Ocean's 13

To the cinema this afternoon to see Ocean's 13. 11 was great. 12 was as poor as 11 was great. 13 was somewhere in the middle. On the plus side, Clooney, Pitt, Damon et al were good in their respective roles. On the negative, the story was very uneven. As with Ocean's 11 and 12 it involved Danny Ocean's (George Clooney) team swindling another Nasty Man out of alot of money.

This time the victim was Willie Bank - Al Pacino wearing a very horrible wig (at least, I hope it was). I suppose in order to justify the film being made, the writers decided to make the swindle even bigger than the last two. Hence, the amount of money to be won was no less than half a billion dollars. And the means by which it was to be taken even more jaw dropping. Thus, the tunnelling device that was used to create the Channel Tunnel was brought to Las Vegas to fake an earthquake that would cause the state-of-the-art computer that monitored security at Al Pacino's casino to reboot, stopping it from detecting the swindling that was going on in the casino upstairs.

The sequel surprise was provided by the Nasty Man of the previous two films, Terry Benedict (Andy Garcia) forming an (albeit uneasy) alliance with Ocean. But his role was, in truth, peripheral. But at least he had one - there was no space for Julia Roberts this time round, although, to be honest, I didn't really miss her.

As well as making Ocean's swindle bigger and better than ever before, the writers also made the story more complicated. I could only sigh during the expositionary scenes when the characters explained how they were going to cheat Bank. The colour of the picture was also very distracting - very garish. But it did occur to me that perhaps that is how Las Vegas is. I can't believe it though. There were also some unfortunate absurdities: Linus Caldwell (Matt Damon) seduces Abigail Sponder (Ellen Barkin) through the use of a particularly pungent fragrance. She almost literally falls into his arms. I cannot believe that such a powerful aphrodisiac exists, however; am I naive? If I am right, though, it was very lazy writing on the scriptwriters' part. Also, there was a character known as the V.U.P. (Very Unimportant Person) played by David Paymer. As far as I could tell he played absolutely no part in the story except to grab a few laughs from the audience.

Ocean's 13 was a diverting film. Despite the neat soundtrack and quick paced editing, it will also be a forgettable one. If you haven't seen this film already, don't bother - watch Ocean's 11 instead.

The Inquisitive Cow on Photocopiers, Limescale and Downing Street

dúnadan: Hello from the Thomas Hardy statue in Dorchester! Today, Gerrie the Inquisitive Cow and I have come into town to join the annual Dorset Famers (and those from Wiltshire if they behave themselves) Durnovaria Walk. If you would like to know more about the walk, you can visit its website (here) in the meantime, good morning Gerrie!
inq. cow: Good morning, dúnadan. It is a sunny morning and we are surrounded by lots of farmers and their animals. Isn't it great?
dúnadan: Yes. Except, I think, for the smell! And that's just the farmers! I can see Farmer Bill, Will and Dill over there. Drinking already! There are lots of cows, bulls and dogs too. Wonderful. So, we aren't due to head down the road for a few minutes yet, so let's talk about what has been making you inquisitive this week.
inq. cow: Well, a few days ago, we found a mysterious device dumped on the roadside. It appeared to be electrical so Professor Mrs Learned Owl and I rigged it to our generator in the Wood. It turned out to be a photocopier. The squirrels have been photocopying their tails in it all week!

dúnadan: You have a generator in the Wood?
inq. cow: I made it with this eventuality in mind.
dúnadan: What does it run on?
inq. cow: Well, the water from the river, of course.
dúnadan: I see. So, then, about this photocopier.
inq. cow: Yes, it is most intriguing. I have always wondered what exactly is the process by which an image from one piece of paper transfers to another. To find out, we took the photocopier apart. The younger squirrels were quite disappointed by this.
dúnadan: A shame. But what did you find?
inq. cow: The process begins when you press the 'copy' button. This causes two things to happen. Firstly, an electrostatic charge to power up a drum inside the photocopier. Secondly, abright lightto pass over the paper being copied so that the writing on it is imprinted onto the now charged up drum. As this happens, toner - ink - is applied to the drum. The toner is positively charged and so is attracted to - and sticks to - the negatively charged imprint on the drum. The blank piece of paper on which you are making your copy passes over the drum so that the imprint is copied on to it. That paper would come out very wet if it were not for the rollers that it passes through to 'seal' the ink on the paper. A rubber blade then cleans the drum so that process can start all over again! Mooh!
dúnadan: Goodness me, that is all very technical!

inq. cow: The photocopier is a truly wonderful invention! There is lots in it to make you think.
farm hand helen: Hallo guys! Would you like a cup of tea?! The honeybadger has challenged the leader of Dorchester Council to a duel for saying that he is not a native to this country, so it looks like we will be stuck here for a bit longer.
dúnadan: But the Council leader is right!
inq. cow: I hope you have cleaned that kettle, Helen.

farm hand helen: But of course, Gerrie!
inq. cow: Hmm. I had to take issue with her kettle yesterday. It was full of limescale.
dúnadan: I bet you didn't let it go to waste though!
inq. cow: Of course not. Helen kindly scraped it up for me. When we have enough we will sell it to anyone who needs some limestone aggregate for road construction.
dúnadan: How does limescale form in the first place? I suppose it comes out of the water, somehow.
inq. cow: This is correct. But only if hard water is used. Hard water is water that has a high mineral content, for example, calcium. When heated, it leaves behind calcium carbonate which is limescale. This is why kettles must be regularly maintained!
farm hand helen: My day is busy enough! And now I have lost my sausage dog so I must go and look for him!
dúnadan: Ah, yes, Farm Hand Helen's sausage dog. That gives me an excuse to show you a photograph of the notice on the door to her house.

inq. cow: Hmm!
dúnadan: Now, as everyone knows, there have been Big Things happening in London this week.
inq. cow: Yes. I have already written to Mr. Brown, our new Prime Minister, to ask if he would like to live in Dorset. I told him that it is very peaceful here, which would help him concentrate on his job. I have also written to Mr. Benn, the new Rural Affairs Secretary, to ask that his department change its name as it makes the countryside sound a rather debauched place.
dúnadan: I am sure that wasn't the intention!
inq. cow: I certainly hope not. Let's move on. I have been conducting research this week into the origin of Downing Street. Or rather, its name.
dúnadan: Was it named after someone famous?

inq. cow: Hm. Yes and no. The Reverend George Downing was not so much a Man of God as a political schemer in the seventeenth century. He worked for Mr. Cromwell the Lord Protector. But when he died and Downing saw that the Royalists were growing in strength, he switched to their side - betraying lots of his old colleagues in the process. Meoooh! He then moved into property development, which led to his purchase of land owned by Sir Thomas Knyvet and his descendants. He built a streetful of homes there, of which the old number five became - in the eighteenth century - number ten!
dúnadan: And there the prime ministers have lived ever since.
inq. cow: Not quite. Downing Street fell out of favour in the early nineteenth century. It was Mr. Disraeli - in 1877 - who began the process of refurbishing it.
dúnadan: I see. Gerrie, would you ever like to live in a house?
inq. cow: Of course not. Climbing the stairs would be very awkward.
dúnadan: Of course. And on that obvious note, I see that the honeybadger and council leader are about to have their duel. Let's go and watch!

index of interviews with the inquisitive cow
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• The duel ended satisfactorily when the mayor used his authority to give the honeybadger honorary citizenship of Dorset

Sharp and Chesterton

Reading William Hague's biography of Wilberforce at lunch time today, I came across the following quotation from fellow abolitionist, Granville Sharp:

[Sharp] was said to have 'a settled conviction of the wickedness of our race... tempered by an infantile credulity in the virtue of each separate member of it.

Which struck me as just the kind of paradoxical thing that G. K. Chesterton might say. Or about whom the same might be said.

From the Cathedral to the Abbey

From Doughty Street I walked to Westminster Cathedral to pick up my copies of The Tablet and Catholic Herald. I haven't looked much at either, yet, but one headline from The Tablet caught my eye: The Lost Anglican. Tony Blair's drift to Rome reflects the decline of the Church of England. Not Mr Blair's own spiritual journey? It will be interesting to read that article.

Incidentally, Fr Zuhlsdorf has an amusing 'fisk' of a Tablet editorial (here) concerning the Motu Proprio on the Tridentine Mass. As with all his dissections, it is worth a read, and is a pleasant distraction from all those articles in foreign languages (including Latin) that the good father posts without ever translating.

From the Cathedral I walked up Victoria Street to Westminster Abbey. Paying my £10, I went in search of the graves of Pitt the Younger and William Wilberforce. Immediately upon entering the church, I found Pitt the Elder's grand monument, but his son's and Wilberforce's evaded me until I found a statue tucked away in one corner. But that was not his grave.

In the end, I asked one of the staff and they kindly took me back to where I had started. Pitt the Younger, I was told, was buried with his father; William Wilberforce's was marked by a simple inscription which I had missed the first time round. I looked around, but it seems that Pitt the Younger does not even have his dates mentioned.

A Visit To 18 Doughty Street

A few weeks ago I mentioned how I attended the Conservative Bloggers award ceremony in the west end of London. On that occasion, I met Shane Greer, one of the presenters for the right-of-centre internet TV station, 18 Doughty Street. Shane was kind enough to invite me to visit 18DS, which I had the great pleasure in doing so today.

Doughty Street is a residential area near Kings Cross. Number 18 looks just like all the other doors there. Inside, however, it is a slightly different matter. When the property was bought last year, it was in a poor state, so work has been ongoing ever since to improve it. When I arrived this morning, a workman was scraping away at the stairs right in front of me.

I was let in by a cheery American Intern. Doughty Street, or some of its members (e.g. Donal Blaney) have links with American conservatives so I guess that is how they have come over. Anyway, she was very pleasant and gave me a v. hot cup of tea which was gratefully received.

After a few minutes, I met Shane. Top bloke and almost as tall as me (6'2"). We talked about how Doughty Street got started, its work, embarrassing moments on screen etc. When Shane joined, he was only supposed to do behind the scenes work but somehow ended up in front of the camera. He admitted that the first time he presented a programme, he was very nervous indeed, but is now able to take it all in his stride. I said that after five or six years doing the readings at my parish church, I still get very nervous and don't really recover till the second reading (or the psalm, for those of you who know). I guess that is the difference between a natural performer one who isn't. As for the embarrassing moment, it concerned a guest who turned up to do a show drunk... fortunately he was able to be removed!

After chatting for a bit, we went for a tour of the property, starting upstairs in the garret. This is where the interns live. I was warned to expect some messiness but am pleased to report that it did not appear to be so bad! We then moved downstairs, past the office rooms, and into the lower ground floor area, where I was shown the editing room, which was really an oversized cupboard packed with high tec equipment.

The editing room looks right into the 18DS studio which was much, much smaller than I ever imagined, watching it on the monitor. In fact, there are two studios, the smaller is a couple of seats round a table while the larger is comprised of two sofas. Fake walls stand behind the sets to give the set a homely appearance.

The studio walls are black. To give the illusion of a fourth wall, a book case is placed to the presenter's left. You never see it on the monitor but it is there to give the guests something to see beyond the presenter. It is just as well that you can't see it on screen as there are two big holes in it for the cameras!

To my great joy, we sat down on the sofas and talked some more about Doughty Street, and then, it was time to go.

A big Thank You to Shane Greer for taking the time out to talk and show me around!

As You Can See

I have been messing around with the kitchen colour scheme. Is it good? Bad? Ugly? Please feel free to leave a comment if you have any thoughts.

UPDATE: I tried yellow but it was too bright (see comments). I am now on a softer yellow. Yea or nay?

UPDATE 2: It is now creamy grey!

Tony Blair

So Tony Blair has left 10 Downing Street and very soon will no longer even be an MP. Even as I write, he is on his way to his constituency in Sedgefield, Yorkshire to inform his constituency party that he is going to resign as an MP to become an ambassador for the West in Middle East. Well, I'm sure we all wish him well. In the meantime, I was wondering today if it would really be possible to say something about Tony Blair that hadn't already been said on at least a hundred other blogs over the blogosphere. Probably not, but here is my pitch.

While reading William Pitt the Younger recently, I discovered that Prime Ministers used to be called the First Lord of the Treasury. I don't know if the title is still in active use, but reading the paper today - which featured a close up of the door to 10 Downing Street - I noticed that it is still, in a manner of speaking, part of the furniture.

This image comes courtesy of a Dorset based blog called Me and Ophelia, with Ophelia being a rather nice looking cat!

One last thing. At the end of Prime Minister's Questions today, Mr. Blair was given a standing ovation: unprecedented in modern times. I wonder, indeed, who was the last person to be accorded such an honour? Presumably not even Winston Churchill. One thing I do know, however, is that immediately after voting to abolish the slave trade in 1807, the House of Commons gave a standing ovation to William Wilberforce. Tony Blair has had his achievements, but I don't really think he is in Wilberforce's league. Was Mr Blair's ovation deserved or was it sentimentalism?

Don't Mix 'Em!

Cally's Miscellany

• Politics
• Gordon Brown has finally become the leader of the Labour Party. Politically speaking, however, Britain remains in a weird twilight zone as he does not become Prime Minister until Wednesday. And then... will Tony convert? If the Motu Proprio comes out in the meantime (see below) it will be a new thing for Catholics of all kinds to obsess about.
  
• I still can't believe that Harriet Harman was elected his deputy. I am sure she is a very good politician but her discourse never rose above the good old fashioned Blairite soundbite.
  
• The newspapers today were full of the news that Gordo/The Great Clunking Fist/Mr Broon/etc will call an early election. It would be very exciting if he did but I can't help but think that in the long run it would only help the Tories. I think Labour would win but with a smaller majority because Brown didn't give himself the opportunity to establish himself with the voters.
• Religion
• The long wait for the Motu Proprio appears to be almost over. Fr Zuhlsdorf states that 'it is possible that the Motu Proprio is now being printed'! Gosh. Maybe tomorrow we will learn what font it might be published in.
• If nothing else, at least the appearance of the M.P. will lead to no more references on the aforementioned blog to the 'derestriction' of the Tridentine Rite. I am unconvinced that this is a real word, and even it is, it is an ugly one.
• Every time I see a photograph of our dear Cardinal, he always looks so sad. The latest one in The Daily Telegraph is no different. It has an article on Tony Blair's possible upcoming conversion and uses this photo of Cormac:What can we give the Cardinal to cheer him up?
• Retirement, A DVD of a Tridentine Mass and a real completed consultation document to replace the phantom ones in the Westminster archive may not be considered acceptable gifts. Meanies.

Star Wars at County Hall

This afternoon, 5MJ and I visited the Star Wars exhibition at County Hall, opposite the Houses of Parliament. It was good to see models of some of the space ships that feature in the film, a few of the costumes, conceptual art and such like, but I was very disappointed by the experience.

Firstly, the presentation of the exhibits was very poor. The exhibition was dotted over various rooms in County Hall. Most of the rooms used were quite small. Despite this, they never contained more than a spartan array of exhibits from the films. No attempt was made to make use of the space that was left over. Also, the exhibits were arranged in an uninspiring manner. For instance, Darth Maul's light sabre - which looked as cheap as it does sleek in The Phantom Menace - rested on a black box. George Lucas' films are built upon their attention to detail (as was made clear in a short video on their special effects). Why did the exhibition not have it resting on a mock up of an instrument from the film - a space ship dashboard, or similar?

Secondly, the exhibition missed out too many characters. None of Luke Skywalker's costumes were present, or Han Solo's... or any number of other important characters. Why?

Thirdly, there was no opportunity to interact with the exhibits. Given that Lucas Film is at the forefront of film technology, you really would have expected there to be lots of opportunities to fly your own ship, walk through one of the planets... etc.

I was told that there is another Star Wars exhibition elsewhere in London at the moment and that it is much bigger than this one. But if, as I believe it is, the County Hall exhibition is an official one, that is really no excuse for the lack of effort that has been put into this one. Especially since our tickets cost £16.50.

When the first Star Wars film was released in 1977, the studio bosses had no hope for it. So, when George Lucas suggested that rather than pay him lots for making it, they give him the merchandise profits, the studio thought it was on to a winner. Of course, the film went on to be a big success and merchandise profits went through the roof. With this in mind, and given all the merchandise that has come out since, you would have expected the exhibition to have had a significant merchandise shop. On the contrary. It was no more than a lorry trailer behind County Hall! Star Wars is beloved of children past and children present all of whom would love to own figures of Luke, or Ben; Vader or whoever. Or models, T-Shirts, books... etc etc. How could the exhibition think it was a good idea to use a tacky lorry trailer in a location which could be easily missed by those leaving the Hall? I am at a loss to explain its decision here. Alas, it summed up the exhibition: a lost opportunity.

TSSA Training Day

Yesterday, I was at Congress House, the home of the Trades Union Congress, in the west end of London for a TSSA Reps' training day: just before Christmas I became my union's health and safety representative for my workplace. It was an interesting time. The day began with an address by the president of TeSSA. A short speech by a member who had helped revitalise a union in New Zealand then followed. This union had been dying on its feet until it decided to become much more pro-active in its work. The theme of the day was how TeSSa might move from being a servicing union to an organising one. In other words, from a union that says 'join us and we will do this for you' to one that says 'join us so that we are all stronger'.

After the first speech ended and some questions had been taken, we were divided up into groups for workshops. In these, the service/organising theme was developed as we looked at specific statements that one could apply to a union.

After the workshop we returned to the main hall where there was the chance to make comments about what had happened in the workshops. Then, to lunch. A buffet of sorts was provided: little dabs of food that were clearly meant to facilitate eating and talking at the same time. It didn't look too appetising to me so I decided to take advantage of the close proximity of Congress House to the British Museum (five minutes apart) to go and pay a quick visit.

At the Museum, I headed straight for the Roman section. It was too small, but it was good to see a bust of Julius Caesar. Though as you can see below, it was not in the best condition! Along the way, I also found a bust of Augustus and, elsewhere, Alexander the Great.
Now, getting involved with my union is something I do not do because I like particularl want to but because I think it is something one ought to do. There are two reasons why it makes sense to be a union member: (1) because one ought to be protected in case one's employer decides to act in a foolish manner. (2) because working people ought to be protected in case they as a whole are treated foolishly by their employer. I say this as someone whose political sympathies to the right of the centre. What was this got to do with the British Museum? Well, only to make the point that whereas I was at Congress House out of a sense of duty, I was in the Museum as a pure pleasure. I only had the opportunity to drink lightly of the exhibits there, but I was reinvigorated by them.

In the afternoon, we split up into workshops again. This time, we were sorted into two groups and given a game to play. It involved being fed information about union members in a fictional company. As the information was handed out, we had to work out how many members, activists and stewards we had and work out how we could increase union membership and efficiency. I would never be a workshop 'facilitator' (yuk). They probably get a good mix of people but the negative ones must be dispiriting. Some members of my group were quite negative. Fat old men sitting back on their seats complaining that the exercise was not realistic, that it confused them, blah blah blah. Dur. It was a game. A game that was only meant to give a pointer as to how they might be more effective as union members back in their workplace.

Following the second workshop, we were back in the hall again for two more short speeches, then, the day was over. All-in-all, I found it an interesting and good experience. The only thing that I found negative (apart from the FOMs, above) was the emphasis on power. Of course, unions need it, but surely the ideal is to work with employers rather than to be a strong union in opposition to them. TeSSA can't be expected to forego the search for power because of this, however, though it is a shame that in ten years, the Labour Government has failed to make more effort to do so.

The Inquisitive Cow on Cameos, Standing Stones and Acorns

dúnadan: Hallo and welcome to this week's interview with Gerrie the inquisitive cow. Hallo Gerrie.
inq. cow: Moo! Good day to you dúnadan.
dúnadan: As our regular readers know I generally open the interview by saying 'hello from a field somewhere in central Dorset'. Today, however, I can state specifically where I am: Farmer Bill's Woodland Forum.
inq. cow: Indeed, we are in Farmer Bill's Forum. This is in a glade in the middle of the Wood. To our left is Squirrel Hill, where all the rich squirrels live in posh pine trees. Behind the hill is Petra. Straight ahead are the Badger Burrows where they worship the moon.
dúnadan: The badgers here worship the moon?
inq. cow: Well, they may just be having fun when they come out at night, but I like to think that they are in spiritual ecstasy.
dúnadan: Have you ever been down the burrows to see what they do?
inq. cow: Of course not, I'm a cow! Next to the Burrows is Bertie's Column where his family have carved into a dead tree reliefs of all his escape attempts. To our right is the Tomb of Alexander.
dúnadan: Alexander! I thought he was buried in Alexandria!
inq. cow: Not that one, dúnadan; I mean, Alexander the Cat. He was Church Cat's father.
dúnadan: I understand. Well, the Forum is a nice place to be. And it was jolly decent of Farmer Bill to give up his time this week to clear away the rhododendron that had grown over the 'road' so that we could walk through it. So, what has been making you inquisitive this week?
inq. cow: At the start of the week I was given a present by Mr Otter: a cameo.

The Gemma Claudia

dúnadan: In what?
inq. cow: Ah, you mistake me. But don't worry, I made the same mistake when Mr. Otter visited me. A little research revealed that cameos can also be little pieces of jewelry which feature a raised relief made of precious or semi precious stone. Here is mine.
dúnadan: Gerrie is lifting up her head to show her necklace. It looks like a pendant. Ahh, Mr. Otter has carved Gerrie's head. You look very nice.
inq. cow: Yes, I think so, too!
dúnadan: How long have cameos been around?
inq. cow: A very long time. Cameo - which means to engrave in Italian - is reckoned to come from the ancient Hebrew or Arabic word kamea which means 'charm' or 'amulet'. the oldest one that I know of that is still in existence is the Gemma Claudia, which was made for the Emperor Claudius in the first century A.D. and which now belongs to the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna.
dúnadan: The Kusthister...?
inq. cow: Pay attention, dúnadan! Kunsthistoriches Museum. The Museum of Art History.
dúnadan: I see. Well, let's move on. Just beyound the Forum is a clearing, in fact, I just see it through the trees to the left of the Burrow Temples. And in the middle of the clearing are some standing stones.

Standing Stones at Avebury (Gerrie & the dúnadan would
like to thank Petrarch's Muse for the picture)

inq. cow: Learned Owl conducts all his classes while sitting on top of them.
dúnadan: But they are a good height: twelve to twenty feet tall.
inq. cow: Well, he is a bird so he is used to being high up! Of course, standing stones did not start off being perches for owls to teach on. This week, I have been pondering why they were raised all those years ago, thousands in fact.
dúnadan: And what answer did you find?
inq. cow: Rather inconveniently, I have found none whatsoever! Hmm and mooooh! No one seems to know why standing stones are there. Professor Mrs. Learned Owl thinks their purpose is astronomical or astrological. Learned Owl believes they are religious symbols. Learning Owlet thinks they were put there for cats and owls to scratch their claws on. He has a lot to learn.
dúnadan: Heh! One thing is for sure, standing stones look very foreboding in the twilight.
inq. cow: Whoever raised them lived in a time when they saw menace and purpose in all of nature so I doubt they stones were intended to scare people.
dúnadan: Let's sit down a while. I had to walk to Farmer Bill's place from Dorchester today. Goodness knows what happened to the bus (the dúnadan sits down). Ah, what's this? An acorn!

inq. cow: There are clusters of oak trees a little way behind Alexander's Tomb. Perhaps the wind blew them here. Acorns are beautiful. And they are a staple part of some animals' diet. Finding out which kinds of food my kinsanimals like is one of my perpetual interests. The acorn is particularly liked by birds - Percy Pigeon loves them - and mammals - all squirrels eat them as do pigs! Once upon a time, acorns were eaten regularly by humans. Try it and see what you think.
dúnadan: Alright. > munch! <
inq. cow: Oh, but don't forget to make sure there is no moth or weevil larvae in the kernel!
dúnadan: > splutter! < what?!
inq. cow: He he!
dúnadan: You are terrible, Gerrie! What makes acorns so popular as a food source?
inq. cow: Their nutrients. Acorns are packed with proteins, carbohydrates and fats. They even have calcium in them, which is good for the nails - if you have them.
dúnadan: Well, I must say, it is a bit dry but is just like a normal nut. You mentioned squirrels and pigs a minute ago, Gerrie, is there any more news to report on the impending river battle between Tecumseh Squirrel and Bertie Pig?
inq. cow: No; the ships of the line are still being built. But the fact that Bertie has been pestering me to build a chronometer like John Harrison's tells me very clearly what he is intending to do with his fleet.
dúnadan: What is Bertie thinking of? That is a very outdated piece of machinery.
inq. cow: Ah, but it is very shiny and Bertie likes that!
dúnadan: Hmm! Well, once again, Gerrie, it has been a real pleasure speaking to you. There are heavy clouds overhead, however, and this cold breeze tells me we could soon be in for rain. I shall eat another acorn and then we will withdraw home.
inq. cow: A splendid idea. Goodbye all.

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Interviews with the inquisitive cow

Rubicon - Tom Holland

I am attending a Union training today day so there was no need to get up and out of the house early. That gave me time to finish off Rubicon by Tom Holland. As the title suggests, this is an account of the fall of the Roman Republic. This book is a well written overview of her calamitous last century. Don't buy it, though, if you like to be guided by dates: Holland is writing narrative history; the story comes before laying every event out in its proper moment.

Still, Rubicon has given me some ideas on how I should approach the training day. Basically, threaten then storm; pardon and destroy; take absolute power in all but name thus securing my safety. That, in a nutshell, is the story of Julius Caesar and Augustus.

You Can Smoke In the Kitchen Anytime You Like

I read recently that in the last ten years the Labour Government has created 3000 criminal offences since 1997. 3000! As of 1st July this year, one such offence will be smoking in enclosed places. This is not a wholly bad law: I will not miss coming out of the pub smelling of stale smoke. But neither is it a wholly good one; not because the law bans smoking in places where it ought to be allowed but because in its completeness it treats people like children. Fr. Mark Langham of Westminster Cathedral posts on how he had to put up the soon to be obligatory 'No Smoking' signs today. Well, that's fine as far as it goes, but was it really necessary for him to have to do that? I have been a member of the Catholic Church for ten years. In that time (and on such occasion as I attended my local Church of England church before then) I have never, ever seen someone smoke in a church. It is one of those things that one just doesn't do. Was it really necessary for the Government to stick its oar in like this? Of course not, but the law can be an unsubtle thing when written by idiots and the well meaning who have only an aim in mind and not people.

William Pitt the Younger - William Hague

I almost forgot to mention the other day that I had just finished reading William Pitt the Younger by William Hague. It is an excellent book all through. If you like political biography, Pitt is a must read.

William Pitt was a politician of genius but, as so often for politicians, external events overtook him so that he was not able to fulfil all his promise. As I mentioned before, Pitt came to power in 1783. For seven years, all was well; Britain, which had been in great debt, underwent an economic revival. Not only was her debt reduced but, thanks to Pitt's meticulous management, it was wiped out altogether. But then, in 1789, the French Revolution began and not longer later, the French Revolutionary wars. The rest of Pitt's premiership took place under the shadow of these wars. Unfortunately, he was not as good a military commander as he was peace time leader, and this meant numerous reversals. Not all was bad, of course, thanks to such heroes as Nelson. In the end, Britain won out. Alas, that victory came after Pitt's death in 1806.

I feel very sorry for William Pitt. Not just because his rule was hijacked by the French Revolution but because he was such a one sided man: he lived for politics. Although he had some splendid friends, it seems he had very few - if any - interests beyond his work. When the war went wrong, this must have meant that he suffered all the more as a result. With that said, however, one very great thing that he had in his favour was a very optimistic and forgiving nature. However, there were one or two moments when I wished that I wasn't reading 'Pitt remained determined to carry on his work' but that he decided to withdraw and enjoy his life a little.

Still, allowing for Hague's favourable telling of Pitt's story, I think Britain did well by him and I look forward to paying my respects to both Pitt and Wilberforce who are buried in Westminster Abbey.

Four: The Rise of the Silver Surfer

To the cinema this evening to see Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer. The four in question were, of course, Reed Richards, The Invisible Woman, The Human Torch and the Thing: The Fantastic Four. Presumably the producers (or whoever it is that decides on the name of a film) decided that calling it 'The Fantastic Four Two' would confuse cinema goers. Much in the same fashion that calling The Madness of King George III would make them think that they had missed the first two films.

Anyway, two friends and I went to see Rise of the Silver Surfer on account of our love of The Fantastic Four comic books, which we were read when we were nothing but wee bairns. Unsurprisingly, this film was made with today's children in mind. It was simple, straight forward, exciting and funny. But no more.

The plot revolves around the arrival on earth of a mysterious silver surfer. After popping some holes in our planet's surface (including, rather excitingly, the Thames) and upsetting the weather, he is captured and it is found that he is the herald of an alien called Galactus. Who Galactus is, is never explained. As to what he does, well, he is the devourer of worlds. Unfortunately, why he devours worlds is not explained, either. What is interesting about Galactus is that, unlike in the comic book, where he is represented as a humanoid figure, we never see him; he exists within a mighty cloud. It made me think of the cloud that is (or hides?) the glory of God in the Bible: the Shekinah. Galactus is the anti-shekinah, which makes sense given his destructive nature.

The Fantastic Four's mission to apprehend the Silver Surfer and stop Galactus is made more difficult when an old enemy turns up: Dr. Doom. The United States Government makes them work with him to stop both, but it is not long before Doom betrays everyone by stealing the Silver Surfer's surf board (from which he derives his powers). In doing so, he makes the kind of mistake that really should have been drummed out of him at the School for Would Be Megalomaniacs: Be as destructive as you like, but remember, you can't destroy the world as that would mean you have nothing to dominate. It turns out that the surf board is the key to stopping Galactus, but when Reed Richards tries to tell Dr. Doom this, Doom thumps him and tries to escape. Schoolboy error.

The Rise of the Silver Surfer is a fairly shallow film - much more so than the comic books, I think. With that said, the lead roles are ably played. Ioan Gruffud, Wilberforce in Amazing Grace, is well suited to be Reed Richards; Scarlet Johannsen look alike Jessica Alba is easy on the eye as the Invisible Woman while Chris Evans and Michael Chiklis are amusing as the Human Torch and Thing.

The film does deepen a little at the end when Susan Storm, the Invisible Woman, is killed by Dr. Doom. Reed Richards' reaction is very affecting. Fortunately, the Silver Surfer quickly restores her to life. At the very end of the picture, Reed and Susan finally marry. However, due to an emergency, the wedding ceremony consists of no more than the priest asking for the rings and telling the couple that they are now man and wife. I left the cinema wondering whether or not they could be truly said to be married. Without the necessary rites, I don't think so; still, the thought was nice and they had just saved the world.

Two Kinds of Heroism

My favourite internet application is Google Maps. This afternoon, a work colleague told me that they were visiting Birmingham tomorrow. This put me in mind of Mabel Tolkien, mother of J.R.R.T., who is buried in Bromsgrove. When I got home, I wondered if I might be able to find the church where she is buried on Google Maps. Typing in the address of the church (found courtesy of the Archdiocese of Birmingham) took me to here:

As you can see, the church is in the centre of the photo and the graveyard 'underneath' it. Mabel Tolkien died of diabetes at the age of just 34. While being aware of the cause of her death, Tolkien called her a martyr to her faith - Mabel had converted to Catholicism in 1900 and was ostracised by her Protestant family as a result. Without their financial help, she and her sons lived in increasing penury; Humphrey Carpenter, author of the first and best biography of Tolkien, calls one of their homes 'only one degree better than a slum'.

Despite the hardships caused by her conversion, Mabel Tolkien made sure that her children (John Ronald and his brother Hilary) went to school. At home, she nurtured their religious faith. Tolkien believed that this effort wore her down and eventually killed her. 'My own dear mother was a martyr indeed, and it is not to everybody that God grants so easy a way to his great gifts as he did to Hilary and myself, giving us a mother who killed herself with labour and trouble to ensure us keeping the faith.'

J. R. R. Tolkien's great friend, C. S. Lewis, was born in 1898 and died in 1963. If he was alive today he would be 109. One other man born in the same year as Lewis has made it to that great age - Mr. Harry Patch of Somerset. Mr. Patch was featured on BBC On Line a couple of days ago as he is one of Britain's last surviving soldiers from the Great War - he fought at the Battle of Passchendaele. One is humbled in the 'presence' of someone like Harry Patch. Not only has he lived so long, but he was present at a great moment in history - and survived it. I cannot fail to admire him in the photograph (left) but also ask questions about the war in which he fought - how did it happen? Why? It is a privilege to be able to be able to do this on those terms. By the time the next generation comes to my age, Harry Patch will be dead and they will have to ask their questions after reading books.

Irony

I was listening to Radio 5 a moment ago and they started talking about the latest updates to social networking websites like Facebook. The reporter came on and I thought to myself I recognise that voice. Sure enough, it turned out to be I.M. the TechnoScot - a university friend. And why did it take me a moment to recognise him? I was engrossed with my Facebook account.

The Inquisitive Cow on BBQs, Ships of the Line and the XVIe arrondissement

This picture hangs above Farmer Bill's upstairs toilet

dúnadan: Hallo from a farm somewhere in central Dorset! It is cloudy overhead, but there is nothing but sunshine from my friend the inquisitive cow. Hallo Gerrie!
inq. cow: Good morning, dúnadan. Are you looking for a free glass of milk?!
dúnadan: Heh. Right, we are standing beside the dying embers of a bonfire next to Farmer Bill's house. I understand you had a BBQ here last night.
inq. cow: When we started, it was just Tecumseh Squirrel, Bertie Pig and Mr and Mrs Farmer Bill and me. By midnight - amongst other goings on - we had the Learned Owl dropping voles into the bonfire and the honeybadger pouring warmed up honey over his burgers.
dúnadan: You ate burgers??
inq. cow: Veggie burgers.
dúnadan: Ah. I see.
inq. cow: It was a delightful evening. It even got me thinking as to why BBQs are called that.
dúnadan: I had never thought of that. They just are.
inq. cow: Nothing just is, dúnadan! I discussed this matter with Professor Mrs Learned Owl and we consulted her encyclopedia. Thus, we found that the origin of the word barbeque lies with the Taíno people who live in Puerto Rico and the Greater and Lesser Antilles. They built a platform on sticks over a hole in the ground which they called the barabicu or 'sacred fire pit'. The word was also spelt barbicoa and barabicoa. Isn't it exciting when something has more than name!
dúnadan: Do you know how these words came across the Atlantic?
inq. cow: Well, I would guess that since the Spanish conquered the Taíno, they used the words first. Perhaps it was then picked up by English speakers. Or French then English.
dúnadan: Very good! Now then, what was the gossip last night? What is going on in the Wood?

The French ship Valmy. The largest ever ship-of-the-line (by Auguste - Mayer)

inq. cow: Ahhh. There is big news afoot. It appears that the little red baron really enjoyed his river battle with Hannibal Rabbit the other week - despite having his trireme blown out of the water by his father. Last night, he was touting plans to built a fleet of ships last night. He wants to have a line-of-battle.
dúnadan: ?
inq. cow: Are you familiar with the Battle of the Nile, dúnadan?
dúnadan: I confess, I am not.
inq. cow: Oh, good! Well, it was a naval encounter between Britain and France during the French Revolutionary Wars. It took place in Aboukir Bay at Egypt on 1st August 1798. Let me get a few pebbles and then line them up opposite each other... there. Each pebble represents a ship. Lines-of-battle were fought between ships that were in this formation. The ships involved were called ships-of-the-line. The reason they lined up like this was because their guns - canons - were at the side. They sailed past each other and fired as they went.
dúnadan: I notice that you have made three lines of pebbles.
inq. cow: Yes, because that's how it was at Aboukir. The French had so many ships. Now, you would have thought that this would give them a firing advantage.
dúnadan: Yes. Oh dear. Did we get beaten?
inq. cow: No! You see, the man in charge of the British Fleet was one Rear Admiral Nelson. And he was very daring. Instead of fighting according to the rules, he sailed to the end of the French line - where the weakest ships were - before turning round and going up the aisle between the two French rows.
dúnadan: Goodness - the British ships were armed on both sides, weren't they?
inq. cow: Yes, they were. Which meant that they could attack both sides of the line simultaniously. It was a massacre and a significant assertion of British Naval supremacy.
dúnadan: No wonder Tecumseh Squirrel wants his own fleet! But unless I am mistaken, Hannibal Rabbit doesn't have one to rival him with.
inq. cow: Dúnadan, this is the curious thing. The rumour I have heard is that Bertie Pig has put his savings into a fleet.
dúnadan: Bertie Pig! But he doesn't have any war like tendencies!
inq. cow: Indeed. I think we can see where this is affair is going.
dúnadan: Blimey. Rear Admiral Bertie. Anyway, we shall watch this situation with interest. Let's move on.

The XVle arrondissement in Paris, France

inq. cow: To the 16th Arrondissement!
dúnadan: Why there?
inq. cow: Jenny Wren has a nest on the Avenue Fochs. She decided that she wanted this year's litter of wrenlets to have a more cultured upbringing, so she flew off to her nest there a month ago to give birth to them. For the last four weeks, she has been feeding them good French worms.
dúnadan: How nice! But the 16th Arrondissement is not a cheap area to live in.
inq. cow: Indeed. Jenny's departure inspired me to find out about the area. There are lots of mansions there but the district is dominated by foreign embassies. When Dorset declares its independance, perhaps we will have one there!
dúnadan: I wonder how Jenny Wren acquired a nest on the Avenue Fochs?
inq. cow: I believe it was a present from Mr Sarkozy for helping him win his election.
dúnadan: Naturally!

inq. cow: Anyway, she has sent a postcard via Herbert Goose to say that the chicks are all well and are even singing in French!
dúnadan: That's good news! Well, Gerrie, I haven't had my breakfast yet and I am getting hungry. Shall we finish here and go indoors?
inq. cow: You can. I need not go anywhere as I have grass right here at my feet!
dúnadan: Ah, yes. Well, thank you for your time. Until next week, goodbye, or perhaps I should say, au revoir!
inq. cow: Au revoir, dúnadan!

Gerrie Cow has a Facebook profile! Join & become her friend!
The index of interviews with the inquisitive cow can be found here

The Beautiful Names - Father, Son and Holy Spirit

Mulier Fortis writes passionately about the upcoming The Beautiful Names concert at Westminster Cathedral. The Beautiful Names is a symphony by John Taverner and is based on the 99 names of God in Islam. Could you make this up? A Catholic church - the mother church for England no less - is hosting a concert where the names of Allah will be sung and, therefore, even if only implicitly, praised.

Orthodox Catholics, like Mulier Fortis are, not surprisingly up in arms about this. Liberal Catholics have probably long since lost the ability to distinguish between God and Allah but if they still can, they will no doubt be pointing to the fact that Christians and Muslims worship the same God. Mulier Fortis disagrees with this, but I am prepared to accept the point. However, what I as a Christian must also accept is that the One who we see clearly is only known to Muslims darkly. Allah is the name that they have given to God because they do not yet know Him as He fully is: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Those are the really beautiful names.

Mulier Fortis also points out that '[t]he Cathedral Administrator, Mgr. Langham, is quoted as saying that it's a secular concert, not an act of worship.' I share her disdain for this specious explanation. The event - as distuinguished from the symphony may be a secular one - but the symphony can only be considered as religious or at the very least rooted in religion. As Christopher Howse says in The Daily Telegraph, 'It is a pious practice in Islam to recite the names of God. A hadith, or saying handed down from the time of Mohammed, says: "He who enumerates them would get into Paradise."' Perhaps the Monsignor is hedging his bets for the afterlife.

Westminster Cathedral is a Catholic Christian place of worship. It should be used for Catholic Christian services or any event which flows out of that faith. A concert in which another religion is foregrounded has no place there. It should be called off. If it does go ahead, I hope the Blessed Sacrament is removed for the while.

Rome IV - The Order of Malta

Sunday 10th June

Leaving St Peter's Square after the Pope's address, I rejoined L. at the Vittore Emanuelle II monument. We walked round it until we came to the Tiber. In his book Rubicon, Tom Holland tells the legendary story of Rome's founding. The two brothers Romulus and Remus wanted to build a city but could not agree where it should be placed or what it should be called. So they stood upon their chosen hills - Romulus on the Palatine and Remus opposite it on the Aventine - to await the gods' decision. Remus saw six vultures fly overhead. But Romulus saw twelve and took this as proof that he was in the right. He fortified the Palatine and named the city after himself. Needless to say, Remus was not too happy about this and one day, he got into a fight with his brother over the matter. Unfortunately, it was Remus who came off worse. In fact, he was killed. From then on, the Aventine Hill became the home of losers. Thus, as the Palatine was settled on by the Patrician class (becoming in time Augustus' home), the Aventine became home to the poor.

2500 years later, however, the Palatine Hill is now an empty memorial to an age that has now passed, while the Aventine is a very leafy and desirable place to live. It is also the location of another country.

The Order of Malta was founded in the eleventh century by Crusader Knights to care for the poor and sick. Its full name is the Sovereign Military Hospitaller Order of Saint John of Jerusalem, of Rhodes and of Malta. Today, as you will find if you visit its website (here is the British one), the Order is still doing good work today.

The Order of Malta has its headquarters on top of the Aventine Hill and by some quirk of historical fate it is its own country. Now, this might have been an interesting fact that was not worth doing anything with if it was not for one little thing. You see, if you walk up the Aventine Hill to the Via di Santa Sabina and walk up to the great door that leads into the Order's gardens, you will find a key hole there. It isn't a real key hole, but let's not worry about that. If you look through the key hole you can see right down the garden path, Rome beyond and the dome of St Peter's beyond that. In other words, you can see three countries! Here is the view:

The Malta keyhole is one of the hidden joys of Rome. When we were there, a few tourists arrived in their car to take a look but there was never more than a couple of hand fulls. After taking the above photograph, L. and I withdrew across the square to some seats on the other side to take a rest and eat an ice cream. For just a couple of minutes, we were on our own. Just enough time for me to take this photograph without any one in the way:

Though I must confess that even as I took that picture, there were some people walking towards the door from the right! The wall behind us was decorated with reliefs:

Here is a close up:
The Order of Malta is what I call a first class organisation - it cares for people and does so with beauty. None of your utilitarian nonsense here.

Rome III - St Peter's Square

Sunday 10th June

By the time the Eucharistic procession at the Chiesa Nuova ended, it was half past eleven, so I hurried on to St. Peter's Square for the Pope's Angelus address. I arrived in plenty of time to find the Square already busy with people awaiting Benedict's arrival at his window. Among those present were groups from various organisations and places. In the photo above, the blue flags belong to the Community of St Egidio. I need hardly say where the red and white flags came from!

A few minutes before midday, the Pope's window opened, and the flag with his coat of arms on it was flung out...

The minutes passed and all eyes strained on the window. Thank goodness the sun was on our backs! This would not be the first time I saw the Pope - on my first visit to Rome in 2003 I saw Cardinal Ratzinger, as he then was, at a consistory. Of course, when I say that I saw the Pope this time, I use the word advisedly because the distance between his study window and the Square means that you cannot really see him at all. Unfortunately, the big TV screens in the Square were not switched on. Nevertheless, when the Pope did appear...

... his voice over the loudspeakers left one in no doubt that this was the Holy Father. Alas, I know only a little Italian, certainly not enough to understand what he was saying: until now, for Zenit have a translation of his address (here). Still, it was enough just to be there. One thing that I can say something about, is the way Benedict spoke. His voice was strong and steady. But when he greeted the pilgrims from Spain and - unless I misremember - Andorra, he really did seem to play up to his audience. It was great. The address lasted a few minutes before the Angelus prayer started. Then, it was over. Benedict acknowledged his cheering audience one last time before withdrawing. The flag was pulled in and the window closed.

Tony Blair and the Pope

There have been a number of stories in the press lately concerning Tony Blair and the Catholic Church. That he is a Catholic fellow traveller has long been known. I remember seeing him at Mass at a local church in 1997 not long before the Labour Party came to power. What is equally well known, however, is that some of the policies of his Government have been very un or even anti Catholic. So-much-so that one may doubt that he could indeed convert to the faith. Well, that is between him and God. But perhaps someone else will have a say, for one of the reports that I saw on Italian TV last weekend was the news that the Prime Minister will be meeting Pope Benedict in a private audiance on 23rd June: just four days before he leaves 10 Downing Street. No doubt there will be pleasantries. But perhaps a little more hard talking as well?

William Pitt the Younger - William Hague

These last couple of weeks have seen me reading William Hague's excellent biography of William Pitt the Younger. Before watching Amazing Grace a a couple of months ago, Pitt wasno more than a name from history which only had any interest to me because he and his father were only the second that I knew of to have the Elder and Younger appelation (the others being the Plinys). Hague has brought the man and his times alive.

Pitt was the second son of Lord Chatham, a giant on the British political stage in the middle 18th century. But Billy Pitt as he was sometimes called was never to be dominated by his father's reputation. In fact, after his entry into Parliament (as M.P. for Appleby) in 1781 his speeches brought fame and power to him. In 1782, Pitt was appointed Chancellor of the Exchequer. It should be said that in the 18th century this office was not quite as important as it was now with the Prime Minister - or First Lord of the Treasury as he was more often called - controlling the purse strings, but can still be pointed to of how Pitt was climbing the political ladder. His ascent would be completed in 1784 when the Fox-north Government fell. George III made Pitt Prime Minister. His first administration would last until 1801 and his second, after a brief period in opposition, until his death in 1806.

British politics in the 18th century were quite different to how they are now. There was no real party system. Just alliances between like minded men and those with the power to patronise others. The monarch, while constrained by the settlement of 1688, also exercised real power: George III brought about the fall of the Fox-North Government by letting it be known that anyone who voted for a major bill of theirs in the House of Lords would be regarded by him as an enemy.
As for Pitt, he was a brilliant orator. He also liked to drink - Hague records that by modern standards, he drank about one and two thirds of strong wine a day: on the advice of his doctor! Unfortunately, his heavy consumption of alcohol led to liver disease and to his death.

One interesting matter which Hague raises is the issue of conscience voting. Early on in his first administration, Pitt was defeated in the Commons when he presented a bill to reform Parliament. Nowadays, such a defeat would probably lead to the fall of the government, but in Pitt's time, the defeat was not regarded as a slight upon Pitt's administration. It was a matter of conscience as to how MPs voted. So, I wonder, what has changed in the last two hundred years? How did the change take place? And could issues which are today regarded as a matter of conscience for MPs one day be regarded as political matters upon which party discipline may be enforced?

Rome II - At the Roman Oratory

Sunday 10th June

Today was the the feast of Corpus Christi and I had intended to go to Mass at St. Peter's. I had no idea what time Mass was, or even if I would get into the church - we had been thwarted in our intention to visit it on Saturday by the horrendously long queues. So it was, that as I walked down the corso Vittorio Emanuele II and came to the Chiesa Nuova with its door opened invitingly, I thought to myself that I would go inside to see where Mass was said there.

In case you don't know, the Chiesa Nuova (proper name Santa Maria in Vallicella) is the church of the Roman Oratory, which was founded by the remarkable and somewhat mad St Philip Neri in the late sixteenth century. There are three Oratories in England - in Birmingham, London and Oxford. Of these three, only Oxford (I believe) has a second altar following the post Vatican II reforms. And that is probably only because their church used to belong to the diocese. I don't know much about the Oxford Oratory, but London and Birmingham are bastions of Catholic orthodoxy and traditionalism. I had imagined, then, that the Roman mother church would be the same. But not only did it it have a second altar (and not even in the sanctuary area, but at the front of the church) but one of the Fathers (or Brothers) played a little organ at the side. Anyway, it was a wonderful service, covering as it did the first communions of a number of children.

After the Mass, I had expected to resume my journey to St Peter's, if not to go to Mass there, but to attend the Pope's Angelus address. However, as it was Corpus Christi, the Oratorian Fathers exposed the Blessed Sacrament and led it on a procession round the church. I have no idea of what the etiquette is for photographing such events, but so I went for it anyway. Here are some of my photos.

Turning right out of the church, we headed down this side street
singing hymns as we went

At the corner of Via del Governo Vecchio and the Via del Filippi the Blessed
Sacrament was placed on a specially prepared niche in the wall and venerated

After venerating the body of Our Lord, we proceeded back to the church

The Chiesa Nuova

The body of St Philip is kept in this side chapel

Rome I

Hurray! Back from Rome after a splendid few days there in the company of L. The citta' eterna was very hot and so I now look as red as a beetroot, but we had a great time. Here are some of the highlights.

Friday 8th June.
I almost always forget to take something with me to the airport, and this time was no different as I forgot my E111 card. This is the credit card type thingy that would allow me to receive medical treatment should I look the wrong way when I crossed the road. As L. said, though, one would hope that if I was lying in a heap in the road, the ambulance would not refuse to take me away just because I never had the card.

At Stansted, I got a photograph of our aeroplane

In case you are wondering, I wasn't trying to be arty here, it was just that the settings on my mobile phone changed themselves without my knowing!

Our hotel was the XX Settembre near the Rome Termini (railway station). The Italians like their dates - we saw a street called the ventiquattro maggio (24th May) which I suppose comes from the founding of the Italian state. I think it is dull to name streets after numbers though. What do you think?

We arrived in Rome at tea time. Before eating, we paid homage to one of the usual tourist traps, being the fontane di trevi. After our meal, I went to a bancomat to withdraw some money. But it refused me: my card was not valid for use outside of Britain! Rather surprised by this we returned to the hotel...

Saturday 9th June
... where, the next morning, I looked on my bank's website to see what it said. Nothing. So I looked at the website of my credit card's bank. And it said that due to many cases of fraud, cards may not work in cash machines. But they should be okay in bureaux de changes. So, off I trotted and thankfully I was able to obtain the money I wanted. Be warned, though, if you go abroad!

On Saturday, we visited the Colloseum and the Roman Forum. And look who I met there:

That's right, it's me and Julius Caesar! You can be sure that I will be returning to the Forum in other posts, so be warned again!

Saturday was a big day in Rome. George Bush was visiting the PM and Pope. In response, the Italian Communist Party was leading a demonstration against him. There were police and lots of waiting for the demonstrators. The polizia, polizia municipale and provinciale, guardia di finanza and carabinieri (above) were all in evidence. The funny thing was that there was no tension in the air. None at all. The police officers were lounging about, smoking, and talking to each other. With that said, this was before the marchers reached them. When on Sunday we visited the same area that we saw many of the officers, we saw a bank that had had its window smashed while McDonalds and the United Colours of Benetton had had slogans painted on them.

The best place that we saw on Saturday, however, was the Via Sacra Largo di Argentina. This is a Roman ruin and a cat colony. Not for feral cats - lots of Roman gatti live there and are neutered and vaccinated by volunteers.
It was great to see them lounging about, sleeping, lazing... er... sleeping. Well, it was a hot day!

The Inquisitive Cow's Quiz

The dúnadan is on holiday this weekend. So, to compensate, the Inquisitive Cow has compiled this exceedingly clever quiz.

Which Farm Animal Are You?

1. You wake up on a pleasant summer morning and a bumblebee flies into your bedroom. He settles on a flower for a few moments before flying off again. Do you:
a. Think seriously about following him so as to declare war on his hive?
b. Wonder why bees do what they do (and in such a buzzy manner)?
c. Wish you had a pair of wings to fly away also.
d. Groan with your hangover headache.

2. Walking down stairs to the kitchen, you pour cider into your cereal instead of milk. Was this:
a. A mistake that will compromise your driving/air ballooning/ rocketeering abilities.
b. An opportunity to learn a new taste.
c. Worth a flogging - if it was a subordinate who had done it.
d. heaven.

3. It is time to begin a day's work:
a. In the library.
b. In the pub.
c. On the battlefield.
d. To get somewhere else other than here.

4. Inspecting the farm, you meet Augustine Squirrel. He tells you that he can't decide where the palafitta parliament should be located. Do you say it should be:
a. On a gunboat.
b. In the brewery.
c. Anywhere warm to facilitate the gathering of opinion and, therefore, knowledge
d. On a trireme

5. You go home for lunch through the Wood. A certain someone (the honeybadger) has laid siege to Petra. Do you:
a. Open a bottle of cider and sit down to watch the fun.
b. Advise him on his battering ram technique, pointing out that building siege engines would be more efficient.
c. Muster the Legion and go to war!
d. Wonder if the ruin of Petra could be used in any future escape attempt.

6. It is now afternoon and it has started to rain. Is this:
a. Good because it means Percy will be hindered in his attempts to catch up with you.
b. Bad because mud makes fighting awkward.
c. Neither here nor there as long as you have a bottle of cider in hand.
d. Good because rain comes from somewhere and its presence is a good opportunity to find out where, but bad because you are a cow and you don't have a sou'wester like the dúnadan.

7. Late afternoon. The rain stops and the Sun breaks out. Dorset is:
a. A word that you would love to know the origin of.
b. Beautiful and you would never want to escape to anywhere except another part of her.
c. Territory that is to be won by blood, sweat and victory.
d. Hic.

8. The Woodland Birds are putting on a performance of Macbeth with the Tercel Triplets reluctantly playing the part of the three hags. Watching Birnam Wood move, are you:
a. Irrationally antagonistic towards the wood on the grounds that you have drunk too much.
b. Eager to see Birnam Wood move, and keep moving - to freedom!
c. Intrigued by the dynamic of trees moving.
d. Itching to take the Wood on.

Thank you for taking the quiz. To find out which animal you are - read my interviews! (But here is a clue: If you liked any of the options that involved alcohol, you are Farmer Bill*. If you went for the warring ones, you are Tecumseh Squirrel. If you want to escape, yes, you are Bertie Pig. But if you went for the inquisitive answers, hurrah! You are me!)

Gerrie Cow.

* He is an honorary farm animal.

Read some of those interviews with the inquisitive cow here
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on the evangelium vitae

Towards a culture of life - Wilberforce and the pro-life movement

I have written an article on the parallels between William Wilberforce's mission to end the slave trade and the modern pro-life movement for Conservative Home ('The unofficial home of the Tory grassroots). If you would like to read my article and leave a comment just click on the link above. This is my first foray into political writing so feel free to let me know (here or at ConsHome) where you think I have gone right or wrong!

The Inquisitive Cow on the BBC, the Shape of Parliament and Illuminated Manuscripts

dúnadan: Good morning from a field somewhere in central Dorset! It is both a sunny day and a very special day as Gerrie the inquisitive cow and I are celebrating one year of interviews on what has been making Gerrie inquisitive. Good morning, Gerrie!
inq. cow: Good morning, dúnadan! That is a very handsome three piece suit that you are wearing today.
dúnadan: Thank you! I thought I would dress up for the occasion. And also because the first topic of conversation this week will be the BBC.
inq. cow: That's right. I was chewing the cud yesterday when I met a reporter who was on his way to Bournemouth but had, unfortunately, got lost. We got to talking about the history of the BBC. He told me that in its earliest days, the newsreaders - on radio - wore evening suits. How marvelous!
dúnadan: I am glad it is still early morning. One could get quite hot in this thing. Also, these shoes are not terribly good for walking across fields! I understand that the reporter, who works for BBC Dorset but who we will not name in case he gets fired for not knowing where Bournemouth is, told you about the origin of the Beeb.
inq. cow: That is right. I do so love history. I learnt that when the BBC was founded in October 1922 it was called the British Broadcasting Company and was part owned by a number of businesses and people, including Mr Marconi, the inventor of the radio! The Company became a Corporation in 1927 when it received its Royal Charter, which it still holds to this day.
dúnadan: Now, Gerrie, you don't have many heroes, do you? But you found one yesterday.
inq. cow: I have heroes of sorts, dúnadan. For example, I admire anyone who stands up for knowledge. And that is what Lord Reith, the first Director-General of the BBC did. His motto was educate, inform, entertain. What a man! I would have loved to have met him!

Gerrie's hero

dúnadan: The reporter gave you a photograph of him which I shall reproduce on the blog. I must say that it makes Lord Reith look rather scary.
inq. cow: Not to me. Lord Reith and me are kindred spirits! Educate, inform and entertain. Hurrah! Moooooooo!
dúnadan: Yes, well, calm down, Gerrie! Let's move on. It has been a busy week here, hasn't it.
inq. cow: Indeed it has. A re-enactment society came to use Farmer Bill's fields to re-enact the battle of Agincourt, only to be assaulted by the little red baron and his army! Bertie Pig has been collecting sponsors to take part in the Dorset Marathon in July. Who really thinks, though, that he will finish the race?! And the Tercel Triplets claim they flew to the moon to see the man there. I think they were fibbing. They also claim to have made a nest on top of the clouds.
dúnadan: And what about you, what else have you been up to?
inq. cow: A good question! I have been consulting with Augustine Squirrel about the possibility of placing a parliament on his palafitta. As you know, my constitution rather died a death after Tecumseh and Hannibal's river battle. Mooh! I still believe, however, that we can bring the rule of law to bear in the Wood.
dúnadan: Through a parliament?
inq. cow: Yes. The only problem is, we can't decide how it should be shaped. Augustine wants a semi circular shape, like lots of parliaments around the world, but I would prefer the face-to-face version like in London. Politics are adversarial, after all - just like the animal kingdom.

dúnadan: I wonder why the House of Commons and Lords are shaped like that. Do you know?
inq. cow: I didn't... but the same question occurred to me when I met Augustine Squirrel, so I sent Percival Pigeon to London to ask my heavily tattooed relative, Georgie, the London Cow.
dúnadan: Ah, yes, I remember her visit here almost a year ago.
inq. cow: She asked some cows who asked some people who told Percival that it was modelled on the original meeting place of the members of parliament, St. Stephen's chapel, which is now just a hallway!
dúnadan: Why did they move?
inq. cow: It was the small matter of a fire which burned Parliament down! Mooh!
dúnadan: I see! Ah, look over there, it is Horace the Impressionist Horse on his way to paint by the Frome.
inq. cow: Hallo Horace! We have been spending time together, lately. Horace has been trying to expand his artistic range to include Illuminated Manuscripts.
dúnadan: Naturally.
inq. cow: I had a phase of learning about them a while ago so when Horace said he wanted to learn how to make one, I was eager to help.
dúnadan: How does one make an illuminated manuscript?

inq. cow: Well, first of all you need some paper. In the Middle Ages they used velium. I shall not say how they came by that. Then you sketch the lay out. The text is written first. But will you write it in Roman letters, or use Uncial or even half-uncial? Once the text is written, the illustrations can be laid down. In the medieval period, artists had at least eight colours from which to work, including Cochineal which is actually an insect! Imagine!
dúnadan: I bet they take a long time to make. Manuscripts, that is, not insects.
inq. cow: Of course. You had to be very, very careful! Especially if you are a horse who uses your mouth to paint with. Illuminated Manuscripts are very precious objects. Not just because of the skill that they took to make, but because if they had not existed, literacy standards in the west after the fall of Rome in the fifth century would have been so much worse. And they were bad enough as it was.
dúnadan: It is a sobering thought.
inq. cow: So well done to the monks in Ireland and Italy and where ever else they made the manuscripts!
dúnadan: Hurrah! Well, Gerrie, we have had a good conservation today, but now we must end. It has been good talking to you. Can we look forward to another year of inquisitiveness from you?
inq. cow: You certainly can, dúnadan. I don't think I will ever stop being inquisitive.
dúnadan: That is good news! Goodbye, Gerrie, and thank to our readers for reading.
inq. cow: Mooh!

A years worth of interviews with the inquisitive cow can be found here. Phew!
Gerrie Cow is on Facebook. Join and become her friend!

On Abortion, the G8 and Grammar Schools

I often think about writing about politics but never do because I feel I just don't know enough. To encourage myself, therefore, I though I might grab a few headlines from BBC On Line's Politics page and add a few comments.

First off is actually a 'Get Well Soon' message to John Prescott, who has gone into hospital with a chest infection. He quits being Labour Party Deputy PM in three weeks time. I hope he has a long and happy retirement.

Welsh prelate joins abortion row

The Archbishop of Cardiff, Fr. Peter Smith, has spoken out in support of Cardinal O'Brien who denounced the practise of abortion in a homily a few days ago. Well done Fr. Smith. Now, will Cardinal Murphy O'Connor do likewise? Before moving on, I must voice my bemusement at the BBC headline. What do they mean by 'abortion row'? Cardinal O'Brien denounced abortion and said that Catholic politicians who support it should not go to communion. Some politicians said he was wrong to say this. So far so civilised. Where is the row? I think the BBC headline writer needs to learn the difference between argument and quarrel.

Thousands attend poverty protest

A G8 protest that didn't end in violence - what a change! The Make Poverty History campaign has got to be one of the most righteous that has been initiated in modern times so it is such a shame that it is constantly hijacked whenever there is a G8 conference. The latest is being held even now near Rostock in Germany and yes, the extremists are there. One of the leaders of the protest, singer Midge Ure, said that "In 2005 the British public gave the government a huge mandate to fight poverty. People across Africa are still waiting for the G8 to deliver." Gordon Brown's reputation is not the greatest ('fundamentally flawed', 'clunking fist' etc) but if he were able to bring about palpable change in this area it would be hard to not see him as a worthy prime minister.

Grammar Schools

This isn't on the Politics page tonight, but I thought I would mention it, anyway. I really can't understand the big hue and cry about it. Graham Brady M.P. resigned from the shadow front bench because David Cameron won't open any more. Well, so what. Neither did John Major or Maggie Thatcher. Ironically, as the BBC mentions here, it was the Conservatives that brought in Comprehensives in the first place! The Grammar School furore is a storm in a tea cup to me and won't affect the way I think of Cameron or the Tories in the long run.