Off The Road

Been on it quite a bit lately. In hope, in frustration, in reflection, in anticipation. There will be journeys in a few weeks but now it's time to sit still. Don't suppose that'll stop me, though.

New Game

"Fagin's Gang" was playtested yesterday with some popularity. Stealing is harder than you think. You have to be in the right place at the right time - not easy with the policemen moving you on and the other players stealing your turf. Deceptively simple and frustratingly complex.
A winner.

Rain rain go away come again another day

I suppose it really was a bit much putting the beer festival on Friday the 13th. Asking for it, you might say. Wetter outside than in, and so forth. Still Saturday was nice, made up for it, beer hadn't all run out, with a good band who seemed to have borrowed my record collection at one point. Get your tickets early next year.

And today is St. Swithin's Day. Which is not going to be good news for all those living on flood plains.

Travelling On

The Black Knight returned from the Great Archery Tourney at the Seaside. He unstringed his bow, broke his arrows and burned his quiver. He took off his armour, which had never really fit anyway, and gave it to his squire.

He kept the sword, for he'd need that, and he bought a new lance. He whitewashed the shield and repainted it in rainbow colours. Ready now.

Lances Leaving

The Black Knight turned his horse around for a last look at the Great Castle. From here he could just see the Keep. As the last of the light glinted off his broken lance, a fire could be seen in the Great Hall. It seemed smaller and darker somehow.

The Black Knight sat still for a moment and reflected.

The jousting was complete, the banquet demolished. The parchments were all scribed and the banners furled. Not all the maidens were rescued and not all the dragons slain, and there were a few ghosts left too, but a quest had been made. A promise honoured. The Great Book held the story.

The enchanted cave, off to one side, was silent, waiting for another to carry the Golden Bough. In the twilight it looked more like a tomb. The Black Knight sighed as he remembered his days as a squire. He'd carried the standard once. No more. The flags were bright then, the days long, the armour polished, and the carousing ... oh, the carousing.

In the distance, from the stables, a soft neigh. Or was it imagination? No, it was the wind of change rustling the trees.

The Black Knight dipped his lance briefly in mute (and mock) salute, drew his broadsword and hefted it against an unseen enemy in the night, then galloped off without a backward glance. A mace at his side, an open field, witches in their lair, what else would be found?

There are always more windmills to tilt at.

What have I been doing?

I went to the library and they showed me some books but they didn't teach me how to read.
I went to art college and we built a sculpture because they assumed I knew how to paint.
I went to football academy and we talked about the offside rule but I had to go and practice taking penalties by myself.
I went to a driving instructor and he showed me the highway code but he wouldn't let me drive.
I went to the chess club and we played draughts.
I went to a beauty parlour and they sold me a lipstick but it didn't make me beautiful.
I went to ballet school and they danced for me.
I went to church and they gave me bread and wine but didn't show me how to pray.
I went to the circus and they painted a face on me but I didn't feel like a clown.

So now when I go to the opera I can't sing and when I go to the races I can't ride and when I go shopping I don't know what to buy.

Fool Me Once Shame on You, Fool Me Twice Shame on Me

Aphorism quoted by Captain James T. Kirk but I don't remember the episode title (any geeks listening?). Kirk was not shamed, as he recognised the bluff the second time, but I was. Oops.

Situation is advertised as having character X with (perhaps) a small element of Y, but the reality is rather the other way round - large amount of Y is expected and is in truth the primary objective, while character X is subsidiary, possibly political, and cynically looked at might be a way to give a gloss, a superficial attractiveness, to the otherwise ordinary dullness (and financial rewards) of the tasks demanded in fulfilling element Y so that a better class of applicant might be interested, or so that it might be presented that way. Scent of fish abounds.

The point is that it has happened before (with the same elements X and Y) to me, almost identically. The second time, the bluff has to be more plausibly constructed - quite plausibly, in fact, good job etc - but should I have spotted it? There were some clues that should have been more closely scrutinised (well I was sick).

Any third attempts will be regarded most carefully if they appear to come from God himself.

I did at least find out the true situation, albeit very late in proceedings, and endeavour was not without value. Still somewhat of a disappointment from a seemingly august body of men and women of supposed integrity, not to say faith. But I'm happy not to have got the job (if you can ever say that).

Not Again

Well on the third day I am in recovery from what the doctors call "non-specific not-well-ness". This is apparently a technical term meaning "we don't know what caused it and we can't do anything about it, but there seems to be a lot of it about."

Twenty years in schools gave me an immune response so ferocious that nothing could get a foothold. Not anymore obviously. I have now been unwell twice in seven months when before twice in seven years was unthinkable. It is giving the essay problems. Two days lost to illness and three to interviews all within a fortnight (the last fortnight before the deadline) may cause some delay ...

Vinyl is Back

... how else can one greet the news that the vinyl 7" - how retro is that, thank you Jack White - of Icky Thump sold out at Virgin in less than a week? (OK they didn't exactly get sent hundreds).

And I didn't get one ...

But I did get some operatic metal and some Finnish as well as the new QOTSA and Biffy Clyro, so not entirely a wasted trip. The album of Icky Thump is out tomorrow.

Not so fresh in Bristol

The Fresh Expressions training day has been cancelled due to lack of support. Come on, people, what is going on? Very disappointing.

Nice to Feel Wanted

The application forms and the interview invitations are currently in one-to-one correspondence standing at two each. Well. it's a start, anyway.

The Black Knight

(Cue thundering guitar riff)
Black knight is not right.
I don't feel so bright.
I don't care to sit tight.

Maybe I'll find on the way down the line
That I'm free, free to be me.
Black knight is a long way from home.

Who needs a dark tree?
Who wants a rough sea?

(Chorus:) Black knight, black knight, we don't need a black knight.

I can't see - dark night.
Black knight is a long way from home.

With apologies to Ian Gillan - the master. Who knew?

The Dangers of Speaking with Your Mouth Full

Oh dear, getting behind with the posting. Just a short one for today. Went down the social club and had a very interesting chat with the Secretary of the Temperance Club about the difference between methylated spirits and ethyl alcohol. Unfortunately she was well over the limit herself. Never mind, eh, do as I say and not as I do?

Literary Tricks

(Re)discovered a figure of speech on "Eggheads" yesterday and wanted to compose a few. Two to go on with:

"Time ran out and so did the dog."

"I cleaned out the garage first and the casino second."

Eggheads called it zeugma but Wikipedia says this is syllepsis, a sub-category.

Quiet Day Quotes

"It was my grandfather that taught me how to kill."

"The body is like the benefit system; designed to fail you."

(Contributions welcomed.)

Edit: and the image of the day is M... in his woolly jumper modelling the "drug baron" look.

Suffering Schillebeeckx

(Catching up on Leading Thinkers)

Anyone who gets up the nose of the Pope is all right by me.

Revelation is to be mediated through experience (but not reduced to it). The subjective/objective is a false dichotomy.

Mystery, the unknown, mysterion (Graham and I thought they were in Captain Scarlet, but apparently that was somebody else.)

Rightness of belief must be expressed in a dialectic of theory and experience. God is a transformer (where do all the cartoon references fit in?) Jesus is an eschatological prophet, the paradigm of humanity.

Must live the story of Jesus to know the God of whom Jesus witnesses. Er.

It's all about being connected.

Is he just a 19th Century liberal? Or is he really undermining authority (stop cheering at the back)? And the ontological nature of the priesthood? (More cheers, suppressed.)

And just what is orthopraxis?

Abraham was a Grumpy Old Man

If he wasn't when he started he would have been after a bit, anyway. All that stuff about I've got this promise and then you get a gift and you have to promise to give it back and you don't actually have to in the end what is all that then why can't you just go about it in a straightforward manner, never mind having faith let's just say what we want shall we?

Anyway he went on a journey so I will too. Let's hope we can manage the direct route for once I don't have two hundred years.

Thoughts For the Eve of Ascension Day

The disciples did not know it until the next morning, but today is the day of closure before the start of the next phase. The waiting is finished, the unknowing and unknowable preparation has been done, the spaces are all filled. Even the i's are dotted (forgive the obtrusion). The resolution may be unexpected and shocking to some but it is resolved. Some will be happy, some will be perplexed, some are uncomfortable and inevitably some will misinterpret. How long was it before someone asked "did he really go to heaven?". Not long, I think. And then "did he come from heaven?" And then, and then .. and then the theologians got going.

No matter. The Rubicon is crossed. The gammon is averted. The study is closed. Not resignation, but a new game. The best one in town.

I have seen the sheepdogs learning new tricks.

Recipe for Disaster

Ingredients:
1 bushel of ambition
3 rivers of frustration
2 beating hearts
1 streak of defiance
1 cupful of salvation
2 fishy tails
1 flash of anger
1 well of tears
Lifetime's supply of love
Large dollop of forgiveness
Spark of creativity
Dash of hope
Large quantity of naivety and ignorance

For a really fiery mixture, marinade in a sense of history

Preparation Time: Long

Method:
Beat the ambition, love and frustration together until the skin is tender. Break the hearts and fold in.

Separate the mercy and discard (this can be fed to swine).

Chop the rest of the ingredients into small pieces, carefully remove the peace and add haphazardly.
Stir and stir again. If it does not settle, disinformation may be added.
Important: no respect should be included.

The confusion should be visible on the surface. Don't worry if it's a bit lumpy, it adds relish.

Roast the mixture under a high heat and grill on one side until flaming.
Warning: the mixture may spontaneously combust during this process. That is to be expected and quite normal. If it remains cool, boil the distressed mixture in ashes.

Strain.

Turn out.
Cover up with artificial sweetener.

A mock garnish may be added.

Do not serve.

At Odds With the Church

The radio came on this morning with the Today story about a Catholic priest, much loved by his flock, who has been removed from his post because he has broken the rules of the church. He got married. Another priest, his friend apparently, said that the rules must be obeyed because without the rules they would not be Catholics they would be Protestants or Jews. Perish the thought.

So Father Leon is not recognised as a priest because he sees a higher way. I wonder how he feels.