right way, wrong way

"Actions are held to be good or bad, not on their own merits, but according to who does them," George Orwell observed, "and there is almost no kind of outrage … which does not change its moral colour when it is committed by 'our' side".  Indeed.  This was quoted in an article by Mehdi Hassan in today's Guardian about the state-sponsored killings by the West that are becoming both more prevalent and more widely reported, but without any ensuring public outcry. On the contrary, the reaction is if anything largely positive, as Mehdi Hassan reports.  His argument is spoiled however by a selective quotation from Michael Burleigh in the Telegraph.  Burleigh is a well-respected historian and Hassan's quote suggests he is unequivocally in favour of these murders: 'I shall not shed any tears whenever one of these scientists encounters the unforgiving men on motorbikes, men who live in the real world rather than a laboratory or philosophy seminar.'  But there is a vital coda in the next sentence: 'Except that if Israel ventures down this road, I cannot think of much of an argument to prevent Iran following them, and then anyone else who decides to follow'  Shame on you Mehdi Hassan.  Your sloppy journalism undermines an essentially vital and vibrant piece of writing.

No nostradamus!

Surely this should be enough to scotch the rumours that 'the end of the world is nigh'.  Mayan, er, prophecies have no more validity than those of good ol' Nostradamus.  Yet people are so gullible and astrology still so popular.  So too the multitudes flocking to Lourdes and any of the hundreds of 'Vatican approved Catholic place of worship' to be found on the Internet at www.sacred-destinations.com.    In our post-Enlightenment world this is always a matter of concern for me, even though I understand the consolation religious faith does bring.

The sinking feeling of 'the other'

The sinking  of the Costa Concordia off the coast of Italy is shocking.  The deaths of the passengers and crew a tragedy.  Five people are confirmed dead and fifteen are missing.  The story has dominated the UK news across all of the media.  All this in the hundredth anniversary year of the sinking of the Titanic.  But as Ian Jack in this weekend's Guardian noted: 'Two years after the Titanic, a coal boat rammed the Empress of Ireland when the Liverpool-bound liner got stuck in a fog in the St Lawrence. The liner heeled over and sank within 14 minutes, and more than 1,000 people drowned: men, women and children struggled in the water "as thick as bees", according to a survivor, but no stories of self-sacrifice or selfishness emerged. It had all happened too quickly. The Titanic, on the other hand, took two hours and 40 minutes to go down on one of the stillest nights anyone could remember. Enough time for quandaries, conflicts, and good and bad behaviour.'  He also reminds us that Titanic was neither the fastest nor the largest liner operating at the time, and 'White Star line never advertised her unsinkability beyond a cautious sentence in a short-lived brochure of 1910'. What is shocking to me in 2012 watching the television coverage of the Costa Concordia is the obscene disparity between this and the sinking of the ferry off Indonesia in December of last year with almost a hundred killed, or the loss of the Zanzibar ferry in September with almost 200 drowned, and so it goes on.  But then western European lives are worth more in the hard currency of media reporting than those of 'the other'.  Always have been.  Ask Edward Said.

enthusiastic and comely

 I did enjoy the new series on BBC4 tonight about illuminated medieval manuscripts and what they might tell us about the 'private lives of medieval monarchs'.  The presenter, Dr Janina Ramirez, was both enthusiastic and comely, and refreshingly down-to-earth and giggly but in a good way.  The sort of person you would enjoy chatting to about the ins and outs of medieval history over a pint or two after work.   I did wonder sometimes about her rather sweeping generalisations and the validity of some of the historical analysis, but overall it was still very entertaining  to watch and I enjoyed being in her company for an hour.  The stars throughout of course were the illuminated manuscripts themselves and the wonderful work of the largely unknown artists and scribes. Truly these are great works of art and it is a shame that they should be locked away out of sight from the very public who pay for their upkeep.    

paradigm

It's one of my favourite words.  Paradigm. Wonderful definition from my trusty Chambers 21st Century Dictionary, page 998, quote 'a conceptual framework within which scientific theories are constructed, which is consistent within itself, but may need completely revising as evidence challenging the factual accuracy of some aspects of it accumulates'. I first came across the word reading Thomas S. Kuhn as a history undergraduate.  Ah, those were the days.  How often do you come across great words like that anymore? 

toasted bread soldiers

There are some foods that are transformed by the simplest of things into something elegant and refined. For example, take a soft boiled egg and add to it toasted bread soldiers lightly buttered. Sprinkle a little salt, some pepper, dip your first toasted soldier, and I guarantee you'll be in foodie heaven.  Go on, try it.  There is really nothing quite like a soft boiled egg with lightly buttered toasted bread soldiers.  Oh, and the egg is best boiled for three minutes exactly but should be placed in the pot of cold water from the start.  (These instructions are for Large, Free Range Eggs and take no account of the risk from salmonella because there really isn't one. Raw eggs can certainly present a health risk from Salmonellosis, but so too can reptiles and especially pet turtles.  Both things best not eaten with your breakfast.)

Ho! Ho! Ho!

An old joke maybe but it does make me smile.  As do these:

"Did you hear about the bloke who bought a bottle of liquid Viagra?  He drank Tippex by mistake and woke up with an enormous correction."

The Dalai Lama goes into a pizza shop, and asks, 'Can you make me One with everything?' 

Ho!  ho!  

The ugly face of religion

On the BBC TV programme QI recently I was slightly startled, but secretly pleased, to hear the host Stephen Fry declare that 'religion is shit!'.  Two stories in today's Guardian suggest he was right, that whatever benefits religion might bring in terms of personal consolation, its wider social effects are often wholly negative.  In the first article, about the worldwide eradication of polio, Jason Burke describes how 'in the late 1990s, (in India) local clerics began telling congregations that the (polio) vaccinations were part of a government plan, backed by the West, to make Muslim women infertile'.    Burke goes on to explain that 'some religious leaders convinced the community otherwise', but the point surely remains that religious groups continue to wield a disproportionate influence in our post-Enlightenment world.  Just consider, for example, the majority church leaders response to the idea of same-sex marriage in Scotland, which they were of course against.  There followed an equally disturbing story from Afghanistan about the torture and imprisonment of a fourteen year-old girl by her husband and his family that involved her fingernails being ripped out by pliers and her ears burned.  The roots of domestic violence against women, child marriage and the absence of basic legal rights for women are as much cultural as religious in Afghanistan, but given that Islam underpins so much of Afghan society it seems once again that the influence of religion can be as much pernicious as beneficial.  The fact that it is delusional and based on a belief in supernatural beings renders it even more disturbing.  And yet, it continues to prosper across the world and surely will continue to do so ad infinitum.  

Mild comic threat

It's that time of year again, the start of a new one, and traditionally the moment to list resolutions for the twelve months that lie ahead.  They don't always work but they're fun to do.  Mine include being a more regular blogger, eating less, reading more, going out to the theatre on a more regular basis, listening to my backlog of new cds, reading my backlog of books, exercising more, worrying less, and etc.  So no surprises there then.  I also hope to be able to go to the cinema more in 2012 but that depends largely on the selection offered at our local multiplex.  Mostly the films I want to see aren't shown, but an exception is 'The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo' remake.  That's for tomorrow afternoon hopefully.  On checking the listings, I did find another hilarious advisory from the BBFC for Mr Popper's Penguins, quote, 'Contains mild comic threat and flatulence jokes'.  Penguins that fart?  Well, I never.  That's almost as funny as Edinburgh Zoo spending tens of thousands of pounds a year renting pandas from China.  At a time of economic austerity, for anyone to commit several millions of pounds to hiring out cuddly bears is beyond preposterous.  Aargh!  Looks like 2012 is going to be just as crazy as 2011 and the Olympics haven't even started yet.  At least with the Queen's Diamond Jubilee we get an extra holiday.  I suppose we have the excitement of the American Presidential election to look forward to, starting with the race for the Republican nomination, and the distant but longed for implosion of Britain's coalition government, starting with the implosion of George Osborne.  My money is still on Obama winning in November and I will certainly enjoy reading about the twists and turns of the election in my beloved Guardian - in newsprint for I have not yet been persuaded by a Kindle, but I can feel the moment approaching.  And whatever happened to Sarah Palin?  The Tea Party seems to be losing ground in term of its electoral support but the Republican Party still kowtows to it in much the same way as Cameron kowtows to the Tory right in the UK.  Why not just take the right-wingers and all of their associated nutty, loony-tunes supporters on face to face?  President Bartlett would.  Which reminds me that I must re-resolve to re-watch The West Wing on dvd from beginning to end in 2012. 

Simple math

It takes a few minutes to do the math, a simple calculation to determine the number of years we have been married.  But I need to stop and think about it.  My wife just knows.  It's the same with birthdays and other celebrations that need to be memorialised.  I need a written prompt but it seems to have been enoded into her DNA.  It must just be another one of those mysteries of married life, although I can't say which one - I've lost count.

reasons to be cheerful

Love, life and laughter.  Family, good food, wine, and beer.  Crispy snow under a blue sky.  Walking across muddy fields towards a warm house. Lying in the sun, snoozing in the afternoon.  Music.  Listening to the radio.  Did I mention sex yet?  Eating out.  Looking at art.  Standing at the top of a hill you've walked up.  Watching your cat.  Talking to friends.  Reading a book that is truly a home for the mind.  Walking through a wood.  Travel.  A hot shower.  Pebbles on the beach.  Watching the waves of a rough sea from the safety of the shore.  Walking around a town or city in the hot sun.  Sitting sipping coffee or cold beer and watching the world go by. Hearing something nice being said to you.  Cuddling your wife.  Kissing.  Waking up beside your wife.  Kissing. 

Words hurt ... words heal

I never did understand the old saw that 'sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me'.  Words do hurt, everyone knows that, from the playground bully to tabloid journalists and politicians,  and all of their many victims.  Having myself been the recent victim  of a venomous outburst of vitriol I know whereof I speak.  What is remarkable to me is the power these words have, have had, continue to have.  It appears that they have been seared on my psyche.  They still swirl unannounced and unwelcome around my head.  They still sting.  I struggle to find the right words to heal and am reminded of the truism that a negative encounter has many more times an effect than a positive one.  Presumably time will be the great healer as often it is, but what a painful journey.

Stating the bleedin' obvious

Is it a leaf falling in autumn?  Is it a CGI confection?  Are those raindrops reflected in a window or fairy lights on a tree at Christmas?  It looks to be a cityscape but can we be sure?  It is certainly an arresting and attractive image, but of what exactly?
Anyway, just imagine for a moment this lovely street scene suddenly being filled with gangs of young people, feckless and footloose,  uninhibited by any sense of moral decency and clearly looking to exhibit anti-social behaviour whenever they get the chance to do so.  Gangs are a curse on British society, Prime Minister Cameron has averred, and a principal cause of the proliferation of gang culture is poor parenting.  In a groundbreaking report soon to be published, the solution to troublesome gangs is declared to be, wait for it, 'better parenting'.  Exactly how 'better parenting' is to be achieved presumably lies in the small print of the report.  I can't wait.  I'll wager it does not involve increased investment in schools, community education, social services, youth employment, or similar.  Perhaps Cameron will look to the Womens' Institute to run 'better parenting' classes as part of their contribution to his 'big society',  He could offer them all British Empire Medals as a reward.

Tick-tock!

There is a proposal that the UK moves to Central European Time for a 3 year trial period.  Apparently it will save lives, boost the economy, and benefit tourism. The first benefit I understand, the second I doubt, the last I think is really dumb.  Whoever planned a holiday anywhere according to what time-zone they were going to be in?  A more serious stumbling block is the requirement for the devolved assemblies to agree to the proposal and in Scotland we have serious reservations.  I say 'we' meaning the nation as represented by parliament and the media.  My personal view is that it really won't make a significant difference to the way I live, or at least we can surely cope with darker mornings in winter, but at least when we go on holiday to mainland Europe we won't have to adjust our body clocks and watches.

A tawdry addition to a tawdry system

So the British Empire Medal is to be resurrected despite John Major's attempt to bury it as an outdated relic of our bad old class conscious society that once stratified individuals (and communities) according to their perceived value and status. (The reality is of course that Britain may be relatively less 'class conscious', but check out the private school system, dippy Prince Charlie's veto of parliamentary legislation affecting his Duchy, a system of elite universities centred around the Oxbridge colleges, the House of Lords, not speaking to the Queen until spoken to, the makeup of the current Cabinet, and so so and so forth.)  A medal intended to serve as as a a 'gong' for  those who lacked the necessary rank to attain an MBE or Knighthood will be reborn to reward members of Cameron's 'Big Society'.  And the depressing thing is that many people will welcome this tawdry addition to our tawdry 'honours system'. But how less relevant to the woes - economic, social, political - that beset Britain in 2011 could it be to create yet more flummery, another little bit of political patronage to seduce the naive and unwary and bind them to a vision of Britain that is one part medieval feudalism, one part Victorian fantasy and invention, and one part communal delusion.  If Cameron genuinely wanted to reward deserving members of his Big Society why not just toss them a Knighthood or a seat in the House of Lords, a serious and hearty reward for services rendered, rather than this ' vile little scrap of nothingness from the master's table'.  
Oh, and 'what could be less relevant' when Britain is mired in unemployment, high inflation, falling living standards, savage public sector cuts, and etc?  What about the startling news that the law on royal primogeniture is about to be changed to allow the oldest child, regardless of gender, to become monarch.  Whoopee!  Another big step forward for common sense and female enfranchisement.  Mary Beard excoriates this absolute bloody nonsense far better than I could, so check out her blog 'A Don's Life'.

Realpolitik

Thoughts on the death of Gaddhafi?  Criticism of the manner of his death, following the extrajudicial murder of Osama Bin Laden by the Americans, strikes me as a tad hypocritical.  It is also clearly something for the Libyans to decide and the weight of comment from within the country seems to be in broad agreement that his death is a cause of great joy and celebration, followed by an overwhelming feeling of relief and 'now let's get on with the rest of our lives and rebuild our nation from scratch'.  A lot of media comment in the West is decidedly pessimistic about the future for Libya and often cite the spectre of civil war or the establishment of 'an Islamic state ruled by Sharia law'.  However, if that is what the Libyans decide they want then it is clearly nobody's business but their own.  I suspect they won't but even if they do decide on an Islamic state western governments will quickly accommodate themselves to it.  After all, they've done it for years with Saudi Arabia.  And there's all that oil and gas of course to help the Americans and French and British overcome their inhibitions.  All those lucrative business contracts to win.  All those principles to abandon in the interests of realpolitik.  After all, they did it for years with that crackpot dictator Gaddhafi.

Counting calories to no purpose

Great to learn courtesy of Radio Four's Food Programme that too much emphasis is placed on 'counting calories' when people talk about the importance of balanced diets and a healthy lifestyle.  All of this prompted by the surreal comment from the Chief Medical Officer of Health that people in Britain need to eat several billion fewer calories a year in order to combat 'the obesity epidemic', which is itself a questionable concept and shockingly unscientific.  Far more important is the division between those people who cook their own food and those who 'eat out' or buy ready meals and convenience food from supermarkets.  The latter being more likely to develop health issues directly related to their diet.  Interesting discussion too about the meaning of the word calorie, its etymology, and the vagueness and imprecision of much of the language used even by professional nutritionists.

A Kodak moment with trees

I was surprised to discover that my family have a habit of photographing trees.  I have an aunt who lives in Weybridge who photographs nothing else.  I've tried to draw and paint them, but fail miserably due to a basic lack of skill with brush or pencil.  Give me a camera and it's a different story, as the current example hopefully shows.  It's a tree (species unknown) on the road behind our house in Scotland.

Looking back over several years of holiday photographs the number of trees (and rocks) I have photographed is without number.  I just can't work out why.  Is it their shape, their colour, how they appear in the landscape, the texture of the bark?  Is it simply that I like photographing trees?  I'm not sure. I am sure that my wife would know what kind of tree it is.  It's another one of the Mysteries of Maried Life that she knows far more about trees and plants and birds than I do.  And I have tried to learn.  I've watched the David Attenborough opus.  I've bought the Collins Field guides to Birds, Trees, Wild Flowers and Mushrooms.  All to no end.  I can rarely manage to match up one with the other - what I've seen in books and what I come across on my countryside rambles.

Body language in Cordoba

It's a caption competition.  What are the three people in this bar outside the old city walls of Cordoba saying to each other or, more pertinently, thinking? The slick and slightly older waiter is flirting with the pretty young woman while taking their order for cold drinks.  The boyfriend is trying to be serious and authoritative but feels that his machismo is being challenged and doesn't like it.  Just look at his body language. The young woman is delightful and clearly enjoying the banter even if it discomfits her paramour.  A few moments later, with the waiter gone, she takes his hand and leans across to kiss him.  Sweet!

Whitewashing the dead in Olvera

A cemetery in southern Spain in the town of Olvera as seen from the castle next door.  We were the first visitors of the day and the helpful young curator manning the ticket office and souvenir shop unlocked the front door for us and explained how to get out again once we'd had a good look round. It was a hot morning in early October, the sky was a brilliant blue, and we had great fun clambering around the medieval castle taking photographs of this and that.  It was the kind of castle that gives castles a good name with proper crenallations, thick walls, guard towers, arrow slots to peer through, timbered floors, and a stunning view from the rooftop of the keep. There was even the narrowest of spiral staircases with slippery stone steps to corkscrew up and then down again.  But this scene intrigued me.  A team of four women, and all of the civic cleansing and maintenance semed to be done by women in Andalucia, were whitewashing the walls of the tombs in the local town cemetary.