A small chuckle the other morning, listening to the CBC news report that the Halton Catholic District School Board has yanked copies of Philip Pullman's splendid "His Dark Materials" trilogy off school library shelves. Parent or parents unknown had evidently raised concerns that the book is "apparently written by an atheist where the characters and text are anti-God, anti-Catholic and anti-religion."

Two other area school boards since then have initiated reviews of Pullman's books to determine whether they could possibly be having a corrupting influence on our poor innocent kids. What happens if they find for the prosecution? Does that mean all copies of the offending books will be burned? (Paging Dr. Bradbury...)

Meh.

The entertaining irony (in the Alanis Morissette sense) of this whole kerfuffle, for me, unfolds in three quick parts:

1. For reference: I'm Catholic. Not a terribly good one, perhaps. But Catholic by birth and upbringing. We still go to Mass most Sundays and the kids all attend the local left-footer's school.

2. In anticipation of the upcoming blockbuster movie, I'd remembered that Charlie (our 10 year old) had a copy of The Golden Compass knocking around somewhere. I borrowed it a few weeks ago. Loved it. Raved about it in my mini-review on Facebook and have been recommending it to friends ever since. I'm now reading the second volume. Also excellent.

3. On a brief trip to the U.S. earlier this week I happened to find myself in a giant Barnes & Noble bookstore. Wandering aimlessly, I arrived in the Religious Books section, at which point it struck me that we don't actually posess a copy of the Bible. I've always meant to read it one day - just, well because. They had a rather nice little gilt-edged, leather bound King James Version on sale for $9.95 so I snapped it up.

So, for the last week, I've been commuting with Philip Pullman's apparently anti-Christian "The Subtle Knife" nestling comfortably side-by-side in my briefcase next to The Bible.

I'm happy to report that they have not burst into flames, and nor have I sprouted horns and cloven hooves.

Also entertaining to note, amongst all the dust being kicked up, this lovely little snippet in the CBC story:

However, in the U.K., the Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams reviewed Pullman's trilogy for the Guardian newspaper in 2004.

Williams praised the books and recommended them to young readers.

"This extraordinary theatrical adventure sets a creative religious agenda in a way hard to parallel in recent literature and performance," he wrote.

A question, then: if we're to start pulling books out of Catholic school libraries because the authors happen to be atheists, what other works of literature should we be adding to the bonfire? No more George Bernard Shaw. No more Shelley. No more Douglas Adams...?

The venerable Ipsos research empire continues to pump out excellent, valuable, insightful research on a regular basis.

And then there's this - quite possibly the silliest piece of research fluff I've encountered in quite some time.

The announcement, titled "Social Networking Primed To Go Mobile," demonstrates an absolutely masterful grasp of the blindingly obvious, summed up in this wonderful line:

"Social Networkers are significantly more likely to own technology, consume more digital entertainment, and own more mobile devices."

No. Really?

Amongst other less-than-startling revelations is the fact that 59% of US "social networkers" have used a mobile device to browse the Internet for news or information, compared with only 39% of respondents who reported that they had never visited a social network site (which makes them "non-social networkers," I guess).

The definition of "social networkers" here is really quite stunningly loose. Based on data collected during Ipsos' annual "Face of the Web" survey in November and December, 2006:

Respondents were asked if they ever visited a social networking website (MySpace, Friendster, Cyworld, Mixi). Those who answered “yes” are classified as social networkers and are compared against those who answered “no.”

So now you know. The full report (all 30 pages!) is available for a mere $2,000 and will, apparently, provide subscribers with "an in-depth understanding of the key differences in behavior and digital media consumption between those who visit social networks, and those who do not."

On the basis of the summary provided in their news release, I think I can live without reading the other 29-odd pages. But if anyone happens to have a copy of the full thing and thinks I'm misrepresenting what is actually an insightful and useful block of research, I'd be happy to be corrected.

"Oft in the stilly night,
Ere slumber’s chain has bound me,
Fond mem’ry brings the light
Of other days around me"

Thomas Moore, 1815

This is an extraordinary time to be alive. Each day, there are yet more examples of just how extraordinary our world is - both big examples and small. It's particularly startling when a fantastic concept familiar from science fiction emerges in the news as a practical science fact.

According to this story in today's Telegraph, researchers at two universities in the UK have discovered that: "Light can be slowed down so that a beam of sunlight can travel at a leisurely stroll, be brought to a standstill, or even stored for later use in the form of a rainbow."

As soon as I came across this article, I thought: slow glass! They're talking about slow glass!

My Dad and brothers will know what I'm talking about, I'm sure. I can't remember the first time I read about slow glass - probably some time in the early 70s - but the idea has stayed with me all these years. Googling for the source, I found the complete text of Irish writer Bob Shaw's 1967 short story "Light of Other Days".

Reading it again just now, it's easy to see why the story has stayed with me all this time. It's a terrific piece of writing, woven around a powerful, evocative central idea.

"The most important effect, in the eyes of the average individual, was that light took a long time to pass through a sheet of slow glass. A new piece was always jet black because nothing had yet come through, but one could stand the glass beside, say, a woodland lake until the scene emerged, perhaps a year later. If the glass was then removed and installed in a dismal city flat, the flat would—for that year—appear to overlook the woodland lake."

The tensions and subtexts in this remarkable little story must have been completely wasted on me when I first read it. I can't have been much more than 11 or so when I found it in one of Dad's many books of collected sci-fi shorts, but I can easily see why it has stayed with me all these years. Very glad to have found it again now, prompted by that Telegraph piece.

OK, so the discovery reported in the Telegraph isn't really much like Shaw's idea of slow glass - but still worth a "Wow!"

We're still a couple of weeks away from the next full Third Tuesday session in Toronto, but in the meantime there's a special "nightcap" set up for tonight, November 7th, for any of you soshal meejah-types who might be around.

Renowned Silicon Valley PR blogger, Giovanni Rodriguez, is in town to speak at a Canadian Public Relations Society event tonight (courtesy of Martin Waxman's Palette PR).

Giovanni is one of the original instigators of the Third Thursday PR & marketing meet-up events; the inspiration and model for the Third Tuesday programs now running in Toronto, Ottawa and Vancouver.

Seems only natural to gather the Third Tuesday crowd to orbit around our primum mobile.

The CPRS event runs from 6-9pm. The informal Third Tuesday schmoozing will start at around 9, and keep going 'till the last people propping up the bar remember it's a school night.

Venue and RSVP details for tonight, and for all Third Tuesday events, here.