A laptop hath but a short time to live, and is full of whirrings. It booteth up, and is powered down, its hard drive grindeth like a mill, then it never continueth one day when thou needest it most.
In the midst of operating life we are in risk of viruses: of whom may we seek for succour, but of AVG, who poppest up annoying ads and is most displeased with our browser histories?
But if we are wise and take aforethought we shall have made backups, and the My Documents folder will live once again. Or if we kept everything on OneDrive then we need not fear laptop death. As long as we remember our password.
Or else we may end up faffing around with cables and unusual interface connectors, and trying to get data off the device that caused all the trouble in the first place.
And we shall always feel guilty we didn't recycle it properly. But we would have worried then that someone was finding out our innermost secrets.
Forasmuch as it hath pleased us to find a replacement for the laptop here departed: we therefore commit its pieces to the landfill; rare earth to earth, Windows to darkness, bus to dust; in sure and certain hope of the new one being quicker; whose grubby casing shall be replaced with a shiny new model. or maybe just a tablet. After all, who needs an actual keyboard these days? You just want to be able to get on Facebook when you're sitting on the couch.
Saturday, 11 November 2017
Thursday, 9 November 2017
A Service Of Fulsome Apology
This morning's Apology will have a special intention for those that don't really understand what "fulsome" means.
Wednesday, 8 November 2017
Stacey Bushes Sacked
It is with regret that I have had to announce the resignation of Stacey Bushes as my Ecumenical Development Officer. I'll let her know as soon as she gets back from Walsingham.
While she was on holiday in Rome it appears that she obtained an audience with the Pope. Her claim that she received important information on his Catholicity is irrelevant. Apparently she offered that as long as we can use the "Beaker Rite" we would be happy to rejoin the Catholic Faith
With any other Pope the idea of a group of neo-hippies and semi-pagans led by a female Archdruid would be anathema. But, this being the imaginary Pope who lives in the heads of some traditionalist Catholics, he thought it was a great idea.
Except I don't. If I can't be a Cardinal I'm not interested.
And Stacey is still being resigned.
Tuesday, 7 November 2017
Aziz and Toby
Just so all Beaker Folk know - we're going to be doing some Business Process Re-engineering over the next few weeks.
I've been worried that the way we process - sorry, induct - new Beaker People is a bit ropy. Also that the processes for goods receiving in the Beaker Bazaar is a bit longwinded. Especially for those doilies that we produce in our very own doily shed. So we need to find better ways to manage these important functions.
So we've brought in a couple of Business Analysts. To avoid confusion when you meet them. Aziz is doing the "to-be" processes. And Toby is documenting the "as-is."
I've been worried that the way we process - sorry, induct - new Beaker People is a bit ropy. Also that the processes for goods receiving in the Beaker Bazaar is a bit longwinded. Especially for those doilies that we produce in our very own doily shed. So we need to find better ways to manage these important functions.
So we've brought in a couple of Business Analysts. To avoid confusion when you meet them. Aziz is doing the "to-be" processes. And Toby is documenting the "as-is."
Church Definitions : Worship
Worship (n)
1. The act of expressing love to something, esp a deity2. To ascribe worth to.
3. A period of singing during a church service (now moving into a time of...) between the bits that therefore aren't worship.
4. Not that the notices aren't worship. Oh no.
5. That's why we sometimes pray for the notices.
6. Can go on for hours sometimes, praying for the notices.
7. But it's quite boring so maybe it's not worship?
8. Try again... The parts of service that are interesting.
9. Except not the dismissal, though quite often that must be interesting as we're looking forward to it.
10. And you're going to have a cup of tea and then go into all the world (or mid Bedfordshire at least) and make disciples. Surely that must be worship?
11. Didn't George Herbert say something about sweeping floors? Can't see how that's worship. Cos it's not singing and it's not fun.
12. Unless you sing while you're sweeping the floor.
13. This is really tricky.
14. Frankly I wish I'd not started it.
15. And this isn't how dictionary definitions work.
By the creator of the Beaker Folk. "Writes of the Church" answers those all-important questions. How do you back the Sunday School Teacher when she's resigned? How do kids react if you run around with a pumpkin on your head? And what keeps you in church if you don't believe in God and you hate the worship?
Monday, 6 November 2017
Liturgy of the First Frosty Morning Service
Archdruid: Morning. Cold one.
Hnaef: Brrr yep.
Both may stamp their feet and/or rub their hands together.
Archdruid: Just us two then?
Hnaef: Yep. The Faithful Few.
Archdruid: Shall we keep it short? Just pour out the Beakers and get some breakfast?
Hnaef: Sounds good to me.
Archdruid: OK. Let's crack on.
They pour out the beakers.
Archdruid: Is it meant to "thud" like that?
Hnaef: I said it was a cold one.
Archdruid: OK. May the sun be on your hat, and the frost around your ears. May be bike tyres be fully pumped, and your LED lights still have some charge. May the road be soft to meet you, should you fall off.
Hnaef: There and back again.
Both: Amen.
Hnaef: Brrr yep.
Both may stamp their feet and/or rub their hands together.
Archdruid: Just us two then?
Hnaef: Yep. The Faithful Few.
Archdruid: Shall we keep it short? Just pour out the Beakers and get some breakfast?
Hnaef: Sounds good to me.
Archdruid: OK. Let's crack on.
They pour out the beakers.
Archdruid: Is it meant to "thud" like that?
Hnaef: I said it was a cold one.
Archdruid: OK. May the sun be on your hat, and the frost around your ears. May be bike tyres be fully pumped, and your LED lights still have some charge. May the road be soft to meet you, should you fall off.
Hnaef: There and back again.
Both: Amen.
Sunday, 5 November 2017
Humanist Funeral Elephant
Just read the sad news about Meryl Flint dying, in the Trim Valley Notices. I don't mean he was crushed to death by a massive pile of leaflets. I mean, that's where I found out about it.
He was an old misanthropist who hated the congregation and only went to Church so he could complain about the services. I shall miss him. Shame no Church people are allowed at his funeral.
However it reminded of that time I was invited to a service that was to be led by a "Humanist Elephant." Naturally I assumed it was a humorous autocorrect for "Celebrant."
You know, that elephant led the most sensitive, touching humanist service I have ever been to. Albeit she crushed the pulpit when she leaned on it to make a particularly important point.
Afterwards I asked why she'd decided to embrace humanism. She said as a calf, they'd been taught that if they behaved, and carried tourists round the zoo, they'd be buried in the Elephant Graveyard and go to Elephant Heaven, where buns run freely and there are no mice.
But bad elephants, she was told, went to Elephant Hell, where there are low ceilings and they're eternally stalked by ivory hunters. And she was so scarred by this terrible image that, ever since, she has vowed to reject the cruel Elephant God and embrace a logical worldview - based only on what she can see in this world.
See, that's the trouble with humanists.
They never forget.
He was an old misanthropist who hated the congregation and only went to Church so he could complain about the services. I shall miss him. Shame no Church people are allowed at his funeral.
However it reminded of that time I was invited to a service that was to be led by a "Humanist Elephant." Naturally I assumed it was a humorous autocorrect for "Celebrant."
You know, that elephant led the most sensitive, touching humanist service I have ever been to. Albeit she crushed the pulpit when she leaned on it to make a particularly important point.
Afterwards I asked why she'd decided to embrace humanism. She said as a calf, they'd been taught that if they behaved, and carried tourists round the zoo, they'd be buried in the Elephant Graveyard and go to Elephant Heaven, where buns run freely and there are no mice.
But bad elephants, she was told, went to Elephant Hell, where there are low ceilings and they're eternally stalked by ivory hunters. And she was so scarred by this terrible image that, ever since, she has vowed to reject the cruel Elephant God and embrace a logical worldview - based only on what she can see in this world.
See, that's the trouble with humanists.
They never forget.
Looking for a Christmas present for the churchgoer in your life? Or are you in need of a book to make you laugh at and think about the church? Well you probably need "Writes of the Church - Gripes and Grumbles of People in the Pews" - a perfect stocking filler. From Amazon, BRF and good Christian bookshops.
 |
| Writes of the Church - On sale now and perfect for Christmas |
Saturday, 4 November 2017
Marston Goes on a Poppy Frenzy
Is it me or does the date for frenzies over people wearing poppies get earlier every year?
Marston Moretaine's just got back from Milton Keynes. I say got back. He appears to have been removed from the town by a combination of the police and the Royal British Legion.
He was apparently breaching the peace by harassing anyone not wearing what, in Marston's opinion, was the right poppy.
Anybody wearing no poppy got accused of being a "traitor and probably a Libtard Remainer who probably wants to live in Belgium after Brexit. You should stay here and suffer like the rest of us."
Anybody wearing a white poppy was told they were a "traitor and pacifist, wanting to sell this country down the river to the Welsh." Marston has never been very good at geography or world history, hence his repeated claims that "Britain has never been a part of Europe."
Then he was running to up small children, pointing out them and screaming "What did you do in the War, Fritz?"
I mean, I don't know why he thinks he's hard done by, getting thrown out of Buckinghamshire like that. He says he was only expressing his freedom of speech. But that doesn't cover taking pictures of all the non-red-poppy-wearers with the intention of updating his Facebook photo album "Quislings and Enemies of the State."
Anyway. He was getting so ranty when he was back that I felt drastic measures were required. So I showed him my proposed "rainbow poppy." I was thinking that maybe next year we could sell them in aid of LGBTI+ veterans, charging merely a reasonable admin fee. But it certainly had the required effect. Marston passed out, overcome by pure self-righteousness.
I tell you what. It will be a relief when we reach November 12. That's when Marston puts his poppy back into that little china jug he keeps on the dresser for that specific reason.
Then next year on 16 October, he'll take it out again. He hasn't actually bought one since 1993.
Marston Moretaine's just got back from Milton Keynes. I say got back. He appears to have been removed from the town by a combination of the police and the Royal British Legion.
He was apparently breaching the peace by harassing anyone not wearing what, in Marston's opinion, was the right poppy.
Anybody wearing no poppy got accused of being a "traitor and probably a Libtard Remainer who probably wants to live in Belgium after Brexit. You should stay here and suffer like the rest of us."
Anybody wearing a white poppy was told they were a "traitor and pacifist, wanting to sell this country down the river to the Welsh." Marston has never been very good at geography or world history, hence his repeated claims that "Britain has never been a part of Europe."
Then he was running to up small children, pointing out them and screaming "What did you do in the War, Fritz?"
I mean, I don't know why he thinks he's hard done by, getting thrown out of Buckinghamshire like that. He says he was only expressing his freedom of speech. But that doesn't cover taking pictures of all the non-red-poppy-wearers with the intention of updating his Facebook photo album "Quislings and Enemies of the State."
Anyway. He was getting so ranty when he was back that I felt drastic measures were required. So I showed him my proposed "rainbow poppy." I was thinking that maybe next year we could sell them in aid of LGBTI+ veterans, charging merely a reasonable admin fee. But it certainly had the required effect. Marston passed out, overcome by pure self-righteousness.
I tell you what. It will be a relief when we reach November 12. That's when Marston puts his poppy back into that little china jug he keeps on the dresser for that specific reason.
Then next year on 16 October, he'll take it out again. He hasn't actually bought one since 1993.
Like to laugh about the church but need it in paper form? Then you probably need "Writes of the Church - Gripes and Grumbles of People in the Pews" by the creator of "The Beaker Folk". From Amazon, BRF and good Christian bookshops.
|
| Writes of the Church - On sale now and perfect for Christmas |
The Wild Hunt - With Health and Safety
Fascinated by this Saturday's Samhain Wild Hunt with the Somerset Dragons at Glastonbury. With Halloween transferred to the nearest Saturday. Presumably in an ecumenical gesture to all the churches transferring All Saints to Sunday.
The Wild Hunt appears to be more of a tourist attraction than a neopagan ritual. With a Town Crier, for extra authenticity. It offers prizes for best Fancy Dress, apart from anything else. And it finishes at twilight - I presume they mean dusk, not dawn. Well you wouldn't want to go Wild Hunting in the dark. It'd be dangerous. And there might be ghosts. If it were actually Halloween.
The leader of the Glastonbury Wild Hunt seems to be the Welsh wizard/king/ruler of the underworld. A Welsh figure? In Somerset? As a Saxon said to me, "we won - get over it." And to hear the Wild Hunt - also Gabriel's Hounds in England (where Glastonbury is) means death in the community - not a jolly stroll round a town in the hope of selling extra dream catchers.
So I wonder. Retailing ancient wisdom and legends as modern day entertainment? Where will it all end?
The Wild Hunt appears to be more of a tourist attraction than a neopagan ritual. With a Town Crier, for extra authenticity. It offers prizes for best Fancy Dress, apart from anything else. And it finishes at twilight - I presume they mean dusk, not dawn. Well you wouldn't want to go Wild Hunting in the dark. It'd be dangerous. And there might be ghosts. If it were actually Halloween.
The leader of the Glastonbury Wild Hunt seems to be the Welsh wizard/king/ruler of the underworld. A Welsh figure? In Somerset? As a Saxon said to me, "we won - get over it." And to hear the Wild Hunt - also Gabriel's Hounds in England (where Glastonbury is) means death in the community - not a jolly stroll round a town in the hope of selling extra dream catchers.
So I wonder. Retailing ancient wisdom and legends as modern day entertainment? Where will it all end?
"Writes of the Church - Gripes and Grumbles of People in the Pews" By the creator of the Beaker Folk. From Amazon, BRF and good Christian bookshops.
|
| Writes of the Church - On sale now and perfect for Christmas |
Friday, 3 November 2017
Thought for the Day - With John Humphrys
"Hello, John. And Hello, John.
Now why didn't I think of this before? 2 minutes and 45 seconds when I don't have to interrupt the person I'm interviewing. Because it's me talking all the time, without any politician, footballer, or member of Christian Voice who we only brought in for balance.
Because, let's face it, we don't really need balance. You've got me. John Humphrys. Who needs a celebrity, a minister of the Crown, or indeed Giles Fraser? Or God himself. If God exists, and isn't just a projection of me. I am sufficient. I am all in all. I am John Humphrys. And that is all you need.
I mean. At 600K a year - what's the point of having other people talking? Fundamentally it's me you're paying for. And that means, if I do Thought for the Day, you're really getting a few hundred quids' worth of solid Humphrys for nothing. You know it makes sense. In a very real sense.
And people sometimes ask me - in these troubled times, what do the stories of Abraham, Moses and Ghandi have to do with common people? And I say - nothing. Focus on what's more important. Nearly an extra 3 minutes of me, without even needing somebody else that I can interrupt.
This is BBC Radio Humphrys. And I think we can all learn something from this.
In a very real sense.
And now over to John Humphrys, who'll be interrupting Prue Leith about cakes."
Now why didn't I think of this before? 2 minutes and 45 seconds when I don't have to interrupt the person I'm interviewing. Because it's me talking all the time, without any politician, footballer, or member of Christian Voice who we only brought in for balance.
Because, let's face it, we don't really need balance. You've got me. John Humphrys. Who needs a celebrity, a minister of the Crown, or indeed Giles Fraser? Or God himself. If God exists, and isn't just a projection of me. I am sufficient. I am all in all. I am John Humphrys. And that is all you need.
I mean. At 600K a year - what's the point of having other people talking? Fundamentally it's me you're paying for. And that means, if I do Thought for the Day, you're really getting a few hundred quids' worth of solid Humphrys for nothing. You know it makes sense. In a very real sense.
And people sometimes ask me - in these troubled times, what do the stories of Abraham, Moses and Ghandi have to do with common people? And I say - nothing. Focus on what's more important. Nearly an extra 3 minutes of me, without even needing somebody else that I can interrupt.
This is BBC Radio Humphrys. And I think we can all learn something from this.
In a very real sense.
And now over to John Humphrys, who'll be interrupting Prue Leith about cakes."
Looking for a Christmas present for the churchgoer in your life? Or are you in need of a book to make you laugh at and think about the church? Well you probably need "Writes of the Church - Gripes and Grumbles of People in the Pews" - a perfect stocking filler. From Amazon, BRF and good Christian bookshops.
|
| Writes of the Church - On sale now and perfect for Christmas |
Thursday, 2 November 2017
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