I rant quite a bit; I like ranting.
I can be pedantic, and go on, often violently, about minor things that really irritate me.
And, just sometimes, I can do it quite well.
But this email is a masterpiece - one of the most glorious attacks I have ever read on something so seemingly inconsequential.
Not, of course, that a missing letter is always minor. We are all thankful for the substituted iota at Nicaea.
Friday 25 July 2008
Wednesday 23 July 2008
Turning right
It is sometimes astonishing what gets hard-wired into your brain. I went to Baker Street for training today, and instead of automatically going to the Met line (to my parents) or indeed where I was actually going, I immediately turned right and started to walk to Lord's, in the opposite direction. I caught it quickly, but it was suggestive of my priorities. And worrying.
Monday 21 July 2008
Black and White
If political creeds had similar sanctified locations to religions, then Grantham is effectively the Bethlehem of modern economic conservatism. Now while it doesn't really live up to this billing, though I am told there is a plaque, it was the occasion of my having argument there about a more constant Tory problem.
I was taken to task for referring to the White Dominions and accused of casual racism. I cannot exactly remember why I referred to them, but it was just in passing. Yet not only did the people I was with have no knowledge of what they were, but nor did anyone else I asked that weekend. Some of them really ought to have done: Anna did twentieth century history, and others actually come from them, and they still didn't know.
To clear up any confusion, the White Dominions were:
Canada (from 1867)
Australia (1907)
New Zealand (1907)
Newfoundland (1907) - I had to look this one up
South Africa (1910)
Their dominion status refers to self-government under the Empire; White is, well, obvious. And the phrase doesn't really apply now, the wikipedia article on the dominions tries to claim they are known as the White Commonwealth, but this is nonsense.
Now, it doesn't really matter if most people don't know about them and what they are called, though I was surprised that no-one did. However, it does highlight a couple of problems. Firstly, everyone was scandalised, albeit mildly, by the perceived racism in the term. But that's not right. It isn't a racist term and we need a be a bit more careful about what we call out on that basis.
Secondly, and much more worrying, it is symptomatic about ignorance of the Empire. I don't know a great deal about the Empire - I never studied it and have never been formally taught about it (save for a very bad essay on the East India Company). But I am comparatively well informed, because schools don't teach it. And they should. It shaped the laws and lives of millions and it continues to do so for billions today. The murky moral waters of compulsion, reparation, asylum, immigration and international law are impossible to understand without a basic impression of the imperial age and why things are as they are. Instead, I learnt about the industrial revolution for three years, all more boring than the last.
Unrelated, in a further discussion, it was noted that I also don't really like black music, or - as I put it - 'I prefer it to be mediated by whites' (I'm really not doing myself any favours here). I'm not alone in this I discover, but it did cause me to go inspect my CD collection (OK, really the database) to check how true that was. I astonished even myself:
We have 724 CDs (at last count). Just over 50 are by black artists. This seems shameful, but it's almost all blues. And I think that's the point: I have a lot of music of black origin - you can trace a line from Chuck Berry through to any number of white rock & roll artists and beyond. I know I should have more Jazz, but I die a little inside when I listen to it so I haven't bothered. But I'm looking at where things come from, imperfectly and selectively of course, but I am trying.
And that doesn't happen when people don't get taught about the Empire. Because without that information, they can't argue.
I was taken to task for referring to the White Dominions and accused of casual racism. I cannot exactly remember why I referred to them, but it was just in passing. Yet not only did the people I was with have no knowledge of what they were, but nor did anyone else I asked that weekend. Some of them really ought to have done: Anna did twentieth century history, and others actually come from them, and they still didn't know.
To clear up any confusion, the White Dominions were:
Canada (from 1867)
Australia (1907)
New Zealand (1907)
Newfoundland (1907) - I had to look this one up
South Africa (1910)
Their dominion status refers to self-government under the Empire; White is, well, obvious. And the phrase doesn't really apply now, the wikipedia article on the dominions tries to claim they are known as the White Commonwealth, but this is nonsense.
Now, it doesn't really matter if most people don't know about them and what they are called, though I was surprised that no-one did. However, it does highlight a couple of problems. Firstly, everyone was scandalised, albeit mildly, by the perceived racism in the term. But that's not right. It isn't a racist term and we need a be a bit more careful about what we call out on that basis.
Secondly, and much more worrying, it is symptomatic about ignorance of the Empire. I don't know a great deal about the Empire - I never studied it and have never been formally taught about it (save for a very bad essay on the East India Company). But I am comparatively well informed, because schools don't teach it. And they should. It shaped the laws and lives of millions and it continues to do so for billions today. The murky moral waters of compulsion, reparation, asylum, immigration and international law are impossible to understand without a basic impression of the imperial age and why things are as they are. Instead, I learnt about the industrial revolution for three years, all more boring than the last.
Unrelated, in a further discussion, it was noted that I also don't really like black music, or - as I put it - 'I prefer it to be mediated by whites' (I'm really not doing myself any favours here). I'm not alone in this I discover, but it did cause me to go inspect my CD collection (OK, really the database) to check how true that was. I astonished even myself:
We have 724 CDs (at last count). Just over 50 are by black artists. This seems shameful, but it's almost all blues. And I think that's the point: I have a lot of music of black origin - you can trace a line from Chuck Berry through to any number of white rock & roll artists and beyond. I know I should have more Jazz, but I die a little inside when I listen to it so I haven't bothered. But I'm looking at where things come from, imperfectly and selectively of course, but I am trying.
And that doesn't happen when people don't get taught about the Empire. Because without that information, they can't argue.
Friday 18 July 2008
Leonard
Leonard Cohen played the O2 yesterday night. I dragged Anna along, though she did protest and only listened to most of the albums that day, but she is now very glad I did. For it was a joy to behold.
He may be in his seventies, and he did introduce the band during every bloody song, but he was brilliant. Almost all the performances were great, save a slightly disappointing Democracy - the standout being a stunning Hallelujah. And he spoke and joked with charm that made the O2 feel like, well, a smaller 20,000 seater venue than it is. It was fab.
I think this was the setlist (I've stolen it, but it chimes with my recollection)
1. Dance Me to the End of Love
2. The Future
3. Ain't No Cure for Love
4. Bird on a Wire
5. Everybody Knows
6. In My Secret Life
7. Who by Fire
8. Hey, That's No Way to Say Goodbye
9. Anthem
10. Tower of Song
11. Suzanne
12. The Gypsy's Wife
13. Boogie Street
14. Hallelujah
15. Democracy
16. I'm Your Man
17. Take This Waltz
18. First We Take Manhattan
19. Sisters of Mercy
20. If It Be Your Will
21. A Thousand Kisses Deep (spoken)
22. So Long, Marianne
23. Closing Time
24. I Tried to Leave You
25. Whither Thou Goest
The O2 was pretty good too; the only problems being a grim tube ride home and then the discovery of a murder on our doorstep (though we only realised this later).
I'm off to buy Cohen poetry which I shall probably regret; and part of me wants to go again in the Autumn.
He may be in his seventies, and he did introduce the band during every bloody song, but he was brilliant. Almost all the performances were great, save a slightly disappointing Democracy - the standout being a stunning Hallelujah. And he spoke and joked with charm that made the O2 feel like, well, a smaller 20,000 seater venue than it is. It was fab.
I think this was the setlist (I've stolen it, but it chimes with my recollection)
1. Dance Me to the End of Love
2. The Future
3. Ain't No Cure for Love
4. Bird on a Wire
5. Everybody Knows
6. In My Secret Life
7. Who by Fire
8. Hey, That's No Way to Say Goodbye
9. Anthem
10. Tower of Song
11. Suzanne
12. The Gypsy's Wife
13. Boogie Street
14. Hallelujah
15. Democracy
16. I'm Your Man
17. Take This Waltz
18. First We Take Manhattan
19. Sisters of Mercy
20. If It Be Your Will
21. A Thousand Kisses Deep (spoken)
22. So Long, Marianne
23. Closing Time
24. I Tried to Leave You
25. Whither Thou Goest
The O2 was pretty good too; the only problems being a grim tube ride home and then the discovery of a murder on our doorstep (though we only realised this later).
I'm off to buy Cohen poetry which I shall probably regret; and part of me wants to go again in the Autumn.
Wednesday 16 July 2008
Bastille day
I've been in France for the last days, staying with my parents in their lovely house in Pornic. I've put the photos up here.
Interestingly, we were in town for the 14th July celebrations (hence the fireworks). Now, although I obviously don't approve of the 14th July - I am no republican - I've been to a few now and it's hard to dislike such an exuberant celebration of national identity that manages to avoid lapsing into tweeness and parochialism that, for example, American celebrations 10 days earlier often fail to do. Not that France is perfect, and peacniks may dislike the rather glorious parade in Paris: this year it had the UN.
What did strike me that night is that we don't have anything similar to either. It's long been observed - and is now controversial - that there is a patriotic deficit in England, despite this admirable attempt. However, this isn't the point. What we lack is a national day. We have time off for a variety of reasons, but our major commemorative days aren't holidays (11 Nov) and our holidays are increasingly meaningless to most people (Whit anyone?). Not of course, that this stops people taking them off - how I wish that non-Christians would put their money where the mouth is and work through Easter.
And I think we'd embarrassed if we did. All that parading and bombast isn't very British. It's great fun to watch, but we wouldn't want to do it. And while this in some ways is sad, the alternative is worse - we might take it seriously, and that would be much much worse.
Tuesday 8 July 2008
Render unto Caesar
I don't really approve of the General Synod. It all smacks of democracy, and though this will not stop me from attempting to get into it in later life, I just don't think democracy is the right method for resolving theological issues. I'm not suggesting it should run on some kind of monarchical principle - we know where that leads - but there are limits. These kind of decisions of the church and for the church need to be cut loose from the court of popular opinion and rooted in doctrine and doctrine alone. In the furore over the decisions of the Synod about women bishops and the protest over homosexual clergy (to form FOCA, who astonishly don't have a website) one could be forgiven if one missed this.
And these are all doctrinal issues. One could see them as liturgical, but the principle of Lex Orandi, Lex credendi takes care of that. Incidententally, I read No Alternative the other day and though dated (and not a little mad), it makes this point forcefully. And interestingly no-one is making the argument that these are liturgical changes, which is a small blessing I suppose.
However, what is being claimed is that this is somehow an issue about equality or justice and that the church must conform with the social, political and effectively legal structure of the country that it lives in. Those who advocate women bishops stress fairness and the importance of presenting a modern face to the world, but this simply isn't true; these aren't primarily relevant. They are not irrelevant: acting in a way comensurate with the society one works in may be necessary to, for example, preach the gospel, but it is not a priori a Christian requirement. In some societies, we would rather hope that Christians didn't conform, but rather challenged their masters. They don't always do it; nor would I.
Equally, the secular authority is welcome to - in effect - 'persecute' the religions within its borders. The UK could apply equality legislation to religions. In some ways, it logically should. Christians (and Muslims And Jews etc) would have a choice of confessing, to be martyrs for their faith, or lapsing either into a more congenial version of their faith or out of it entirely. But in that case, the Christian decision is one of doctrine against external force; its internal position must not be dictated by these arguments.
At the root of all this are doctrinal disputes. Women bishops are opposed because of the apostolic succession; homosexuality in priests because of a number of biblical and patristic writings. Their proponents reject that ecclesiological interpretation and are less keen on Leviticus and, er, Paul. They don't (or shouldn't) agree with the doctrinal bits, but then go placing equality legislation above it.
Let me end this by stressing that I am supportive of the involvement of the laity in the life of church - I am one in - in favour of women bishops and of homosexual clergy. However, it is not my decision to make (though I can leave the church if I became angered by it all), and my position, though I am doubtless influenced by secular context, is rooted in doctrine, not made on secular or external grounds.
And he that does so? Well, let him be anathema.
And these are all doctrinal issues. One could see them as liturgical, but the principle of Lex Orandi, Lex credendi takes care of that. Incidententally, I read No Alternative the other day and though dated (and not a little mad), it makes this point forcefully. And interestingly no-one is making the argument that these are liturgical changes, which is a small blessing I suppose.
However, what is being claimed is that this is somehow an issue about equality or justice and that the church must conform with the social, political and effectively legal structure of the country that it lives in. Those who advocate women bishops stress fairness and the importance of presenting a modern face to the world, but this simply isn't true; these aren't primarily relevant. They are not irrelevant: acting in a way comensurate with the society one works in may be necessary to, for example, preach the gospel, but it is not a priori a Christian requirement. In some societies, we would rather hope that Christians didn't conform, but rather challenged their masters. They don't always do it; nor would I.
Equally, the secular authority is welcome to - in effect - 'persecute' the religions within its borders. The UK could apply equality legislation to religions. In some ways, it logically should. Christians (and Muslims And Jews etc) would have a choice of confessing, to be martyrs for their faith, or lapsing either into a more congenial version of their faith or out of it entirely. But in that case, the Christian decision is one of doctrine against external force; its internal position must not be dictated by these arguments.
At the root of all this are doctrinal disputes. Women bishops are opposed because of the apostolic succession; homosexuality in priests because of a number of biblical and patristic writings. Their proponents reject that ecclesiological interpretation and are less keen on Leviticus and, er, Paul. They don't (or shouldn't) agree with the doctrinal bits, but then go placing equality legislation above it.
Let me end this by stressing that I am supportive of the involvement of the laity in the life of church - I am one in - in favour of women bishops and of homosexual clergy. However, it is not my decision to make (though I can leave the church if I became angered by it all), and my position, though I am doubtless influenced by secular context, is rooted in doctrine, not made on secular or external grounds.
And he that does so? Well, let him be anathema.
Sunday 6 July 2008
Wimbledon
The tennis has been a source of some marital discord in our house this week. After today's marathon, Anna has come away the happier of us; and I am sulking.
I don't really know why we care. Both Federer and Nadal are very rich, already have their place in the history of the game, and in Michael Flanders' memorable phrase "are bashing the ball with the skin of a cat." - here with a slightly bizarre video. However, we did care, and I think it says something - possibly surprising - about both of us.
Anna likes - as she rather patronisingly puts it - "little Rafa" because he is endearing and quite sweet, as well as being astonishingly dogged and brilliant. She wanted him to win today because he tried so hard and visibly wanted it so much. Anna is generally in favour of Nadal, finding this recent story about him travelling back to Barcelona on economy rather lovely - as it indeed is.
By contrast, Federer irritates Anna by monogramming his kit and looking smug, which - to be fair - he does a lot of the time. He does however, have a lot to be smug about, but not yet enough for my liking. Where he stands in the pantheon of great players is still being determined, but I - like others, have been keen to canonise him (in tennis terms) for some time. When he worked, he worked perfectly, and was joyous to behold. But for me, his losses this year have been hard to take. It some ways - entirely unfairly - it looks like he cannot win once his aura has gone, and that calls into question the genuineness of his achievement to date. He is still an amazing player, but no longer challenges for the title of the best ever. Because those people fight back. And so far, Roger hasn't been able to do so - or at least not to actually win. So it doesn't look like a legend is being coined, but merely another great player now fading away. I am using "merely" in a slightly odd way here, but the point is valid: I will be disappointed if Federer doesn't come back, and I don't think he will (unless Nadal is injured soon - not impossible - but that wouldn't be the same).
What does this mean? Well, in short, I think it means that I am interested in history being made; and Anna places more importance on people being nice and deserving it. Come to think about it, that's not too much of a surprise after all.
I don't really know why we care. Both Federer and Nadal are very rich, already have their place in the history of the game, and in Michael Flanders' memorable phrase "are bashing the ball with the skin of a cat." - here with a slightly bizarre video. However, we did care, and I think it says something - possibly surprising - about both of us.
Anna likes - as she rather patronisingly puts it - "little Rafa" because he is endearing and quite sweet, as well as being astonishingly dogged and brilliant. She wanted him to win today because he tried so hard and visibly wanted it so much. Anna is generally in favour of Nadal, finding this recent story about him travelling back to Barcelona on economy rather lovely - as it indeed is.
By contrast, Federer irritates Anna by monogramming his kit and looking smug, which - to be fair - he does a lot of the time. He does however, have a lot to be smug about, but not yet enough for my liking. Where he stands in the pantheon of great players is still being determined, but I - like others, have been keen to canonise him (in tennis terms) for some time. When he worked, he worked perfectly, and was joyous to behold. But for me, his losses this year have been hard to take. It some ways - entirely unfairly - it looks like he cannot win once his aura has gone, and that calls into question the genuineness of his achievement to date. He is still an amazing player, but no longer challenges for the title of the best ever. Because those people fight back. And so far, Roger hasn't been able to do so - or at least not to actually win. So it doesn't look like a legend is being coined, but merely another great player now fading away. I am using "merely" in a slightly odd way here, but the point is valid: I will be disappointed if Federer doesn't come back, and I don't think he will (unless Nadal is injured soon - not impossible - but that wouldn't be the same).
What does this mean? Well, in short, I think it means that I am interested in history being made; and Anna places more importance on people being nice and deserving it. Come to think about it, that's not too much of a surprise after all.
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