We have been quite quiet for the last few months. This has not been because we have not been thinking: we have been far too much of that. It is because our lives have been changing.
The editorship of this blog is now moving on - it will increasingly be coming from my pen - and, as we face the most divisive and unpleasant election of recent years, it will no doubt become more political. One of the first new themes will be They Just Don't Get It as we all struggle to survive the onslaught of pre-election announcement after announcement, boiled down into ridiculous, unbelievable, and certainly undeliverable, promises and sound-bites.
But the essence will remain the same: the desire to point up muddled thinking, to understand the motivations, strategies and tactics of the players, and to poke fun at the illogicalities of modern life.
A key inspiration is provided by a a website entitled 'Now write about it'. This is designed to encourage literacy. I am just seeking to refine and capture ideas in diary form.
Monday, 19 January 2015
Monday, 12 January 2015
Depicting famous people
The events surrounding the shootings at Charlie Hebdo were horrific. It is incomprehensible to liberal Western traditions that the depiction of someone in a cartoon should lead to the killing of the cartoonist. There was enough furore after the 'Danish cartoon' a couple of years ago - which was re-printed in Charlie Hebdo - but nothing like this.
The sin, if sin it was, was to depict the prophet. 'Islamic tradition' - not Islamic law - forbids the portrayal of the prophet or any of his companions. This ban led to a flourishing of calligraphy and other recognisable features of the Islamic art.
Where would Christianity be without its depiction of its prophets? The Renaissance would simply never have happened and our great art galleries would be empty. You could get burned at the stake for suggesting the sun was at the centre of the solar system and the same would have probably awaited you had you produced a satirical cartoon of a religious figure. Thankfully printing was in its infancy and Private Eye and Charlie Hebdo did not exist.
By the time of the Enlightenment, things were rather more relaxed.
North Korea clearly feels as sensitive as the terrorists if the fuss about The Interview is anything to go by. Having initially reeled from the hacking, Sony strengthened their sinews and issued the film having had the best publicity it could have hoped for. Sony 1, North Korea 0.
The newspapers were clearly feeling emboldened for the following appeared on a BBC website today, a week after the Charlie Hebdo events:
The Big Kim?
A suggestion that North Korea is keen on opening a restaurant in Scotland gives sub-editors plenty of punning opportunities.
"Kim dine with me," says the Daily Star, playing on the name of the reclusive state's "tubby tyrant", Kim Jong-un, as it suggests that dog meat soup and pine-nut gruel would be on the menu. The paper explains that a Pyongyang-backed restaurant is already open in Amsterdam, channelling 30% of its profits back to the state, and that Kim has "warmed" to Scotland because of its independence campaign.
The Daily Mirror dresses up the "supreme leader" in a tartan hat and ginger wig, renaming him "Kim Jock-un". Its effort at a "McJong's" menu includes Kim sum, Pyong lamb and spotted dictator. It says the North Korean leader has "fallen in love with all things Scottish, particularly whisky".
"See you Kimmy," is the headline in the Sun, which also pictures Kim in a bonnet, declaring: "I'm the Supreme Eater." That paper's idea of North Korean fine dining includes barbecued mollusc and cold noodles, washed down with an aphrodisiac made from bear's bile.
This is indeed fighting talk. It is clear that the three papers are keen to be seen not being cowed.
A tourism leaflet for a park in Budapest shows how we can prick pomposity. No one is currently holding up Socialist Russia as a paragon of virtue or feels strongly enough to respond and the leaflet is therefore free to mock the statues with no risk of causing offence. Offence turns to farce. Refreshing and revolutionary stuff.
The sin, if sin it was, was to depict the prophet. 'Islamic tradition' - not Islamic law - forbids the portrayal of the prophet or any of his companions. This ban led to a flourishing of calligraphy and other recognisable features of the Islamic art.
Where would Christianity be without its depiction of its prophets? The Renaissance would simply never have happened and our great art galleries would be empty. You could get burned at the stake for suggesting the sun was at the centre of the solar system and the same would have probably awaited you had you produced a satirical cartoon of a religious figure. Thankfully printing was in its infancy and Private Eye and Charlie Hebdo did not exist.
By the time of the Enlightenment, things were rather more relaxed.
North Korea clearly feels as sensitive as the terrorists if the fuss about The Interview is anything to go by. Having initially reeled from the hacking, Sony strengthened their sinews and issued the film having had the best publicity it could have hoped for. Sony 1, North Korea 0.
The newspapers were clearly feeling emboldened for the following appeared on a BBC website today, a week after the Charlie Hebdo events:
The Big Kim?
A suggestion that North Korea is keen on opening a restaurant in Scotland gives sub-editors plenty of punning opportunities.
"Kim dine with me," says the Daily Star, playing on the name of the reclusive state's "tubby tyrant", Kim Jong-un, as it suggests that dog meat soup and pine-nut gruel would be on the menu. The paper explains that a Pyongyang-backed restaurant is already open in Amsterdam, channelling 30% of its profits back to the state, and that Kim has "warmed" to Scotland because of its independence campaign.
The Daily Mirror dresses up the "supreme leader" in a tartan hat and ginger wig, renaming him "Kim Jock-un". Its effort at a "McJong's" menu includes Kim sum, Pyong lamb and spotted dictator. It says the North Korean leader has "fallen in love with all things Scottish, particularly whisky".
"See you Kimmy," is the headline in the Sun, which also pictures Kim in a bonnet, declaring: "I'm the Supreme Eater." That paper's idea of North Korean fine dining includes barbecued mollusc and cold noodles, washed down with an aphrodisiac made from bear's bile.
This is indeed fighting talk. It is clear that the three papers are keen to be seen not being cowed.
A tourism leaflet for a park in Budapest shows how we can prick pomposity. No one is currently holding up Socialist Russia as a paragon of virtue or feels strongly enough to respond and the leaflet is therefore free to mock the statues with no risk of causing offence. Offence turns to farce. Refreshing and revolutionary stuff.
 |
 |
Tuesday, 16 September 2014
World War 1 again
The commemoration of World War I became temporarily marred when Michael Gove suggested that there was too much criticism of the leaders of the time.
This encouraged us to go back and look at that excellent book written by military historian and advocate of the tank, Liddell Hart. His History of the First World War (it had a different title at the time) was written in 1930.
In it, he lists endless examples of people who were sacked for being right, only to be replaced by people who seem to have done exactly what their predecessors proposed. Granted, he claims the French were better at this than the British but there were plenty of British examples too, not least the early advocates of the tank.
His epilogue is objective and generous to all participants. It includes this wonderful passage which seems to be just the sort of thing to get up Mr Gove's nose.
In this mood of reflection we are more ready to recognise both the achievements and the point of view of our late enemies, and perhaps all the more because we realise that both the causes and the course of war are determined by the folly and frailty rather than the deliberate evil of human nature.
The war has become history, and can be viewed in the perspective of history. For good it has deepened our sense of fellowship and community of interest, whether inside the nation or between nations. But, for good or bad, it has shattered our faith in idols, our hero-worshipping belief that great men are different clay from common men. Leaders are still necessary, perhaps more necessary, but our awakened realisation of the common humanity is a safe guard against either expecting from them or trusting in them too much.
Have we really learned that great men are not different clay from common men? Have we really learned not to expect too much of them, or not to trust them too much? I am sure it felt that way when he was writing in 1930.
And what of the idea that the causes and course of war are determined by folly and frailty rather than the deliberate evil of human nature? Would he have agreed with this when he wrote his other great book: the History of the Second World War?
This encouraged us to go back and look at that excellent book written by military historian and advocate of the tank, Liddell Hart. His History of the First World War (it had a different title at the time) was written in 1930.
In it, he lists endless examples of people who were sacked for being right, only to be replaced by people who seem to have done exactly what their predecessors proposed. Granted, he claims the French were better at this than the British but there were plenty of British examples too, not least the early advocates of the tank.
His epilogue is objective and generous to all participants. It includes this wonderful passage which seems to be just the sort of thing to get up Mr Gove's nose.
In this mood of reflection we are more ready to recognise both the achievements and the point of view of our late enemies, and perhaps all the more because we realise that both the causes and the course of war are determined by the folly and frailty rather than the deliberate evil of human nature.
The war has become history, and can be viewed in the perspective of history. For good it has deepened our sense of fellowship and community of interest, whether inside the nation or between nations. But, for good or bad, it has shattered our faith in idols, our hero-worshipping belief that great men are different clay from common men. Leaders are still necessary, perhaps more necessary, but our awakened realisation of the common humanity is a safe guard against either expecting from them or trusting in them too much.
Have we really learned that great men are not different clay from common men? Have we really learned not to expect too much of them, or not to trust them too much? I am sure it felt that way when he was writing in 1930.
And what of the idea that the causes and course of war are determined by folly and frailty rather than the deliberate evil of human nature? Would he have agreed with this when he wrote his other great book: the History of the Second World War?
The neutron
One of us was once a physicist and came across this poem in New Scientist some time back in the dark ages. The metre of the opening lines has stuck in the memory (and was probably a help in some exam or other).
When a pion an innocent proton seduces
with neither excuses
abuses
nor scorn
for its shameful condition
without intermission
the proton produces:
a neutron is born.
What love have you known,
O neutron full grown,
as you bombinate into the vacuum alone?
Its spin is a half and its mass is quite large
- about one AMU - but it hasn't a charge;
though it finds satisfaction
in strong interaction, it doesn't experience coulombic attraction
But what can it borrow
of love, joy or sorrow
O neutron, when life has so short a tomorrow?
Within its
twelve minutes
comes disintegration
Which leaves an electron in mute desolation
and also another ingenuous proton
for other unscrupulous pions to dote on
and last, a neutrino:
alas, one can see no
fulfilment for such a leptonic bambino -
no loving, no sinning -
just spinning and spinning -
eight times through the globe without a beginning ...
a cycle mechanic -
no anguish or panic -
for such is the pattern of life inorganic.
O better
the fret a
poor human endures
than the neutron's dichotic
robotic
amours.
Gina Berkeley
When a pion an innocent proton seduces
with neither excuses
abuses
nor scorn
for its shameful condition
without intermission
the proton produces:
a neutron is born.
What love have you known,
O neutron full grown,
as you bombinate into the vacuum alone?
Its spin is a half and its mass is quite large
- about one AMU - but it hasn't a charge;
though it finds satisfaction
in strong interaction, it doesn't experience coulombic attraction
But what can it borrow
of love, joy or sorrow
O neutron, when life has so short a tomorrow?
Within its
twelve minutes
comes disintegration
Which leaves an electron in mute desolation
and also another ingenuous proton
for other unscrupulous pions to dote on
and last, a neutrino:
alas, one can see no
fulfilment for such a leptonic bambino -
no loving, no sinning -
just spinning and spinning -
eight times through the globe without a beginning ...
a cycle mechanic -
no anguish or panic -
for such is the pattern of life inorganic.
O better
the fret a
poor human endures
than the neutron's dichotic
robotic
amours.
Gina Berkeley
Wednesday, 20 August 2014
World War I
World War I commemorations are much in our minds at the moment. The following appeared in a newspaper recently. It appealed because of the elegance of the verse and the link between warfare and peace. The poem was probably written soon after the end of WWI by a little-known poet called Geoffrey Fyson who had fought in the trenches. He perceptively envisages future generations of tourists crossing the ground he crossed.
In former times the British Travel Association had a crest with the Reithian motto Peace through Travel. If only modern tourists stopped and thought like this for a few moments.
Vimy Ridge
From Arras, on the straight white road,
Where all marched up, where some limped back,
Now, motor-load on motor-load,
The tourists mass for the attack.
Over each splintered track we trod,
Over each shelving trench we made,
Over each grass-grown space – ah God!
Where dust of my friends in dust is laid.
Cheerful, loud-voiced battalions pass,
Gorging the sights their money buys...
While you who are sleeping ’neath the grass,
You who have waked beyond the skies,
Keep everlasting silence. Yet
Are glad, maybe, when eve draws on,
When still’d the turmoil is, and fret,
And Arras chants her carillon,
When round-eyed children, with soft tread,
Draw near, and frame a diadem
Of glowing poppies, that are red
Because your blood has watered them.
There is more here.
In former times the British Travel Association had a crest with the Reithian motto Peace through Travel. If only modern tourists stopped and thought like this for a few moments.
Vimy Ridge
From Arras, on the straight white road,
Where all marched up, where some limped back,
Now, motor-load on motor-load,
The tourists mass for the attack.
Over each splintered track we trod,
Over each shelving trench we made,
Over each grass-grown space – ah God!
Where dust of my friends in dust is laid.
Cheerful, loud-voiced battalions pass,
Gorging the sights their money buys...
While you who are sleeping ’neath the grass,
You who have waked beyond the skies,
Keep everlasting silence. Yet
Are glad, maybe, when eve draws on,
When still’d the turmoil is, and fret,
And Arras chants her carillon,
When round-eyed children, with soft tread,
Draw near, and frame a diadem
Of glowing poppies, that are red
Because your blood has watered them.
There is more here.
Monday, 9 June 2014
Literacy
Talking of Mr Gove, he must have been miffed that news of his spat over-shadowed the announcement that he intended to eradicate illiteracy and innumeracy, and would enshrine this in law.
Sometimes the truth is so absurd that a parody is impossible. He is right. We have all been far too lax in allowing an outbreak of illiteracy of innumeracy. Shame on us.
It is the second idea that is manifestly absurd. Who will be punished if illiteracy still exists? Mr Gove? The illiterate individual? The teachers? Or will it be the parents who he also intends to punish if their children 'do not make sure their children turn up for class ready to learn'.
Sometimes the truth is so absurd that a parody is impossible. He is right. We have all been far too lax in allowing an outbreak of illiteracy of innumeracy. Shame on us.
It is the second idea that is manifestly absurd. Who will be punished if illiteracy still exists? Mr Gove? The illiterate individual? The teachers? Or will it be the parents who he also intends to punish if their children 'do not make sure their children turn up for class ready to learn'.
They just don't get it ...
One of the striking bits of fallout from the May-Gove spat was the line: A source at Number 10 said Mr Gove had not got off lightly and pointed out that Mr Gove had been forced to apologise to a civil servant, which in itself was a severe admonishment.
Apologise to the servants? How low can you fall?
How, in today's world, could anyone relish working for someone who regarded an apology as a 'severe admonishment'?
They will be making us apologise to our fags next.
Apologise to the servants? How low can you fall?
How, in today's world, could anyone relish working for someone who regarded an apology as a 'severe admonishment'?
They will be making us apologise to our fags next.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)