The Inquisitive Cow on the C.N. Tower, Time Travel and Paraffin

dúnadan: HELLO AND WELCOME TO THE TOP OF A SEQUOIA TREE HERE IN DORSET! I am sorry to have to shout, but it is rather windy up here! Now, you are probably wondering why I am up here anyway! Well, it is all for research of course! I have my mobile phone and at the other end - at the foot of the tree is - is Gerrie, the inquisitive cow! Hello Gerrie!
inq. cow: Hello dúnadan! Keep a tight grip on the branch and you will be alright! Do you have the tape measure in your other hand?
dúnadan: I do indeed, and it is touching the very tip of the tree.
inq. cow: And I have the other end at the foot. How tall is the tree?
dúnadan: By my measurement, it is three hundred and five feet!
inq. cow: That is a shade over ninety metres! How exciting! But it is still 233 metres shorter than the world's tallest free standing structure - the C.N. Tower. I was just ten metres out in my calculation! Mooo!
dúnadan: That is splendid, Gerrie; I have two questions: What is that in feet and can I come down now!
inq. cow: Ninety metres is 300 feet so the C.N. Tower is 1815 feet tall. The wind is picking up so you better come down now!
dúnadan: Here goes. Geronimoooooooooooh!
The sound of the dúnadan descended with rather more rapidity than may be considered really wise through the branches of the tree
dúnadan: Hurrah! Back on terra firma! Hello again Gerrie!
inq. cow: Hallo dúnadan! Let me give you a lick!
dúnadan: Urgh! Slobbery! Well, that was exciting, but it would be nice if your inquisitiveness was centred upon things on the ground! Now then, what else has been interesting you this week, Gerrie?
inq. cow: Well, I should tell the readers that we are doing a double interview this week, aren't we.
dúnadan: Yes, we are. I was on holiday last week, so I am camping with you in Farmer Bill's field tonight and we will be talking again tomorrow to make up for the missing week. I am looking forward to sleeping under the stars. Don't expect me to play cards with you though: my tent belongs to my mum and dad!
inq. cow: Ah yes. Two nights ago, I won Farmer Bill's farm from him at a game of cards. How can I lose it back? I can't run a farm! That is on my mind, but so is time travel.
dúnadan: Does this come from Bertie Pig being inspired by Dr Who two weeks ago?
inq. cow: Yes, I think so! I have been thinking about whether time travel is possible or not.
dúnadan: Is it?
inq. cow: I have been doing some calculations in the sand pit and have come to the conclusion that backwards time travel is not possible. Forward time travel could be, however. For example, if you left earth in a space ship and traveled at the speed of light for ten years before returning, people on earth would have aged more quickly than you!
dúnadan: Gosh, how is that?
inq. cow: Well, I think it is because that in the artificial environment of the spaceship, you would age more slowly than people on earth.
dúnadan: Where does traveling at lightspeed fit in?
inq. cow: I must confess, I have absolutely no idea! However, it is all to do with Mr Einstein's Special Theory of Relativity so it must be exciting and worth knowing!
dúnadan: Alright, let's move on at the speed of my rather bruised legs. We have some cooking to do!
inq. cow: Ownership of Farmer Bill's farm has given me access to his shed. Everything is in there! Including his camping stove and a jerrycan full of paraffin.
dúnadan: Does Jerry know that Farmer Bill has it?
inq. cow: Silly thing! The jerrycan gets its name from the fact that it was invented by Germany in the late 30s. In fact, it was produced as the result of a Nazi project in the lead up to war. They called it the Wehrmachtskanister. You can guess where the name 'jerrycan' came from. What interested me, though, was the paraffin inside. Did you know that at room temperature, paraffin is a gas. But it can be turned into a wax.
dúnadan: What is paraffin made of?
inq. cow: At molecular level? Methane: CH4.
dúnadan: And is it used solely in car engines and lighting fires?
inq. cow: Not at all! Paraffin wax has many applications. For example, as a moisturiser, to make candles with, and on sweets to make them look nice and shiny!
dúnadan: Good grief! I would not want to eat that!
inq. cow: Ah, you needn't worry - it passes straight through the body.
dúnadan: Well, Gerrie, here we are at my little tent. And here is Farmer Bill!
farmer bill: H'lo folks! Mrs Farmer Bill continues to ban me from the house until I have won it back from you Gerrie!
dúnadan: So, it looks like our evening is settled then. Gerrie, thank you for your time. I look forward to speaking to you again, well, tomorrow!
inq. cow: Moo!

index of interviews with the inquisitive cow
Join Facebook and become Gerrie's friend!

Back to Bourne

It has been a busy week at work, so much so that last Monday's bank holiday seems like a long time ago now. At about three pm this afternoon (or there and there abouts) today, I decided that in view of this, come the end of work at 4:30, I would make good on my promise to myself to go and see The Bourne Ultimatum again. Fortunately, my workplace is not five minutes from the local cinema. Fortunately again, this afternoon's showing of Bourne began at 4:30. So at that very moment, I dashed down there and was in plenty of time even to see the adverts and trailers.

The first three trailers were clear evidence of the West's preoccupation these days with the Middle East. The first was for a film called A Mighty Heart, about the journalist Daniel Pearl who was kidnapped and killed in Pakistan in 2002. I really don't know about the wisdom of making films about events so close to us - especially when people close to to the subject matter are still alive. However, I understand that A Mighty Heart is based on a memoir by Pearl's widow, so perhaps the film comes with the blessing of his family.

The second trailer was for a picture called Lions For Lambs, starring Tom Cruise and others. I'm not sure what it is about, but we saw some shots of Mr Cruise demanding to know if co-star Meryl Streep's character was for or against the 'war on terror' so I am guessing that Lions can be fitted into the Middle East preoccupation.

The last trailer was for an action film called The Kingdom. This appears to be about a Middle-eastern terrorist blowing up an American compound in an arabic country. A crack FBI team, lead by Jamie Foxx, is sent to find an kill him. I am not an expert in the American judiciary, but I thought that the FBI was a police force that dealt with crime within the USA. However, these are extraordinary times, I suppose.

It wasn't all post 11th September film making though. One trailer was for a film which looked bad when I first saw it, and still looks bad after the second viewing: Run Fatboy Run is about a loafer who jilts his bride then tries to get fit to win her back.

As for The Bourne Ultimatum, it was brilliant the first time round, and was brilliant again the second. Two things that I liked particularly were Bourne's brief parley at the end with the assassin sent to kill him. At the end of their car chase just beforehand, Bourne spared his life: as he said to the Russian policeman at the beginning of the film "my argument is not with you". The assassin duly pursued him, but instead of shooting Bourne dead, asks him why he (Bourne) never killed him earlier. Bourne replies by saying "Do you even know why you have been sent to kill me? Look at what they have made us." If I have a worry about too many films about Middle eastern terrorists, it is that they will breed a deep seated fear of the arabic nations in the hearts of Westerners that could be a cause of grave trouble in the future. Then Bourne's words will become our own.

The other thing I enjoyed about Bourne was the end credits. The music was a new, electro, version of Extreme Ways by Moby and the lines zipping to and fro from the previous films actually made up various pictures, including a union jack and cityscape and the face of Jason Bourne. It was, surely, I thought, a nod to the introductory music and 'artwork' of James Bond films.

Y2K at Corpus Christi

Tonight I visited Corpus Christi church in Maiden Lane, which is near Covent Garden in London's West End (for those of you who do not live here) for this week's Youth 2000 prayer group. 'Youth' in this context should be interpreted liberally as 18 - 35 year olds qualify. It has been a good long time since I was last at a Y2K meeting so it was good to be back. The format of the evening was the same as ever - prayer, song, the rosary, contemplation, intercessory prayer and a little more singing. These bare bones do not give credit to the prayerfulness of the occasion though. Not that I was deeply prayerful though. During the ten minutes contemplative period, I started thinking about a new idea for a story. Hmm.

One thing was different though. A few days ago, Cardinal Rifan of Brazil celebrated Mass in the Tridentine Rite at Corpus Christi. It seems that traditionalist fervour lingered still because whereas in the past the Blessed Sacrament was exposed on the middle altar it was tonight placed on the high altar.

Next week is the first Wednesday of the month so that means the usual format will be changed to allow for the celebration of Mass. The celebrating priest is a Carmelite who is an expert homilist. Given the length of time since I last attended Mass at Corpus Christi, I look forward to hearing him for the first time again.

Alexander the Great

Readers to this blog will know that its author is partial to all things ancient and Roman. Well, that interest is expanding a little. Thanks to Our Man (formerly) in the Army, I have been reading about Alexander the Great. Alexander was born in 356 BC, became king of Macedonia in 336 and died aged 33 in 323 BC. In between times he conquered most of the known world. In fact, he never lost a battle. His conquests only came to an end when his army grew restless and tired for home.

Our Man has suggested that I read Arrian's Life of Alexander but before then, we have both been indulging ourselves with a series of introductions to aspects of Alexander and Rome as published by Osprey Publishing. This weekend, for example, I read about the first major battle between Alexander and the Persian Empire in a book on the battle of the Granicus river. Before then, it was the battle of Pharsalus - the final battle of the civil war between Caesar and the Pompey led Optimates.

Osprey specialise in military history both past and present. If you take a look at its website, the company has just published a book on the history of American snipers, Napoleon's Polish Lancers and Hittite warriors. As well as being very informative, the Osprey books have lots of useful graphics of people and battles. For example, I have just read a book on the Praetorian Guard (the bodyguards of the Roman Emperors), which shows the Praetorians in their various modes of uniform. The book on the Granicus, meanwhile, has outlines of how that battle was fought.

One other thing, three or four years ago, filmmaker Oliver Stone directed a film about Alexander. It was panned by the critics. He has just released a final version which includes all (I presume) the scenes that the film company told him to delete for the cinematic version. As a result of which, the film weighs in at about three hours twenty minutes. I am halfway through it. I still have not got used to Colin Farrell's Irish accented Alexander but the production values are admirably high.

The Inquisitive Cow on Telephone Boxes, Polyethylene and HALO jumps

dúnadan: Hallo world! Welcome to a field somewhere in central(ish) Dorset. I am standing alongside Gerrie the inquisitive cow ready for our weekly interview. Hallo Gerrie.
inq. cow: Hallo dúnadan.
dúnadan: Now, Gerrie, we are standing at the edge of Farmer Bill's field looking over a hedgerow. On the other side of the road is a telephone box and inside it is Bertie Pig. He appears to be pressing all the numbers on the keypad at random. What is going on?
inq. cow: Ah, well, you see, there was a little problem in the pigsty this week: the roof caved in, so Farmer Bill invited the Pig family to stay in his living room until the roof had been repaired. Mrs Farmer Bill wasn't too happy about this, but off they went. While there, Bertie discovered the television and a certain programmed called Doctor Who...
dúnadan: I see... I think I know where this is heading...!
inq. cow: Yes, so it would appear that Bertie thinks that all telephone boxes may function as TARDIS's!
dúnadan: Someone needs to disabuse him of this notion.

inq. cow: I have tried. I did some research into telephone boxes so that I could tell him all about them, but he wasn't interested.
dúnadan: A shame, but I am. Tell me about them!
inq. cow: Very well! The telephone box was invented by the Post Office in 1920. I haven't seen one, but I understand that it was not well liked. So much so that the Post Office had a competition to find a replacement. It was won by Sir Giles Gilbert Scott in the mid twenties. He intended it to be made of steel and be silver in colour, but the Post Office decided to use cast iron and colour it red for ease of visibility.
dúnadan: It is certainly visibility - especially in the countryside!
inq. cow: Sir Scott's telephone box was classed as K2 - Kiosk Two. By the end of the Sixties, this figure had risen to Eight. Modern day telephone boxes are classed as the KX range.
dúnadan: What is that noise - hey, that's Farmer Bill approaching in a lorry with a crane attached to it! What is he up to?
inq cow: He has pulled up beside the telephone box - Bertie hasn't noticed him - and is now clambering into the crane cabin.
dúnadan: He is going to lift the telephone box up! Well, Bertie will be excited. What else have you been up to this week, Gerrie?
inq. cow: Well, I was talking taking a walk through the field on Wednesday when the wind blew a transparent material into my path. Naturally, I stopped to investigate it. It turned out to be a stray polyethylene bag from the Kings Arms.
dúnadan: How did you know that?

a polytheylene chain

inq. cow: It had their name on it! Having discovered this object, I was - naturally - keen to learn more about what it is made of. The Learned Owl told me that polyethylene is a thermoplastic object. Thermoplastics can be melted into liquid or frozen into glass. I tried to do this to my bag. It burnt and then went brittle but not very glassy. Perhaps it has been alloyed. Anyway, I have also discovered that polyethylene is made by the polymerisation of ethylene! Mooo!
dúnadan: Goodness. Dare I ask what ethylene is?
inq. cow: It is a chemical compound, of course!
dúnadan: Of course-!
inq. cow: Polyethylene was created by accident by a German called Von Pechmann who was heating diazomethane at the time. In 1935 his discovery was developed by someone named Perrin who made it possible to produce polyethylene on an industrial scale for the first time. Now, if only people would remember to take their polybags home with them after a day in the countryside!
dúnadan: Quite. By the way, if any of our readers would like to know what has happened to Bertie, Farmer Bill has lifted the telephone box up and taken him in the direction of Little Wimple. I suspect we will find Bertie's TARDIS in the car park of the Kings Arms before long! Let's move on - the Tercel Triplets have started a new business.

weeeeeeeeeeeeee!

inq. cow: That's right, and I am pleased to say that I helped them do so. They are taking any Maurice Rat and members of his Adventurous Rodent Society of West Dorset on their back and flying to heights of about 25,000 feet---
dúnadan: 25,000 Feet!!!
inq. cow: Yes, so that they can perform HALO jumps. These are adventurous rodents, you know!
dúnadan: Goodness me; I go dizzy at the mere thought of it. Is it really possible to jump from so high up?
inq. cow: That's what the Triplets asked me. I found out that Maurice and co would need to prepare. For example, they have to let their fur grow extra long in the weeks leading up to the jump so that they do not get frostbite. While on the Triplets backs, they also have to breath pure oxygen to rid their bodies of nitrogen. Nitrogen in the body may lead to Hypoxia when falling which in turn could lead to unconsciousness.
dúnadan: Crikey. What does HALO stand for?
inq. cow: High Altitude, Low Opening. After jumping, you free fall for as long as possible before opening your parachute at low altitude. The reverse is HAHO jumping - High Altitude, High Opening, where you open your parachute at high altitude!
dúnadan: We must find a rodent who has done a HALO jump to see what it was like. In the meantime, would you consider it, Gerrie?
inq. cow: Hmmmmmmmm!
dúnadan: Well, I wouldn't blame you if it was one inquisitive step too far! In the meantime, the skies are greying over and we are out of time. Thank you as always for speaking to me, Gerrie; I shall see you again next week.
inq. cow: I look forward to dropping in on you, dúnadan. Now shall we go to the Kings Arms and see if we can find Bertie?
dúnadan: Yes, let's!

Index of interviews with the inquisitive cow
Join Facebook and become Gerrie's friend!

The Bourne Ultimatum

Last Night, L., Our Man (Formerly) in the Army and I went to the cinema to see The Bourne Ultimatum. I discovered the first two Bourne pictures (The Bourne Identity and Supremacy) on DVD a while ago and enjoyed them greatly. They had minimal plot, but what there was (Bourne's search for his own identity) was both thrillingly and poignantly managed. With that in mind, I was eager to see the last in the series. I am very happy to say that I was not let down.

The Bourne Ultimatum starts with a presumably disaffected CIA agent (Colin Stinton) passing information to investigative journalist Simon Ross, (Paddy Considine), about Operation Blackbriar - the 'Black Ops' division of the CIA, which is responsible for assassinating enemies of the American state. It is the successor to Operation Treadstone, which, as we found out in The Bourne Identity was responsible for creating the killing machine that is Jason Bourne (Matt Damon). Ross publishes an article in which he names Bourne. Upon reading it, Bourne - who still does not know the full story of his 'origin' as a CIA assassin - makes his way to London to find out from Ross who his source was. Unfortunately, Blackbriar's leaders are none too happy at what Ross has done, and send a hitman to silence him. After a thrilling chase at Waterloo Station (where I go to catch the train to Twickenham for Harlequin games!), Ross is killed, but before the police arrive, Bourne manages to snatch his notebook. This leads him to Madrid and the source, one Neil Daniels.

As Bourne arrives in Madrid, so do the agents of Operation Blackbriar. They are both too late, for Daniels has headed off to Tangiers in Morocco. There, he meets his end at the hands of a Blackbriar 'asset' (i.e. assassin). Cue another chase between Bourne, the asset and Nicky Parsons (Julia Stiles) - an ex-Treadstone operative who has lost faith in the Blackbriar cause.

Fortunately for Bourne and her, she isn't the only one to do so: in the Bourne Supremacy, Pamela Landy (Joan Allen) lead the search for Bourne. But her role has now been usurped by the sinister Noah Vosen (David Strathairn). Allen commits herself to helping Bourne retrace his steps to the very building where he ceased being David Webb - the soldier who offered himself to Operation Treadstone - and started being Jason Bourne. Before he gets there, we are treated to yet another chase in New York.

I say 'yet another', but you musn't think that I was getting bored by this point. Quite the reverse. Despite the film having minimal plot and minimal dialogue and a character at the centre of it who borders on being a charisma free zone, The Bourne Ultimatum is utterly engrossing. The reasons for this are numerous. Firstly, Matt Damon is a brilliant actor: as he showed in The Good Shepherd, he has a special talent for making boring characters interesting. I don't know how, but he can. Secondly, the director Paul Greengrass really knows how to ratchet up the tension in a film. Thirdly, Christopher Rouse, the editor is clearly a genius at work. I can't think of any scene in this film which did not seem to deserve its place.

A couple of extra things. As mentioned above, part of The Bourne Ultimatum takes place in London. The journalist even works for a real newspaper - The Guardian. It is always nice to see one's hometown in a film! The Waterloo sequence relies heavily on Blackbriar's manipulation of the CCTV cameras at the station. Afterwards, I asked L. and Our Man if they thought it possible that an agency could take them over. They thought it might in principle. Fortunately, however, it was agreed that it would be less likely in practice! That is nice to know as, I believe, Britain has more CCTV cameras in operation than any other country. What I think of that is another post.

Finally, we learn at the end that Bourne was not forced into Treadstone. He wanted to join. This was a good touch - it would have been very easy to have completed Bourne's 'redemption narrative' by turning him back into the innocent that he was before becoming a killer. Instead, the film took the braver and more ambiguous step of making David Webb a killer too. Bourne's search for himself, then, does not ultimately lead him back to who he was, but to becoming a new person rising out of the ashes of his past.

Oh, and I must add that given how cool Bourne was, it was interesting and pleasant to see that he was listed on his dogtags as being a Catholic!

The Bourne Ultimatum is one of the best films I have seen this year - perhaps in the top three with Blood Diamond and Amazing Grace. I strongly recommend it to you.

The (Anti) Catholic church

I was catching up on the Catholic blogosphere at the weekend when I found the mulier fortis' post on Fr Mark Langham's post concerning the use of Westminster Cathedral for the upcoming film Elizabeth: The Golden Years. Mac is upset because the original film was anti-Catholic in its presentation of the rise to power of Elizabeth in the sixteenth century. Fr Langham is the Administrator of the Cathedral. In his post on the film, he writes,

[Elizabeth: The Golden Years] continues the story of Queen Elizabeth I, covering the Spanish Armada; Westminster Cathedral stands in for the Escorial...

The trailer is now available... from it one gleans a thrilling, if distorted, version of historical events, and it does appear to perpetuate the myth of 'killer priests'. However, it does look spectacular and evocative, and is a 'must see' for the autumn!

For the last couple of days, I have been wanting to write something about these posts, but held off because one of Mac's commenters said what was on my mind:

[At Westminster Cathedral] there are so many candles and devotees at the Relic body of St. John Southwark a Priest, Saint and Martyr who died for the Mass for his fellow Priests so that they could be Holy and freely Proclaim the Word of God and the Eucharist in Westminster and in England. Then in the very place where his Dear and Sacred body remains there are people who wish to use this public place of worship to promote, twist and destroy the reputation of the Holy Priesthood. I feel offended by this action and will make it known to him.

I could not have put it better myself. So, what is the Cathedral playing at? I suspect that when Fr Langham and his fellow administrators met, monetary considerations were high on the agenda. It costs money and lots of to keep the Cathedral going. Perhaps the Cathedral authorities decided that the short term negative impact on the Church of an anti-Catholic film was worth the long term impact of cinema goers visiting the Cathedral to see what a Catholic church looks like.

There is also a second answer, namely, that the Cathedral authorities are not playing at anything. That is to say, they genuinely see no reason why the Cathedral should not make a little extra money serving as the backdrop to a film. That it is an anti-Catholic one is really neither here nor there because we are, after all, talking about history - five hundred year old history.

I would be extremely disappointed if this was the case. Catholics do not live in the present alone. In our prayers and at Mass we live both in the past and future. It should be natural for us, therefore, to be mindful of our Catholic history. If we are not, we go the way of the Secularists who have no past or a future - only the life they are leading now. Concerning Fr Langham, I am given hope that his sense of history remains Catholic ('one gleans a thrilling, if distorted, version of historical events, and it does appear to perpetuate the myth of 'killer priests') but am not encouraged by the fact that despite seeing the film for what it is, he still sees fit to call it 'spectacular and evocative' and - no less - 'a 'must see''. Now, Catholics can make their own minds as to whether a film is worth watching or not: we do not wish for a return of the Index, but how a priest can commend a film so fulsomely after criticising it in equal terms is quite beyond me.

If the use of the Cathedral in this manner was a one off, I don't suppose I would think any more of it. However, as Mac points out, we have only recently had to endure the embarrassment of Taverner's 99 Beautiful Names and the use of the Cathedral to launch the Gospel of Judas. It is beginning to look like the Cathedral authorities have an eye for the main chance. Why? Could it be for money after all? Yet, if the Cathedral is so poor, it would be good if the authorities were honest with us - the people who have joint ownership of it with them - and said so. I might still disagree with the use of the church for a particular film, but I would respect the authorities more if they said why it was happening.

I look forward to Fr Langham commenting on this matter. I think the Cathedral owes Catholics an answer as to why it has been used in this way. I also look forward to seeing Elizabeth: The Golden Years. Who knows, perhaps it may turn out to be a more subtle story than it has been given credit for so far. If not, I rather fear as to what those in charge at the Cathedral will get up to next.

Getting Shirty

Last Saturday, Our Man (formerly) in the Army and I went back to Hampstead to watch England play France in the rugby friendly on Saturday. It was a close game, so close in fact, that at half time we decided it was a bit dull, so went outside to join 5MinJim and the Fellah. Well, it was a very sunny day.

It was, perhaps, just as well that we left the game when we did. Apart from the fact that England lost, I was very disappointed by the kit that both teams were wearing.

As you can see, England are in their traditional white and France in their traditional blue. England's kit, of course, has the red flash across it. If you haven't noticed it already, look closely at France's kit and you will see that they also have a flash - light blue.

Why my disappointment? Well, in sport, the kit - referred to in shorthand as the shirt - is an integral part of the identity of the club. Along with the club's name, it is the principle means by which one identifies a team. But the shirt has greater meaning than that. It represents the club and its values. This is why fans say that players are not fit to wear it when they put in a poor performance. It is also why a player kissing the club badge when he has scored a try or, where it normally happens, a goal is such an evocative gesture. He is broadening the scope of his celebration by including within it anyone and everyone who has supported or served the club in the past and present. No wonder football fans get so upset when any player who has kissed the badge then goes on to leave. It is as if he has feigned his loyalty.

The question remains: Why the disappointment with England and France? Well, given the importance of the shirt, I cannot understand why either the RFU or the French Rugby Union has consented to share the same design with another nation. The shirt is effectively the team's standard. And what army ever shared a design of standard with another? By accepting the Nike shirt, the two unions have as good as said that their identity is not as important as Nike's. Imagine if two princes walk into a taylor's and demand a magnificent robe. The taylor would not dream of giving them the same robe. He would make a different one for each of them, one that would honour their individual dignity, rank and history. The English and French rugby unions both have great dignity, yet they have allowed their taylor to give them an outfit he has already supplied to someone else. That he has disguised this by changing the colour of it is irrevelant. The fact is that he has given them something that does nothing to satisfy their dignity and everything to elevate his own: this is what I made and you will be happy with it!

Sadly, given the increasing corporatisation of sport, I fear that this kind of ocurrance will only increase in the years ahead. Maybe one day the sports companies will finally go the whole hog and buy the clubs: Nike FC, Adidas United anyone?

Blood Diamond

Of all the films I have seen this year, the one that has made the greatest impression upon me is Blood Diamond. Ironically, although I have searched through the blog, it appears I did not write a review for it. I don't know why that was. Set in Sierra Leone in 1999, during the civil war, Blood Diamond is the story of mercenary Danny Archer's (Leonardo DiCaprio) and father Solomon Vandy's (Djimon Hounsou) search for a rare pink diamond. Archer wants to use the diamond to sell his way out of Africa for ever, while Vandy - who discovered and hid the diamond while being forced to work for the rebel R. U. F. movement - is only helping Archer because in so doing Archer will help him find his son Dia, who was kidnapped by the R. U. F: the Sierra Leone civil war is notorious for the rebels' use of child soldiers.

The title of the film comes from the name given to diamonds that are found in conflict zones ('conflict diamonds' is another name given to them). They are illegal, but as we see in the film, by hiding the origin of the diamond through a mixture of bribery and secret passage through different countries, diamond traders were able to bring the diamonds to sale. I say were, because the Kimberly Process, which was drawn up in 2003 by various nations with the support of diamond companies, was supposed to put an end to it by making diamonds traceable from mine to shop window.

There are various things that I like about Blood Diamond. The acting performances are wonderful. Leonardo DiCaprio is expertly cast as the youthful but old-before-his-time Danny Archer. He sports a very convincing South African accent to boot. Real South Africans can probably hear through it, but I confess that I could not. Djimon Hounsou is great as Solomon Vandy, a desperate but dignified man. Of the other players, notice must be made of Jennifer Connelly. Our Man (formerly) in the Army and I both agree that her journalist character, who accompanies Archer and Vandy on their quest, did not really need to be in the film, but although far too beautiful for a woman who has supposedly been in all the world's hotspots, she plays her part well. As does David Harewood as the murderous Captain Poison.

The next thing is the locations. Blood Diamond was shot in Sierra Leone, Mozambique and South Africa, amongst other places. We see the best of Africa in birds eye shots of valleys and woodland, and the worst in some awful street fighting scenes.

But what I like most about the film is Danny Archer's story. It is one of redemption. At the start of the film, he is a mercenary who is determined to use Vandy to escape from his life in Africa. His desire is good, but his motives bad. By the end, however, he has placed his life in the hands of Maddy Bowen, Jennifer Connelly's journalist, by giving her his book of names, places and bank accounts so that she can write her article on the diamond smuggling trade. It is true that he does this to get her help in finding the pink diamond, but he also does it for Vandy's sake. By now, their separate journeys are intertwined. In order for a fictional character to be redeemed from their former life, they have to do something that completely undoes their previous bad deeds. Think of Darth Vader killing the Emperor in Return of the Jedi. Or Jerry Maguire's memo in the eponymously titled film. Archer's redemption occurs in three stages. Firstly, when he hands over the book. Secondly, when he gives Vandy the pink diamond, having snatched it off him moments earlier. It could be said that there is a certain ambiguity in Archer's action because he knows he is dying having been shot during a gun battle with his old mercenary commander in the preceding scene. The old Archer, however, may well have kept the diamond out of greed, thus forcing Vandy to take it from a dead man's body afterwards.

In real life, of course, our redemption is worked out over a life time - not as a result of one deed. From this perspective, films like Blood Diamond assume an unreal air. But in this respect, perhaps we gain most by not taking the film literally but as a parable. The pink diamond represents worldliness. We are Danny Archer, deciding whether to chose world or heaven.

In his last moments, Archer completes his redemption by calling Maddy Bowen - who by now has left Sierra Leone - to ask her to help Vandy and his family escape to London. This is truly the act of a man who has tasted saintliness. He is dying. He has failed in his greatest wish - to escape his life of war in Africa. But he is not bitter; not angry. Quite the contrary, in fact; love is in his heart. This is what makes him use his remaining strength to help his brother man.

Blood Diamond ends on a hopeful note, with Vandy addressing the Kimberly Process. Maddy Bowen is present too, having published her article on diamond smugglers. We see one of its pages, complete with a photograph of Archer. Death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?

The Inquisitive Cow on Pontoons, Melophoroi and Perfect Storms

dúnadan: Hallo and welcome to a field somewhere in Dorset! Actually, it is no secret where we are. Go north out of Dorchester, turn left and look for the farm that smells of cider! That'll be Farmer Bill's and that'll be where I am with my friend Gerrie the Inquisitive Cow. Hallo Gerrie!

inq. cow: Hello dúnadan. Isn't it a wonderful, sunny day today?

dúnadan: It is indeed. And look, we have a new photograph of you that I have uploaded to my laptop and will put on my blog when I transcribe this conversation.
inq. cow: Yes, one of our readers (perhaps the only one!), Ms Lola, passed by on her barge and snapped Betty and me watching Bertie Pig build a pontoon. I am on the left. Moo!
dúnadan: When we last spoke, Bertie and Tecumseh Squirrel had swapped personalities and were chasing each other to Spain. I should add that since then, and thanks to the timely intervention of a rescue party led by Herbert Goose, they have brought safely home.
inq. cow: As everyone knows, however, Herbert does have a tendency to get lost easily, so only found them last weekend after flying half way across the Atlantic!
dúnadan: Upon finding them, Herbert knocked both their heads together - literally - and now they are back to their old selves again. Alls well that ends well.
inq. cow: Indeed. And I was most interesting by Bertie's bridge. Did you know that the word 'bridge' comes from the Anglo-Saxon brycg. And that the first to have an arch was built by your favourite people - the Romans.
dúnadan: Now, Bertie was building his bridge to escape from the Farm again. And, of course, Farmer Bill was helping him. Mrs Farmer Bill was not happy about that. But what can you tell me about the style of bridge that Bertie built?

inq. cow: Ah, well, as I said, it was a pontoon. This is a floating bridge that is most commonly used by armies. It is laid out using floats or boats and is a temporary structure that can be easily destroyed or packed up for further use!
dúnadan: How did Bertie get on with his?

inq. cow: Good question! He was defeated in his escape when someone showed him a picture of that nice bridge in Avignon, France, which only goes half way across the river. Bertie decided he would like his pontoon to be Dorset's version of it. Hmmm! A bridge is a bridge, but I am not sure that we can can compare a pontoon built by a pig with the arched pont d'Avignon!
dúnadan: I understand that you have been experimenting this week.
inq. cow: I have. With spears!
dúnadan: Oh dear. this sounds dangerous.
inq. cow: Not if you are responsible like me. As you can appreciate, being a cow, I do not have a good throwing arm. Little Boots Squirrel - Tecumseh's slightly mad young brother - does, however. So we have been building a Persian Spear.
dúnadan: A Persian one?
inq. cow: Yes, these are identifiable by the apple shaped butt weight on them. In fact, the soldiers who carried these spears were called melophoroi, which in Greek means 'apple bearer'! Little Boots didn't think such a spear would be practical. However, after constructing one using the fallen branch from a tree, we have been able to prove that they were.
dúnadan: How interesting. Can Little Boots throw far?
inq. cow: You would be surprised at his strength. Anyway, while constructing our spear, I thought I would look into their history a little. Did you know that King Xerxes' soldiers had spears that had butts in the shape of golden and silver apples and pomegrantes! And according to Herodotus, apples were more senior in rank to pomegranates!
dúnadan: That's nice! Let's move on. This summer, Britain has seen some awful weather. Fortunately, the floods that struck some parts of the country did not extend to Farmer Bill's farm. But you took the opportunity to take a brief holiday two weeks ago by the sea.
inq. cow: Yes, the Learned Owl and I have been researching the phenomena of the perfect storm.

a ship is struck by a wave during a 1991 perfect storm (it survived)

dúnadan: Is that a very violent storm?
inq. cow: It is more than that, dúnadan. A perfect storm is when a catastrophe occurs due to a the coming together of a number of factors. Mooo! Obviously the primary application of the word is in a meteorological context, but you would use the term as a metaphor in other situations.
dúnadan: Golly, it sounds awful! Did you find one?
inq. cow: Well, thankfully not, although the sea was very angry on some days! Instead we had to read stories of others to each other.
dúnadan: Well, Gerrie, I would love to talk more about that but sadly we are out of time. Thank you for your company this week. I understand you and Rupert Bull are going picnicking on Saturday. He is in love with you, you know.
inq. cow: I do not know what you are talking about, dúnadan! I am not in love with him. This is my last year as a diary cow. Next summer, I shall retire to my own field where I shall spend my days pondering interesting things!
dúnadan: Maybe you will, but we shall see who you ponder with! In the meantime, cheerio!
inq. cow: Moo!

index of interviews with the inquisitive cow here
Join Facebook and become Gerrie's friend!

Thank you to Lola for use of the picture!

St Teresa Benedicta of the Cross

As well as being the anniversary of a great battle, 9th August is also the feast day of St Teresa Benedicta of the Cross - Edith Stein, whose picture can be seen in the left hand corner of this blog.

It's funny that she should be there and that I should have a devotion to her. Stein was a lapsed Jewess, a philosopher, a teacher and a martyred nun. She lived in a part of the world I have never visited and in a time that I would not count as one of my areas of historical interest.

And yet, there she is, and - along with Mary Magdalen and St John the Evangelist - she is my most favourite of saints.

I think it might take a lifetime to understand why, and then, maybe in eternity I can rejoice in the reason. In the meantime, a happy feast day to all my readers! May God bless you and St Teresa Benedicta pray for you.

The Battle of Pharsalus

Today is the 2055th Anniversary of the Battle of Pharsalus, which took place in 48BC between the forces of Julius Caesar and Pompey Magnus. Pompey had the bigger army, but Caesar was the better general, and he had the luck.

The civil war between Caesar and the Roman Senate began the previous year when Caesar had crossed the Rubicon river with his army. Under Roman law, generals were strictly prohibited from doing this; by so doing, Caesar made himself an enemy of the state.

So, why did he do it? Well, Roman politics in those days were about achieving fame and glory. In the 60s BC Caesar had risen through the magisterial ranks until he became Consul in 59BC - the highest rank attainable. After his year of office, he became proconsul with responsibility for Gaul. There he stayed for ten years, conquering whichever tribe he fought. Caesar was a brilliant commander - even the few battles that he lost, he turned to victory eventually.

Anyway, Caesar's problem was that his enemies in the senate wanted to prosecute him for alleged crimes committed in Gaul and while he was consul. But while he remained in office, Caesar was immune from prosecution. Hence, when his term in Gaul ended, he wanted to be given another consulship to protect himself from legal action.

The Senate, however, wasn't having any of it. It ordered Caesar to disband his army and come to Rome as a private citizen. Knowing what would happen if he did that, Caesar made the decision to cross the Rubicon and return to Rome with his army to fight his case - perhaps literally. Such an action was profoundly unroman, though not without precedence - Sulla had twice entered Rome with his army in the 80s BC.

The Senate was caught short by Caesar's crossing. Pompey was put in charge of the Senatorial army. His first action was to flee Rome for lack of men - despite the fact that Caesar had entered Italy with only one legion. Pompey and the many senators who stood against Caesar fled to western Italy and thence to Greece.

Caesar, meanwhile, passed down northern Italy taking control of various cities before entering Rome. He then pursued Pompey into Greece. The Battle of Pharsalus was the final engagement between Caesar's army and Pompey's. Pompey meant to defeat Caesar by punching a hole in his left flank with his cavalry. They would then wheel round and destroy the Caesarians from behind. But the cavalry were surprised by the arrival of soldiers that Caesar had kept in reserve, and scattered. As a result, Pompey was given a taste of his own medicine.

Caesar's army broke the Pompeian right flank, turned and proceeded to destroy the army. Pompey himself escaped to Egypt, but upon his arrival there, was killed by the boy king Ptolemy XIII's men, who were hoping to curry favour with Caesar. Other Pompeians also escaped - to North Africa and Spain. Caesar duly fought and defeated them. One battle, against Pharnaces II of Pontus (northern Turkey) was won so quickly that it gave rise to Caesar's famous quotation - Veni, vidi, vici: I came, I saw, I conquered.

So, the Battle of Pharsalus marked the effective end of the civil war. Julius Caesar took power and the Roman Republic was ended. As we know, Caesar was assassinated in 44BC. His heir, Octavius, became Augustus and the first Emperor of Rome. During his reign, he launched many public works (so much so that on his death bed, he is said to have said 'I found Rome made of brick, I have left it made of marble.'). In the months before his own death, Caesar too outlined many works that he intended to undertake for the good of the city. One cannot say that if the Senate had won the civil war it would have done likewise. Nor that it would have been able to build an empire such as was created by the Emperors. Therefore, I think that in the end, the right man won the battle, for the good of Rome and the world.

The Seventh Seal

Our Man (formerly) in the Army told me last weekend that I ought to be a film critic. It sounds a splendid idea, and I am sure it would be great fun, but after pondering what he had said, I came to the conclusion that like most people, when I write about films, I just say whether I liked it or not, what I liked or not and so on. I don't really get behind the film, so's to speak. Sometimes, it just isn't possible to do so. A case in point was The Seventh Seal, which we went to see last week. This film is Ingmar Bergman's magnum opus.

Filmed in the late 50s, The Seventh Seal is about a knight named Antonius Block who returns from the Crusades having lost his faith because of the violence he has seen. He wants to see God, but cannot. What - or rather, who - he does see instead is Death. Death, who is equated with the Devil, confronts Block on the beach, and is about to kill him when Block challenges him to a game of chess: winner takes all. This game continues through the rest of the film as Block journeys to his castle. Religious imagery abounds in The Seventh Seal (the title itself is taken from the book of Revelation) but I have to admit that I was foxed by what it all meant. As Our Man told me, the film is very existential. No wonder then that I had no idea.

One thing that did occur to me though was that surely the presence of Death by itself proved the existence of God. After all, the Devil is a fallen angel. Unfortunately, this thought is not followed through in the film.

In terms of the way in which it was filmed, The Seventh Seal is now very old fashioned. That got in the way of enjoying the picture a little for me. Despite this, the performances - with Max Von Sidow leading as Block - were splendid. The film is worth watching for dear old Jof the Fool who has visions of the Blessed Virgin and his wife Mia who never fail to lift the heart in an otherwise sad picture. Well, I say it is sad, but the film does have some fine comic touches. They are mainly provided by Block's Squire who has some of the best lines.

I enjoyed The Seventh Seal. It was a challenging film and one that no doubt repays thought given to it. As for being a critic, I shall leave that to the professionals, particularly the likes of Mark Kermode on Radio Five who is never failingly funny as he gets behind the latest pictures.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

warning! Spoilers ahead!

21st June 2007 was definitely Harry Potter Day, with the final installment of J. K. Rowling's famous series. Despite not being a particular fan of the Potter books, although I had read the previous six books, I knew I had to buy Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows to find out what happened to our hero. Although, if the truth be told, I was actually more interested in one of the other characters - Professor Severus Snape, the evil Potions and Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher. At the end of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince (Book Six), Snape killed the noble headmaster of Hogwarts, Harry's wizarding school. Despite this seemingly obvious act of wickedness, I hoped that he wasn't a baddie after all. Not that the evidence in Snape's favour was good - right from the beginning of the first novel (Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone), Snape had hated Harry and taken every opportunity to cause trouble for him. So, why should I hoped that Snape was good after all? Well, right from the beginning he had also helped Harry in various ways. For example, in The Philosophers Stone, when everyone thinks he is cursing Harry, he is actually mouthing a counter curse spell in order to save Potter from the real villain.

And so, to my delight, it turned out to be true. Snape was a double agent for Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster. When he killed Dumbledore, it was actually on Dumbledore's orders. You may not be convinced, but if you read The Half Blood Prince, it does make sense.

The Deathly Hallows is a long and meandering book. All the previous ones take place in Hogwarts, but in this, Harry and his two loyal friends - Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger - are on the run. Very little of significance happens for long periods of time, but Rowling keeps you wanting to turn the pages by regular twists and turns. A wedding is invaded by deadly Death Eaters, Harry and co invade the Ministry of Magic, Ron walks out on Harry... and so on.

The best twist of all, however, is Harry's discovery that Snape was a good guy all along. What makes Snape so interesting is that not only was he a good guy, he was a tortured one - the best characters in fiction (whether novels or on film) are always those who are the most complex. Thus, Snape did hate Harry. But why? Because he reminded Snape of Harry's late father, James, who not only bullied Snape when they were students at Hogwarts, but then went and saved his life during one particularly dramatic incident. Talk about humiliating: owing the man you hate your life. This could have broken Snape, but not only did he contain himself but helped Harry during his school life. Ah yes, and did I mention that Snape loved Harry's mother, Lily? In fact, everything he did for Harry, he did for her. I have got ahead of myself here - I should add that Mr and Mrs Potter died fighting the evil Lord Voldemort who is the series arch villain. Snape has now gone from classic villain to tragic hero. In what is retrospectively an almost unbearably poignant scene, we discover that Snape's petronas (a phantasm that can scare of the evil Dementors) is in the shape of a doe - just the same as Lily's.

The Deathly Hallows ends with the much awaited showdown between Harry and Voldemort. It ends with Harry's death... and then a reunion with Dumbledore. That interview is simply done but invites the reader to think long and hard about the context in which it is taking place. Is Harry in heaven? Is he not dead, just unconscious and dreaming? Rowling leaves it open for the reader to decide.

Harry does not stay dead for long. He has to finish his battle with Voldemort, who has attacked Hogwarts. By the time the battle for the school is over, several of characters whom we have come to know and love over the course of the series are dead and characters whom we thought would behave in one way surprise us. I am thinking particularly here of the Malfoy family. They are supporters of Voldemort, but Mrs Malfoy's desire to be with her son and let go of desire to kill and conquer leads her to save Harry's life and avoid the final battle.

The Deathly Hallows ends with a disappointing epilogue, but I have no hesitation in recommending this book. It is entertainingly written, absorbing and very thoughtful. Rowling is not a writer on the level of Tolkien, but the Harry Potter novels are in their way just as good as C. S. Lewis' Narnia books and would not look out of place next to them on the bookshelf.