Here we are on the 27th and it is all over bar the shouting and the singing of the fat lady. All that overindulgence will be replaced with a yearning for something other than turkey, and as the mail comes back to life tomorrow, the bills will trickle in along with the notifications of the January sales. The shops will soon be full again, with people trying to exchange things that are too small, the wrong colour or just in utter bad taste. Within a day or two though, some will be bracing themselves for the last night of the year - a chance to wear silly clothes and to drink to ridiculous excess before making resolutions that are repeats of the previous year's, and then 2010 will begin the teenies in an optimistic way, short lived though that might be.
It is a scary thought that I have seen (just), seven decades so far and next week it will be eight. I can't say that any of them was remarkable, though the changes that have taken place have been incredible. In my lifetime virtually everything has changed and not all of it for the worse. I have lived through most of the history of pop music for example. I was born at a good time for that, being an incipient teen when the Beatles and the rest of those bands raised pop music into a wonderfully creative and original art form. Since then, the likes of Simon Cowell has managed to transform it into mass produced plastic pap, an artistic equivalent to Christmas cracker contents made in China. Pretty soon the people's Republic will be exporting our entertainment along with everything else that is cheap and nasty.
I have seen the rise in Information Technology from the first hand held calculators to the amazing if frustrating broadband internet connections that we now take for granted. Photography, access to music, you name it, has all been transformed by easy access for everyone, and now most people have digital cameras, iPods and mobile phones, none of which was even conceivable when I was a child. Now of course it is hard to find something to strive for. When everyone has everything they want, where do we go from there?
I was dragged up to believe that if you wanted something, you saved for it and debt was seen as unacceptable. Such training has a way of sticking and even now I hate owing anyone anything. I guess that I am fortunate that I have no debts but I have always tried to live within my means. Now people are encouraged to take on debt by the banks and credit card companies, to the extent that they are taking on new debts in order to pay off the ones they already have. It is no wonder that our economy is in such a bad state. Capitalism seems to have reached it's logical conclusion. Infinite growth is neither possible nor desirable.
Well there - probably my last rant of the year. I have been less than regular lately and must endeavour to be more organised with my life. Gosh that sounds like a resolution of the kind that I never make.
Sunday 27 December 2009
Wednesday 23 December 2009
Bah Humbug
It has been a few days since I wrote and not much has gone on that is worth commenting on. Though having said that, the climate summit in Copenhagen came to a predictable end with no-one really giving anything away and with all vested interests well protected. The rich nations, as well as China, pulled up the ladder and declared that we are ok Jack! What did anyone expect them to do?
Abdul Dinnerjacket has assured us all that Iran has no intention of building a nuclear trigger, despite evidence to the contrary, and we are supposed to believe that this man who openly declared a desire to erase Israel from the map, has peaceful and honourable intentions. What is honourable to some is clearly not understood by others. For some it is honourable to murder their wives and daughters in the name of honour, simply because they have accepted and adopted the customs of the country in which they have found themselves. Only recently was a young Muslim girl killed by her father to protect the honour of the family. How can anyone with a civilised bone in their body see any sense or justification for that?
It is no surprise that the middle eastern problem has not gone away. Can it ever? The two worlds are so far apart in so many ways that there seems little middle ground. Perhaps the solution would be to build a wall around the middle east and fill it with the surplus water from the melting of the ice caps.
On the home front the final run down towards the most silly day of the year has begun. Money has been spent, fridges and freezers are stuffed and blood alcohol levels are reaching saturation point. The TV is bursting with pap and ready to deliver the usual dreary mass of crap to millions of dispeptic sleepers and bored children. Here we will be cut off from the mainland for a whole day and even the Curry houses will close, not out of respect for the Christian festival but because there will be no takers; and so the unregistered and nameless thousands of employees can take a break from their less than minimum waged jobs, and be seen in the streets, no-one will care.
If you are reading this then i hope that you have a good holiday and, in the words of the late great Dave Allen, May your god go with you.
Abdul Dinnerjacket has assured us all that Iran has no intention of building a nuclear trigger, despite evidence to the contrary, and we are supposed to believe that this man who openly declared a desire to erase Israel from the map, has peaceful and honourable intentions. What is honourable to some is clearly not understood by others. For some it is honourable to murder their wives and daughters in the name of honour, simply because they have accepted and adopted the customs of the country in which they have found themselves. Only recently was a young Muslim girl killed by her father to protect the honour of the family. How can anyone with a civilised bone in their body see any sense or justification for that?
It is no surprise that the middle eastern problem has not gone away. Can it ever? The two worlds are so far apart in so many ways that there seems little middle ground. Perhaps the solution would be to build a wall around the middle east and fill it with the surplus water from the melting of the ice caps.
On the home front the final run down towards the most silly day of the year has begun. Money has been spent, fridges and freezers are stuffed and blood alcohol levels are reaching saturation point. The TV is bursting with pap and ready to deliver the usual dreary mass of crap to millions of dispeptic sleepers and bored children. Here we will be cut off from the mainland for a whole day and even the Curry houses will close, not out of respect for the Christian festival but because there will be no takers; and so the unregistered and nameless thousands of employees can take a break from their less than minimum waged jobs, and be seen in the streets, no-one will care.
If you are reading this then i hope that you have a good holiday and, in the words of the late great Dave Allen, May your god go with you.
Thursday 17 December 2009
Time passes - listen, time passes.
Coming from a dysfunctional family has its advantages, and my peculiar childhood prepared me for most of life's dissapointments. I learned very early in life to be self contained, knowing that the vast majority of people can only be relied upon to let you down. People say that I am a pessimist but I disagree. I prefer to think of myself as being a pragmatist or a realist. However none of that matters to anyone but myself and is not what I intended to write about. I was thinking about growing up with my overbearing father who, would never allow us to waste any time. If we were sitting around doing nothing, we were committing a sin, though that is a word he'd never use. We had to be occupied all of the time. Only he was allowed to fall asleep in front of the TV because only he was in need of resting his eyes. We were expected to be up early and actively doing something all of the day until sent to bed. I suppose it was a clever way of getting us out of the house because it worked.
Wasting time is a strange idea and means different things to different people. Many have a very powerful work ethic and unless they are redecorating the house for the nth time, or cleaning or filling in their time in a practical manner they are very uncomfortable. It is believed by some that kids today waste time sitting in front of computer games or TV, but what choice do they have? Freedom of children has been much curtailed by health and safety regulations as well as the threat of a paedophile on every corner, and so thanks to the media and paranoid parents, kids are kept off the streets and have to find ways of filling their days
Each of us can expect to experience a finite stretch of time and it is up to us how we use that time. It could be said that much of what we do is a waste of time. Cleaning the house, raking leaves, washing, ironing etc are all pretty thankless tasks, all of which need repeating over and over again and yet we still do them. A walk around the block achieves nothing and yet it can be pleasant.
I read a lot and if anything can be costrued as a waste of time it has to be reading novels. Filling our imaginations with other peoples fantasies achieves nothing at all and yet millions of people do it. In the eyes of others the time could be better spent, and perhaps it could but I don't care.
There comes a time in life when one has achieved everything that one is likely to. After that most of what we do is a pretty futile anyway and so whatever we do is self indulgent and of little value to anyone. Ironically, the less purpose one has the longer the days seem to be while the years seem to vanish like the last grain in the hourglass. Friends either pass away or pass on and we sit back on the timeline in anticipation of hitting the buffers.
My father spent his last years doing nothing. He'd sit in his chair, staring out of the window, read a book or vanish into his bedroom to drown himself is whisky and loud music probably ruing the life that he has misspent. He had never travelled of his own volition, never seen a live concert or visited an art gallery of the theatre. He's never driven a car or enjoyed the love and respect of his children or grandchildren. When I think that I am wasting time, and i do so a lot, I think of him and what he missed in his life, and as I approach the age when he died, and his father before him, I hope that at least some of my time has been well spent.
Wasting time is a strange idea and means different things to different people. Many have a very powerful work ethic and unless they are redecorating the house for the nth time, or cleaning or filling in their time in a practical manner they are very uncomfortable. It is believed by some that kids today waste time sitting in front of computer games or TV, but what choice do they have? Freedom of children has been much curtailed by health and safety regulations as well as the threat of a paedophile on every corner, and so thanks to the media and paranoid parents, kids are kept off the streets and have to find ways of filling their days
Each of us can expect to experience a finite stretch of time and it is up to us how we use that time. It could be said that much of what we do is a waste of time. Cleaning the house, raking leaves, washing, ironing etc are all pretty thankless tasks, all of which need repeating over and over again and yet we still do them. A walk around the block achieves nothing and yet it can be pleasant.
I read a lot and if anything can be costrued as a waste of time it has to be reading novels. Filling our imaginations with other peoples fantasies achieves nothing at all and yet millions of people do it. In the eyes of others the time could be better spent, and perhaps it could but I don't care.
There comes a time in life when one has achieved everything that one is likely to. After that most of what we do is a pretty futile anyway and so whatever we do is self indulgent and of little value to anyone. Ironically, the less purpose one has the longer the days seem to be while the years seem to vanish like the last grain in the hourglass. Friends either pass away or pass on and we sit back on the timeline in anticipation of hitting the buffers.
My father spent his last years doing nothing. He'd sit in his chair, staring out of the window, read a book or vanish into his bedroom to drown himself is whisky and loud music probably ruing the life that he has misspent. He had never travelled of his own volition, never seen a live concert or visited an art gallery of the theatre. He's never driven a car or enjoyed the love and respect of his children or grandchildren. When I think that I am wasting time, and i do so a lot, I think of him and what he missed in his life, and as I approach the age when he died, and his father before him, I hope that at least some of my time has been well spent.
Tuesday 15 December 2009
December days
Today is one of those days that never gets light. I loathe December more than any other month I think, though it does have one saving grace and that is the winter solstice - beyond that the days get longer again.
The lemmings are all out spending money that they haven't got on things that no-one needs, stocking larders to bursting point with food that will largely go to waste, and all of this for one day that has no meaning whatever for most of those that celebrate it.
There is an irony in that a very important conference of climate change is going on while houses, streets and shops are festooned with the tacky and tasteless light shows that have carbon footprints as big as a family car, while merely contributing light pollution to our already overlit streets. The same people that spend a whole year switching off lights wherever they go will be negating those actions with jolly fat santas in red suits flashing merry xmas to one and all.
Houses are already filling with paper and card as the christmas card barrage enters its final days. I suppose at least people who were thought dead put up their heads momentarily and get added once more to that inexorable list of those who we simply must send cards to.
Looking on the bright side - we have the coldest months yet to come and this year I got my cheque for heating allowance, so perhaps I can throw a few extra twigs onto the fire and wish you all a happy humbug!
The lemmings are all out spending money that they haven't got on things that no-one needs, stocking larders to bursting point with food that will largely go to waste, and all of this for one day that has no meaning whatever for most of those that celebrate it.
There is an irony in that a very important conference of climate change is going on while houses, streets and shops are festooned with the tacky and tasteless light shows that have carbon footprints as big as a family car, while merely contributing light pollution to our already overlit streets. The same people that spend a whole year switching off lights wherever they go will be negating those actions with jolly fat santas in red suits flashing merry xmas to one and all.
Houses are already filling with paper and card as the christmas card barrage enters its final days. I suppose at least people who were thought dead put up their heads momentarily and get added once more to that inexorable list of those who we simply must send cards to.
Looking on the bright side - we have the coldest months yet to come and this year I got my cheque for heating allowance, so perhaps I can throw a few extra twigs onto the fire and wish you all a happy humbug!
Tuesday 8 December 2009
Save the planet?
Well the Copenhagen summit is in progress and highly paid politicians and boffins will sit around in not very smoke filled rooms, pontification on the state of the environment. At the end of it I predict that there will be no concensus and the only step towards reducing greenhouse gases will be to increase the costs of energy.
There was a woman on TV last night saying that she had turned vegetarian in order to save the planet! Now while I am aware of the importance of flatulent cattle and their role in climate change, I cannot see how any of us can save the planet! It isn't the planet that is in danger, it is the human race that is, and not just through climate change.
One of the biggest producers of methane, possibly the greater of the greenhouse gases, are the termites and they have been around a lot longer than we have. Nobody talks about extermination of insects in order to save the planet.
It wouldn't surprise me if the whole global warming issue was merely a political tool. People are more easily led by the nose when they are scared. Oil and gas are dwindling resources and unless we cut down on their use there will be unprecedented crises in the future with the rich and powerful riding roughshod over the poorer nations in the fight for the last drops of the stuff. So scare people now, increase the prices to the consumers and people just might travel less and sit in cold houses through the winter. As always it will be the less well off that will suffer, the bankers and their like don't notice the prices of the energy that they use, while those at the base of the pecking order do. Even a small increase in prices makes a big difference to the less well off.
There can be no turning back. We are a world that runs on fuels that produce Carbon Dioxide. Efforts to utilize renewable energy are largely supressed by the oil industry, which in turn is governed by enormously wealthy individuals who wield the real power in the world today. If the fuel runs out then life as we know it Jim, will come to an end. If it doesn't then perhaps the planet will get warmer, maybe even considerably so. The worst that can happen to the planet is that it might just sterilise it's surface and start all over again.
There was a woman on TV last night saying that she had turned vegetarian in order to save the planet! Now while I am aware of the importance of flatulent cattle and their role in climate change, I cannot see how any of us can save the planet! It isn't the planet that is in danger, it is the human race that is, and not just through climate change.
One of the biggest producers of methane, possibly the greater of the greenhouse gases, are the termites and they have been around a lot longer than we have. Nobody talks about extermination of insects in order to save the planet.
It wouldn't surprise me if the whole global warming issue was merely a political tool. People are more easily led by the nose when they are scared. Oil and gas are dwindling resources and unless we cut down on their use there will be unprecedented crises in the future with the rich and powerful riding roughshod over the poorer nations in the fight for the last drops of the stuff. So scare people now, increase the prices to the consumers and people just might travel less and sit in cold houses through the winter. As always it will be the less well off that will suffer, the bankers and their like don't notice the prices of the energy that they use, while those at the base of the pecking order do. Even a small increase in prices makes a big difference to the less well off.
There can be no turning back. We are a world that runs on fuels that produce Carbon Dioxide. Efforts to utilize renewable energy are largely supressed by the oil industry, which in turn is governed by enormously wealthy individuals who wield the real power in the world today. If the fuel runs out then life as we know it Jim, will come to an end. If it doesn't then perhaps the planet will get warmer, maybe even considerably so. The worst that can happen to the planet is that it might just sterilise it's surface and start all over again.
Thursday 19 November 2009
Freedom of speech
Freedom of speech is a nonsense. It does not exist, even in the 21st century in the so called emancipated west where we pride ourselves on basic human rights. In these scribblings I think about what I say and am careful not to write things that might result in some religious headcase removing my genitals because I have offended his sensibilities.
Last night there was a football match between France and Ireland. The outcome of which was very meaningful in the world of football in all sorts ow ways, not least financially. France won the game through a deliberate foul that the referee and his linesmen failed to see or chose to ignore. The whole world saw the offence over and over again on action replays and now everyone knows that the offending player (note that I do not use his name) is a cheat.
Members of the Ireland team of course cannot call him a cheat or refer to the incompetence of the referee without risking huge fines or suspensions, the cheating side win through on the notion that you can do that as long as no-one notices. It would seem that calling someone a cheat is worse than cheating, and so the deliberate breaking of rules has become part of the game.
In Parliament one is not allowed to call someone who is economical with the truth, a liar. And so politicians lie their way through their careers unchallenged, protected by the lack of freedom of speech.
Of course there are some things that one can criticise freely without fear of retribution and some things that you cannot. Women are free to criticise men while the inverse is seen as sexism. You can discriminate in favour of women by for example limiting electoral candidacy to females only, but would it ever be conceivable to bar females from standing for a seat?
Worst of all though is the blanket protection given to certain religious groups, whose followers include terrorists and misogynistic leaders, routinely committing atrocities against their own people while openly condemning all those who disagree with them. To raise one's voice against these people has become very difficult without incurring the wrath of the law. We live in fear of the viper that lies within our bosom and are powerless to speak out.
France will go to the world cup finals and will take with them the knowledge that they got there unfairly. If that was me i would feel very guilty and probably withdraw. However i was brought up in a different world to the sorry one that we live in today.
Last night there was a football match between France and Ireland. The outcome of which was very meaningful in the world of football in all sorts ow ways, not least financially. France won the game through a deliberate foul that the referee and his linesmen failed to see or chose to ignore. The whole world saw the offence over and over again on action replays and now everyone knows that the offending player (note that I do not use his name) is a cheat.
Members of the Ireland team of course cannot call him a cheat or refer to the incompetence of the referee without risking huge fines or suspensions, the cheating side win through on the notion that you can do that as long as no-one notices. It would seem that calling someone a cheat is worse than cheating, and so the deliberate breaking of rules has become part of the game.
In Parliament one is not allowed to call someone who is economical with the truth, a liar. And so politicians lie their way through their careers unchallenged, protected by the lack of freedom of speech.
Of course there are some things that one can criticise freely without fear of retribution and some things that you cannot. Women are free to criticise men while the inverse is seen as sexism. You can discriminate in favour of women by for example limiting electoral candidacy to females only, but would it ever be conceivable to bar females from standing for a seat?
Worst of all though is the blanket protection given to certain religious groups, whose followers include terrorists and misogynistic leaders, routinely committing atrocities against their own people while openly condemning all those who disagree with them. To raise one's voice against these people has become very difficult without incurring the wrath of the law. We live in fear of the viper that lies within our bosom and are powerless to speak out.
France will go to the world cup finals and will take with them the knowledge that they got there unfairly. If that was me i would feel very guilty and probably withdraw. However i was brought up in a different world to the sorry one that we live in today.
Tuesday 17 November 2009
Conspiracy theory
Almost daily we hear someone or other bleating about the death of the music industry thanks to illegal downloading and the copying of recorded material. Sales of recorded music have plummeted and a song can reach number one in the charts but selling a few thousand copies.
I have always been a music fan and love to attend live concerts whenever I can, and am currently anticipating the 4Oth anniversary tour of Steeleye Span, complete with Maddie Prior. Having said that, I rarely buy music anymore, neither do I download it. I am becoming seriously disenchanted with the whole Pop industry and I for one hope that it dies a quick and painless death.
There was a time when to become a pop star, you needed either huge talent and some luck, or you needed a new and quirky idea and a lot of balls. Nowadays it seems that in order to sell a lot of records, performers need an image, a manager and an ability to look plastic and to fit into preset moulds that make you attractive to pre-adolescent girls. Boy and Girl bands spring up like weeds and die off just as quickly, always dozens more waiting to take their places.
Th "ECKS" factor is a very popular TV "Talent" show that is generating much controversy here at the moment. I mention it because it really does encapsulate all that is wrong with the world of music at the present time. For those of you who haven't seen it, vast numbers of hopefuls gradually get whittled down by a panel of judges, until a small handful are put through a series of trials and humiliations, each week one more being voted off the list, theoretically by the public. The panel of judges is of course led by the multi-millionaire who owns the show and he is accompanied by three other representatives of the "industry", none of whom seems to have a brain cell let alone a mind of their own. The weeks go by and the victims are led through various Karaoke moulds and in the end one will remain and will be given the strait jacket that leads them to become Mr or Mrs Plastic 2009. This year there is a large fly in the custard. A young duo who have the talent and the personalities of a pair of young labradors are storming along and could well win the contest. Neither of them can sing at all, but they look the part with their silly spiky hair and their utter lack of talent.
Each week, hard working singers with huge potential have been sent home while the talentless and highly irritating continue to garner support from the teenagers that are doing the voting and generating the Judge's retirement fund. Part of me suspects that there is a conspiracy going on and that the public is saying that enough is enough, but my cynical side is screaming out that this is just what people want - to see Pop Stars that are just like them - banal, ordinary and utterly dull.
I hope that these lads win, and as they accept their million pound contract, that the first thing they buy is a hammer so that they can drive in the last nails of the coffin. Maybe then, once this business is laid to rest, musicians will learn their trades in public performance and make their money for being talented and original and we can hear some real music once again.
I have always been a music fan and love to attend live concerts whenever I can, and am currently anticipating the 4Oth anniversary tour of Steeleye Span, complete with Maddie Prior. Having said that, I rarely buy music anymore, neither do I download it. I am becoming seriously disenchanted with the whole Pop industry and I for one hope that it dies a quick and painless death.
There was a time when to become a pop star, you needed either huge talent and some luck, or you needed a new and quirky idea and a lot of balls. Nowadays it seems that in order to sell a lot of records, performers need an image, a manager and an ability to look plastic and to fit into preset moulds that make you attractive to pre-adolescent girls. Boy and Girl bands spring up like weeds and die off just as quickly, always dozens more waiting to take their places.
Th "ECKS" factor is a very popular TV "Talent" show that is generating much controversy here at the moment. I mention it because it really does encapsulate all that is wrong with the world of music at the present time. For those of you who haven't seen it, vast numbers of hopefuls gradually get whittled down by a panel of judges, until a small handful are put through a series of trials and humiliations, each week one more being voted off the list, theoretically by the public. The panel of judges is of course led by the multi-millionaire who owns the show and he is accompanied by three other representatives of the "industry", none of whom seems to have a brain cell let alone a mind of their own. The weeks go by and the victims are led through various Karaoke moulds and in the end one will remain and will be given the strait jacket that leads them to become Mr or Mrs Plastic 2009. This year there is a large fly in the custard. A young duo who have the talent and the personalities of a pair of young labradors are storming along and could well win the contest. Neither of them can sing at all, but they look the part with their silly spiky hair and their utter lack of talent.
Each week, hard working singers with huge potential have been sent home while the talentless and highly irritating continue to garner support from the teenagers that are doing the voting and generating the Judge's retirement fund. Part of me suspects that there is a conspiracy going on and that the public is saying that enough is enough, but my cynical side is screaming out that this is just what people want - to see Pop Stars that are just like them - banal, ordinary and utterly dull.
I hope that these lads win, and as they accept their million pound contract, that the first thing they buy is a hammer so that they can drive in the last nails of the coffin. Maybe then, once this business is laid to rest, musicians will learn their trades in public performance and make their money for being talented and original and we can hear some real music once again.
Monday 16 November 2009
A new week
It has been a while since I felt even remotely like writing and i know that if I don't push myself to do so that I will stop doing it altogether. I blame it on having a cold of course; one of the fringe benefits of having people to stay for a weekend. I think that my extended isolation tends to lower the efficacy of my immune system and so whenever i am exposed to viruses they see me as virgin territory and move in with relish. I should have the flu jab and the one for swine flu but I probably won't. That would mean going to the medical centre and queueing up with lots of sick people and having someone stick a needle into me. I confess that i am scared of injections - a real hangup from my childhood and one of so many.
It would seem that the government is keen to make nursing an all graduate profession, as they did with teachers a number of years back. The aim is to ensure that the quality of nursing increases and that patients will receive a better deal when they go to hospitals. I am not sure that it will help. What it might help them to do is to fill in paperwork more accurately and free up time for them to generate more.
A spell in hospital was never much fun but it has become a challenge to anyone these days. Speaking from the point of view of a fairly frequent user, I have to say that the quality of nursing care has declined massively in recent years. Side wards mean that patients can lie unattended for long periods of time without being checked on by anyone, and we frequently hear of patients who have quietly bled to death in a hospital bed. I experienced copious bleeding after my last operation and when i struggled out of bed to report it to the two nurses sitting behind a desk, all they did was to change my pillow while i was in the toilet. Nobody even looked to see where the blood was coming from - the paperwork was more important.
I am sure that there are plenty of good nurses who know how to care for patients and many who are not good at paperwork. We should be employing more of the former and allowing them to get on with the job that their profession was meant to do. Government targets are a hindrance to us all and there are walks of life where they really should be ignored. Education and medicine are not businesses and should not be treated as such.
On a different note I did promise to post the hairy thing under my nose as it develops so here we go.
Wednesday 4 November 2009
Excuses
I have just been reading about the student in Yorkshire who is facing a jail sentence for urinating onto a war memorial. As is usually the case he has claimed to have no memory of the event because he was too drunk.
Alcohol abuse has been going on since alcohol was discovered, and I have in my time drunk myself into almost oblivion and probably done shameful things that are best not spoken of. I may have even, in my youth, set out to get drunk, but I don't think that it happened on a regular basis. Nowadays it seems that there are elements of society that do this almost daily, and that many of these are young girls.
Women it would seem have adopted all that they can of male behaviour and frankly it doesn't suit them. Drunken females look even more ridiculous than drunken males and are of course incredibly vulnerable. It is so sad to watch and hear hordes of adolescent females behaving so badly and urging their male counterparts to do worse. There seems to be a lack of shame in what they do, and when they get arrested for antisocial behaviour or indecency the plea is always the same - "I didn't know what I was doing" or "i can't remember". Now i don't believe either of these statements. I admit to having been too drunk to stand up on rare occasions and yet always knew what I was doing and always remembered most of what I did the next day. Not being able to remember is a myth. Sometimes we like to think that it is the case but it is a convenient lie and besides it is meaningless in the eyes of the law.
I hope that the young man in question does go to jail and that he is named and shamed. Let's face it, if we were under Sharia law he would probably have the offending part cut off publicly.
Alcohol abuse has been going on since alcohol was discovered, and I have in my time drunk myself into almost oblivion and probably done shameful things that are best not spoken of. I may have even, in my youth, set out to get drunk, but I don't think that it happened on a regular basis. Nowadays it seems that there are elements of society that do this almost daily, and that many of these are young girls.
Women it would seem have adopted all that they can of male behaviour and frankly it doesn't suit them. Drunken females look even more ridiculous than drunken males and are of course incredibly vulnerable. It is so sad to watch and hear hordes of adolescent females behaving so badly and urging their male counterparts to do worse. There seems to be a lack of shame in what they do, and when they get arrested for antisocial behaviour or indecency the plea is always the same - "I didn't know what I was doing" or "i can't remember". Now i don't believe either of these statements. I admit to having been too drunk to stand up on rare occasions and yet always knew what I was doing and always remembered most of what I did the next day. Not being able to remember is a myth. Sometimes we like to think that it is the case but it is a convenient lie and besides it is meaningless in the eyes of the law.
I hope that the young man in question does go to jail and that he is named and shamed. Let's face it, if we were under Sharia law he would probably have the offending part cut off publicly.
Friday 30 October 2009
Facial hair
November, or should I say Movember is fast approaching and I will be cultivating a new friend for 30 days. I had facial hair as a young man and my moustache was a big one. It wasn't until my kids were teenagers that they first saw me without one. Facial hair is a strange business altogether. Shaving in itself is a most unnatural procedure and not one that I am altogether fond of, though i do keep my growth down to a fairly acceptable level. Copious bushy growths may look interesting but they also pose certain health risks. Anything passing into or out of, and maybe even close to the mouth, run the risk of getting trapped and withouth careful grooming, a face can become a repository for all sorts of delicacies. Fortunately I am not allowed, according to the rules to grow a beard. That would be too easy - just not shaving is a bit of a luxury. A moustache has be be nurtured and encouraged, shaving around the area and trimming strays with sharp scissors.
My major concerns here are one - that I will end up with a pure white monstrosity under my nose, and that two - I will end up getting attached to it. The last one stayed with me for 20 years but I doubt that i have anywhere near that long to mature this one.
My thanks to anyone who has taken the trouble to donate to the charity, or even to acknowledge that it exists. I hope that Anne has little success with her attempts; testosterone may have other more unpleasant side effects! :-)
My major concerns here are one - that I will end up with a pure white monstrosity under my nose, and that two - I will end up getting attached to it. The last one stayed with me for 20 years but I doubt that i have anywhere near that long to mature this one.
My thanks to anyone who has taken the trouble to donate to the charity, or even to acknowledge that it exists. I hope that Anne has little success with her attempts; testosterone may have other more unpleasant side effects! :-)
Tuesday 27 October 2009
a plea
Hi,
I am growing a moustache this year for Movember. I have decided to put down my razor for one month (November) and help raise awareness and funds for men’s health – specifically prostate cancer.
What many people don’t appreciate is that one man dies every hour of prostate cancer in the UK, more than 35,000 men will be diagnosed this year and that prostate cancer is the most common cancer in men in the UK. Facts like these have convinced me I should get involved and I am hoping that you will support me.
To donate to my Mo, you can either:
• Click this link http://uk.movember.com/mospace/117557/ and donate online using your credit card, debit card or PayPal account
• Write a cheque payable to ‘The Prostate Cancer Charity - Movember’, referencing my Registration Number 117557 and mailing it to: Movember - The Prostate Cancer Charity, First Floor, Cambridge House, Cambridge Grove, London, W6 0LE.
Movember is now in its third year here in the UK and, to date, has achieved some pretty amazing results by working alongside The Prostate Cancer Charity. Check out further details at:http://uk.movemberfoundation.com/research-and-programs.
If you are interested in following the progress of my Mo, click herehttp://uk.movember.com/mospace/117557/. Also, http://uk.movember.com has heaps of useful information.
Thank you
Paul
ps Those who can might think about joining in and growing a nice bushy one too!
I am growing a moustache this year for Movember. I have decided to put down my razor for one month (November) and help raise awareness and funds for men’s health – specifically prostate cancer.
What many people don’t appreciate is that one man dies every hour of prostate cancer in the UK, more than 35,000 men will be diagnosed this year and that prostate cancer is the most common cancer in men in the UK. Facts like these have convinced me I should get involved and I am hoping that you will support me.
To donate to my Mo, you can either:
• Click this link http://uk.movember.com/mospace/117557/ and donate online using your credit card, debit card or PayPal account
• Write a cheque payable to ‘The Prostate Cancer Charity - Movember’, referencing my Registration Number 117557 and mailing it to: Movember - The Prostate Cancer Charity, First Floor, Cambridge House, Cambridge Grove, London, W6 0LE.
Movember is now in its third year here in the UK and, to date, has achieved some pretty amazing results by working alongside The Prostate Cancer Charity. Check out further details at:http://uk.movemberfoundation.com/research-and-programs.
If you are interested in following the progress of my Mo, click herehttp://uk.movember.com/mospace/117557/. Also, http://uk.movember.com has heaps of useful information.
Thank you
Paul
ps Those who can might think about joining in and growing a nice bushy one too!
Tuesday 20 October 2009
Values
I enjoy quizzes. I like to participate in them and enjoy writing and delivering them. In a moment of pure folly I have offered to run the quiznight at a local pub, and that is a huge commitment in terms of work and time. However i do tend to see things through and have been working on the first one which is due in a couple of weeks.
As I was compiling a round or two this morning I got to thinking about the quality of the questions and whether or not they were accessible to the punters. i remember setting a quiz for students at school some years back; this was a bright group of kids and I was taken aback when one lad complained that I wasn't asking questions that he knew the answers to. This is an important issue, and one thing that I wouldn't want to do is make anyone feel stupid. It is important to strike a balance and find questions that people can answer, but on the other hand they should not be too easy. People like to feel that they have accomplished something, whether they win or not.
I like to think that the people that go to quiz nights are those that actually value knowledge and for its own sake too. As a society we seem not to value such things anymore. We value money above everything else and unless you are wealthy or have the capacity to make money you are seen as irrelevant. Young people are being indoctrinated into an awful system, where they are not taught to recognise what is truly of value. It seems that unless you are a rock star ( I hesitate to use the word musician there), a football player, or something big in the city, then you are just run of the mill. We have lost touch with what is really important, and it is time that we reminded ourselves that some things are of more value than money.
Kids are forced through an archaic system of education that has lost its way and lost a sense of real purpose. What is the point of everyone going to university and gaining a degree? A degree these days has no market value anymore so why delude youngsters into building huge debts in order to become unemployable? Children should be taught or given the opportunity to think and to realise what they are good at, not to be thrust into a system that does no-one any favours. We need all sorts of talents, and those talents should be valued equally. Yes we need everyone to be literate and numerate for their own sakes, but equally important is that kids should grow up with self belief and self respect with a choice as to which direction they choose to take.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iG9CE55wbtY
As I was compiling a round or two this morning I got to thinking about the quality of the questions and whether or not they were accessible to the punters. i remember setting a quiz for students at school some years back; this was a bright group of kids and I was taken aback when one lad complained that I wasn't asking questions that he knew the answers to. This is an important issue, and one thing that I wouldn't want to do is make anyone feel stupid. It is important to strike a balance and find questions that people can answer, but on the other hand they should not be too easy. People like to feel that they have accomplished something, whether they win or not.
I like to think that the people that go to quiz nights are those that actually value knowledge and for its own sake too. As a society we seem not to value such things anymore. We value money above everything else and unless you are wealthy or have the capacity to make money you are seen as irrelevant. Young people are being indoctrinated into an awful system, where they are not taught to recognise what is truly of value. It seems that unless you are a rock star ( I hesitate to use the word musician there), a football player, or something big in the city, then you are just run of the mill. We have lost touch with what is really important, and it is time that we reminded ourselves that some things are of more value than money.
Kids are forced through an archaic system of education that has lost its way and lost a sense of real purpose. What is the point of everyone going to university and gaining a degree? A degree these days has no market value anymore so why delude youngsters into building huge debts in order to become unemployable? Children should be taught or given the opportunity to think and to realise what they are good at, not to be thrust into a system that does no-one any favours. We need all sorts of talents, and those talents should be valued equally. Yes we need everyone to be literate and numerate for their own sakes, but equally important is that kids should grow up with self belief and self respect with a choice as to which direction they choose to take.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iG9CE55wbtY
Monday 19 October 2009
A dull monday
For me, the worst part of this time of year is the darkness of days. This morning the sky is thick and grey and there is also a thin wind blowing that compounds the dismal nature of our weather at this time of year. I can appreciate that autumn has its plusses and that the colours of the dying leaves is wonderful when the sun shines but today is looking like one of those days when nothing seems to smile.
I just got back from a lovely weekend away, having visited my daughter and her husband in their new home. They have upsized quite considerably and although the house is very nice, there are also a plethora of jobs that need to be done and lots of niggling problems that need to be sorted. Some of those fell upon me of course and I was happy to help out with as many as I could. Unfortunately my continued problem with hives broke out again and took the edge off the weekend but that is something that I have to earn to live with.
Moving house is always stressful and i remember very well making a similar upsizing movement when I was about the same age as they are now. The difference being that buy that time we had young kids and the house we moved into was almost derelict, and so i was taking on a monumental task and at the time wondered if i was capable of completing it.
Having a large house and garden is wonderful when you are young an energetic, and fabulous for bringing up children, but as we get older and less energetic, the benefits seem fewer and the problems greater. Now I am happy to live in a relatively small place, in which my study is a few cubic metres of isolation. It is here that I spend most of my time, emerging to eat and to socialise. My needs are simple and as I get older they get simpler still. We do regress towards childhood in so many ways and i don't suppose it will be too long before the only needs that I have will be the very basic ones.
I just got back from a lovely weekend away, having visited my daughter and her husband in their new home. They have upsized quite considerably and although the house is very nice, there are also a plethora of jobs that need to be done and lots of niggling problems that need to be sorted. Some of those fell upon me of course and I was happy to help out with as many as I could. Unfortunately my continued problem with hives broke out again and took the edge off the weekend but that is something that I have to earn to live with.
Moving house is always stressful and i remember very well making a similar upsizing movement when I was about the same age as they are now. The difference being that buy that time we had young kids and the house we moved into was almost derelict, and so i was taking on a monumental task and at the time wondered if i was capable of completing it.
Having a large house and garden is wonderful when you are young an energetic, and fabulous for bringing up children, but as we get older and less energetic, the benefits seem fewer and the problems greater. Now I am happy to live in a relatively small place, in which my study is a few cubic metres of isolation. It is here that I spend most of my time, emerging to eat and to socialise. My needs are simple and as I get older they get simpler still. We do regress towards childhood in so many ways and i don't suppose it will be too long before the only needs that I have will be the very basic ones.
Tuesday 13 October 2009
Strange happening
I often think of my life as being on a level, neither unhappy nor happy. I don't get excited or angry or even upset anymore, and I suppose that has been the result of the way that I was brought up and the things that have happened to me over the years. Mainly i find that it is a comfortable way to go about things and maybe it is prolonging my existence.
It came as a surprise then, when last night i found my eyes brimming with tears as i watched a TV programme. Normally a well paid up member of the cynics society, as well as a qualified pessimist, the TV is just there and much passes me by unnoticed. Last night however I watched the Anthony Minghella production of Madame Butterfly from the New York Met, and it was wonderful. Butterfly is always a tear jerker I know, though I have sat through many live performances amongst a sea of sniffs and hankies, without batting an eyelid, but last night was different. The music is evocative enough and the performances were stunning, but what set me off was Butterfly's son, played by a puppet and controlled by two men in black. I have never seen such emotion produced by something inanimate before. In most productions a small child is used and they stand bewildered on stage until they are ushered off. The puppet stole the scenes in which it was used and for me was the making of the show. I pretended otherwise, but by the end of the performance my eyes were filled with tears and I could barely speak. No production has ever had that effect on me before.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Bror-r0Wfw&NR=1
It came as a surprise then, when last night i found my eyes brimming with tears as i watched a TV programme. Normally a well paid up member of the cynics society, as well as a qualified pessimist, the TV is just there and much passes me by unnoticed. Last night however I watched the Anthony Minghella production of Madame Butterfly from the New York Met, and it was wonderful. Butterfly is always a tear jerker I know, though I have sat through many live performances amongst a sea of sniffs and hankies, without batting an eyelid, but last night was different. The music is evocative enough and the performances were stunning, but what set me off was Butterfly's son, played by a puppet and controlled by two men in black. I have never seen such emotion produced by something inanimate before. In most productions a small child is used and they stand bewildered on stage until they are ushered off. The puppet stole the scenes in which it was used and for me was the making of the show. I pretended otherwise, but by the end of the performance my eyes were filled with tears and I could barely speak. No production has ever had that effect on me before.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Bror-r0Wfw&NR=1
Monday 12 October 2009
A rant - just for a change
I find that as time goes by, I am becoming more and more apathetic about the world in general and people in particular. I know that I can do nothing to change either and so therefore what is the point in getting worked up about it? I have become an observer and not a very interested one at that.
I do like to think that part of my brain still functions though, and that I do take time to think about things before rushing to conclusions. I leave that to the tabloid press and those who allow the newspapers to do their thinking for them.
I was sent a movie the other day- a campaign to petition President Obama in order to stop NASA from "Bombing" the moon. Now the author of the message clearly didn't understand the nature of the mission which was to collide a small projectile into the lunar surface in order to analyse the debris and to hopefully confirm the presence of usable quantities of water. The video gave the impression that the moon was about to be nuked, blown out of existence with all the obvious consequences. Protesters would like to see the new Hadron collider to be closed in case they create a black hole that swallows the world, and there are those who see genetic engineering of food crops as evil, despite the fact that farmers have been doing it since prehistory.
There are many people out there who see any attempt to drive forwards the quest for knowledge as a threat, and many more who love to jump onto ill conceived bandwagons carrying conspiracy after conspiracy. It seems that it is fashionable to be paranoid as well as stupid. To be a free thinker is becoming harder and harder with education systems driving all through the same machine, the media forever dumbing down to the lowest common denominator and an ever increasing dependence on electronic media for communication.
In March, all being well, I will become a grandfather, and though delighted, I do worry about the sort of world he/she will be coming into. I fear that they will be absorbed into a culture that lacks excellence, where to be average is good enough and to be stupid is even better, where the quest for knowledge is seen as antisocial and where scientists are burned at the stake. There is little that keeps me awake at night but having another generation in the world makes me fear for their future.
I do like to think that part of my brain still functions though, and that I do take time to think about things before rushing to conclusions. I leave that to the tabloid press and those who allow the newspapers to do their thinking for them.
I was sent a movie the other day- a campaign to petition President Obama in order to stop NASA from "Bombing" the moon. Now the author of the message clearly didn't understand the nature of the mission which was to collide a small projectile into the lunar surface in order to analyse the debris and to hopefully confirm the presence of usable quantities of water. The video gave the impression that the moon was about to be nuked, blown out of existence with all the obvious consequences. Protesters would like to see the new Hadron collider to be closed in case they create a black hole that swallows the world, and there are those who see genetic engineering of food crops as evil, despite the fact that farmers have been doing it since prehistory.
There are many people out there who see any attempt to drive forwards the quest for knowledge as a threat, and many more who love to jump onto ill conceived bandwagons carrying conspiracy after conspiracy. It seems that it is fashionable to be paranoid as well as stupid. To be a free thinker is becoming harder and harder with education systems driving all through the same machine, the media forever dumbing down to the lowest common denominator and an ever increasing dependence on electronic media for communication.
In March, all being well, I will become a grandfather, and though delighted, I do worry about the sort of world he/she will be coming into. I fear that they will be absorbed into a culture that lacks excellence, where to be average is good enough and to be stupid is even better, where the quest for knowledge is seen as antisocial and where scientists are burned at the stake. There is little that keeps me awake at night but having another generation in the world makes me fear for their future.
Tuesday 6 October 2009
Talking of which
It is at least six months away and i am already both tired and fearful of the next general election. Already the knives are out and politicians of various parties are beginning to hack pieces from one another with accusations of this that and definitely the other. The hopeful are assembling the dungpiles that they call manifestos, each trying to produce the biggest and most attractive heap that will coerce the unthinking and those with very short memories into voting for them. No doubt the tory party will win. They thrive in such conditions and are already talking about reducing state benefits and state control, easing more of the country's wealth back into the pockets of the tory supporting ruling class.
As always the Liberal democrats, they who were once the centre ground of the labour party, claim that they have a hope of winning the election. They can say whatever they like in the next half year, they can promise us new schools and motorways on Mars, because in their hearts they know that in the current system they have no chance of forming a government. As for the rest, well the minority parties will remain that and i predict that Mr Brown's party will be ousted and that we are in for another miserable period of tory rule. We probably deserve it as we did when Thatcher was elected, and my oh my was the punishment severe. The scars of her years in power are deep and long lasting, the fragmentation and divisions of society have never healed, and it looks as if the same basic ideology will be in charge of the country once again.
Of course the boat is leaking and the steering seems damaged, but come the election it will be sold to the highest bidder, and that is likely to be someone from the Middle East, who is ore interested in scrap value than in restoration or repair. I can alredy hear the creaking lifeboats being lowered by those in first class; those in steerage prepare for a long cold swim.
As always the Liberal democrats, they who were once the centre ground of the labour party, claim that they have a hope of winning the election. They can say whatever they like in the next half year, they can promise us new schools and motorways on Mars, because in their hearts they know that in the current system they have no chance of forming a government. As for the rest, well the minority parties will remain that and i predict that Mr Brown's party will be ousted and that we are in for another miserable period of tory rule. We probably deserve it as we did when Thatcher was elected, and my oh my was the punishment severe. The scars of her years in power are deep and long lasting, the fragmentation and divisions of society have never healed, and it looks as if the same basic ideology will be in charge of the country once again.
Of course the boat is leaking and the steering seems damaged, but come the election it will be sold to the highest bidder, and that is likely to be someone from the Middle East, who is ore interested in scrap value than in restoration or repair. I can alredy hear the creaking lifeboats being lowered by those in first class; those in steerage prepare for a long cold swim.
Monday 5 October 2009
Lies
When I was a child, I was taught to believe in fairies, ghosts, father christmas and God. I guess there was time when I did believe in all of those things and i understand the reasons why parents propagate those lies. I think i even participated myself with one exception. Lies are so often justified that all lies today seem justifiable and that makes me very uncomfortable. I like to think that I am a truthful person and rarely will I lie to anyone, but it seems that the normal way to behave in the 21st century is to lie as long as you can get away with it. I am not talking about telling someone that they look nice in order to make them feel good about themselves, though I am guilty of that quite frequently, I am talking about the big lies that many people today see as perfectly ok. Insurance companies tell us that we should never admit to guilt in the case of an accident, in turn so many people lie about insurance claims, and so it goes on. Politicians lie all the time, but then it is called bending the truth.
As an ex teacher, I am so familiar with kids who you see committing an offence, blatantly denying that they did it, or that they were even there, knowing that without any proof their word against mine negated any guilt. Sadly, a long exposure to lies makes for cynicism, and so these days i take most things with a large pinch of salt even though most people that i know are honest and truthful. There are still some who like to say things that you want to hear, and although done for the best reasons, they are lies.
I was also brought up to believe that telling the truth was a good thing, and I still believe that to be the case. Surely a measure of society lies in the ability of its people to recognise the value of the truth, and that it is nothing to do with religion.
As an ex teacher, I am so familiar with kids who you see committing an offence, blatantly denying that they did it, or that they were even there, knowing that without any proof their word against mine negated any guilt. Sadly, a long exposure to lies makes for cynicism, and so these days i take most things with a large pinch of salt even though most people that i know are honest and truthful. There are still some who like to say things that you want to hear, and although done for the best reasons, they are lies.
I was also brought up to believe that telling the truth was a good thing, and I still believe that to be the case. Surely a measure of society lies in the ability of its people to recognise the value of the truth, and that it is nothing to do with religion.
Monday 28 September 2009
An article by Margaret Attwood - my favourite writer
Time capsule found on the dead planet by Margaret Atwood
In December world leaders will gather in Copenhagen to try to reach a global deal to tackle climate change. To support the launch of the 10:10 campaign to reduce carbon emissions, the Review asked some of our greatest artists, authors and poets to produce new work in response to the crisis
* Margaret Atwood
* The Guardian, Saturday 26 September 2009
* Article history
1. In the first age, we created gods. We carved them out of wood; there was still such a thing as wood, then. We forged them from shining metals and painted them on temple walls. They were gods of many kinds, and goddesses as well. Sometimes they were cruel and drank our blood, but also they gave us rain and sunshine, favourable winds, good harvests, fertile animals, many children. A million birds flew over us then, a million fish swam in our seas.
Our gods had horns on their heads, or moons, or sealy fins, or the beaks of eagles. We called them All-Knowing, we called them Shining One. We knew we were not orphans. We smelled the earth and rolled in it; its juices ran down our chins.
2. In the second age we created money. This money was also made of shining metals. It had two faces: on one side was a severed head, that of a king or some other noteworthy person, on the other face was something else, something that would give us comfort: a bird, a fish, a fur-bearing animal. This was all that remained of our former gods. The money was small in size, and each of us would carry some of it with him every day, as close to the skin as possible. We could not eat this money, wear it or burn it for warmth; but as if by magic it could be changed into such things. The money was mysterious, and we were in awe of it. If you had enough of it, it was said, you would be able to fly.
3. In the third age, money became a god. It was all-powerful, and out of control. It began to talk. It began to create on its own. It created feasts and famines, songs of joy, lamentations. It created greed and hunger, which were its two faces. Towers of glass rose at its name, were destroyed and rose again. It began to eat things. It ate whole forests, croplands and the lives of children. It ate armies, ships and cities. No one could stop it. To have it was a sign of grace.
4. In the fourth age we created deserts. Our deserts were of several kinds, but they had one thing in common: nothing grew there. Some were made of cement, some were made of various poisons, some of baked earth. We made these deserts from the desire for more money and from despair at the lack of it. Wars, plagues and famines visited us, but we did not stop in our industrious creation of deserts. At last all wells were poisoned, all rivers ran with filth, all seas were dead; there was no land left to grow food.
Some of our wise men turned to the contemplation of deserts. A stone in the sand in the setting sun could be very beautiful, they said. Deserts were tidy, because there were no weeds in them, nothing that crawled. Stay in the desert long enough, and you could apprehend the absolute. The number zero was holy.
5. You who have come here from some distant world, to this dry lakeshore and this cairn, and to this cylinder of brass, in which on the last day of all our recorded days I place our final words:
Pray for us, who once, too, thought we could fly.
In December world leaders will gather in Copenhagen to try to reach a global deal to tackle climate change. To support the launch of the 10:10 campaign to reduce carbon emissions, the Review asked some of our greatest artists, authors and poets to produce new work in response to the crisis
* Margaret Atwood
* The Guardian, Saturday 26 September 2009
* Article history
1. In the first age, we created gods. We carved them out of wood; there was still such a thing as wood, then. We forged them from shining metals and painted them on temple walls. They were gods of many kinds, and goddesses as well. Sometimes they were cruel and drank our blood, but also they gave us rain and sunshine, favourable winds, good harvests, fertile animals, many children. A million birds flew over us then, a million fish swam in our seas.
Our gods had horns on their heads, or moons, or sealy fins, or the beaks of eagles. We called them All-Knowing, we called them Shining One. We knew we were not orphans. We smelled the earth and rolled in it; its juices ran down our chins.
2. In the second age we created money. This money was also made of shining metals. It had two faces: on one side was a severed head, that of a king or some other noteworthy person, on the other face was something else, something that would give us comfort: a bird, a fish, a fur-bearing animal. This was all that remained of our former gods. The money was small in size, and each of us would carry some of it with him every day, as close to the skin as possible. We could not eat this money, wear it or burn it for warmth; but as if by magic it could be changed into such things. The money was mysterious, and we were in awe of it. If you had enough of it, it was said, you would be able to fly.
3. In the third age, money became a god. It was all-powerful, and out of control. It began to talk. It began to create on its own. It created feasts and famines, songs of joy, lamentations. It created greed and hunger, which were its two faces. Towers of glass rose at its name, were destroyed and rose again. It began to eat things. It ate whole forests, croplands and the lives of children. It ate armies, ships and cities. No one could stop it. To have it was a sign of grace.
4. In the fourth age we created deserts. Our deserts were of several kinds, but they had one thing in common: nothing grew there. Some were made of cement, some were made of various poisons, some of baked earth. We made these deserts from the desire for more money and from despair at the lack of it. Wars, plagues and famines visited us, but we did not stop in our industrious creation of deserts. At last all wells were poisoned, all rivers ran with filth, all seas were dead; there was no land left to grow food.
Some of our wise men turned to the contemplation of deserts. A stone in the sand in the setting sun could be very beautiful, they said. Deserts were tidy, because there were no weeds in them, nothing that crawled. Stay in the desert long enough, and you could apprehend the absolute. The number zero was holy.
5. You who have come here from some distant world, to this dry lakeshore and this cairn, and to this cylinder of brass, in which on the last day of all our recorded days I place our final words:
Pray for us, who once, too, thought we could fly.
Plastic men with plastic hats and coats
I confess that I have been following the X Factor on TV. It is a warped sort of occupation as I loathe virtually everything about it. The "judges", with one exception, are plastic and mindless and the contestants all seem to be utterly desperate to become celebrities, having no ideas what else they can do with their lives. Part of the morbid fascination comes from those who have even less talent than i do, and yet they stand up on a stage and produce performances that would humiliate most of us, while seeming surprised that they are rejected. Many of these no hopers have sponsors who must have put them up there just for a bet; I can think of no other reason. There are some who seem to have a modicum of talent but what people seem to forget is that this is not a talent show, it is a selection process for a wealthy entrepreneur who is looking for someone to fill a very precise mould, and inevitably increase his wealth further. It matters not a jot how good the contestant may be unless they can tick the boxes that are essential for a commercial success. The modern Pop industry is primarily aimed at teenage girls, and has been for decades. Hence the surge in boy bands and girl bands who may have presence and adequate voices but little else to offer. We are in an era of session musicians, invisible talents who provide background music for the hothouse reared mayflies of the industry, the one hit wonders who will be forgotten within a few years.
As an antidote I have been digging out some of my old vinyl albums. I had a thing about sampler albums and these albums contained tracks from many bands who never really made it bigtime, and yet the quality of the music and the musical ability of the performers was first rate. Most of these bands learn their trade from the ground upwards and only made records when the industry deemed them good enough. Bands became famous by playing live gigs and for very little money compared to today. I saw the Beatles for 50p and Cream for even less. Status Quo played a college dance for 40 pounds, and yet now that 40 pounds wouldn't get you a ticket.
I know there is still talent out there, there are some good bands and some wonderful singers including my friend Holly, but it would seem that it is necessary to play a particular set of games if you wish to become successful. For now though, but I hope not for long, the inane, the plastic and the clones are in the driving seat.
As an antidote I have been digging out some of my old vinyl albums. I had a thing about sampler albums and these albums contained tracks from many bands who never really made it bigtime, and yet the quality of the music and the musical ability of the performers was first rate. Most of these bands learn their trade from the ground upwards and only made records when the industry deemed them good enough. Bands became famous by playing live gigs and for very little money compared to today. I saw the Beatles for 50p and Cream for even less. Status Quo played a college dance for 40 pounds, and yet now that 40 pounds wouldn't get you a ticket.
I know there is still talent out there, there are some good bands and some wonderful singers including my friend Holly, but it would seem that it is necessary to play a particular set of games if you wish to become successful. For now though, but I hope not for long, the inane, the plastic and the clones are in the driving seat.
Sunday 27 September 2009
Breakout
As I write this, I can barely see out of one eye, my head, face and upper torso are all covered in hives yet again. It is only a week since the last outbreak and frankly I am sick of it. I have seen all the specialists and they say that it is ideopathic, and that is really helpful. I take double doses or more of the antihistamines as soon as it appears and yet nothing seems to make any difference. It is a strange ailment and always makes me feel very ill in an undefined way; and I live in hope that it will be short lived.
Fortunately I am in a position where I don't have to go out at all. In fact I go for days without seeing people, and that sometimes suits me. I have a propensity towards a hermit's life style and that is something that I have no wish to adopt. I can see how it can creep up on one though and must remain on my guard.
On a positive note, yesterday I received and installed the latest Mac Operating system. I did hedge a little as mostly, new OS often means bugs and troubles, but the reviews have been good so i bit the bullet and am so glad that I did. For months now I have been unable to use Adobe Illustrator, one of my favourite programs; it clashed with an upgrade and there seemed no solution. I was on the cusp of spending out a lot of money to replace it with a new version, but now I find that it works again - deep joy.
I now have a faster and leaner computer to play with and that should help me through until the inevitable subsidence, but in the meantime I'll continue to scratch and silently scream to myself.
Fortunately I am in a position where I don't have to go out at all. In fact I go for days without seeing people, and that sometimes suits me. I have a propensity towards a hermit's life style and that is something that I have no wish to adopt. I can see how it can creep up on one though and must remain on my guard.
On a positive note, yesterday I received and installed the latest Mac Operating system. I did hedge a little as mostly, new OS often means bugs and troubles, but the reviews have been good so i bit the bullet and am so glad that I did. For months now I have been unable to use Adobe Illustrator, one of my favourite programs; it clashed with an upgrade and there seemed no solution. I was on the cusp of spending out a lot of money to replace it with a new version, but now I find that it works again - deep joy.
I now have a faster and leaner computer to play with and that should help me through until the inevitable subsidence, but in the meantime I'll continue to scratch and silently scream to myself.
Thursday 24 September 2009
Hidden treasures
I have been reading about the recent find of saxon treasure in Staffordshire. It would seem that a guy with a metal detector has unearthed one of the biggest and most important finds of its kind just lying there beneath a farmer's field.
This taps directly into boyhood dreams of buried treasure, and though we always hoped that we'd find hoards of something or other we never did. It never stopped us hoping though, and now and then, we'd create our own little boxes of treasure and bury it. Of course we'd quickly move on and forget where we'd but it and so out there will be the rotting remains of tin soldiers, buttons, sweet wrappers, hastilly scribbled notes and who know what. We did understand that our tins wouldn't last long and so we'd wrap eveything in layers of polythene bags. One day perhaps someone will find the bits and pieces that we buried and wonder what we were like.
This activity has been formalised these days with schools burying time capsules, designed to preserve things forever. No doubt our antecedents will take great pleasure in examining the past that way, but there is no sense of discovery in such things.
Finding what has been lost has always been pleasurable, and throughout life I have lost much that I held dear. To rediscover those things have probably brought joy to others and such is the way of things.
This taps directly into boyhood dreams of buried treasure, and though we always hoped that we'd find hoards of something or other we never did. It never stopped us hoping though, and now and then, we'd create our own little boxes of treasure and bury it. Of course we'd quickly move on and forget where we'd but it and so out there will be the rotting remains of tin soldiers, buttons, sweet wrappers, hastilly scribbled notes and who know what. We did understand that our tins wouldn't last long and so we'd wrap eveything in layers of polythene bags. One day perhaps someone will find the bits and pieces that we buried and wonder what we were like.
This activity has been formalised these days with schools burying time capsules, designed to preserve things forever. No doubt our antecedents will take great pleasure in examining the past that way, but there is no sense of discovery in such things.
Finding what has been lost has always been pleasurable, and throughout life I have lost much that I held dear. To rediscover those things have probably brought joy to others and such is the way of things.
Wednesday 23 September 2009
Time flies like an arrow - fruit flies like a banana
My greenhouse is infested with fruit flies. I don't really mind as all that is left in there are overripe tomatoes and they are welcome to them. They are fascinating little things with beautiful red eyes. For decades these little creatures have been at the cutting edge of genetics and in the wild there are many different species and within those species hundreds of weird and wonderful mutations.
Some have white eyes and in others eyes are sepia coloured, some have no wings and there are even individual with legs where antennae should be.
Mutations occur naturally as a matter of chance but many of these mutants have been produced in laboratories by exposing flies to radiation or to mutagenic chemicals. Such experiments have advanced our understanding of the way that genes work and no-one has ever complained that these creatures have been badly done by. There are no fruit fly liberation groups, or save the fruit fly campaigns. People do not get excited about genetic manipulation when it comes to these little beasts and yet they have been subjected to our attention for so long.
They are easily kept as pets too - all you need to do is mash a banana, put the pulp into a glass bottle and leave it open for a day or so. After that plug it with cotton wool and watch the little dears breed to their hearts content. Within a few days you will find the banana crawling with tiny larvae and a week or so on you will have a brand new crop of flies that think the universe ends in a hard shiny wall. Oddly there will not be any evidence that they are forming groups or societies, they don't fight and they do nat appear to be looking for answers to life the universe and everything. They don't hold meetings and have no economy and yet they seem to rub along quite happily.
Spiders love them too - if you have a pet spider then you can keep her in food all the yearround by maintaining a breeding population of flies. Try it - you know you want to!
Some have white eyes and in others eyes are sepia coloured, some have no wings and there are even individual with legs where antennae should be.
Mutations occur naturally as a matter of chance but many of these mutants have been produced in laboratories by exposing flies to radiation or to mutagenic chemicals. Such experiments have advanced our understanding of the way that genes work and no-one has ever complained that these creatures have been badly done by. There are no fruit fly liberation groups, or save the fruit fly campaigns. People do not get excited about genetic manipulation when it comes to these little beasts and yet they have been subjected to our attention for so long.
They are easily kept as pets too - all you need to do is mash a banana, put the pulp into a glass bottle and leave it open for a day or so. After that plug it with cotton wool and watch the little dears breed to their hearts content. Within a few days you will find the banana crawling with tiny larvae and a week or so on you will have a brand new crop of flies that think the universe ends in a hard shiny wall. Oddly there will not be any evidence that they are forming groups or societies, they don't fight and they do nat appear to be looking for answers to life the universe and everything. They don't hold meetings and have no economy and yet they seem to rub along quite happily.
Spiders love them too - if you have a pet spider then you can keep her in food all the yearround by maintaining a breeding population of flies. Try it - you know you want to!
Monday 21 September 2009
Happy mondays
I have been checking my broadband speed this morning. I do it from time to time just to satisfy myself that my ISp is failing to keep its promise. I am paying for 10Mb/s and usually manage to obtain about 2. Now this is actually adequate for my needs but I do feel that I am paying over the odds for the service that I get. I know that the contract says in very small print - "up to" but it still seems a little unfair to generate such optimism, whilst guaranteeing disappointment.
It is of course the fashion to be upbeat and positive about everything, to make promises that cannot possibly be delivered upon, whilst looking down or realistic viewpoints and branding their holders as cynics.
I agree that there is a place for optimism, after all burying one's head in the sand can generate a wonderful feeling of security, but some that I know make a habit of this while being shafted by those who prey on them.
I'd love to be able to see the good in everyone but I firmly believe that some are born bad, and as such, lack any redeeming features. Of course many are made bad by their circumstances and the world is generating more and more "bad" people because of the way that we are running it. Here we have a growing underclass of young people who do not fit into the moulds that are available to them, choosing to live outside of the laws and social mores that keep society in order. They are failing to recognise authority and authority in it's turn seems to be losing the advantage. the police force are spending more and more of their time dealing with kids, and the news reports habitual offenders as young as three years. Kids have become untouchable in all senses and more and more of them are becoming feral. I know that if kids vandalise my property that I can do nothing about it. To defend myself against them is illegal and should I do anything then i am liable to be prosecuted. Like most adults, I now avoid any dealings with kids out in the wild and that is a shame.
On an optimistic note, I do have a broadband connection that seems to be reliable most of the time. That means that I can access the world virtually, which seems so much more pleasant in some ways than the harsh realities of a human race that is rapidly heading for self destruction.
It is of course the fashion to be upbeat and positive about everything, to make promises that cannot possibly be delivered upon, whilst looking down or realistic viewpoints and branding their holders as cynics.
I agree that there is a place for optimism, after all burying one's head in the sand can generate a wonderful feeling of security, but some that I know make a habit of this while being shafted by those who prey on them.
I'd love to be able to see the good in everyone but I firmly believe that some are born bad, and as such, lack any redeeming features. Of course many are made bad by their circumstances and the world is generating more and more "bad" people because of the way that we are running it. Here we have a growing underclass of young people who do not fit into the moulds that are available to them, choosing to live outside of the laws and social mores that keep society in order. They are failing to recognise authority and authority in it's turn seems to be losing the advantage. the police force are spending more and more of their time dealing with kids, and the news reports habitual offenders as young as three years. Kids have become untouchable in all senses and more and more of them are becoming feral. I know that if kids vandalise my property that I can do nothing about it. To defend myself against them is illegal and should I do anything then i am liable to be prosecuted. Like most adults, I now avoid any dealings with kids out in the wild and that is a shame.
On an optimistic note, I do have a broadband connection that seems to be reliable most of the time. That means that I can access the world virtually, which seems so much more pleasant in some ways than the harsh realities of a human race that is rapidly heading for self destruction.
Monday 14 September 2009
The courage to fail
I remember a wonderful documentary series on the TV tilted “The Courage to fail”. It described the history of heart surgery and showed that the almost narcissistic arrogance of the pioneer surgeons, drove their progress, and that it had been necessary to take huge risks with patient’s lives in order that their techniques and procedures could be developed.
Western societies drive the world along in terms of technological evolution. For centuries , scientific progress has been in the hands of Europe and America and with every step forward, someone has been prepared to take a risk. Jenner risked the life of James Phipps and his own reputation in his demonstration of the first Vaccination, John Hunter infected himself with syphilis in order to show that it was a disease in its own right, Marie Curie accelerated he death in her search for Radium and so on.
The newspapers would like us all to believe that the new particle accelerator, due to be switched on again this year will, create a black hole into which we will all vanish, and maybe it will. In the end would it matter? There would be no-one to sue and no protesters to complain about it.
The world sits on the brink of a food shortage. It may not seem likely as we see our own population getting fatter and fatter, but there are occasional reminders in the form of footage of children starving to death in far flung regions of Africa, where a farmer’s productivity is at the whims of weather and whatever insect pest happens to be in abundance that year.
Somehow in this century, food production must be increased by 50%, and that is a monumental task. We do however have the technology to do something towards increasing food productivity and giving the African farmer a helping hand. GM plants can solve some of the issues producing more and in some cases better foods than we have ever had before, and yet, the very mention of GM brings out the protesters like wasps at a jam sandwich picnic.
All that we eat has been the product of genetic manipulation anyhow, where, by selective breeding of livestock, we have produced plants and animals that are geared up to feed us and provide for other needs too. GM is not new, it is largely the sensationalization of the process by the tabloid press that has generated the fear that stems from the ignorance of the masses.
Risk taking has become a rarity. Health and safety regulations and exponential growth in the population of lawyers means that we all walk around on eggshells, afraid to step away from the path. That way lies stagnation and disaster.
Western societies drive the world along in terms of technological evolution. For centuries , scientific progress has been in the hands of Europe and America and with every step forward, someone has been prepared to take a risk. Jenner risked the life of James Phipps and his own reputation in his demonstration of the first Vaccination, John Hunter infected himself with syphilis in order to show that it was a disease in its own right, Marie Curie accelerated he death in her search for Radium and so on.
The newspapers would like us all to believe that the new particle accelerator, due to be switched on again this year will, create a black hole into which we will all vanish, and maybe it will. In the end would it matter? There would be no-one to sue and no protesters to complain about it.
The world sits on the brink of a food shortage. It may not seem likely as we see our own population getting fatter and fatter, but there are occasional reminders in the form of footage of children starving to death in far flung regions of Africa, where a farmer’s productivity is at the whims of weather and whatever insect pest happens to be in abundance that year.
Somehow in this century, food production must be increased by 50%, and that is a monumental task. We do however have the technology to do something towards increasing food productivity and giving the African farmer a helping hand. GM plants can solve some of the issues producing more and in some cases better foods than we have ever had before, and yet, the very mention of GM brings out the protesters like wasps at a jam sandwich picnic.
All that we eat has been the product of genetic manipulation anyhow, where, by selective breeding of livestock, we have produced plants and animals that are geared up to feed us and provide for other needs too. GM is not new, it is largely the sensationalization of the process by the tabloid press that has generated the fear that stems from the ignorance of the masses.
Risk taking has become a rarity. Health and safety regulations and exponential growth in the population of lawyers means that we all walk around on eggshells, afraid to step away from the path. That way lies stagnation and disaster.
Friday 11 September 2009
The garden of eden?
I am a poor gardener. In fact i am not much good at anything really, but I potter and some things do well despite my efforts. I love plants that thrive on neglect, but when it comes to vegetables there are few that do. My courgettes all grow when i am not looking into monster marrows that have very limited culinary use, my beans tend to mature spasmodically so that there are rarely sufficient in the right state to eat and by the time the others catch up, they have become old and stringy. I give up with onions; i am sure that my onion sets actually shrink rather than grow, and my tomatoes - well does anyone want some - they seem to frow like weeds and I have no control over them at all.
My one big success this year has been my wormery. I have this device into which I put all my kitchen waste - uncooked stuff that is- and the worms feed upon it and out of the bottom comes a rich brown liquid that is supposed to be a good fertilizer. Maybe in more skilled hands it would be, but I am happy that the system works. These worms breed at an incredible rate and if i open the layers, each one is alive with pink wriggly things that seem to have just three real functions in life, to eat, to breed and to crap. They have everything provided for them and seem content with their lot. None seem to have an urge to escape and I am pretty sure that they don't fight among themselves for the supplies that they are given.
How they interrelate is a mystery, and although they do have nervous sytems, i am pretty sure that they do not have the facility to devise philosophy. Were this possible, I suppose that some bright wriggler with nothing better to do would have realised that each time the lid was removed, that abundant delicious treats were provided by a huge entity, and that this entity must be the creator.
Humans are good at anthropomorphisation, and many believe that all animals have the ability to think or to reason. How silly is that? i know some people who are unable to reason, and yet some think that animals can apply thoughts in human style. I am sure that some creatures come close to that but it is a truism that man is the only animal not trapped in the present.
Worms have no memory, no ability to think for themselves and therefore ........................... wow, maybe they do have a religion!
My one big success this year has been my wormery. I have this device into which I put all my kitchen waste - uncooked stuff that is- and the worms feed upon it and out of the bottom comes a rich brown liquid that is supposed to be a good fertilizer. Maybe in more skilled hands it would be, but I am happy that the system works. These worms breed at an incredible rate and if i open the layers, each one is alive with pink wriggly things that seem to have just three real functions in life, to eat, to breed and to crap. They have everything provided for them and seem content with their lot. None seem to have an urge to escape and I am pretty sure that they don't fight among themselves for the supplies that they are given.
How they interrelate is a mystery, and although they do have nervous sytems, i am pretty sure that they do not have the facility to devise philosophy. Were this possible, I suppose that some bright wriggler with nothing better to do would have realised that each time the lid was removed, that abundant delicious treats were provided by a huge entity, and that this entity must be the creator.
Humans are good at anthropomorphisation, and many believe that all animals have the ability to think or to reason. How silly is that? i know some people who are unable to reason, and yet some think that animals can apply thoughts in human style. I am sure that some creatures come close to that but it is a truism that man is the only animal not trapped in the present.
Worms have no memory, no ability to think for themselves and therefore ........................... wow, maybe they do have a religion!
Thursday 10 September 2009
Searching for the truth
Watching with a sense of awe the latest batch of pictures from the enhanced Hubble Telescope, I was taken away from my reverie by a comment about the money that is wasted upon space exploration. There are millions of people out there who do see such a program as a waste of money, and while there are huge problems in society and desperate poverty in the world, I can see the argument. However, the same millions of people are quite happy to support the obscenity of the organised religions, that do nothing to solve the underlying problems faced by those that support them.
On the same news broadcast I was appalled by the attitudes being expressed in the USA regarding Barak Obama’s attempts to bring a new humanity to the American health system, where everyone, regardless of their wealth, would have access to medical care. There is so much anger that seems to come from profound ignorance of what a National Health service is all about, many people opposing the idea on the basis of an ideology that has been driven into them while education has failed. America seems to magnify the enormous divides that exist within the world, and with their obsessive views on freedom, the whole world can observe them on their best and worst behaviour.
As a society, the world is being pulled apart. We seem to have learned very little from history and still allow ourselves to be ruled by the irrational. Politicians are afraid to oppose those who are led by fantastic theistic philosophies, and so the churches still wield their powers, albeit in covert ways.
The money spent perpetuating ancient middle eastern mythologies would go a long way towards solving many of the real issues faced by people today. What is spent on space research is insignificant in proportion, and I for one would rather spend money seeking the truth than in the perpetuation of lies.
On the same news broadcast I was appalled by the attitudes being expressed in the USA regarding Barak Obama’s attempts to bring a new humanity to the American health system, where everyone, regardless of their wealth, would have access to medical care. There is so much anger that seems to come from profound ignorance of what a National Health service is all about, many people opposing the idea on the basis of an ideology that has been driven into them while education has failed. America seems to magnify the enormous divides that exist within the world, and with their obsessive views on freedom, the whole world can observe them on their best and worst behaviour.
As a society, the world is being pulled apart. We seem to have learned very little from history and still allow ourselves to be ruled by the irrational. Politicians are afraid to oppose those who are led by fantastic theistic philosophies, and so the churches still wield their powers, albeit in covert ways.
The money spent perpetuating ancient middle eastern mythologies would go a long way towards solving many of the real issues faced by people today. What is spent on space research is insignificant in proportion, and I for one would rather spend money seeking the truth than in the perpetuation of lies.
Wednesday 9 September 2009
Ownership
Most women that I know (not all) love to go shopping. Most men that I know - do not. It is women by and large that drive the economy and some seem to be in a huge spiral, a maelstrom of acquisition that fills wardrobes, drawers, kitchens and eventually whole houses with stuff.
I look around and know that much of the clutter that I am surrounded by is utterly superfluous and yet I do not have it in me to throw things away. I am not a shopper but even so I seem to gather stuff like a magnet gathers filings, and my office is a mess of bric-a-brac that only I am responsible for. I know that most of the books will never be read again, and much of the music collection will remain unplayed. I can listen to whatever i like online now and that is so much easier than putting a dic into the machine.
I have two computers, one is a reserve in case this one should let me down, and I justify the retention of most things in a similar way. I have painting materials in abundance and yet I haven't painted for years, I have lino and cutting tools, I have a plethora of add ons for various electronic things and cameras both digital and otherwise that I no longer have any use for, and yet I cannot bring myself to pass these things on.
We are by nature of our genetic disposition nest builders, and as such we are programmed to collect things. Does it make us happy? Of course not; in fact it would seem that the more we have, the less happy we become. Modern society is about instant gratification and everyone seems to want everything and want it now. When i was a kid, if you couldn't afford it you couldn't have it, plain and simple. Now it is a case of buy it now and pay later, regardless of the mountainous debts that build up.
I often wonder what it would be like to shed all posessions and start all over again. I suspect that it would mean that I'd just collect a whole new batch of rubbish!
I look around and know that much of the clutter that I am surrounded by is utterly superfluous and yet I do not have it in me to throw things away. I am not a shopper but even so I seem to gather stuff like a magnet gathers filings, and my office is a mess of bric-a-brac that only I am responsible for. I know that most of the books will never be read again, and much of the music collection will remain unplayed. I can listen to whatever i like online now and that is so much easier than putting a dic into the machine.
I have two computers, one is a reserve in case this one should let me down, and I justify the retention of most things in a similar way. I have painting materials in abundance and yet I haven't painted for years, I have lino and cutting tools, I have a plethora of add ons for various electronic things and cameras both digital and otherwise that I no longer have any use for, and yet I cannot bring myself to pass these things on.
We are by nature of our genetic disposition nest builders, and as such we are programmed to collect things. Does it make us happy? Of course not; in fact it would seem that the more we have, the less happy we become. Modern society is about instant gratification and everyone seems to want everything and want it now. When i was a kid, if you couldn't afford it you couldn't have it, plain and simple. Now it is a case of buy it now and pay later, regardless of the mountainous debts that build up.
I often wonder what it would be like to shed all posessions and start all over again. I suspect that it would mean that I'd just collect a whole new batch of rubbish!
Monday 7 September 2009
Waiting for the wolves
Every now and then, I realise that my opinion counts for nothing, and that tends to block me from writing anything at all. It fades of course and i return to the delusional state in which I imagine that someone somewhere might give a shit. We are all the centres of the universe and everything spins around us. We all imagine that we are all important and indestructable but the reality of it all is that we are all islands. John Donne got it wrong. LIke all islands though we do need interaction with others, we need to trade and to share ideas, but when the sun goes down we are alone.
We journey through whatever paths we choose and we may leave traces of where we have been, we may even influence others and in turn be influenced by them, but our path is unique and we tread it the way we choose.
Many believe in some sort of afterlife; whether it be reincarnation or a paradise populated by virgins ( seems like an oxymoron to me!), and this seems to give some sort of hope to the extent that their whole lives are devoted to preparation for the next one. That seems like spending all of one's income on life insurance, or placing a huge bet on the world ending tomorrow. I believe that we just have the one life and that one day the end of the path will be reached; beyond that there is nothingness and we take that last step alone. If it is possible we should endeavour to link our paths to other's while we can, and to make the most of whatever encounters there may be.
The spectre of old age is a frequent visitor, and elderly, frail parents are a constant reminder of one's own futility. The prospect of vegetation in front of a TV, or worse, in the cabbage and urine saturated atmosphere of an old folks home terrify me as i am sure they do others, and i hope that by the time i get there, that there will be alternatives. Being left festering in a home is no better than being left on the outskirts of the village and waiting for the wolves.
We journey through whatever paths we choose and we may leave traces of where we have been, we may even influence others and in turn be influenced by them, but our path is unique and we tread it the way we choose.
Many believe in some sort of afterlife; whether it be reincarnation or a paradise populated by virgins ( seems like an oxymoron to me!), and this seems to give some sort of hope to the extent that their whole lives are devoted to preparation for the next one. That seems like spending all of one's income on life insurance, or placing a huge bet on the world ending tomorrow. I believe that we just have the one life and that one day the end of the path will be reached; beyond that there is nothingness and we take that last step alone. If it is possible we should endeavour to link our paths to other's while we can, and to make the most of whatever encounters there may be.
The spectre of old age is a frequent visitor, and elderly, frail parents are a constant reminder of one's own futility. The prospect of vegetation in front of a TV, or worse, in the cabbage and urine saturated atmosphere of an old folks home terrify me as i am sure they do others, and i hope that by the time i get there, that there will be alternatives. Being left festering in a home is no better than being left on the outskirts of the village and waiting for the wolves.
Tuesday 1 September 2009
Excuses
For the past few weeks i seem to have been not here more than here. Travelling hundreds of miles by road is not the pleasure that is once was and this last weekend was a bit of a nightmare. Traffic density is getting to ridiculous levels and most motorway streams now run in pulses. All it takes is for a lorry to begin an overtaking manoevre on a steep incline to create a backup of traffic that goes on for miles. So, like millions of others, i spent a significant portion of the weekend sitting in traffic queues and muttering "never again" to myself.
The situation can only get worse unless something is done to reduce the traffic on the roads, but nothing that has been attempted so far seems to make any difference. Maybe it is time to bar some drivers from using the roads and to enhance the availability and affordability of public transport. I would happily trade my drivers licence for a subsidised travel pass, but with fares as they are, public transport is neither desirable not economic for anyone unless they are alone.
Anyhow, it is good to be home and away from the seething masses. I must get back into writing again.
The situation can only get worse unless something is done to reduce the traffic on the roads, but nothing that has been attempted so far seems to make any difference. Maybe it is time to bar some drivers from using the roads and to enhance the availability and affordability of public transport. I would happily trade my drivers licence for a subsidised travel pass, but with fares as they are, public transport is neither desirable not economic for anyone unless they are alone.
Anyhow, it is good to be home and away from the seething masses. I must get back into writing again.
Friday 21 August 2009
Returning to normality
One of the things about holidays is that as soon as you come back, everything slips back to normal and it is as if the trip never happened. The memories are there as are the gaping holes in the bank account, and I fear that I may be getting another reminder in the form of a speeding ticket, but I will hold my breath on that one. Dammit I didn’t see the camera or the change in speed limit because of a bloody camper van, but I won’t start on about those.
Since returning, I haven’t been out of the house other than to potter in the garden, and for that I am quite happy. Having said that I have still managed to continue the spendfest, ordering books and movies about the first and second world wars. The 3sheer vastness of those undertakings made a big impression on me and I fully intend to find out more about what went on.
I have been in touch with an old school friend; someone that I haven’t seen in 40 years, and that has been a revelation. She sent me a photograph of a school trip that we must have taken in the sixth form, and although I recognise all of the people in the shot, I have no recollection of the event whatsoever. That is disturbing as I have such crystal clear memories of days at school. Now I doubt the validity of those memories and am beginning to think that some may be artificial, mere figments of my imagination. We do tend to remember what we choose to remember and conveniently forget events that are not pleasant or that are in some way negative. I hope that I don’t see the past through “rose coloured glasses” but my communications with Kate have made me think, and reassess my thoughts. I hope that she will be able to fill in some blanks and lend a little accuracy to my accounts. Time, I guess, will tell.
Tuesday 18 August 2009
Chips with everything
Now I know that the title is a cliché but I considered it apposite. It is in fact the title of a play by Arnold Wesker, not, as my copy of Enclopaedia Brittanica would have it, a part of the Wesker Trilogy, but a powerful freestanding play about some new recruits into the army. It is a play that I read when at school and it captured my imagination at the time. I was reminded of it last week as we journeyed through Normandy and Belgium, visiting the scenes of many of the battles of the two world wars. The scale of the carnage that took place in those two terrible periods of history is mind boggling. The graveyards and monuments are everywhere and still corpses are discovered in the fields nearly 100 years on. To say that I felt humbled and saddened is an understatement, and yet I was also impressed that these places are still being visited by swarms of people, all of whom show the greatest respect for these, mainly young, men who were butchered in their hundreds of thousands, and for what?
Most of us have relatives who fought in these conflicts. Some, the lucky few managed to return and those that did were forever changed by the experiences that they went through. My relatives managed to survive, but they never wanted to talk about what happened at Ypres or Passchendale. There are plenty of images and movie footage to explain why.
We stayed in a number of hotels, and ate in a number of restaurants, being fond of French and Belgian food. This time i noticed two differences in the cuisine compared with previous visits to this part of the world. One is that the whole experience has become more expensive and it seems that unless you are very lucky or wealthy, everything comes with chips! Mussels and chips, ok that is a fair combination but whatever happened to the traditional vegetables perfectly cooked and served? I guess that sadly the French are drifting into the 21st century.
Monday 3 August 2009
Priorities
Dale and Leilani Neumann, have just been convicted or reckless homicide, because they put their religion before medicine, when their 11 year old daughter became ill. Choosing prayer rather than medical intervention, led to the unnecessary death of a young innocent girl and now both parents face a 25 year jail sentence. This is such a sad story and yet there is nothing unusual about it. The same things happen over an over again with so many people believing that prayer actually works.
One can almost imagine that in Bible belt USA, that these two would have got off, but no, a jury was found even there, that established their guilt. There are those that believe that Dale and Leilani must be mentally ill and should be hospitalised rather than incarcerated, but there is a dangerous precedent. If these two are found to be mentally ill, then the same diagnosis could be applied to 70% of the world's population on the grounds that they talk to invisible friends on a regular basis, and that many people have spent their lives in institutions for far less.
Those who think that religion is wonderful, or even a benign part of our lives, might like to think again. It is all very well to say that such extremists are rare but they are not, and what is more the evidence suggests that it is the extremists who tend to dominate in the end. The real criminals here are not the parents who I am sure loved their child, but those misguided and ignorant individuals who brainwashed them into believing that to love a fantasy is more important than to love one's children.
One can almost imagine that in Bible belt USA, that these two would have got off, but no, a jury was found even there, that established their guilt. There are those that believe that Dale and Leilani must be mentally ill and should be hospitalised rather than incarcerated, but there is a dangerous precedent. If these two are found to be mentally ill, then the same diagnosis could be applied to 70% of the world's population on the grounds that they talk to invisible friends on a regular basis, and that many people have spent their lives in institutions for far less.
Those who think that religion is wonderful, or even a benign part of our lives, might like to think again. It is all very well to say that such extremists are rare but they are not, and what is more the evidence suggests that it is the extremists who tend to dominate in the end. The real criminals here are not the parents who I am sure loved their child, but those misguided and ignorant individuals who brainwashed them into believing that to love a fantasy is more important than to love one's children.
Wednesday 29 July 2009
To pluck or not to pluck
I am fond of listening to the radio. It gives a freedom to do other things simultaneously, unlike the TV which tends to eliminate that possibility. Mostly the radio is tuned to BBC radio 4 or sometimes 3, and this morning it was the former. Normally when Woman's hour begins, i get up and change the channel. This is partly because i am against the very notion of a women's only programme and partly because I hate the way that these hairy feminists manage to make everything into a womans issue. However, there are occasions, like today, when i can't be bothered to switch them off. It all seemed pretty benign after all and there was an interesting item about clicky hips.
Then the discussion changed to eyebrows. Intelligent women who want to be taken seriously "entertained" their audience by talking about eyebrows for ten whole minutes. Unbelievable! The content even more so: apparently it has become trendy again to shave off the eyebrows and, wait for it, yes you guessed, to draw on some new ones. How ludicrous is the world of fashion and those who worship therein. I lost interest at that point, and must remember next time to turn it off before they get chance to rekindle the chauvinistic side of me.
Then the discussion changed to eyebrows. Intelligent women who want to be taken seriously "entertained" their audience by talking about eyebrows for ten whole minutes. Unbelievable! The content even more so: apparently it has become trendy again to shave off the eyebrows and, wait for it, yes you guessed, to draw on some new ones. How ludicrous is the world of fashion and those who worship therein. I lost interest at that point, and must remember next time to turn it off before they get chance to rekindle the chauvinistic side of me.
Tuesday 28 July 2009
The deed is done
The conservatory is done! Well having said that, the bricklayers are back to move the step that was put in the wrong place, but that is a long story. It is a big improvement on what was there before and that is just as well considering the cost of it all, but of course it doesn't end there does it! Now there is the lighting, the furniture and woe of all woes, the blinds. The first estimate for these was a special offer price of two thousand pounds. Now excuse me for appearing to be more of a cheapskate than usual, but that seems hellishly expensive for bits of string and fabric.
The company that has produced this structure does make a good product and the finished work is very good. It is solid and, steps aside, the attention to detail has been excellent. What they lacked throughout the many weeks that this has taken, has been an ability to communicate, both with customers and their workforce. From both those points of view,it has been difficult to say the least. Very little seems to be committed to paper and workmen would often appear not knowing what they were supposed to be doing. One saving grace however is that no money has changed hands yet and that will not happen until the job is satisfactorily completed.
Sunday 26 July 2009
Minority report
The world runs as it does because of a very tiny minority of people. This elite, are the engineers, scientists and designers who innovate, improve and push technology to its limits. This group, most of whom are men produce everything that the modern world depends on. They cannot do it alone however and in turn they depend on the masses to provide the labour and the needs that keep them going. There is another elite of course, and those are the minority that control the money supply. For these people to exist they need the rest of us to spend as much money as possible, and that in turn traditionally means that we work hard to earn that money, or more recently to accumulate as much debt as we possibly can.
Most of us are utterly helpless and without the system operating as it does, we'd perish very quickly. Survival skills are something that our distant ancestors once had, but today we have a generation that can operate a remote control but have no idea how to recognise the wildlife that we were once dependent upon. So many skills are vanishing. It struck me yesterday that I don't remember telephone numbers anymore. Why? well one reason is that I don't need to, with all the numbers that I use being pre programmed into the phones. We are not encouraged to use our minds anymore, children at school are no longer encouraged to learn their tables or to learn poetry; precious little is ever committed to memory, as our technology does it all for us, freeing our minds to watch mindless pap on the TV. We don't write either, holding a pen has become an art form and most people now can type faster than they can form letters in coherent handwriting.
The bulk of the population are cattle to the elite minorities, and are led by the nose into doing exactly what they are supposed to do, whether that be work or not work, fight or not fight and so on.
A few weeks ago, the reputation of politicians in general were in tatters. Those of all political hues were pilloried for being caught with their hands in the till, and top Tories were shown to be working part time in the Commons and the Lords while making money hand over fist in other jobs. That story is no longer newsworthy, the tabloids have forgotten it and so, of course, has Joe public. Poor Joe has the attention span of a newt and the memory of a garden slug. The recent by election in Norfolk saw a swing of 16% towards the Tories. That means that a huge swathe of the electorate has decided that they would like a Tory government again. Joe imagines that the Tories would be better for him and that he and Mrs Joe and the six kids will all benefit from a change. What Joe forgets is that the Tories represent the interests of the elite groups that run the economy, whilst depending on the cattle to stay in their place doing what they are told.
We are a capitalist society, and whichever govenment gets elected will not change that. Govenments sometimes succeed and often fail, and the press loves to focus on the failings producing the terrible see sawing swings from right to left. A change is not necessarily a good thing, but Joe won't mind, by the time of the next election Jhe will have been told what to do.
Most of us are utterly helpless and without the system operating as it does, we'd perish very quickly. Survival skills are something that our distant ancestors once had, but today we have a generation that can operate a remote control but have no idea how to recognise the wildlife that we were once dependent upon. So many skills are vanishing. It struck me yesterday that I don't remember telephone numbers anymore. Why? well one reason is that I don't need to, with all the numbers that I use being pre programmed into the phones. We are not encouraged to use our minds anymore, children at school are no longer encouraged to learn their tables or to learn poetry; precious little is ever committed to memory, as our technology does it all for us, freeing our minds to watch mindless pap on the TV. We don't write either, holding a pen has become an art form and most people now can type faster than they can form letters in coherent handwriting.
The bulk of the population are cattle to the elite minorities, and are led by the nose into doing exactly what they are supposed to do, whether that be work or not work, fight or not fight and so on.
A few weeks ago, the reputation of politicians in general were in tatters. Those of all political hues were pilloried for being caught with their hands in the till, and top Tories were shown to be working part time in the Commons and the Lords while making money hand over fist in other jobs. That story is no longer newsworthy, the tabloids have forgotten it and so, of course, has Joe public. Poor Joe has the attention span of a newt and the memory of a garden slug. The recent by election in Norfolk saw a swing of 16% towards the Tories. That means that a huge swathe of the electorate has decided that they would like a Tory government again. Joe imagines that the Tories would be better for him and that he and Mrs Joe and the six kids will all benefit from a change. What Joe forgets is that the Tories represent the interests of the elite groups that run the economy, whilst depending on the cattle to stay in their place doing what they are told.
We are a capitalist society, and whichever govenment gets elected will not change that. Govenments sometimes succeed and often fail, and the press loves to focus on the failings producing the terrible see sawing swings from right to left. A change is not necessarily a good thing, but Joe won't mind, by the time of the next election Jhe will have been told what to do.
Thursday 23 July 2009
Singing
There are few sounds as sweet and evocative as a skylark singing as it hovers above its territory in the early morning. Such things were once common, and when the world was a quieter place we were surrounded by the songs of so many different birds. If you take the trouble, you can learn to recognise each of them and that can enrich your days.
Singing is very important. Birds sing for many reasons, but mainly it is about territory or attracting a mate. Humans too sing for many reasons. We sing to our children to soothe them or to entertain them or even to encourage them. Children are naturally musical and love to make noises. Children in primary schools sing heartily, be it hymns or just songs for the sake of it. When I started teaching, kids even sang in school assemblies.
I used to love singing. I remember the school radio programmes, "Singing Together" and "Rhythm and Melody", both of which were highlights of my primary school education. When i went to Grammar school, one of my favourite lessons was music, and in those lessons we would sing as well as listen to wonderful music that was food for my imagination.
I even joined the school choir, well ok it was because there were lots of girls there, but I did enjoy a good sing. We'd do the odd concert and of course the annual carol concert, and I can still remember the thrills of being part of a massive and wonderful sound.
I sang through college. I was a member of the folk club, and we'd always sing along to the popular songs. I met Annie and together we'd sing for hours, in her room or in mine and eventually she persuaded me to join her singing at other folk clubs and even in the college revue. The feeling of holding an audience and receiving applause was like a drug and left us wanting to do it again and again.
I left college and when I came to the Island, joined the local choir. We'd perform several times a year and though I never learned to read music, I loved the challenge of new pieces and working towards the final production.
The human voice has tremendous power. It can infuriate, enrage, enthuse, and enrapture. It can motivate, move, and communicate emotions. Singing gives one a freedom of expression and allows one to vent and release. It is a liberating experience and is part of being human. Some people have the most wonderful voices; my friend Holly is one example. Her voice has the ability to reduce me to tears and that takes some doing.
I think back to my boyhood and the solitary wanderings through the countryside, and i can hear the skylark as clearly as if it were real. I can smell the grass and the wild flowers and feel the sun on my skin. I knew the sounds of all the birds then, but I have forgotten many things, including how to sing.
Singing is very important. Birds sing for many reasons, but mainly it is about territory or attracting a mate. Humans too sing for many reasons. We sing to our children to soothe them or to entertain them or even to encourage them. Children are naturally musical and love to make noises. Children in primary schools sing heartily, be it hymns or just songs for the sake of it. When I started teaching, kids even sang in school assemblies.
I used to love singing. I remember the school radio programmes, "Singing Together" and "Rhythm and Melody", both of which were highlights of my primary school education. When i went to Grammar school, one of my favourite lessons was music, and in those lessons we would sing as well as listen to wonderful music that was food for my imagination.
I even joined the school choir, well ok it was because there were lots of girls there, but I did enjoy a good sing. We'd do the odd concert and of course the annual carol concert, and I can still remember the thrills of being part of a massive and wonderful sound.
I sang through college. I was a member of the folk club, and we'd always sing along to the popular songs. I met Annie and together we'd sing for hours, in her room or in mine and eventually she persuaded me to join her singing at other folk clubs and even in the college revue. The feeling of holding an audience and receiving applause was like a drug and left us wanting to do it again and again.
I left college and when I came to the Island, joined the local choir. We'd perform several times a year and though I never learned to read music, I loved the challenge of new pieces and working towards the final production.
The human voice has tremendous power. It can infuriate, enrage, enthuse, and enrapture. It can motivate, move, and communicate emotions. Singing gives one a freedom of expression and allows one to vent and release. It is a liberating experience and is part of being human. Some people have the most wonderful voices; my friend Holly is one example. Her voice has the ability to reduce me to tears and that takes some doing.
I think back to my boyhood and the solitary wanderings through the countryside, and i can hear the skylark as clearly as if it were real. I can smell the grass and the wild flowers and feel the sun on my skin. I knew the sounds of all the birds then, but I have forgotten many things, including how to sing.
Wednesday 22 July 2009
The Pub
An alarming story in the news today. Allegedly pubs in this country are closing at the rate of 52 a week. At that rate there will be none left in a year or two.
The British Pub has changed considerably in my lifetime. I seem to recall that when I was a child, they were generally the province of the male, where adult men would gather in darkened smoky rooms to socialise. Some pubs welcomed women but mostly lone women were treated with suspicion, and in those days, probably for good reason. For kids they were mysterious places where we were most definitely NOT welcome at all.
My childhood memories of pubs were very limited to family days out. Always a coach trip, and always the coach would take longer to get home than it did to get wherever we went. The reason being the frequent stops en route so that the adults could go to a pub. We kids would be left in the bus with a few disapproving women usually, and might be provided with a bottle of vimto and a bag of crisps if we were lucky, but often it was just a case of waiting for the adults to return, smelling of smoke and beer. Pub toilets were always outside and rarely cleaned but we did have access if desperate. Pub food was crisps, pickled eggs and pork pies, and in those days there were no sell by dates or refrigeration units.
Every village had it's pub and they managed to survive without all of the modern advantages. They were even very limited in the times they could open. A couple of hours at lunchtime and from six to ten thirty at night. The village policeman would patrol soon after closing time to make sure that this was properly adhered to. Even so the pub, like the shop and the post office were focal points of village life and even teenagers unable to get served in the pub would congregate in that vicinity.
Now every pub serves food, does not allow smoking, permits the presence of kids and sells a vast range of beverages including tea and coffee, and yet it would appear that many pubs are stuggling to survive. I bought a round of drinks the other night that only weeks ago had cost me nine pounds and yet this week it was over eleven. The price of alcoholic drinks has rocketed and of course the price of the non alcoholic alternatives has shot up too. Food in pubs is no longer a cheap option and the presence of kids does nothing to enhance the experience. For what one pays for five drinks these days, one can, in the supermarket, buy three bottles of wine or several packs of strong lager or cider, and that of course is what people are resorting to. It is cheaper by far to drink anywhere but the pub, and with takeaway kebabs springing up all over like mosques, those on low incomes are going for the alternatives.
Of course there are always the Weatherspoons pubs, that buy their beer in bulk and sell it at vastly reduced priced. These places also do very cheap food and have huge barn-like buildings with no character whatever, but they do allow punters to get drunk quite cheaply and are therefore doing a roaring trade.
Reducing the tax on alcohol would be catastrophic in a land where alcohol related disease and crime are at an all time high, and so the future of the pub seems pretty bleak. Of course there will be those that survive, but for many people they will become no go areas on the basis of cost, Weatherspoons excluded.
The British Pub has changed considerably in my lifetime. I seem to recall that when I was a child, they were generally the province of the male, where adult men would gather in darkened smoky rooms to socialise. Some pubs welcomed women but mostly lone women were treated with suspicion, and in those days, probably for good reason. For kids they were mysterious places where we were most definitely NOT welcome at all.
My childhood memories of pubs were very limited to family days out. Always a coach trip, and always the coach would take longer to get home than it did to get wherever we went. The reason being the frequent stops en route so that the adults could go to a pub. We kids would be left in the bus with a few disapproving women usually, and might be provided with a bottle of vimto and a bag of crisps if we were lucky, but often it was just a case of waiting for the adults to return, smelling of smoke and beer. Pub toilets were always outside and rarely cleaned but we did have access if desperate. Pub food was crisps, pickled eggs and pork pies, and in those days there were no sell by dates or refrigeration units.
Every village had it's pub and they managed to survive without all of the modern advantages. They were even very limited in the times they could open. A couple of hours at lunchtime and from six to ten thirty at night. The village policeman would patrol soon after closing time to make sure that this was properly adhered to. Even so the pub, like the shop and the post office were focal points of village life and even teenagers unable to get served in the pub would congregate in that vicinity.
Now every pub serves food, does not allow smoking, permits the presence of kids and sells a vast range of beverages including tea and coffee, and yet it would appear that many pubs are stuggling to survive. I bought a round of drinks the other night that only weeks ago had cost me nine pounds and yet this week it was over eleven. The price of alcoholic drinks has rocketed and of course the price of the non alcoholic alternatives has shot up too. Food in pubs is no longer a cheap option and the presence of kids does nothing to enhance the experience. For what one pays for five drinks these days, one can, in the supermarket, buy three bottles of wine or several packs of strong lager or cider, and that of course is what people are resorting to. It is cheaper by far to drink anywhere but the pub, and with takeaway kebabs springing up all over like mosques, those on low incomes are going for the alternatives.
Of course there are always the Weatherspoons pubs, that buy their beer in bulk and sell it at vastly reduced priced. These places also do very cheap food and have huge barn-like buildings with no character whatever, but they do allow punters to get drunk quite cheaply and are therefore doing a roaring trade.
Reducing the tax on alcohol would be catastrophic in a land where alcohol related disease and crime are at an all time high, and so the future of the pub seems pretty bleak. Of course there will be those that survive, but for many people they will become no go areas on the basis of cost, Weatherspoons excluded.
Monday 20 July 2009
Ephemerata
At the start of the British Open Golf Championship this weekend, Tom Watson was a 1500-1 outsider, and I would guess that very few backed him to win. And yet he led the last round to the final hole where he dropped a shot and then had to face a further four difficult holes in a play off.
Stuart Cink had almost come back from the dead to match his score and I felt sorry for this guy who had spoiled the party for the fifty nine year old Watson who would clearly have been the most popular winner of all time. That however was not to be and as the four holes progressed and Watson's game fell apart, the crowd was almost silent and the atmosphere, which until the play off began had been electric, began to die along with Watson's ability to play golf. It seemed that his batteries had just run low, he had given his all in the previous 72 holes and just had nothing left. Cink played brilliantly, and although he did get generous applause on the final green as his putt dropped into the hole, the 2009 Open will be remembered as Watson's swansong.
Everyone seems to like the underdog, and this could be seen as a flaw in society. We build people up to become champions, putting them on the highest of pedestals and once they are there, the media lead the mob into trying to bring them down again. It seems that we like winners, but only for a while. Winners that keep on winning lose their appeal and then we love nothing more than to see them fall., and the media love to give them a shove at every available opportunity.
We are a society of ephemerata if that is a word. Everything has to be short term as attention spans have become so short and change is foisted upon us at every turn. Fashion houses make their fortunes by changing every five minutes, electronic goods are evolving so fast that as soon as you buy something it has become obsolete. We don't repair things any more as it is generally cheaper to replace things. About the only things that last these days are people, and sadly as we get older it becomes more and more difficult to embrace the changes that we face. Technology drives the economy and it seems that it has advanced way beyond most people's ability to cope with it.
Tom Watson has lasted the course. At nearly sixty, it is unlikely that he will ever be so close to the top of the pile again, and I imagine that he will have very mixed feelings about his weekend. The huge cheque for second place will be some consolation for what might have been.
Stuart Cink had almost come back from the dead to match his score and I felt sorry for this guy who had spoiled the party for the fifty nine year old Watson who would clearly have been the most popular winner of all time. That however was not to be and as the four holes progressed and Watson's game fell apart, the crowd was almost silent and the atmosphere, which until the play off began had been electric, began to die along with Watson's ability to play golf. It seemed that his batteries had just run low, he had given his all in the previous 72 holes and just had nothing left. Cink played brilliantly, and although he did get generous applause on the final green as his putt dropped into the hole, the 2009 Open will be remembered as Watson's swansong.
Everyone seems to like the underdog, and this could be seen as a flaw in society. We build people up to become champions, putting them on the highest of pedestals and once they are there, the media lead the mob into trying to bring them down again. It seems that we like winners, but only for a while. Winners that keep on winning lose their appeal and then we love nothing more than to see them fall., and the media love to give them a shove at every available opportunity.
We are a society of ephemerata if that is a word. Everything has to be short term as attention spans have become so short and change is foisted upon us at every turn. Fashion houses make their fortunes by changing every five minutes, electronic goods are evolving so fast that as soon as you buy something it has become obsolete. We don't repair things any more as it is generally cheaper to replace things. About the only things that last these days are people, and sadly as we get older it becomes more and more difficult to embrace the changes that we face. Technology drives the economy and it seems that it has advanced way beyond most people's ability to cope with it.
Tom Watson has lasted the course. At nearly sixty, it is unlikely that he will ever be so close to the top of the pile again, and I imagine that he will have very mixed feelings about his weekend. The huge cheque for second place will be some consolation for what might have been.
Saturday 18 July 2009
Goldfish
having the memory of a goldfish with A.D.D. or whatever the label is these days, is a distinct disadvantage. That coupled with an innate laziness and inability to organise myself means that I have a tendency to repeat myself. I have been told about this and i do try hard to be original but alas, there are memories that come and go like Jehova's Witnesses.
I have to admit a certain admiration for these people. They have the balls to turn up on the doorstep, usually at the most inconvenient time, they hand out the most badly produced and ridiculous literature and have nothing with which to back up the silly notions that they try to feed people. They must take a lot of abuse, which they probably deserve, and yet they come back over and over again, thinking that this time it may be different. Rather like the way that spiders rebuild their webs again and again, regardless of the frequency with which they get destroyed.
I have taught a number of witnesses over the years and those that I had dealings with were highly intelligent and lovely people, who could easily have continued their education to university and beyond. The family that I am thinking of were among the smartest kids I ever met, and yet they left school at 16, as far as I know, in order to continue the work of trying to convert others.
I often wonder what their success rate is or if they even care. I see the same faces, treading the same paths and you can watch local residents vanish into their houses as they progress up the street. I always give them the time of day and would never dream of abusing them and yet I cringe when I open the door to them. What drives them to believe in a book with such a blinkered and literal faith is beyond me. We often hear of children dying because their parents do not believe in blood transfusion, and that is due to one person's understanding of probably a single biblical statement.
I didn't set out to talk about religious issues today, i have probably done that before. What i write is usually just a stream of consciousness and for that I make no apology. One of the only advantages of getting older is that once ceases to care what other people think.
I have to admit a certain admiration for these people. They have the balls to turn up on the doorstep, usually at the most inconvenient time, they hand out the most badly produced and ridiculous literature and have nothing with which to back up the silly notions that they try to feed people. They must take a lot of abuse, which they probably deserve, and yet they come back over and over again, thinking that this time it may be different. Rather like the way that spiders rebuild their webs again and again, regardless of the frequency with which they get destroyed.
I have taught a number of witnesses over the years and those that I had dealings with were highly intelligent and lovely people, who could easily have continued their education to university and beyond. The family that I am thinking of were among the smartest kids I ever met, and yet they left school at 16, as far as I know, in order to continue the work of trying to convert others.
I often wonder what their success rate is or if they even care. I see the same faces, treading the same paths and you can watch local residents vanish into their houses as they progress up the street. I always give them the time of day and would never dream of abusing them and yet I cringe when I open the door to them. What drives them to believe in a book with such a blinkered and literal faith is beyond me. We often hear of children dying because their parents do not believe in blood transfusion, and that is due to one person's understanding of probably a single biblical statement.
I didn't set out to talk about religious issues today, i have probably done that before. What i write is usually just a stream of consciousness and for that I make no apology. One of the only advantages of getting older is that once ceases to care what other people think.
Thursday 16 July 2009
Are we all paedophiles?
Newish government regulations have made it necessary for artists and other regular visitors to schools to become registered, and probably vetted as a means of protecting our children.
Now before I go on, I do believe that children need protecting from predators but I don’t believe that there are significantly more of them than there were when I was a kid. Even in the small village that I was dragged up in there were weirdos, including the farmer who’d often present his meat to passing girls, and the Desperate Dan lookalike with his permanent five o’clock shadow who loved to walk around after dark in his wife’s clothes. As far as I know, neither of them ever did anyone any harm. The kids of the village just saw them as figures of fun and the village tolerated them.
Bringing talented people into schools has so many benefits. An enthusiast can inspire and encourage the development of budding talents or even show that there is more to life than what they have so far experienced. The outcome of this legislation, I am sure will be a reduction in the numbers of those willing to go into schools. Schools, like playgrounds and other areas where children gather are becoming no go areas for adults, especially men, and that is very sad. From a personal point of view, I will avoid other people’s children more or less, and have no wish to be in places where they are likely to be. I feel uncomfortable carrying my camera around children, and I would have to think long and hard before going to the aid of a child in distress or even reprimand a child that was doing wrong. I would imagine that most adult males probably feel very much the same.
So, our children have become untouchable and even unapproachable. Each day they are herded into hermetically sealed, sterile classrooms and exposed to a bland and dull school curriculum. They are sheltered from the realities of life, fed processed food and a diet of awful television. Girls are forced by the advertisers to grow up long before they are ready, and boys exposed to an alien culture that worships indolence, violence and all that is opposite to excellence.
There are so many things that our children need protecting from. Poets, artists and authors are not amongst them.
Now before I go on, I do believe that children need protecting from predators but I don’t believe that there are significantly more of them than there were when I was a kid. Even in the small village that I was dragged up in there were weirdos, including the farmer who’d often present his meat to passing girls, and the Desperate Dan lookalike with his permanent five o’clock shadow who loved to walk around after dark in his wife’s clothes. As far as I know, neither of them ever did anyone any harm. The kids of the village just saw them as figures of fun and the village tolerated them.
Bringing talented people into schools has so many benefits. An enthusiast can inspire and encourage the development of budding talents or even show that there is more to life than what they have so far experienced. The outcome of this legislation, I am sure will be a reduction in the numbers of those willing to go into schools. Schools, like playgrounds and other areas where children gather are becoming no go areas for adults, especially men, and that is very sad. From a personal point of view, I will avoid other people’s children more or less, and have no wish to be in places where they are likely to be. I feel uncomfortable carrying my camera around children, and I would have to think long and hard before going to the aid of a child in distress or even reprimand a child that was doing wrong. I would imagine that most adult males probably feel very much the same.
So, our children have become untouchable and even unapproachable. Each day they are herded into hermetically sealed, sterile classrooms and exposed to a bland and dull school curriculum. They are sheltered from the realities of life, fed processed food and a diet of awful television. Girls are forced by the advertisers to grow up long before they are ready, and boys exposed to an alien culture that worships indolence, violence and all that is opposite to excellence.
There are so many things that our children need protecting from. Poets, artists and authors are not amongst them.
Tuesday 14 July 2009
A fete worse than death - sorry about that!
One of the nicer British traditions and one that highlighted village life, was the annual village fete. In the olden days when I was alive, this was a big thing and was months in the preparation. The traditional fete was a way of raising funds, for goodness knows what but i always suspected that it kept the vicar in booze for the year. It brought much of the village together and in our village it was always held on the Vicarage lawn. Visiting there even for the fete was always a nervy thing. The vicars garden also had a lot of hazel nut trees and each autumn, that was a target for us. We were often spotted by him but never caught and we always hoped not to be remembered when we turned up officially. Our fears were groundless but real at the time. Anyhow that is by the by and I was talking of the fete. It was always a busy and crowded affair with stalls ranging from bric-a-brac, home made produce, book stalls, jumble, and bottle stalls. There was bowling, a guess the weight of the pig competition and as the posters always said, much much more. It was a time when everyone gave away the things that they no longer wanted and came home with replacement rubbish, or if you were lucky a raffle prize or something alcoholic on the bottle store. I always wondered what happened to the pig though. Some fetes were much bigger and grander than ours and we'd visit these if we could cycle that far.
The reason i am writing about this is partly due to my mind being almost empty and partly because the fete is dying out. It is on it's last legs because of health and safety. These days there is little that one is allowed to do freely and organised gatherings like this are scrutinised by the H and S people to the extent that huge insurance is required in case little Freddie gets bitten by the pig and catches pig pox, or the vicar gets hit by stray bowls or the whole village dies from food poisoning because of Mrs Jones' home made cakes. I suppose riots could break out on the croquet lawn - it wouldn't be the first time after all. Health and safety is a concept devised by insurance companies, and they are dragging us all into a mire of mediocrity where no-one ever dares take a risk and that is one of the biggest tragedies of the modern world.
The reason i am writing about this is partly due to my mind being almost empty and partly because the fete is dying out. It is on it's last legs because of health and safety. These days there is little that one is allowed to do freely and organised gatherings like this are scrutinised by the H and S people to the extent that huge insurance is required in case little Freddie gets bitten by the pig and catches pig pox, or the vicar gets hit by stray bowls or the whole village dies from food poisoning because of Mrs Jones' home made cakes. I suppose riots could break out on the croquet lawn - it wouldn't be the first time after all. Health and safety is a concept devised by insurance companies, and they are dragging us all into a mire of mediocrity where no-one ever dares take a risk and that is one of the biggest tragedies of the modern world.
Monday 13 July 2009
The long arm
They say that the law is an ass. Oh we need laws in order that society can operate in a civilised and balanced fashion, but some of the laws that we live with are at best stupid and at worst unworkable. Laws are laid down in Parliament and ratified by the unelected upper classes, and more and more rules and regulations get added to the statute books with each passing day.
Laws are introduced to maintain some sort of status quo or to protect various groups within society and because the world is changing, the laws need to be juggled to allow for this change. It would seem logical then that out of date or inappropriate laws would be removed or made null and void but this does not seem to happen. The books get thicker and thicker and the job of enforcing those laws gets more and more complex.
I am no expert in these things and as ever I may well be talking complete rubbish but as far as i know, it is illegal to urinate in the street. Now that is sensible unless one is driven by desperation and lack of public utilities. The thought of streets running in pee is not an appealing one and so most people abide by this. Allegedly however there is a loophole in this law that dates back to the days when we all drove carts. Should one get caught short, it is still legal to relieve oneself against one of the wheels of your vehicle. However I can't remember which one and so there is a 75% chance that I'd be breaking the law if I tried it.
Another silly and unenforcable law forbids the purchaser of a book or other copyrighted material from lending that item to another person. This does not apply to libraries but in principle each time I borrow or lend a book I am breaking the law. The laws on sunday trading are ridiculous and date back to the days when people went to church before going to the pub and didn't want alcohol to be available to the unbelievers while they were on their knees.
There must be dozens of ways that each of us breaks the law on a day to day basis and i suppose that it is just as well that the average bobby is as ignorant of the law as most of us.
Laws are introduced to maintain some sort of status quo or to protect various groups within society and because the world is changing, the laws need to be juggled to allow for this change. It would seem logical then that out of date or inappropriate laws would be removed or made null and void but this does not seem to happen. The books get thicker and thicker and the job of enforcing those laws gets more and more complex.
I am no expert in these things and as ever I may well be talking complete rubbish but as far as i know, it is illegal to urinate in the street. Now that is sensible unless one is driven by desperation and lack of public utilities. The thought of streets running in pee is not an appealing one and so most people abide by this. Allegedly however there is a loophole in this law that dates back to the days when we all drove carts. Should one get caught short, it is still legal to relieve oneself against one of the wheels of your vehicle. However I can't remember which one and so there is a 75% chance that I'd be breaking the law if I tried it.
Another silly and unenforcable law forbids the purchaser of a book or other copyrighted material from lending that item to another person. This does not apply to libraries but in principle each time I borrow or lend a book I am breaking the law. The laws on sunday trading are ridiculous and date back to the days when people went to church before going to the pub and didn't want alcohol to be available to the unbelievers while they were on their knees.
There must be dozens of ways that each of us breaks the law on a day to day basis and i suppose that it is just as well that the average bobby is as ignorant of the law as most of us.
Saturday 11 July 2009
Come back bees - all is forgiven
It's saturday and I'd like to say that the sun is shining but it isn't, and neither is it raining. So we have the worst of both worlds - bad weather and a drought. The garden is a mess as ther is too much to keep watered and worse, there seems to be a distinct lack of honey bees. There are plenty of flowers on the tomatoes and the beans but few are setting and that gives cause for concern. Bees are declining all over the world and this is going to have major implications for food supplies. Much of the food that we take for granted depends on bees.
From a biological point of view, a beehive containing a colony of bees, is rather akin to a single organism. They are truly social animals and utterly dependent upon each other for survival. Only one member of the colony is able to reproduce, and she can produce tw types of offspring. The female eggs that she lays are unfertilized and produce the worker bees, the ones that we are so dependent upon, while mating with a male allows her to lay fertilized eggs that produce the drones, or male bees that are essential for the production of further males. It would seem that it is a community that is totally dominated by the females, and that the males are tolerated and even nurtured.
This week saw the announcement of a successful attempt to produce sperms from embryonic stem cells. Stem cells can be extracted from a variety of tissues and for the first time in history, the role of the male as a donor of sperm is in serious jeopardy - or is it? The notion that all future offspring will be produced from synthetic sperm cells, genetically manipulated to produce perfect offspring is the stuff of nightmares, and yet the potential for that looms large. Potential however is not the same as reality. I was always told that I had potential and yet I never came to much!
From a biological point of view, a beehive containing a colony of bees, is rather akin to a single organism. They are truly social animals and utterly dependent upon each other for survival. Only one member of the colony is able to reproduce, and she can produce tw types of offspring. The female eggs that she lays are unfertilized and produce the worker bees, the ones that we are so dependent upon, while mating with a male allows her to lay fertilized eggs that produce the drones, or male bees that are essential for the production of further males. It would seem that it is a community that is totally dominated by the females, and that the males are tolerated and even nurtured.
This week saw the announcement of a successful attempt to produce sperms from embryonic stem cells. Stem cells can be extracted from a variety of tissues and for the first time in history, the role of the male as a donor of sperm is in serious jeopardy - or is it? The notion that all future offspring will be produced from synthetic sperm cells, genetically manipulated to produce perfect offspring is the stuff of nightmares, and yet the potential for that looms large. Potential however is not the same as reality. I was always told that I had potential and yet I never came to much!
Thursday 9 July 2009
Addictions
I have a friend, who was known to take days off work to play a computer game. That one happened to be Tomb Raider, a wonderfully inventive virtual adventure where the character of Lara Croft battles her way through a linear series of puzzles and adventures, killing and destroying as she goes. When i was working, I never saw the attraction of these games and my attention span was about the same length as my reaction time. Nowadays i have plenty of time on my hands and I find that these things are becoming more and more attractive.
My current game of choice, having completed the last Tomb Raider game with huge enjoyment is a golf simulation. I do not spend all day on it but try to play once a day even if only for half an hour. I do enjoy it thoroughly especially as it offers a challenge and i don't find it at all easy. I can pretend that I am on the golf course and that is rather sad in a way because most days, I could be on the actual golf course.
I can understand how people become addicted to these things, and from an outsiders point of view, it must be odd for someone of my advancing years to be in possession of one games console let alone three. The latest buy was a Nintendo Wii, not my decision I might add, just that someone wanted to get fit and this seems to be the universal panacaea for those who don't much like exercise but can go through the motions in the front room. It is fascinating though how Nintendo have become so health and safety conscious - wrist straps so that you can't let go of the hand sets and jelly casings in case you hit anything or anyone with them, as well as safety warnings onscreen all of the time. Rather takes the edge off i think.
I do not have an addictive personality. I gave up smoking easily and can take or leave alcoholic beverages, though i do prefer to take them, and I don't do drugs. I tried pot a few times but last time it made me feel sick. I know that I am lucky in that respect and that there are others less fortunate. I wonder if my friend is still sneaking days off work to play games?
My current game of choice, having completed the last Tomb Raider game with huge enjoyment is a golf simulation. I do not spend all day on it but try to play once a day even if only for half an hour. I do enjoy it thoroughly especially as it offers a challenge and i don't find it at all easy. I can pretend that I am on the golf course and that is rather sad in a way because most days, I could be on the actual golf course.
I can understand how people become addicted to these things, and from an outsiders point of view, it must be odd for someone of my advancing years to be in possession of one games console let alone three. The latest buy was a Nintendo Wii, not my decision I might add, just that someone wanted to get fit and this seems to be the universal panacaea for those who don't much like exercise but can go through the motions in the front room. It is fascinating though how Nintendo have become so health and safety conscious - wrist straps so that you can't let go of the hand sets and jelly casings in case you hit anything or anyone with them, as well as safety warnings onscreen all of the time. Rather takes the edge off i think.
I do not have an addictive personality. I gave up smoking easily and can take or leave alcoholic beverages, though i do prefer to take them, and I don't do drugs. I tried pot a few times but last time it made me feel sick. I know that I am lucky in that respect and that there are others less fortunate. I wonder if my friend is still sneaking days off work to play games?
Wednesday 8 July 2009
People are bloody ignorant apes
The characters Estragon and Vladimir in Beckett's Waiting for Godot had little time or respect for humanity. They had seen it all and waited interminably for something else. Bloody ignorant apes, were what people were described as, and Beckett wasn't far wrong.
There used to be a computer game called Lemmings, in which you led herds of these strange animals through a series of obstacles, attempting to save as many as you could. They all followed their leader of course and frequently to their own oblivious fate. As computer games go it was quite good fun and rather addictive as well as being a wonderful analogy.
This week I was reminded of lemmings on several occasions. The first was when the grossly overpaid football player Christiano Ronaldo was introduced to his new team mates. 80,000 fans turned up to the stadium to witness a shaking of hands. 80,000 is a lot of people and one must assume that many took a day off work and travelled long distances simply to witness a shaking of hands - bloody hell it wasn't even a wedding!
Then there has been the Michael Jackson hysteria, with tens of thousands desperately trying to get tickets for his farewell bash, queuing for hours and some spending vast amounts of money for tickets, floral tributes etc. There have been public displays of grief and mass wailing and gnashing of teeth, especially in this country when normally anyone even marginally associated with charges of paedophilia are publically pilloried. Mobs will descend on the houses of suspected abusers and literally run them out of town, and yet the same people will worship at the feet of someone like this.
Thirdly there has been the uprising of the Muslim minority group in China, demanding that they be recognised and given autonomy. These peaceful and forgiving people ran riot in the streets killing and wounding many that might have disagreed with them, and in return have been beaten back into submission. Anyone in their right mind would know that you can't do that sort of thing in China of all places, look at their track record in other regions and especially in Tianamen square, after which a lot of protesters strangely disappeared.
Mobs need leaders and some people are so easily led. The less you know the easier that becomes and keeping people ignorant is a very real political strategy.
Overall the Lemmings have had an active week and have as is always the case done what they have been expected to.
There used to be a computer game called Lemmings, in which you led herds of these strange animals through a series of obstacles, attempting to save as many as you could. They all followed their leader of course and frequently to their own oblivious fate. As computer games go it was quite good fun and rather addictive as well as being a wonderful analogy.
This week I was reminded of lemmings on several occasions. The first was when the grossly overpaid football player Christiano Ronaldo was introduced to his new team mates. 80,000 fans turned up to the stadium to witness a shaking of hands. 80,000 is a lot of people and one must assume that many took a day off work and travelled long distances simply to witness a shaking of hands - bloody hell it wasn't even a wedding!
Then there has been the Michael Jackson hysteria, with tens of thousands desperately trying to get tickets for his farewell bash, queuing for hours and some spending vast amounts of money for tickets, floral tributes etc. There have been public displays of grief and mass wailing and gnashing of teeth, especially in this country when normally anyone even marginally associated with charges of paedophilia are publically pilloried. Mobs will descend on the houses of suspected abusers and literally run them out of town, and yet the same people will worship at the feet of someone like this.
Thirdly there has been the uprising of the Muslim minority group in China, demanding that they be recognised and given autonomy. These peaceful and forgiving people ran riot in the streets killing and wounding many that might have disagreed with them, and in return have been beaten back into submission. Anyone in their right mind would know that you can't do that sort of thing in China of all places, look at their track record in other regions and especially in Tianamen square, after which a lot of protesters strangely disappeared.
Mobs need leaders and some people are so easily led. The less you know the easier that becomes and keeping people ignorant is a very real political strategy.
Overall the Lemmings have had an active week and have as is always the case done what they have been expected to.
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