You'll have to bear with me on this one. We're going down a rather darker alley than we have trodden so far - an alley that will lead us back to the year 1255 before heading to more recent, though no lighter, times.
When I was at school (no, this isn't the mediaeval bit, thank you) I was lucky to have an extremely good English teacher. As well as covering Shakespeare we delved into the murky world of English and Scottish ballads. The word 'ballad' has been misappropriated somewhat recently and is now associated with the sort of love songs that famous mono-brow Chris de Burgh seemed to have made his own when 'Lady in Red' was released. Originally a ballad was simply a song that told a story. Ballads were written about love, sure, but it was either unrequited, or extremely well requited. Many ballads have a supernatural element which lift them above the ordinary.
One that we studied was called "Little Sir Hugh". This song was covered by 60's folk-rock combo Steeleye Span on the album "Commoner's Crown".
In this tale the titular hero is harmlessly playing ball when he acidentally kicks said item over the castle wall. He asks for his ball back but gets ritually sacrificed instead. The song is pretty gaphic, particularly when dealing with poor Hugh's body being bled:-
Out came the thick, thick blood,
Out came the thin,
Out came the bonny heart's-blood,
'Til there was none within.
Hugh's body is then chucked down a well. This is where the Span version ends.
The original versions contain rather more detail. Church bells ring out without the attention of bellringers and the bibles sing out the whereabouts of the poor unfortunate lad's body.
The original also states that the castle over which wall Hugh's ball is kicked belongs to the "Jew".
Today this is shocking enough - at least it should be. The story is made even more shocking when you realise that it is based, at least in part, on factual events.
In August 1255 a young lad of eight years was found dead in a stream near Lincoln. Six months prior to this, the king, Henry III, had lost a large source of income to his brother. As mediaeval England was largely bankrolled by Jewish moneylenders he decided that all lands and titles owned by Jews who were convicted of any crime would be forfeit to the crown.
A Jew named Copin admitted to killing Hugh after being threatened with torture. His confession stated that Jews crucified a Christian child every year, bleeding them dry. Some ninety Jews were rounded up in the Lincoln area. Eighteen of them were hanged and their property seized.
Only a few years prior to this, in 1190, Jews had been massacred in York because of the money owed by the king to moneylenders. He tapped into a deep grain of anti-semitism that threaded right through English society and used his appointed sherriffs to incite riots.
And what was this hatred based upon? The belief that Jews had killed Christ.
For this piece I shall gloss over the whole theological issue of Christ's "death" and just focus on the fact that this hatred was based on faith - and by faith I mean "belief in something for which there is no evidence".
Unfortunately, such faith is still appallingly prevalent, and it still kills.
Elizabeth Ashley King, aged 12, died in 1988 of bone cancer. Her tumour was over a yard in circumference and she was in appalling pain. She was placed in the care of the Phoenix Christian Science nursing home. The only treatment they gave her was prayer.
Elizabeth's death and the murder of the Jews following Hugh's unfortunate demise are the result of the same thing - religious ignorance and the willingness of the faithful to act on belief without evidence.
Monday, 9 March 2009
Saturday, 7 March 2009
Genetics and the Art of Government
For those of you lucky enough to live in foreign climes (foreign to the UK I mean, obviously I live in foreign climes to some of you but, being English, I would never admit to that) I have one thing to say - stay there.
I say this not to be rude, but because we have a Labour government. The last time we had a Labour government the country stopped, fell over and waved its little leggies in the air. There were strikes, three-day working weeks, power-cuts and the binmen refused to collect refuse (love the English language for allowing me to write that!).
I don't actually have a problem with many general Labour policies - I am all for a fairer society and I love the National Health Service. No, what I object to is the appalling execution of policies.
Take, for example, the British aviation industry.
It may surprise some readers to discover that we actually used to have an aviation industry. Not only did we have one, it was one of the best in the world. Innovative designs would roll out of the hangar doors every week. From the Spitfire, which is still the best looking piece of flying metal ever produced, to the English Electric Lightning, which only now with the introduction of the brand-new Typhoon is finding its climb-rate equalled, we made the best.
King of this pile was the BAC TSR.2. Only plane buffs will have heard of this but, on its maiden flight in 1964 it outstripped anything in front-line service at the time. It managed to reach supersonic speeds without the use of afterburners and could accelerate away from the Lightning chase planes with only one afterburner lit.
A year later the incoming Labour government, despite issuing strong denials, cancelled the project, destroyed the plans and jigs and sent the one flying airframe away to be used as target practice. And this was done in order to buy American F111 aircraft - aircraft which were less capable in every respect and which proved to be just as costly to run. These were in turn dumped in favour of the Panavia Tornado which utilised avionics developed for - you guessed it - TSR.2.
Labour then nationalised the aviation industry thereby turning small, effective, innovative companies into a bloated, expensive leviathan.
So - what has this got to do with the current incumbents?
My belief is that governments inherit the genetic identity of their previous selves. We have had wildcat strikes, appalling management of business and denial following denial. We have a government fundamentally incapable of accepting responsibility for its actions while simultaneously distrusting its voters to the extent that it, under the pretext of saving them from 'terrorists', places them under 24 hour surveillance to an extent unrivalled in the Western world.
Of course, this means that when the conservatives get in next time a general election is held, as get in they will, we will have the joy of watching miners and police fighting and of bashing the Argentinians.
Maybe it's time for a change. Maybe we need to give someone who hasn't got in before a crack of the whip.
If only Screaming Lord Sutch was still alive.
I say this not to be rude, but because we have a Labour government. The last time we had a Labour government the country stopped, fell over and waved its little leggies in the air. There were strikes, three-day working weeks, power-cuts and the binmen refused to collect refuse (love the English language for allowing me to write that!).
I don't actually have a problem with many general Labour policies - I am all for a fairer society and I love the National Health Service. No, what I object to is the appalling execution of policies.
Take, for example, the British aviation industry.
It may surprise some readers to discover that we actually used to have an aviation industry. Not only did we have one, it was one of the best in the world. Innovative designs would roll out of the hangar doors every week. From the Spitfire, which is still the best looking piece of flying metal ever produced, to the English Electric Lightning, which only now with the introduction of the brand-new Typhoon is finding its climb-rate equalled, we made the best.
King of this pile was the BAC TSR.2. Only plane buffs will have heard of this but, on its maiden flight in 1964 it outstripped anything in front-line service at the time. It managed to reach supersonic speeds without the use of afterburners and could accelerate away from the Lightning chase planes with only one afterburner lit.
A year later the incoming Labour government, despite issuing strong denials, cancelled the project, destroyed the plans and jigs and sent the one flying airframe away to be used as target practice. And this was done in order to buy American F111 aircraft - aircraft which were less capable in every respect and which proved to be just as costly to run. These were in turn dumped in favour of the Panavia Tornado which utilised avionics developed for - you guessed it - TSR.2.
Labour then nationalised the aviation industry thereby turning small, effective, innovative companies into a bloated, expensive leviathan.
So - what has this got to do with the current incumbents?
My belief is that governments inherit the genetic identity of their previous selves. We have had wildcat strikes, appalling management of business and denial following denial. We have a government fundamentally incapable of accepting responsibility for its actions while simultaneously distrusting its voters to the extent that it, under the pretext of saving them from 'terrorists', places them under 24 hour surveillance to an extent unrivalled in the Western world.
Of course, this means that when the conservatives get in next time a general election is held, as get in they will, we will have the joy of watching miners and police fighting and of bashing the Argentinians.
Maybe it's time for a change. Maybe we need to give someone who hasn't got in before a crack of the whip.
If only Screaming Lord Sutch was still alive.
Thursday, 5 March 2009
Banging the Drum in Public
You may not immediately see the connection between an Irish folk drum and evolution. That is because you are at the start, and not the end, of this piece. By the time you have reached the end the connection will, I hope, be clear.
So - to start. Many years ago I bought a bodhran*. For those who are either not folkies or are not fluent in Gaelic, which I will assume to be the majority, this is the instrument developed by the Irish in which a drum is held upright in one hand and the stick (or tipper) is held in the other. The stick is then rapped against the skin in a seemingly random way.
I spent quite a few years learning to play it before inflicting it upon the public. This may surprise some but the bodhran is capable of surprising subtlety. The left hand rests against the skin inside the drum and its position changes the tone produced when the skin is struck. A good player can produce over an octave from it, a really good player can even pick out tunes.
I attanded Chippenham Folk Festival some years ago and bought a new bodhran from a fantastically drunk chap early one morning. It looks quite nasty but it has a beautiful tone, is tuneable and has lasted over ten years. I took my new drum to a pub session and settled down with a fiddle player and, joy of joys, a piper. After about an hour more musicians arrived along with, and this is where we begin to come to the Point, more people with bodhrans, who started playing.
When I say 'playing', of course, what I mean is hitting their drums loudly and vaguely. There were a multitude and when I realised they were there for the duration I made my apologies and left.
The Point:- Would these people have done the same thing with any other instrument? Would they have bought a fiddle or guitar and settled down and screeched in public, with good musicians, without having learnt to play? Answer - no!
The Point -Part 2.
Why is it that a certain type of person - usually someone with a devout belief in a god of some description - feels that they are able to criticise the Theory of Evolution without actually spending the time to understand it?
Why is it that time and again I hear the 'argument' - "if we evolved from monkeys why are there still monkeys around"?
Why is it that Evolution is the only Theory about which people seem to think they are able to spout forth without fore-knowledge? Where are the people who say "This gravity idea's rubbish"? Or "So - the Germ Theory of disease, I just don't buy it". Why are they not so willing to make ridiculous statements about particle physics unless those statements contradict evolution? (The standard is the "Carbon Dating shows the wrong dates for fossils" bunkum).
I assume it's because either:-
a) The teaching of evolution in schools is universally poor. Certainly in my own country the Theory that has been described as one of the most important to ever be devised is skipped over lightly if it is covered at all.
b) For some reason evolution is viewed by the Bible- and Qur'an-thumping proles as a direct threat to their belief.
If it is the former one would imagine that it was easy to rectify - make space in the over-worked curriculum for it. After all we cover Newton and Archimedes, so why not Darwin? Evolution also has the benefit of being easy to understand and involving no equations.
If it is the latter then one must ask the question "how secure are you in your faith that the truth rocks it so much?"
*Bodhran - pronounced bowrawn. Only the Irish can produce a drum with one stick and a language with silent consonents.
So - to start. Many years ago I bought a bodhran*. For those who are either not folkies or are not fluent in Gaelic, which I will assume to be the majority, this is the instrument developed by the Irish in which a drum is held upright in one hand and the stick (or tipper) is held in the other. The stick is then rapped against the skin in a seemingly random way.
I spent quite a few years learning to play it before inflicting it upon the public. This may surprise some but the bodhran is capable of surprising subtlety. The left hand rests against the skin inside the drum and its position changes the tone produced when the skin is struck. A good player can produce over an octave from it, a really good player can even pick out tunes.
I attanded Chippenham Folk Festival some years ago and bought a new bodhran from a fantastically drunk chap early one morning. It looks quite nasty but it has a beautiful tone, is tuneable and has lasted over ten years. I took my new drum to a pub session and settled down with a fiddle player and, joy of joys, a piper. After about an hour more musicians arrived along with, and this is where we begin to come to the Point, more people with bodhrans, who started playing.
When I say 'playing', of course, what I mean is hitting their drums loudly and vaguely. There were a multitude and when I realised they were there for the duration I made my apologies and left.
The Point:- Would these people have done the same thing with any other instrument? Would they have bought a fiddle or guitar and settled down and screeched in public, with good musicians, without having learnt to play? Answer - no!
The Point -Part 2.
Why is it that a certain type of person - usually someone with a devout belief in a god of some description - feels that they are able to criticise the Theory of Evolution without actually spending the time to understand it?
Why is it that time and again I hear the 'argument' - "if we evolved from monkeys why are there still monkeys around"?
Why is it that Evolution is the only Theory about which people seem to think they are able to spout forth without fore-knowledge? Where are the people who say "This gravity idea's rubbish"? Or "So - the Germ Theory of disease, I just don't buy it". Why are they not so willing to make ridiculous statements about particle physics unless those statements contradict evolution? (The standard is the "Carbon Dating shows the wrong dates for fossils" bunkum).
I assume it's because either:-
a) The teaching of evolution in schools is universally poor. Certainly in my own country the Theory that has been described as one of the most important to ever be devised is skipped over lightly if it is covered at all.
b) For some reason evolution is viewed by the Bible- and Qur'an-thumping proles as a direct threat to their belief.
If it is the former one would imagine that it was easy to rectify - make space in the over-worked curriculum for it. After all we cover Newton and Archimedes, so why not Darwin? Evolution also has the benefit of being easy to understand and involving no equations.
If it is the latter then one must ask the question "how secure are you in your faith that the truth rocks it so much?"
*Bodhran - pronounced bowrawn. Only the Irish can produce a drum with one stick and a language with silent consonents.
Tuesday, 3 March 2009
Green Moustache
I'll nail my colours to the mast right at the outset. I live as green a life as I can and I truly believe that more people should embrace the joys of home-grown and local produce. We should use cars less than we do. I'll even go so far to say that we should probably eat less meat than we do, although as a rampant omnivore this is more about the appalling quality of meat in most supermarkets than any moral qualms.
I am, however, pretty much ready to give my colours some company on the mast and would like to nominate Dick Strawbridge to be so honoured.
I am aware that many of the potential audience for this ramble are of non-UK origin and so for them I shall provide a smidgeon of background.
Some years ago Channel 4, one of our once great television channels, commissioned a series called "Scrapheap Challenge" (Americans will know it as "Junkyard Wars"). On this programme teams are given challenges to design and make different, usually destructive, gadgets each week and pit them against each other. One particularly successful team was the "Brothers in Arms", a strange set of brothers who all spent time in the army, hence the witty title.
Head of this little crew was the magnificently moustachioed Dick Strawbridge. He led his team to victory several times and then disappeared from our screens.
He re-appeared a couple of years later in an entertaining programme that showed his and his family's efforts to be as green as possible. He bought a run-down farmhouse and set up a watermill to provide electricity, got pigs and chickens and all was hunky-dory.
So far so jealous.
However...
Since then he has appeared on our screens again, this time telling various celebrities how wasteful and appalling their lifestyles are.
I, for one, am now getting more than a little exasperated with the seemingly constant pressure to eschew modern life. I know full well that should everyone live the way I do we would require more planets than we have currently available. I also know that there is little more I can practically do as an individual.
When I find work again I will need to travel to get there. Until such a time as we get a government capable of realising that the majority of people live outside the reach of London's underground network and therefore would require investment in public transport in order to facilitate leaving the car at home I shall need to drive.
Although we do a decent job of growing fruit and veg in the garden there's no way I can be self-sufficient with the amount of land I own. In fact, for everyone to be green and self-sufficient the way young Dick would like would require more planets than our current lifestyles would.
While individuals can, and should, do more, it is also up to governments to implement policies which make a difference. Our present incumbents seem to have washed their hands of this idea.
I am, however, pretty much ready to give my colours some company on the mast and would like to nominate Dick Strawbridge to be so honoured.
I am aware that many of the potential audience for this ramble are of non-UK origin and so for them I shall provide a smidgeon of background.
Some years ago Channel 4, one of our once great television channels, commissioned a series called "Scrapheap Challenge" (Americans will know it as "Junkyard Wars"). On this programme teams are given challenges to design and make different, usually destructive, gadgets each week and pit them against each other. One particularly successful team was the "Brothers in Arms", a strange set of brothers who all spent time in the army, hence the witty title.
Head of this little crew was the magnificently moustachioed Dick Strawbridge. He led his team to victory several times and then disappeared from our screens.
He re-appeared a couple of years later in an entertaining programme that showed his and his family's efforts to be as green as possible. He bought a run-down farmhouse and set up a watermill to provide electricity, got pigs and chickens and all was hunky-dory.
So far so jealous.
However...
Since then he has appeared on our screens again, this time telling various celebrities how wasteful and appalling their lifestyles are.
I, for one, am now getting more than a little exasperated with the seemingly constant pressure to eschew modern life. I know full well that should everyone live the way I do we would require more planets than we have currently available. I also know that there is little more I can practically do as an individual.
When I find work again I will need to travel to get there. Until such a time as we get a government capable of realising that the majority of people live outside the reach of London's underground network and therefore would require investment in public transport in order to facilitate leaving the car at home I shall need to drive.
Although we do a decent job of growing fruit and veg in the garden there's no way I can be self-sufficient with the amount of land I own. In fact, for everyone to be green and self-sufficient the way young Dick would like would require more planets than our current lifestyles would.
While individuals can, and should, do more, it is also up to governments to implement policies which make a difference. Our present incumbents seem to have washed their hands of this idea.
Monday, 2 March 2009
Reading the Pulse
The row over Sir Fred's pension rumbles on.
The latest to join the ranks of nay-sayers is Harriet Harman, deputy leader of the Labour Party and right-hand populist to our dear PM. Following the general dismay at the size of Fred's (and I feel that, as he has had such an impact on my life I am entitled to be on first-name terms)pension and, no doubt concerned that Labour ministers knew what his contract contained last year but failed to mention it to anyone at the time, she appeared on TV full of wrath and stated the following:-
"And it might be enforceable in a court of law, this contract, but it is not enforceable in the court of public opinion and that is where the government steps in."
Is it? I'd always assumed that the job of government was, well, to govern. That means taking some decisions that are legally correct but that may be unpopular with the great unwashed. This government, it seems, would rather stick pins into it's collective eyes (maybe it already has - that would certainly explain its lamentable blindness to pertinent facts) than appear to be 'not-listening'.
The problem with this, and it amazes me that no-one in the media seems to have picked up on it, is that walking down this pin-blinded alley is incredibly dangerous. We've seen what happens when the masses take things into their own, somewhat grubby and illiterate hands. We have paediatricians being attacked because tabloid readers don't understand the difference between child doctors and child molesters. No doubt if Harridan Harman was in place at the time she would be calling for all these foul paediatricians to be lynched, as that is clearly what the public demands.
The problem this government has is that in the current crisis they feel they must be seen to be doing something. That translates as they must be seen to be doing anything.
Headless-chicken mode seems to be the order of the day.
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