nation to collapse from the inside, as various sectors shut down as a result of infuriated, dissatisfied protest. In its weakness, the country remains unable to defend itself and so it is attacked or invaded and countless civilian lives are lost.

Everybody has the right to life, and as such, it is the government's mandate to ensure, by any means necessary, that this right is upheld. From the previous analysis it is evident that in such a scenario, the government will have to protect the citizens of its nation from themselves. This may sound ludicrous, but the majority of people do not have the higher order understanding required to see that is of utmost importance not to have a massive movement against the government while their country is actively at war. Even if the reasons for the war are illegitimate, it is better for the nation to remain undivided.

The right to life supersedes the freedom of expression. Expression is a dangerous thing which threatens the lives of a nation's citizens when the nation is at war. While governments should always do their best to allow freedoms to be exercised, there are more important rights which have to be upheld and so perhaps it is, in fact, better to allow media censorship during war. Ideas which promot division, when set free in the public domain, lead to division. A country cannot uphold itself when divided. After all, "the whole is greater than the sum of its parts."

"We cannot afford to lose" by Hayden Searle

No one saw it coming. It came out of the unknown and killed millions. We were not prepared. We were not warned. We didn't stand a chance. Years later some stood up, took a stand, fought for survival. But it seemed to be too little too late. With millions already dead and dying, could it be stopped?

Does this sound like a preview to a new Terminator movie? Maybe another apocalyptic prediction?

Well it has happened. And it is here.

After many years of fighting in every way we know how, without a cure and thousands more dying, we have found other methods to eradicate the Red Plague. And it seems as if we may survive, even win. Drugs can only prolong the sufferer's life, but they cannot stand against death indefinitely. Prevention has become the best way to survive the onslaught, and it is working.

But we need to remember that we are fighting the disease, not the people who are suffering from it. In these times of crisis, compassion, love and honesty are just as necessary in fighting the disease head on, as the pursuit of a cure. There are few ways that one can contract the virus, and things such as hugs or sharing a cup or fork with HIV positive people will not get you infected. Treat sufferers of the disease with love and compassion - they are not the disease.

We will defeat HIV and AIDS, we can win this war.

"The Idea that Killed" by Michael Goldsmid

The Nature of Apocalyptic Religion and Modern Political Ideology

The religion and dominant philosophies that shaped the past predict the end of the world. Big statement. But, it essentially confirms a belief, or rather, an assumption that the overwhelming majority of Westerners still have. Nevertheless, one has to wonder what the end of the world means, and what parts of those philosophies predict it. Essentially, the end of the world means the end of the world as we know it, and the creation of utopia.

Think Christianity - The Book of Revelations predicts a new age, a time where Christ would rule utopia for a thousand years, and this would be attained by a purification, whereby all non-believers and wrong-doers (essentially all those who do not confirm to the ideals and values as set out by Christianity) would be left behind in the Rapture. All true believers are allowed to enjoy the kingdom of heaven, but being part of "the chosen few" seems to depend on whether you are the right denomination of Christian, (although no one really knows what that is yet). In essence the idea that we are interested in here is that, as it is implied, the modern world is plagued by evils and these things need to be destroyed, after which a new, better age will begin.

Modern 'political religions', whether extinct or not, share this view. Communism, Nazism and Jacobinism - these have all had a huge effect on the modern world. They had the notion that the world needed to be cleansed. But, what is the difference here? In Christianity, it was God who would bring about the end of the world, not man. This distinction, ironically, was brought about by something quite un-Christian - the enlightenment. As culture was detaching itself from the tenets and praxis of religion, and attempting to find itself in rational analysis and fact, it could not rid itself of this idea that had imprinted itself onto the collective consciousness of Europeans. And so - because, as Nietzsche famously stated, "God is Dead" - who would bring about the apocalypse, but man?

Revolutionary culture all began with the French Revolution. Here the evils in question were the very real ones created by a classist system and an ineffectual monarchy. The Reign of Terror, led by Robespierre and the Jacobins, led to the deaths of from 18 000 to 40 000 people. Violent repression was used to crush resistance to the government - after all, who was to stand in the way of utopia? Things needed to change, and if a perfect world was to be created, the exercise of violence was considered acceptable to ensure this. Thus, democracy was born.

Violent change has been inextricably associated with revolution. Another example is communism, where the perceived ills were inequality and modern culture. Twenty million died. Nazism held that the major cause of the problem was cultural inferiority - Jews chiefly. Eleven million died, six million of which were Jews. The Third Reich was to be ruled by a chosen few, and was meant to last for a thousand years - sound familiar?

As for perfect people, the story is similar. The Ubermensch (the super man) was a part of Nietzsche's philosophy - a goal towards which humanity should work. In National Socialism, it led to the idea of the Aryan Race, and attempts to create this super-race were made, attempts such as the SS (the idea was to build a force of physically and mentally superior Aryans representative of the Nazi ideology) and Nazi breeding programmes. Scientific racism and eugenics, although also spurred on by the European assumption of superiority upon finding supposedly inferior native inhabitants during the age of discovery, fit into the idea of the Ubermensch.

Even though they may have tried to escape the influence of religion, the idea that killed remained. All of these ideologies have several things in common. They all essentially believed that they could create utopia. A chosen few would be allowed to exist in this world. And most importantly, they held that the world needed to be rid of the "evils" that beset it. The problem, in Christianity, Communism and Nazism, is that they assume that these evils can be destroyed. It is always evil that stands in the way of transformation, and never the flaws inherent in human nature. It is this fact, that human nature doesn't change, that is the reason that all those ideologies in their purist form, failed. The exception being Christianity, because, in this case the instigator of change was God, not man.

However, the idea that killed, might also be called the idea that birthed. From both the wonderful and terrible results of its existence, we have important and workable concepts such as democracy, inalienable human rights and most importantly -freedom.