The community of the Reference Room

As a young man, staring out from an old scull I sometimes catch my reflection and its scary !!  
Its not the reflection of the shaving mirror I'm used to that, somehow with that reflection, I contrive to believe that my looks are still attractive, there is a twinkle in the eye and of course the years have brought a sense of satisfaction, endowed as I am, with a tale or two to tell.  
No its that "other face" caught unaware, not yet ready, introspective, perhaps unsure.

How we grow into  the later image of our parents. I am my Dad, caught at a time when he was probably troubled by nagging doubt, a twinge of pain that kept recurring, a little unsteady on his feet, perhaps a touch of blood pressure. He must also have considered the future and what it held, not in a maudlin way but as a practical summation of the situation and the issues, getting old brings. Its only a fleeting moment but it reveals more of the truth than the concoction we contrive to project to others.

My Dad was in his late 30s when I came along so we never had that close, "elder bother" link that some father son relationships have. I was doing "kid" things and he was busy doing "dad" things.
He was academic in outlook, head in a book or a quality news paper, ear cocked to a piece of serious music. 
He used to take me to the Reference Library and I would sit and contemplate this world of hushed silence and musty filing systems. The people who used to use the reference room, a large space lined with books, big solid ornate tables and noisy chairs, were from across the social spectrum. Many were students escaping from the noise and disturbance of their family home, others, people perhaps in business who wished to look up a tax problem. There were the lovers of books and the written word for whom a day out amongst the tomes of history, geography,and science were as a day to the races is to a gambling man.
Then there were the men of no fixed abode. They came off the street for a place to find some warmth and a little rest.   Some were well read, they had the time and their education, not formal, was spread across every subject under the sun. The only draw back, given their limited means,  they smelt of yesterday.

I mentioned the filing system. A card for every book kept, in logical sequence, devised for and by the Librarian. The holy grail that made everything accessible. There was a logic and a trail to follow, the sections and subsections led to a request form to be filled in and handed over the enormous desk behind which the librarian and his team sitting waiting. On receipt they would to scurry off with your piece of paper, into the bowels of that part of the library where the bulk of the books were kept.  If it was a project and needed many points of reference it needed many books and the reason for the stout tables was plain, as book upon book was delivered.

Today we have at our fingertip every book every piece of reference material, gathered and sorted by our friend "Google". We are led with highlighted links into pathways we could never imagine, sub plots of knowledge, the events and the people who made the events happen. I had only asked for X but was treated to Y & Z for a better perspective. Its marvellous, but I do miss the community of the Reference Room.        

The athletes did the rest.

How quickly we move on and forget.
I have just been watching re-runs of various Olympic competitions, cycling, rowing, athletics. I had forgotten the atmosphere, the noise, the tension, the emotion and the excitement. It was immense as the drama played out, could we do it again, another win and yet another.the excitement in the voices of the commentators the thrill of seeing their friends and athletic colleagues pull out the stops, lay it all on the line and offer the last drop of energy the last drop of mental commitment.We ordinary mortals can't understand the stress at this level of competition, we could only marvel at the events as the wins unfurled and we continued to win and win and win.The expressions of wild elation from those slight, wispy figures in the women's double sculls, we've done it we've done it, we are the champions!! The expression on the lass in the bow her face was pure poetry, can it be true, it is true we've done it !!  My own throat was full, my eyes were wet with tears as I relived the emotion of the moment. The athletes were the centre piece but a close second came the spectators who cheered and cheered. The country had come alive, had woken to the fact that we could win and win in style.The opening ceremony dashed aside our natural pessimism and the athletes did the rest. 

There's no eggs and bacon for him ?

The rain beating on my window woke me up. It was two in the morning and as the wind and rain raged outside I felt like the pig who built his house with bricks. The weather has been atrocious in the UK we seem to be at the mercy of high and low pressure areas drawing air in and out over the surface of the globe bringing the wind and the rain. We feel smug and secure, a house built in the 50s on high ground and above all, paid for !!

Not far away a different situation as a homeless guy draws the plastic sheet around him trying to keep his bedding dry. His home is a canvas bag, increasingly sodden as the night drags on, its a long time before dawn. He had hoped to settle in the station waiting room or at least under the protection of the bus shelter but the authorities moved him on.


The smell of my cooking at breakfast time, bacon sausage and eggs usually causes acrimonious comment from Marie but then when one has heard it all before and with Angela staying, I thing I will risk it !!!


Our friend on the canal bank has no aroma stigma to contend with. He is on a different planet, inhospitable and very wet. He would admit to being a free spirit but at what cost!  Breakfast will be what he can find in the "takeaway" bins, the left overs. 
He is a leftover, the Tories would describe him as a ne'er do well perhaps a scrounger, certainly a man down on his luck. 
He also had a house and a family but things went wrong when his firm laid him off. Divorced he was turned out of his home onto the street with few opportunities, there's no egg and bacon for him !!!   

Of course the scale of things in Africa fuelled by a high birth rate makes my illustration seem puny. 
Having read my history, The Mississippi/Louisiana scandal, The South Sea scandal, The Tulip scandal right up to the Dot Com and recently the Derivatives scandal linked to abnormal credit, were all manufactured scandals. Manufactured by people in power, people of influence who hood winked millions of gullible folk into a gamble which, until it burnt out, raised for a few, many millions of pounds.
The power of capitalism seen during the second world war, to mass produce ships and armaments, the many many millions spent on building ever taller buildings as a signiture for some super rich oligarchy to tell the world, we are the richest. The phenomenal wages paid to footballers, the grotesque bonuses paid to the traders in the financial centre's, all the result of the lop sided bias that unfettered capitalism brings to society and you say - what can we do ???
If we had the "will" we could do a lot, but self-aggrandizing gets in the way and our own effacement in the plight of the poor is a large contributor to its on going blight on our social conscience.   

And what next

And what next ? The build up to Christmas and the day its self now passed, what do we have to look forward to.

For those in work there is the routine of someone else's call to activity, hopefully stimulating as well as rewarding but for many there is no call.
For the unemployed, the drift into inactivity is soul destroying. Another round of job applications or job centre visits to search for something. Notice I stress the term job. A job is far less satisfying than a career which indicates some sort of progression. A job is usually fixed and defined in narrow perimeters, probably repetitive and often poorly paid.A job is a means to an end (to pay the bills) and not an end in its self. There can be the self satisfaction of doing the job well but in general there is not a great deal of character development as there is in a career in which one is seen as a team player, consulted and valued.
So for the majority the on coming year is quite a dreary prospect in so far as the bulk of our time, other than sleeping, will be spent. No wonder so much store is put on the parties, football, the summer holiday anything outside work. This is very sad and a major factor in our poor performance when asked to compete with other nations in industry and commerce.  Its shown in our schools and the attitude of the kids towards learning and achieving goals.
For the bulk of them there is no pay off for hard work, they see only a job and not a career!!
Why can't we begin to treat our workforce with respect and encouragement. Why can't we take them into our planning, let them have a role in deciding how things should be done, how economies can be made, how to do their own specific job and to reward them by acknowledging their contribution, their ownership of what they do. If productivity increases set, aside some of the increased profit by increasing the wages, recognising that sustainable profits come from a contributing workforce, its not just down to management.

And then there's the old folks, how do they look to the future and the year ahead ?   If incapacitated and in pain there's no easy answer other than close family and friends to be there, supporting. Most of us are not in that category. Our main inhibitor is our lack of confidence and an inability  to see that, other than some frailty, we are much as we were but with the time now to do some of the things we wanted to do.
Get out pencil and paper, log those places and they may be local, where you've wanted to go.  Start that hobby, walk that trail,photograph the wildlife, write the book and visit places and friends as if there's no tomorrow - there mightn't be one !!!!           

Pass the gravy !!

Pass the gravy !!  Yes its over for another year and we now sit sprawled on the couch wishing I hadn't had that last potato.

Christmas, like so many events, is part build up, part execution and part reflection. The build up is full of anticipation particularly the shopping for presents and the anticipation of pleasure when given both for the giver and the receiver. The shopping can be a chore in so far as one often sets out with no idea what to buy and then, through poking around one comes across something or other that one hopes will please.
Wrapping the gifts one had smuggled indoors, struggling with the sellotape, piling them under the tree and handing them out on Christmas morning. This is the routine which we follow across the Anglo Saxon world followed by being seated for a slap up meal. You will notice I have little recollection as how the grub got cooked but I'm always a very satisfied customer !!!

When young one is keen to carry on the festivities, a party,the pub anything to sustain the mood. When you reach a more advanced age the digestive system plays an increasingly important role in the next move. Sinking into the chair we stare at each other, congratulate the cook and reach for the TV control !!           

The season of good will.

The tree is up and the presents are around the base waiting for the grand opening.
It brings back happy memories when the kids were kids and the extended family lined up in someone's house having corralled all the offspring together on Christmas day to await Santa. The presents were piled high and I mean "high"!!

Somehow we had become victims of a competition which believed that our kids mustn't feel inferior, out bid, in the present stakes. It was a case of swamping the child in an excess of giving. Of course receiving so many gifts the children hardly had time to tear off the wrapping before having another gift thrust in their tiny hands, they had no idea what they had received, or a sense of its value, in the non monitory sense.

Years ago when individual consumption was limited, the giving focused within the actual family. A few simple gifts were highly valued and I can remember, even today, the  excitement of opening the Rupert Annual or digging down into the pillow case for a toy I had mentioned to my Mum and Dad who cleverly had informed Santa.    Mummy, Daddy look what he brought me !!
Well today Santa was nowhere to be seen so I had to do the job myself. At least gifts were carefully weighed. What would she like, what size does she take, will the colour suit ?   Now they are sitting in the wrapping paper waiting for the day, no peeking !!

We have "Spotify" on my Lap-Top, linked by the amplifier to a pair of humungus speakers.
Spotify is marvellous, it provides a catalogue of thousands of records covering a multitude of different types of music from countries across the globe. The ease with which one can dip into a musical experience simply by typing the artist, a description covering the type or perhaps the country of origin and you are there at the tap of the enter key.
Today it was Christmas music from Perry Como, complex rhythmic sitar music by Ravi Shankar, the music of Cuba,Spain,Angola, The Jazz Quartet, Bert Kaempfert and more.  Classical, Folk, Jazz, Country & Western you name it, its there for a fiver per month.  

Andrew is missing, living in Mackay but the ease with which the internet links one up to a store in Perth to ship something to Queensland is the phenomena of global shopping. Christmas cards that sing to you from the computer screen add an unique feature to giving and remembering.

I remember the old days, having to set aside 4 to 6 weeks to be sure the mail man delivered. A phone call was routed through an overseas operator who dialled the number and made the initial contact, "I have a call for you from ***.  I remember making a call from the streets of New York.
First I had to find a bank that traded with the public to obtain coinage for the phone box. I then found a phone box and made the link to the international operator. "Please insert the coins". Three quarters through the coin feeding the coin box filled up without full amount being paid, what shall I do.  Find another phone sir and continue to deposit the money. I walked to another street, found phone and rang international. Remarkably they knew I would call and ask me to resume inserting the money. Mum who was waiting for the connection, was on edge, would he or wouldn't he get through.  
A pound a minute phone call was a significant sum in the 1960s.    
In the 60s the flight from Paris to Mozambique cost £60.            
A 5 week sea trip, all found, from Australia to Europe cost £120 !!
Today you chat on Skype for hours, free.    

Happy Christmas

Cats

Cats.  We had a black cat we called Simba, rescued from the "Stars" print room, I took it home as a pet for the kids.
The first mistake was to believe that cats are like dogs, ready to bond with their human friend, to love, honour and obey! Not a bit of it !!
The kitten, covered in printers ink needed cleaning so I ran some warm water in th e bath and tried to convince the little jet-black bundle that it was all for the good. Of course I hadn't quite understood that my "good" didn't correspond to Simbas.  The bath water turned red with blood, my blood as the bundle set about defending its life and limb.
Simba was always aloof, deaning it possible, just possible that a stroke or scratch would be acknowledged with a deep purr, an occasional meow a lean against the leg and then off, imperious, investing his time in cat things.
There are families who surround themselves with these manifestly singularly, self-absorbed animals and in effect, fall under their spell. Its as if, we humans can't quite come to terms with an animal that treats us with so much disdain. Unlike a dog who is in thrall to its master the cat will capture the high ground and treat us to the proverbial cold shoulder if we show emotion and then switch their interest at feeding time !!
I was always amazed. Simba seemed self contained, even keeping his hygiene under wraps. I never discovered where the cat went but he didn't seem to think it proper to make a mess on his own doorstep.
I think if the cat has friends and family, a colony forms and takes over home and hearth. Humans begin to take a back seat and the house looses its purpose. Never satisfied, the felines curl and stretch all over the place, whilst the humans pick their way gingerly around the room, seeking a spot to call their own.  

Ask the boss for a rise !!

We have just had a interim budget statement from the Chancellor of the Exchequer. 
He has highlighted the dilemma we are in as a country. Completely out of alignment in terms of our income and our expenditure, we are like the family who need to go every week to the loan shark to get the money to buy the essentials. How we got here is history what we do from now on is critical !!

When the man in the street is severely overdrawn there is only one thing for him to do  -  go ask his boss for a rise ?? Just joking ?

The propensity for employers to pay as little as they can, especially in times of high unemployment ( the ball is well and truly in their hands), is made even easier as the state plugs the gap to subsidise, shockingly low wages.  
No wonder we pay such a high benefit bill. 

The traditional remedy used to be, to cut down on expenditure, and of course, that's the Governments case. Cutting expenditure on the Welfare State is in vogue.
We are continually being conditioned to believe,through the media, that many people in a  section of society, who claim some sort of benefit, are in some way weak and debauched.   

I am sure these self same outraged people would be equally outraged to have their,winter fuel allowance, the child benefit, the bus pass and so on, questioned in this way.

One man's benefit is another man's scrounging.

The middle-class and the wealthy have these benefits paid into their bank accounts probably without noticing, because these benefits are called,  Universal Benefits and therefore the benefit is paid to everyone regardless of need !!!  
This is plain stupid and should be stopped, why don't they do it ? 

Could it be pressure from closer to home ?

Given the size of our borrowings, a ticking time bomb, has given this Government the opportunity for draconian cuts to the benefits for people who are already on the boarder line, (given that food is, 50% of their out going expenditure).

We are told that the Benefits mountain is our greatest problem.
Not the unpaid tax of our company proprietors, the Philip Greens of this world,Amazon and Starbucks who pay little or no tax at all !!! 

The issue of paying tax,"income" (the other side of the Benefit account conundrum) is always down played by the establishment.  In fact we, the public, are warned that if these people, and their companies, are made to pay the tax, they may leave us and then, - what a pickle we will be in !!!  

Its the same with the huge bonus cheques the Bankers pay themselves, completely out of line with anything the man in the street can comprehend, especially in times of austerity -  remember, we are, all in this together !!
No its easier to feed the public with this diet of "malingering benefit claimants", who must be hit hard.

The right wing media are part of the Establishments strategy to formulate and soften public opinion for even more stringent changes to come. 

The issue of our police (now partly privatised), the issue of our schools (now partly privatised),{and I don't mean the oddly named Public Schools} the issue of selling off the fire engines in London for £2 to a private investor, the issue of the National Health Service, on route to have large segments of the service privatised.


Its a full scale assault, by the Conservatives on the root and branch of our society. 

Who are the beneficiaries,
                     the faceless entrepreneurs, the money men, friends of friends. 

Girls,girls,girls.Good vibrations !!!!

I'v just  watched a program on the BBC showing the Beach Boys appearing in a come back concert in the States earlier this year.
They were terrific. The harmony and falsetto voice of Brian Wilson brought it all back.

I was in Corpus Christi in 1966, the sound of the Beach Boys were everywhere. All the commercial radio stations were playing their records and every party was alive to their sunny beach lifestyle music California Girl, I Get Around, Good Vibration Wouldn't it be Nice. The songs were played everywhere. They perfectly complemented the sunshine and the leggy girls and were all a far cry from the bleak landscape back home.   
It was great to be young and caught up in the buzz !

Watching them perform tonight they were wondrously, spot on with the lead singer Mike Love, rolling back the years and creating a tingle as the beat and the extended lyrical harmony flooded from the stage to a rapturous audience, up on their feet, doing the moves, reliving their youth.
Music which has a hold as has no other, on the years when we were young and imperious      
The excitement and the memories that tumble out of the brain when hearing a song or rhythmic beat played by a band, morphing ones personality into a youth full  identi-kit of who we might like to be, again !!!

So once again we find ourselves caught up in the convention trap bursting,  to relive a time when we were unabashed by anything and totally absorbed by hedonistic youth and the desires that keep the whole thing rolling !!  
Corpus Christi, Clifton Beach, the hot sun beating down mercilessly, the bikini girls always unaware and we, tormented by our shyness unable to bridge the gap !!  
Music and dance somehow broke the barriers down. the conventions that inhibited us, suddenly opened up an avenue to communicate and risk ones ego.
Somehow the formality of dance and the common thrill that the music imparted made the route to 66, seem less daunting.

As the song goes, "Girls, girls, girls, Good Vibrations" !!!!!!  

A collective experience

Free Speech has been on trial in this country for a number of months since the revelations of phone tapping and character assassination by the press.
The press' freedom to hold everyone and anyone to scrutiny is a bastion of the democratic structure that we have much to be proud of in this country. Without this independent scrutiny powerful people and powerful institutions can flaunt their power and bulldoze their will over us all. The press more than any other institution has revealed situations that have made people very angry and the miscreants forced to change their methods and renege on the way they were acting.
The problem is that power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely. The power of the press to put into print a story which may or may not be true has enormous consequences for the person or institution upon who the story is based. There is no rowing back since the seeds sown in the minds of millions of readers can not be removed. People hold what they read as factual and denial by the victim of a story is always treated with suspicion, the "no smoke without fire" syndrome.
Lord Justice Leveson, given the task of listening to claim and counter claim has produced a report today which was immediately debated in Parliament.
The Prime Minister acknowledged the recommendations in the report but dug his heals in on the issue of legislating a body into law which would have over-sight of the press. His fear was that bringing such a body into existence could in the future, be used to muzzle the press when politically sensitive issues needed public scrutiny. The Opposition felt that the independence of the new scrutinising body could be guaranteed and bore no threat from future government interference.
 
Listening to the debate I was struck by the quick minded eloquence of the people who laid out and defended each proposition. I was particularly impressed by the Deputy Prime Minister, Leader of the Liberal Democrats, Nick Clegg. In an extremely unusual situation he rose to disagree with his boss, at the dispatch box, and promoted the acceptance of Leveson in full.  I was beguiled by his command of the language, his ability to think on his feet as criticism flowed his way. A command performance.

People who have this talent to enunciate and articulate a proposition clearly so that the issues are clear and transparent, are gifted and a pleasure to listen to, even if you disagree with what they say. It is almost hypnotic to hear a good debate where the issue is tossed around like a bone leaving one almost convinced black is white. The demagogue uses this skill to entice the ignorant but the true practicianer has the ability to communicate at the highest level and one must remember that it is the ability to communicate that sets mankind apart from the animal world. Communication is the tool by which we pass on and develop our collective experience.          
          

Start up the presses

With the rise in instability in the Middle East particularly the rise of Islamic government we enter another phase of disharmony that has plagued mankind for evermore. The seemingly "inherent" ideological disconnect that mankind has been prone to since we came on earth.
Its strange that we seem to feel better brandishing our disapproval of something, someone, instead of looking for the good, the commonality we share rather than the difference.
When you watch politicians braying at each other it does remind one of donkeys, donkeys who's main influence is to out bray the other in a noisy display of self centred mindless noise.
Outside Parliament, listening to debates there can be a common thread, an aim to achieve a goal that will improve the current situation. The methods may be different but the aim is common since with few exceptions mankind has much in common, where ever they are on the globe. We all seek much the same sort of things for ourselves and our families but ideology, power and greed get in the way.
Imagine a government with a benign wish to listen and coalesce, to incubate ideas and act by common consent.

Another form of warfare and one with a power for far greater and wider destruction, is the currency war that is being fought right at this moment with damaging results across the world.
Since mankind developed an alternative measure of exchange, from the days of the barter system, money has been the value of a transaction, as well as our measure of judgement in the analysis of how well we have done vis a vis someone else.     Money reflected the value of the assets we hold.

Today, money is no longer is tied to assets, in fact the money in circulation is many times the the numerical value of all the assets held in the world. Up to Bretton Woods the money supply was tied to gold which acted as a  measure of value vis a vis printed currencies. If you devalued your currency you devalued it against gold and whilst it improved your competitive position by making your exports less expensive and therefore more attractive, it was also a token of your national value as seen in the international community and weighed against you in so far as institutions who held you currency were now short changed. After Bretton Woods the major holder of gold was the USA and when in 1971 under Nixon, the USA came off the gold standard, the currency wars could begin in earnest.
The old financial structure required a great deal of discipline and highlighted each nations financial health, from now on, currency's could float and the movements were not seen as a national disgrace.

Old concepts of probity and self discipline became "old school". So much in the financial world became a matter of evermore complex instruments to trade money. Money became a commodity in its self.  

The mountain of debt that was traded across the world had a monetary value which bore no relation the actual value of anything that could be tied to anything.
Without money being tied to anything or any sort international discipline the time was ripe for massive manipulation, enter "quantitative easing". Every time the Americans print money, holders of dollars loose the peg to their own currency and in effect the tied currency is revalued upwards, causing inflation, with the toll that inflation brings on the financial stability within a country. 

Across Africa,Europe,Asia the effect depends on the strength of the individual country but, as is always the case, the poorer nations and the populations in those countries can be devastated. Witness the inexhaustible increase in food prices across the world and the misery it brings,

Does Mr Bernanke take any of this into his calculation when he decides to start up the printing presses.  I doubt it ?            

Life's timeline

Life's, time line unfurls in its inevitable journey. 

We often talk about the need to make the most of our time. It can become a fetish to worry about what we are doing and what we can do to do more !! 
There is a question mark over our use, or misuse of the time we have at our disposal. I use the word disposal as if it were a commodity to use or throw away and it is this concept that time is so important as the constituent that adds value to what we do throughout our life.

Some people become completely obsessed in using all the hours that is in a day to consume the jobs they set themselves to do. Life is a box ticking event as the desire to do so much takes hold. 
For the ambitious, even when we are young the time is spent cramming for academia or sport and the issue is no longer, the "freedom" that childhood is supposed to bring but rather an early start on the treadmill of achievement. 
The grim climb up the slippery slope of a hierarchical structured business environment leads to ever longer hours and even days away from home and family. The decision as to where ones alliance lays, family or the job means that the time one spends at one or the other is critical.

Suddenly the company relinquishes its hold, the schedules that have governed our every waking minute are gone, the intimacy of the everyday business conversation and the emotional satisfaction of decision making is no longer the adrenaline lift that makes so much sense out of the contract we have made to spend so much time and so much commitment on such a  goal.   

Retirement deals a near death blow to some and one has to ask why we spent so much of that illusive commodity on such an artificial outcome.


Time is precious but equally is the way we spend that time and the fulfilment we get as human beings to include another type of tick box, a more humanitarian tick box, one which takes the view that there are many other riches to this life, than the traditional ones of the pay cheque and the company car.                   

The Synod and the art of civilised debate.

We have just concluded a momentous session of the Church of England Synod to decide whether to have women Bishops.

The Press and the Media, "as is their want", generated a great deal of heat and not a great deal of light as they recorded their bias.


The Synod is a remarkable exposé of democracy at work which, divided into three segments The House of Bishops. The House of Clergy and the House of Laity (who represent the Congregation), are seen to debate and consider in a way that seems far removed from the viscous, rough and tumble of today's world. 


The Establishment, (Bishops and Clergy), were pursuing the common call (media driven) for the advancement of women to the top table (the equivalent of the boardroom). The Laity meanwhile were concerned that the Bible lays stress on male continuity and were adamant that the structure laid down in the "good book" had stood society well and it was not in the gift of man to change it.


It is important to stress that each Bishop has a single vote which represents his own view.
Each member of the Clergy,seated in the Synod represents 20 or so clergy who do not attend.
The representatives of the Laity each represent roughly 1800 members of the Church. 
Do the maths and you see democracy at work.

Listening to the media, they howl like banshees at a result, so non-politically correct that they are having a seizure !!   Unable to control or ignore the general view, they can hardly control their hysteria.
 
The reason for writing was to describe a strange and truly rewarding phenomena. 
The sight and sound of such a gathering of mature people discussing, in such a balanced civilised way, a subject so close to their individual hearts  but which some were diametrically opposed. 
Each person called rose to speak in a measured, thoughtful, sincere way that one could only respect the depth of their commitment and integrity.


It was all such a far cry from that other gathering of lay people who profess so much and produce so little. Whose bile and contempt, not only towards each other but their overt disrespect for any point of view opposed to their own, is the basis of their existence !!

I speak of course of "Parliament" and many who sail in her !!                  

Life and Death

    

Having spent an evening debating various problems, we eventually settled on the big one, Life After Death and the issues surrounding Religion and Faith.
One understands why so much heat and emotional desperation is raised when people from opposite persuasions discuss the matter.

Fundamentally it is down to a matter of faith.
Faith in there being a god or a supreme being who created everything and has a hand in events as they unfurl. 

Or, one has a "faith" in the finite position represented by mankind today, of a journey which started millions of years ago with a "singularity" of which one hypothesis is the Big Bang !!  
The faith (or confidence) in the revelations that science has revealed.
The issues of a time scale far more massive than the cosy "time event" that involve living beings. 
The issues of a quantum, subatomic random world that contradicts any understanding of a predetermined creative element as a basis of what has happened.

We are not arrogant in our search for a Heavenly Father only confused that, at the end of a rich experience, such as a span of years, it comes to an abrupt end and we have nothing else. Our only sense of who we are and what we stand for depends on our being alive. 

Death brings an end to everything, other than the memories of others still alive or the writings that others might read, the creation of something that continues after our death and has a perceived value.
The issue of our sensitivity to loved ones who have died and the belief that there is a sort of spiritual world in which we and our loved ones can inhabit when dead, is purely a wish.
The hope we can be born again in what ever form has a fairytale element to it which I would be the last to spoil for someone who has this belief. 

I find the philosophical basis for these beliefs enthralling and deeply stimulating in so far as they describe man's condition. The interpretation of our psyche and our earthy actions to formulate a code of living and thinking can only be for the good but we return to the question of faith. Faith is based on conviction, not proof.

Faith in science is not wholly substantiated by proof but there is far more analysis and the search for proof is more fundamental than in say religion.

The concepts and the views of scientists can also be a leap of faith but are largely backed by experiments and contributions, gathered through the ages.

We are what we think we are.
We are not what we think we are.
What we think we are is not who we are.
We are where we train our minds to think we are.
The evidence around us in our daily lives sours the essence of who we could be.
But if we achieve a cleansing of our desires, what have we become and, what we have become, is it recognisable to anyone else, and does it matter ?  




          

Ka mate, ka mate

Why does the Haka bring tears to my eyes, every time !! Why is there a catch in my throat as I speak !! What is it when I see these men from the little island country on the other side of the world, grimace, hang the tongue out, settle, semi squatting, eyes wide chanting 


                Ka mate, ka mate
                Ka ara,  Ka ara                                  ( I die, I die )
                Ka mate, ka mata                               ( I live, I live )
                Ka ara,  Ka ara
                Tenei te tangta pahuruhuru                ( This is the hairy man )
                Nama i tiki mai whakawhite te ra        ( Who caused the sun to shine again me )

One of the great rituals, it is symbolic of a Polynesian ceremony, probably enacted for Captain Cook in 1780 in his voyages through the Pacific Islands.
Normally friendly, Cook upset the local islanders in Hawaii and having left the island they had to return to repair the ship when Cook was murdered.
Its also the equally small nation, Wales that in the singing of their national anthem with a crowd full of anticipation, also makes me gulp.  When he was here, Andrew used to laugh to see me so moved !!  

I am happy it is so recorded, since there is an underlying, underdog element in my emotion. 

Seeing the unity, hearing the unity, makes me sentimentally yearn for unity !!     

Lest we forget

This day this hour, the 11th hour of the 11th day I hope you are all taking time off from your morning coffee to stand and remember. Lest we forget !!

It is a crisp bright day in the streets of London as this annual event takes place with all the solemnity the occasion demands. The massed bands play their solemn and moving music, the gay coated men at arms are a reminder of a subsection of society that offers its self in conflicts, around the globe, arguably, to keep us safe.

It used to be called Armistice Day which reflected the moment when the Armistice was signed to end World War 1. Notice it was an armistice not a defeat. The nations at war were exhausted and the German nation was still theoretically undefeated and would have meant the expenditure of many more lives to defeat Germany properly.
Armistice Day merged into Remembrance Day to encompass the Second World War and now, other wars, up to the current conflict in Afghanistan.   

The toll on the people who fought is remembered by the men and women who march past with their wreaths of poppy's to be laid on the steps of the Cenotaph. The ribboned, largely older men, some very old men who all have tales to tell that would amaze the politically correct, safety absorbed people who seem now to direct events on our shores. Will we be fit for duty, with the corrosive influence of the nanny state, if and when we are asked to make the ultimate sacrifice in the future ?
These men marching past come from a cultural mindset that is getting rarer, a mindset that encompasses their place and their responsibility towards society so distant from the self absorbed templet that Mrs Thatcher trumpeted and which, with the self centred consumerist society we have, has demolished much of what we stood for.

The men are largely drawn from the working class with its self confident, chipper approach to life and the tasks asked of them. The structures in society were entrenched and largely accepted. These men conscripted into the forces were mainly compliant, believing what they were told by their "betters" and willing to do their best !!!

As the wreaths are laid it is always impressive to see the scope and breadth of the, what was the Empire, now the Commonwealth, represented by different country's, stretching around the globe. The size of the enlistment and the courageous feat's performed by men whose fight this was, in a sense, not theirs, is amazing.
The Mother Country needed them and they responded !!                  

Democracy - American style

You have to wonder about American zeal to be different and so convinced about their God given righteousness.
They export their concept of democracy to nations across the globe and claim an almost messianic belief in their own righteousness. 

President Obama having, in terms of the popular vote just squeezed back into power, beating the plastic imagery of Mit Romney and the enormous wealth of the Republican Party. This is the democracy the US expounds. A democracy that uses wealth as the most powerful tool to manipulate the minds of the voter. That funds TV stations such as Fox to supply a never ending diet of scurrilous misinformation and personal vitriol. That has a political implanted Supreme Court, dependent on the party in power to enlist Judges with the convictions to suit the party in power. A legal system that accepts the ignominious Guantanmamo Bay as a short cut to Justice so it can detain people without trial for periods of years. This is a democracy that fights tooth and nail to avoid voting the money to provide a large section of its population with the basic security of health care. A society that is reminded again and again of the danger of allowing its citizens to arm themselves to the teeth with weapons that should only see the light of day in the battlefield.

Obama has to unlock the veto the the House has to prevent the Presidential manifesto that the people have voted for. Of course in this election 50% of the population has not voted for the manifesto and we are in for deadlock when we need it least.

People talk highly of Obamas ability to motivate through his speeches but I have to admit his delivery puts me off. It is slow and broken into formulaic statements rather than a discursive flow which would engage me.   I suppose its what he says that is important !!             

______________________________

Things might go wrong !!!

The report of Bradley Wiggins being knocked off his bike the other day followed by the potentially more serious accident to the coach of the medal winning UK cycling team.
How can a consummate bike rider like Wiggins be involved in such an accident and what hope for the rest of us who are, or are considering, taking up cycling.
My background is one of many miles spent on a bike with only one accident when, like a fool I cut a corner whilst racing a friend down a narrow road. A car coming the other way with no where to go dealt me an object lesson I never forgot.



My teenager years, often astride a bike were truly wonderful, spent outdoors, in and amongst the Yorkshire Dales either cycling, walking, rock climbing or tentatively, pot holing, for which I never truly enjoyed, being marginally effected by claustrophobia, not a weakness to endear one to a tight squeeze through a dark underground passage hundreds of feet underground !!

To meet ones cycling friends on a Sunday morning outside the Lister Park Gates in Bradford, 20 of us, two abreast we set off winding through the small satellite towns to Skipton and the open country beyond. The chatter between us, the fresh air, the exhilaration of feeling fit and alive, on top of our game not to make money, not to wish for fame and fortune but to acknowledge the youthful pleasure in being alive, free to go where I wished so long as I confined myself to what I could do given my own ability.
The roads were uncluttered, with few cars, the rocky outlets relatively free of people and of course "health and safety" was a personal concept which we termed, simply "common sense".

We acknowledge the importance of where and to whom we were born. The accident of birth is sufficient to provide us with (and this has a steep gradient depending to whom)  a roof over our head, good food, a good education, job opportunities and so on. But what about the era into which you were born ?
I feel privileged to have lived and enjoyed my childhood years with parents who whilst having little material wealth gave me the wealth of a different kind. Music, literature and the space I needed to grow and develop my own character. All the risky endeavours, climbing, pot holing, climbing trees even the embryonic first night spent in a tent about 5 miles away from home, next to a pond in the corner of a farmers field when we were only 11/12 years old. My poor old Mom must have had kittens but with my Dads guidance, I was allowed to cope with what ever came my way.

How different the culture now with fear that things "might go wrong" predominating and colouring their ability to let go.                  

Fairness and entitlement

My thoughts are not noble they are based on what I would call fairness. What does this word "fair" mean and why should we strive for it
Of course you are right, entitlement is a tricky concept. Is the person who lives in a remote rural village entitled to clean water, medical assistance,ect ect.  

In a remote primeval forest in the middle of Borneo clearly the concept of a shared entitlement is limited by the structure and the interaction across the populous and its governmental stretch.

In a country like South Africa there is a 
reasonable expectation that fundamental 
services should,reach across the nation and 
the nation set aside resources to make this 
happen.


In much more integrated societies like the USA and Europe it is now taken for granted that certain standards have a place in our estimation of that society and respectively in the way the people living in that society expect to benefit from the economic engine. Jobs, minimum wages rules regarding employment including the rights of the employed whilst they are employed.
The fact that many of these societies are in trouble, financially, obviously effects the ability to maintain the benefits that accrue to those, not living in Borneo !!



The economic engine needs many inputs not least from the common man. If only the likes of Lloyd Blankfein could manage without the man who puts his car together,mends the road he uses on his way into the office,produces the light bulb to light his way into the office, pay the guard who secures his working papers,and even the out of sight cleaner who sees that his waste paper basket is emptied. He relies on them and they rely on him.  The difference of course is in his reward for his contribution to the money go round.  There has been an unacceptable widening of the gap between the ordinary worker and the men and women at the top.


Apart from inherited wealth, in the 60/70s, the top management pay across the board compared to their employees was in the region of 5 times. In the 80s, 10 times. 
In the 90s, 15 times. Today the multiplier is 200. 
This is outrageous and has distorted everyone's concept of what is fair !!!!

If, as you say, we must claw back on entitlement, lets start with Mr Blankfein.  
             

The bullied have become the bullies

I was watching a program this morning on the BBC which epitomises the quality of this often maligned broadcaster.
We often take for granted our surroundings and the constituent parts that can and often do, affect our lives. Complacency is the norm when things in general are found to be in balance. It takes loss or subjugation to make us re-evaluate the things and the people around us, to make us take a grip on who we are or would like to become. To learn from others, is to add to the sum of our knowledge and the more we know the better armed we become to understand events as they unfurl in our lives.
The program is a discussion program where people debate issues, largely on moral or religious attitudes that society wrestles with. I find the complex beliefs and the attitudes that, sensible, balanced people have, rewarding since it enriches my own experience.

The subject matter today included, amongst other things, comments made by the Roman Catholic Archbishop about Gay and Lesbians. The Archbishop had been branded a bigot by Stonewall, the Gay and Lesbian movement.
The verbal and intellectual tussle between a Bishop in the Church of England, a Journalist who was Gay and spoke for Stonewall and a women who was the Editor of a Catholic Newspaper. Each was perfectly at home in their belief even though they were diametrically opposed to each other. Each argument had some validity and much was gained by the tone of the debate.

This country has undergone, if one listens to the media representatives, a transformation in the attitudes towards so many issues.
The attitude to the criminal punishment system.   The concept of marriage and child rearing.   Masculinity/femininity in all its form and competitive interplay.    Racial issues abound and bleed to the surface in the football arena, with the players and the crowd howling their opinion.     
Sexuality which largely defines each genders role in the cycle of procreation, a definition derided by a relatively small segment of society, who demand equality and would wish for us to believe, they are different but normal ?

Many of these issues have been given a good coating of media time over recent years, as the Politically Correct Intelligentsia have bombarded any view that differed from their own by a torrent of invective with the use of words like bigot and homophobic.

Years ago the policy on these issues was very much a reaction to unfair attitudes by the majority towards minorities and were necessary.

Today the bullied have become the bullies.  They choke off dissent and unhesitatingly belittle any opposition.
It is usual for the media, the Westminster bubble, the chattering classes to claim that there is unanimity today, across the populous in its support for much of the Political Correct Agenda.
My own experience is the opposite, with that much maligned, "man in the street", strongly opposed to the changes that are trumpeted by the Establishment.