What can I say? I don't recollect too much, because it was quite a short conversation. And although it was odd, I didn't think too much about it. Had I only known what would happen afterwards.
Look, it was the end of a long day. There was a knock on the door. He had a foreign accent. He asked if we could go halves on buying a cat. And I thought, it's a bit strange but we do have a problem with mice.
Looking back, I feel kind of used.
Tuesday, 4 October 2011
Musical Interlude at a Humanist Funeral
It's always embarrassing when a phone goes off during a religious ceremony.
And particularly when it's actually... not a religious ceremony as such. An atheist funeral. Not a gig I'd normally pick up, but all the Secularist celebrants (is "celebrant" the right word in this case?) happened to have their anoraks in the dry-cleaners on the same day. So what the heck. A religious ceremony with no religious content - that can always be arranged for suitable expenses.
And of course, it's even more awkward when the ringtone comes out of the large pine box at the front. Apparently it had been left in his best suit and nobody thought to check.
But still - "We're on the Road to Nowhere" did seem quite appropriate.
And particularly when it's actually... not a religious ceremony as such. An atheist funeral. Not a gig I'd normally pick up, but all the Secularist celebrants (is "celebrant" the right word in this case?) happened to have their anoraks in the dry-cleaners on the same day. So what the heck. A religious ceremony with no religious content - that can always be arranged for suitable expenses.
And of course, it's even more awkward when the ringtone comes out of the large pine box at the front. Apparently it had been left in his best suit and nobody thought to check.
But still - "We're on the Road to Nowhere" did seem quite appropriate.
Pubs of England "in Serious Decline"
The Pubs of England are in serious decline.
Once a feature in every village in England, now closures are revealing the degree to which there has been a loss of belief in pubs.
"It's not that fewer people believe in the Pub," said Eddie Noggin, a landlord in Eastbourne. "Rather, our statistics are showing that people are coming to the pub more at special times - Christmas, for example, or after a funeral."
Mrs Bonce of Cambridge perhaps sums up the way the Pub has not so much been rejected in English life, as simply sidelined. "I don't call myself a drinker - more a bit inebriated," she told us, "and I don't need to go to the pub to get drunk - rather I believe that you can enjoy the presence of alcohol on your own, in the house or - especially - in the garden." Mrs Bonce then fell off her chair.
Of course, we could expect no sympathy for the Pub of England from the Guardian. Instead it has been the cheer-leader for the European-style "wine bars" that are common in parts of the Continent. The Guardian has been giving extensive coverage to the movement openly trying to persuade pubs to convert to wine bars - the Vin Ordinariate.
So for Mr Noggin and those like him the future looks uncertain. As rural pubs close those that remain will become the "local" for more and more villages. Some will try to hold fast to their traditions - grow roses outside the door, ban lager and flavoured pear ciders and stick to "1662" real, flat ale. While others will experiment with making their pubs "real" and relative - fun pubs, mega-pubs, gastro-pubs. Either way, in the cold light of a nation that no longer believes in Pub, the future looks bleak.
Once a feature in every village in England, now closures are revealing the degree to which there has been a loss of belief in pubs.
"It's not that fewer people believe in the Pub," said Eddie Noggin, a landlord in Eastbourne. "Rather, our statistics are showing that people are coming to the pub more at special times - Christmas, for example, or after a funeral."
Mrs Bonce of Cambridge perhaps sums up the way the Pub has not so much been rejected in English life, as simply sidelined. "I don't call myself a drinker - more a bit inebriated," she told us, "and I don't need to go to the pub to get drunk - rather I believe that you can enjoy the presence of alcohol on your own, in the house or - especially - in the garden." Mrs Bonce then fell off her chair.
Of course, we could expect no sympathy for the Pub of England from the Guardian. Instead it has been the cheer-leader for the European-style "wine bars" that are common in parts of the Continent. The Guardian has been giving extensive coverage to the movement openly trying to persuade pubs to convert to wine bars - the Vin Ordinariate.
So for Mr Noggin and those like him the future looks uncertain. As rural pubs close those that remain will become the "local" for more and more villages. Some will try to hold fast to their traditions - grow roses outside the door, ban lager and flavoured pear ciders and stick to "1662" real, flat ale. While others will experiment with making their pubs "real" and relative - fun pubs, mega-pubs, gastro-pubs. Either way, in the cold light of a nation that no longer believes in Pub, the future looks bleak.
Monday, 3 October 2011
Alternative Healing Service
Total shock for the Beaker People as we introduced the Alternative Healing Service. On the basis that "standard" healing for Beaker Folk normally consists of crystals, aromatherapy, homoeopathy and all such other junk - we got a proper doctor in to check them out.
The bad news was we got Doc Martin in. Apparently he's now healed everybody in Portwenn - each of whom had precisely one rare and unusual medical condition. So he could spare us some time, and everyone who came forward for healing received a precise and invariably accurate diagnosis and recommendation for their treatment.
Unfortunately, the brusque manner of the good Doctor has thoroughly annoyed the Folk. Most have declared that rather than suffer his total lack of bedside manner, they'll stick to the personable quacks they're used to. And the good news is that most of their normal charlatans' treatments are guaranteed to have no side effects. Because they have no effects whatsoever.
We promised, if they stuck with a proper doctor, that we'd pray for them. But apparently that's not good enough. Not enough mystery. So it's back to lavender oil and head massage, then.
The bad news was we got Doc Martin in. Apparently he's now healed everybody in Portwenn - each of whom had precisely one rare and unusual medical condition. So he could spare us some time, and everyone who came forward for healing received a precise and invariably accurate diagnosis and recommendation for their treatment.
Unfortunately, the brusque manner of the good Doctor has thoroughly annoyed the Folk. Most have declared that rather than suffer his total lack of bedside manner, they'll stick to the personable quacks they're used to. And the good news is that most of their normal charlatans' treatments are guaranteed to have no side effects. Because they have no effects whatsoever.
We promised, if they stuck with a proper doctor, that we'd pray for them. But apparently that's not good enough. Not enough mystery. So it's back to lavender oil and head massage, then.
George Bell Day (1958)
Hnaef has pointed out to me that it is George Bell Day today.
Bell is in many respects a great bishop. Brave, far-sighted, a great ecumenist. A tireless worker for the rights of oppressed of many nations - including, after the war, the Germans. An opponent of the bombing of civilians; a supporter of the Confessing Church. And, of course, utterly posh. Next time Dr Who goes back to WW2 he might do better to spend a day or two with Bishop Bell - who would probably explain that if you wipe out all the Daleks, and all your own people, in a Time War - then nobody wins.
So today our closing hymn will be "Don't let's be beastly to the Germans" - after which we will jump up and down on pictures of Noel Coward. I'm not saying George Bell would have approved, but at least we'll get some exercise.
Bell is in many respects a great bishop. Brave, far-sighted, a great ecumenist. A tireless worker for the rights of oppressed of many nations - including, after the war, the Germans. An opponent of the bombing of civilians; a supporter of the Confessing Church. And, of course, utterly posh. Next time Dr Who goes back to WW2 he might do better to spend a day or two with Bishop Bell - who would probably explain that if you wipe out all the Daleks, and all your own people, in a Time War - then nobody wins.
So today our closing hymn will be "Don't let's be beastly to the Germans" - after which we will jump up and down on pictures of Noel Coward. I'm not saying George Bell would have approved, but at least we'll get some exercise.
Sunday, 2 October 2011
Female Priests in the Roman Catholic Church
Rita posts on a woman at her church "squirming and struggling" when the priest said the priesthood was for men.
Well, yes.
My money is on the Apocalypse occuring in HD and Surround-sound, in a carbon copy of Drayton Parslow's dreamiest dreams, before the Roman Catholic Church ordained a woman priest. The woman in the row in front of Rita will die frustrated if she continues in (a) her beliefs and (b) her church. My sympathy is with her, but it ain't gonna happen. This is not like the Church of England, where things are constantly under negotiation. Nor the Methodists, where they can't see what all the fuss is about - having had female ministers for decades, who are just as good at the job as men. Nor the Beaker Folk of Husborne Crawley, where it's male archdruids that will never happen - men being the unstable, emotionally-inarticulate creatures that they are, bless them.
I'd suggest the woman concerned needs to change her denomination, or her views, or just lump it. Squirming's no real way forward.
Well, yes.
My money is on the Apocalypse occuring in HD and Surround-sound, in a carbon copy of Drayton Parslow's dreamiest dreams, before the Roman Catholic Church ordained a woman priest. The woman in the row in front of Rita will die frustrated if she continues in (a) her beliefs and (b) her church. My sympathy is with her, but it ain't gonna happen. This is not like the Church of England, where things are constantly under negotiation. Nor the Methodists, where they can't see what all the fuss is about - having had female ministers for decades, who are just as good at the job as men. Nor the Beaker Folk of Husborne Crawley, where it's male archdruids that will never happen - men being the unstable, emotionally-inarticulate creatures that they are, bless them.
I'd suggest the woman concerned needs to change her denomination, or her views, or just lump it. Squirming's no real way forward.
Harvest
Oh, there's nothing we Beaker People love better than a nice Harvest Festival. All is safely gathered in, ere the sub-cost-price deliveries to the major supermarkets begin - as our 101 Post-Modern Beaker Hymns put it.
Now, on the subject of exploitation and post-modernism. We had thought it would be fun - I mean, creative and moving - to include a pile of distressed jeans as part of our Harvest Offering. But we just kept running into problems. First up was when Burton didn't understand the concept, and just upset a bunch of Scottish women (so at least his trip to Corby wasn't wasted). But once we'd straightened that out, we discovered that the distressing of jeans is actually a terrible thing, devastating the health of the people who do the distressing.
So instead of having the jeans in the display we're going to be burning them later on in out Harvest Demand for Justice ritual. And I hope all the people visiting this site will avoid these products unless it can be proven the jeans have been distressed in a safe, environmentally safe manner. Leaving just the other 20,000 or so products we buy without really thinking about.
As usual we're going to be including a couple of vegetable innuendoes. But in an act of ecumenical generosity, we won't be doing the jokes ourselves. Instead we'll be sending Zonya round to Drayton Parslow's Festival of Frugality service with a couple of rather large melons. I'm sure he'll appreciate that.
The Harvest Auction is cancelled, by the way. Everyone is sick to death of buying their own vegetables back at inflated prices just to pump up community funds. Instead everyone can just give me a fiver each and we'll cut out the middle-people.
Now finally, instead of the traditional Winter Storms Beginning that we tend to have at this time of year it looks like being quite warm today. I think the Met Office has gone a little OTT suggesting that a couple of warm days in October - after a gray and miserable summer - are harbingers of a Reign of Fire, in which the world will be consumed in ashes. Still, better safe than sorry. So at this afternoon's Harvest Picnic, can everyone please bring - to cover all options - a Bible, a Rosary, a Methodist Hymn Book and a Little Book of Calm. Oh - and some suntan lotion, in case it just turns out to be a bit sunny.
So I hope you have a great Harvest Festival. The Corn Dollies are made, the air is thick with the scent of vegetables and the apples are rosy. Mother Gaia has been very bountiful. And so has Mr Phosphate and their little love-child, Baby Bio.
I won't be coming along myself. I've seen the punnets of over-ripe grapes that Orson has supplied, and I'm a bit concerned about a wasp-attack. But I'm sure it will be fine. God bless and good luck!
Saturday, 1 October 2011
He's not the messiah, he's just a cuddly comedian from Reading...
.... or so David Cloake tells us.
But on the subject of blokes trying to look like the Messiah - read the Thirsty Gurgoyle! (I refuse to use the alternative spelling). Brilliant, brilliant. Go now.
But on the subject of blokes trying to look like the Messiah - read the Thirsty Gurgoyle! (I refuse to use the alternative spelling). Brilliant, brilliant. Go now.
Dr Who and the Celtic Twilight
A land of mists and magic.
A time of talking dragons.
A land where the government oppresses the members of a religion - and yet the rulers never seem to have any religion of their own - despite the mists and magic, the dragons and the other religion. So the BBC can cleverly have a pop at Christian intolerance without naming it.
A 5th Century where the dominant mode of discourse is post-modern irony.
A Camelot where the enemy is the Celt not the English.
Don't die, Doctor! Please don't leave us! Though you were impossible, too clever by half, over-wrought, over-complex, over budget, and totally wasted the Cyberpeople (why "men"? Where's the equal opportunties for people who through no fault of their own have been converted into androids with no emotions?) And though - despite the money and the hype and the CGI (or maybe because of it) you were terribly, terribly lazy....
Don't do it, Doctor! Don't leave us to Merlin.....
Aaaaaaaaagh!
A time of talking dragons.
A land where the government oppresses the members of a religion - and yet the rulers never seem to have any religion of their own - despite the mists and magic, the dragons and the other religion. So the BBC can cleverly have a pop at Christian intolerance without naming it.
A 5th Century where the dominant mode of discourse is post-modern irony.
A Camelot where the enemy is the Celt not the English.
Don't die, Doctor! Please don't leave us! Though you were impossible, too clever by half, over-wrought, over-complex, over budget, and totally wasted the Cyberpeople (why "men"? Where's the equal opportunties for people who through no fault of their own have been converted into androids with no emotions?) And though - despite the money and the hype and the CGI (or maybe because of it) you were terribly, terribly lazy....
Don't do it, Doctor! Don't leave us to Merlin.....
Aaaaaaaaagh!
A world too round - Columbus and the Cardinals
"Starting a war on false pretenses is nothing new. But when a few nineteenth-century academicians declared a science-vs.-religion war, they did us all a disservice."
"There never was a flat earth dogma. When Columbus faced off with the Spanish cardinals, the issue was the size of the earth, not its shape. And the Cardinals were right: the earth was a heck of a lot bigger than Columbus believed. His mission was ill-conceived, and it failed. But it failed gloriously. Columbus went to his grave erroneously thinking he had bumped into some far corner of Asia."
Source.
Never realised Columbus had a face-off with any cardinals. But it seems there is a myth that people in the Middle Ages all thought the earth was flat. They didn't - as shown by QI and even this creationist website goes to a lot of trouble to prove the idea of a flat-earth is silly.
But I'm still a bit worried. If the world's not flat, why do people still fall off the edge when they try to go to Leighton Buzzard?
"There never was a flat earth dogma. When Columbus faced off with the Spanish cardinals, the issue was the size of the earth, not its shape. And the Cardinals were right: the earth was a heck of a lot bigger than Columbus believed. His mission was ill-conceived, and it failed. But it failed gloriously. Columbus went to his grave erroneously thinking he had bumped into some far corner of Asia."
Source.
Never realised Columbus had a face-off with any cardinals. But it seems there is a myth that people in the Middle Ages all thought the earth was flat. They didn't - as shown by QI and even this creationist website goes to a lot of trouble to prove the idea of a flat-earth is silly.
But I'm still a bit worried. If the world's not flat, why do people still fall off the edge when they try to go to Leighton Buzzard?
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