29 April 2008

To Kratero

I am very gratified to see that lots and lots of people (kind of) have taken the time to vote in my very important poll. I encourage you all to do so. For the avoidance of doubt (Bachman!), the poll very deliberately refers to the greatest general in antiquity.

This is because I would defy anyone to come up with a figure who was the equal of Caesar or Megas Alexandros! I know that Pompey was sometimes called 'The Great' (Sulla gave him that name and was probably being ironic), but he wasn't, really. One of these days I shall list the reasons why. The list will include the battles he 'won' by mopping up already defeated armies (e.g. Spartacus').

In the meantime, Bachman (AKA Arathorn) has raised some interesting question about what makes a good general. I will think about those and hopefully write something in due course.

***

Here in London, we are about to have the election for Mayor of the City. Present incumbent, Ken Livingstone is facing off against Tory Boris Johnson. On a recent radio programme, Livingstone blotted his copybook with me by comparing himself to Julius Caesar. How dare he. Now, I read in yesterday's London Paper that Boris thinks if he could be any Roman Emperor it would be Augustus. Boris as Augustus. I'm not sure I can imagine a more unimanagable thing. However, on the grounds that he has at least written about Rome, which is more than Ken has, I think he deserves everyone's vote on Thursday.

***

BTW: The title of this blogpost comes from Alexander's last words. As he lay on his deathbed, he was asked to whom he wished to leave his empire: 'to kratero' he replied. But did he mean 'to the strongest', which is the meaning of this phrase, or to his marshal Crateros?

26 April 2008

Cally's Catholic Miscellany

That the English and French are different has never been in doubt. We are good at fighting wars, they aren't; they are good at being stylish, we aren't. Etc etc. But, walking down the road the other day, I heard an Englishman (whose name could only have been John Bull) talking loudly to a friend who was French telling him that the reason we are so different is because of... the war! Apparently, that's when it all started.

***

Today, I was at Westminster Cathedral. A lady and then her daughter came and went from the confessional. Both were wearing mantillas. One black, one white. I have never seen that before. Mass (in Latin) was being said at the time, but is there a tradition of the mantilla being worn when going to confession?

***

The on-line version of the The Catholic Herald is reporting that doctors in "Rome concluded that an American man was miraculously cured of a spinal disorder after praying for [John Henry Newman's] intercession." Deo gratias. Let's hope that the Vatican sees it the same way.

***

Oh dear. Chelsea 2 Manchester United 1. I am still of the opinion that we are going to win the league title, but boy is it going to be close. But, if Chelsea should win the League and European Cup, one man I will feel very pleased for is Avram Grant. Chelsea's manager has had to put up with far too much criticism since he succeeded Murinho last year.

***

The Catholic Herald also carries an article on the decision by the Society of St Pius X not to seek reconciliation with the Catholic Church in light of Summorum Pontificum. Before this can happen, the SSPX believes that certain teachings of Vatican II need to be rejected by the Church. The Herald makes a stinging response to the schismatic organisation in its editorial. I wonder if the time is now to end talk of reconciliation with the SSPX as an organistation and 'reach out' more to its individual members. Send Bishop Fellay dvds of Doctor Who to remind him of the only person who can go back in time. Vatican II is not going to be rejected, either by Benedict or any other pope following. If he can't see that, I can't see that there is much point in talking to him any further.

***

The Catholic Herald also points out that the Catholic Traditionalist Ultras (Tim Parks might not like that) are splitting rather like the Protestants. Did you know that there is a Society of St Pius V? I didn't, but it is true. It is based in America and its website is here. Incredibly, it is in English. Anyone up for a Society of Pope St Pius I?

A Season With Verona by Tim Parks

Continuing my quest to read books given to me too long ago, I opened up A Season With Verona by Tim Parks, lent to me last year by The Venerable Bede. This is football-logue; the story of how Parks followed his beloved Hellas Verona Football Club to all over Italy during the 2000 - 2001 season. It is not an easy time for him; Verona are one of the also-rans of Serie A and therefore relegation fodder. True to this form, they start the season low down and stay there until the end, only keeping their Serie A status in a relegation play-off match against Reggia.

A Season With Verona is a very readable book. Parks writes fluently and with great insight. He stands both within and without football fandom - something that is essential if one is to avoid the absurdity of dedicating the whole of oneself to the support of what is really a business. Another strength that he has is the ability to draw on his literary, political and historical knowledge and apply it to his pilgrimage of faith with Verona without it coming across as contrived or fatuous.

Of course, his faith in Verona is wholly fatuous and unreasonable. This is a club that is destined to fail. It is provincial, little liked beyond its fans and - worst of all in a footballing context - poor; Hellas Verona are the kind of team that has to sell its good players in order to survive. The reason why the club is little liked is that, as we see with the monkey chants when Verona play teams with black players, no few number of Verona's fans are racist.
Parks writes a daring book, daring because he does not follow his team with the genteel supporters of the North, West or East stands, but with the hardcore fans of the curva sud. And as they are hardcore in their support of Hellas, so their actions and some of their views are equally hard. The best chapter of the book is the first, wherein Parks joins the coach to Bari. On it are supporters high on cocaine, a man who spends several hours shouting out that there is a bomb hidden here, there and everywhere; there is persistent foul language and abuse of the coach driver, of the police, of everyone who isn't them. It is exciting to read, but my goodness, I am glad I was not there; it would have been intolerable.

Tim Parks loves Hellas Verona. He loves the curva sud, too. Sometimes, this makes the book seem like an apology for the latter. Yes, they swear alot, are vile in some of their attitudes etc but really, it doesn't mean anything for they are only, really only, expressing their love for their football club. This won't wash. The vulgarity of the Brigate Gialloblù is grotesque. They are not folk heroes, but jokes - just like their lamentable team. I refuse to believe that it is in any way acceptable for one to reasonably express one's support for one's football team by acting in such a negative fashion.

Religion comes in for a bit of a bashing in this memoir. Parks was brought up the son of a vicar but seems to have been not only turned off but turned against religion by charismatic worship. But here is a word for atheists - don't advertise yourself as a football fan if you intend to take a stand against religion. Maybe you have dropped a dangerous enchantment for a harmless one, as Parks would have us believe, but on the other hand, you reaally have only replaced one false god with another. And where is the love on the curva sud? There is fraternity, for sure; there is a kind of martyrdom, but for what? Football only makes sense when taken with a big pinch of salt. Go in too deep and you enter Wonderland and it will make a fool of you.

For anyone interested in football, A Season With Verona is a must read. Indeed, for anyone interested in Italy, I would suggest that it is well worth a look. There is more to that country than fashion, the mafia and even the Catholic Church. You may not like what you see, but that is besides the point.

The Really Important Question

Reading around the blogs, I came to Lacrimarum Valle. In his latest post, Matt Doyle has a poll: "What do you think about Ascension Day being moved to Sunday?"

The answer to this question should be perfectly obvious so head over to L.V. and vote now!

In case you need any guidance, however, the decision to move the feast days was a bad one and showed how sappy the Catholic hierarchy of England and Wales are.

Anyway, inspired by Matt Doyle's poll, I have decided to have one of my own.
Who was the greatest general of antiquity?

Alexander the Great

Julius Caesar
pollcode.com free polls
Cally's Kitchen - First with the important questions!

New Blog Corner

Courtesy of Mulier Fortis: Mad Trad.
And out of the pages of In Hoc Signo Vinces: Antagonistic Pots and Pans & Scottish Catholic Observant.

23 April 2008

George and Will

Today is the Feast Day of St George, so I hope everyone is drinking warm bitter in celebration of our patron saint. April 23rd is also the birthday and date of death of William Shakespeare. So much is not known about Will including the reason for his demise. One legend, however, has it that he fell ill after a drinking binge with Ben Jonson, so you may want to drink that bitter moderately.
That is just one of the many fascinating little stories about Shakespeare. Another, which is a favourite of mine, is the story of the signet ring that was found next door to the church where Shakespeare is buried. From a blog dedicated to Shakespeare, which I have just this day discovered:

my ring I hold dear as my finger; 'tis part of it." --Cymbeline 1.4.124

Well, maybe not. In the witnessing/signatory clause at the end of Shakespeare's will, a formulaic legal document of the early seventeenth century, the word "seale" is struck through and replaced with "hand," the implication being that Shakespeare, when it came time to sign his will, could not find his seal ring. Here is the transcript of the final line of the will from the National Archives exhibit: "In Wit[ne]s whereof I have hereunto put my Seale (struck through) hand the Daie and Yeare first above Written. " You may examine the original at the exhibit.

What had happened to the seal ring? No one knew until March 16, 1810 when a ring was found "by a labourer's wife in the mill close adjoining Stratford-on-Avon churchyard. It passed into the possession of R. B. Wheler, Esq., the historian of the town ; and his sister, at his death, presented it to the museum of Shakespearian relics formed in the birthplace of the poet. It is of gold, weighing 12 dwts., having the initials W. S. linked together by a tasselled cord ; the only other ornament upon the ring being a band of pellets and lines on the outer edge of the bezel"

Read the rest of this fascinating article here.

21 April 2008

Enoch Powell 'The Rivers of Blood'

Yesterday was the 40th anniversary of Enoch Powell MP's famous 'Rivers of Blood' speech. I have heard about it over the years but had never read the speech itself. Thanks to Cranmer, I now had the opportunity to do so. Printing the speech off, I read it on the way to Hampshire today.

The speech is quite short. Powell begins by asserting the necessity of discussing future troubles as well as present ones. He then describes a conversation that he had recently had with a constituent who told him that if he could leave the country, he would have. The reason being that 'in 15 or 20 years' time, the black man will have the whip hand over the white man.'

Powell knows that he will be criticised for publicising what this opinion, but says he has no right to say nothing when what that constituent says is believed by so many other people. He then gives some figures: in 15 - 20 years (i.e. the early 80s) there will be 'three and a half million Commonwealth immigrants and their descendants' He states that by the year 2000 there will probably be five to seven million of the same. And they won't be spread out over the country but occupiers of 'whole areas'.

This great rise, Powell says, demands action: stopping the inflow of immigrants and increasing the outflow of them ('re-emigration', he calls it). He adds that both of these are Conservative Party policies.

Powell goes on. 'Those whom the gods wish to destroy, they first make mad' and the U.K. must be mad to allow so many immigrants into the country. In respect of re-emigration, Powell states that 'from time to time' constituents ask him for his help in leaving Britain.

He then outlines the third element to the Conservative Party's policy re: immigrants. Namely, that all in this country are equal before the law. For this reason, he opposes anti-discrimination laws - the reason why Powell made his speech, for such laws were at that moment going through Parliament.

For Powell, there was no need for anti-discrimination laws. They were simply discriminatory, just against natives instead of immigrants. Guessing his opponents' arguments, Powell says that there is no comparison between blacks in Britain and those in America. The latter were not yet totally free, but the former came to this country a free and full citizen.

Powell recognises that immigrants to this country face 'drawbacks', but they do not arise from the law but 'personal circumstances'. Meanwhile, the native population is being marginalised. Unable to obtain a hospital bed or a school place. Powell then cites the example of a lady living in Wolverhampton whose husband and sons died in the war and who earned money by letting her house. Immigrants took over her street. Some were rude to her, then all when she refused to let her home to them.

Powell recognises that some immigrants do integrate into British society, but not the majority. Originally, it is because their 'circumstance and background' rendered integration impossible, now, it is because anti-discrimination laws render it unnecessary. In support of this, he cites a Labour Party MP, John Stonehouse, who criticised a Sikh community for campaigning to 'maintain customs inappropriate in Britain'. Looking into the future, Powell adding 'I am filled with foreboding; like the Roman, I seem to see "the River Tiber foaming with much blood."

In concluding, Powell says that the violence in America will soon come to Britain 'by our own volition and our own neglect... it will be of American proportions before the end of the century'.

So, what is one to make of what Enoch Powell's speech? Firstly, the riots of the early 80s notwithstanding, we may be glad that his Cassandrine prophecy has not come to pass.

Secondly, the fact that I have not studied race relations leading up to 1968 make this a very difficult speech to interpret. With the benefit of hindsight, I could call Powell a fool. There have been no rivers of blood; Britishness (whatever that is, anyway), has been preserved. But to call him a fool would be to advertise myself as one because in order to understand Powell's words, I need to understand where he came from; what inspired them. Given the concerns of his constituents and the rioting in America it is perhaps no surprise that he spoke so aggressively about the matter.

Thirdly, the above notwithstanding, it still seems slightly amazing that Powell viewed the situation so negatively. Did he really imagine that black people would one day oppress whites? Or that the majority would use anti-discrimination laws so negatively? It seems hardly believable.

Fourthly, as he has too little faith in what black people might do now here, it seems to me that Powell has too much faith in white people to do the right thing for, unless I have read it wrongly, he believes that the native citizen should be allowed to 'discriminate in the management of his own affairs'. But he cannot have been happy with the way black people were treated by some whites and surely he cannot have denied that some legislation was required to deal with the problem.

Enoch Powell was certainly right when he said that 'whole areas' would be occupied by immigrants. He was also right to be wary of anti-discrimination legislation. Though in the beginning it may have been worthwhile, it also gave rise to the insidious idea of 'positive discrimination'. Finally, he was right to raise the issue of immigration. No society is strong or self confident enough to survive too big an influx. If only it were possible, there would never be a stranger whose case we needed to take, but it isn't and it is right that the politicians say so. But if only Powell had measured his arguments and his words, perhaps he could have contributed to the debate a lot more positively than ultimately he did.

On the road

Today, I attended a trade fair in Hampshire. A few of us from the office went together - by van. It was a most entertaining journey. Somewhere in Richmond, we got lost looking for the M3. Our driver was sure that he was going in the right direction and that the M3 should have been where we were now, only... it wasn't. Someone had stolen it.

As we searched for the motorway, we got stuck at the top of a T - Junction in a long queue of traffic. I was reading at the time and as I read I heard a sudden screeching sound; in the corner of the van window, a car bonnet suddenly appeared. Quite what the chav boy-racer thought he was trying to do I don't know, but he was clearly in a hurry to get somewhere - after passing us, he made a very good job of overtaking in a rock solid jam!

Not long later, we crossed a bridge and I suddenly realised where we were - Richmond High Street; on the road I sometimes take when I walk to the Stoop from Richmond Station. I asked our driver if the M3 was the motorway that passed Twickenham stadium. Yes, he said, it was. Ah-ha! For a few glorious moments, the Sat. Nav. went down and I took over the directions - fully intending to guide us onto the motorway, past the glorious temple of rugby that is the Stoop!

Alas, the Sat. Nav came back on-line and my plan was foiled. Not before, however, the auto-voice gave the curious direction of, straight on, left, left and left again.

Big Brother and his cousin Sam

The best sequence in The Bourne Ultimatum was the Waterloo chase. The American Secret Service had taken control of the CCTV cameras at Waterloo station and Bourne had to try and guide the frightened Guardian journalist out of the station before one of the secret agents caught and killed them.

According to The Telegraph today, American authorities now have access to images obtained from British CCTV cameras, under licence from the Home Secretary. It is not quite The Bourne Ultimatum, but in these days when there are fierce arguments over what powers British authorities should have, it still does not look so good.

One paragraph that really stands out in the Telegraph's report is this,

...the Home Office defended the powers in the certificate, which was signed specifically for the purposes of counter terrorism and national security.

Any faith I had in the HO doing the right thing ended here. Cast your mind back, what, two weeks to the local council that used anti terrorism legislation to spy on a family... which it suspected of lying on a school application form about living in the catchment area of its chosen school.

How long, I wonder, before we find America misusing this certificate?

Further to the above, I wonder also what the U.S.A. has given in return for the licence. A silly question, really; you may remember that when Britain passed legislation to make it easier for suspects to be extradited to America, America was supposed to pass reciprocal legislation. To date, I have not heard that it has.

Oh, and one more thing, the extradition legislation was supposed to primarily about making it easier to extradite suspected terrorists. Most suspects who have fallen foul of it so far, however, have been businessmen.

20 April 2008

They could have done nothing instead

While he was part of the shadow cabinet or deputy prime minister, I am not aware that anyone made fun of John Prescott for his size - it was usually for his poor command of English - but I would be surprised if it did not happen. Thus, the news that he fought a ten year battle against the eating disorder bulimia reminds me how unwise (as well as uncharitable) it is to make fun of politicians because of their perceived failings.

When I was growing up, Ronald Reagan was a figure of fun because of his poor memory. It appears, however, that this was the onset of Alzheimer's Disease. Slightly less funny. Like Prescott, George W. Bush often struggles to make himself understood. But I have heard that he might be dyslexic (could the same be true of Prescott?). Who would laugh at that?

Three Glorious Years Reigning

In this most excellent post, Mulier Fortis reminds us that yesterday was the third anniversary of the election of Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger as pope. She asks 'Can you remember where you were...?' when you heard of Ratzinger's election. I certainly can. I had just got home from work and if memory serves, Arathorn and Gilraen were watching the news coverage from Rome. Either that, or we switched on the television to see what was going on. Anyway, a few minutes after five o'clock, the smoke turned white and the bells started to peel. Then Cardinal Estevez came out and, as Mac says, milked the moment for all it was worth.

Iosephum... Ratzinger? I thought, but perhaps there were other cardinals with that name. Then, he mentioned Ratzinger and I could have run all the way to Philadelphia and run up Rockey's stairs and punched the air! My heart leapt and all was well.

If you visit Mac's blog (which you should) she also has a YouTube clip of Catholic commentator Christina Odone's interview with Jeremy Paxman and a priest I don't know but would love to meet which, I should think, was conducted on the night following Cardinal Ratzinger's election. I had not watched it before, but upon doing so now, I was pleased - very pleased - to see not only how wrong Ms Odone was about Benedict then, but how wrong about him she has proved to be since. The real star of the show is the priest. Talk about laying it down righteous. He does so in a very good way.

Not the luck but the strength of the Irish

London Irish 13 Harlequins 6


1 Gloucester 20 66
2 Bath 20 63
3 Harlequins 20 60
4 Leicester 20 58

5 Wasps 18 55
6 Sale 19 54
The teams in red are in play off positions

To the old White Bear pub in Hampstead to watch Harlequins take on London Irish with Our Man of the Antonii courtesy of Sky Sports. As the BBC website says, it was a game 'dominated by defence'. The defence, that is, of Harlequins. For the duration of the match, the backs were strangers to the London Irish try line as the forwards Cnut-esque tried to push back the wave after wave of Irish attack. Given that the backs were AWOL, it is a surprise that Irish only scored one try throughout the game - and that when Harlequins were reduced to 14 men after Brown was sin binned for some offence or another.

Given that London Irish dominated the whole of this game, it was a welcome surprise when Quins took the lead after a penalty from Jarvis. This was after Julian Sands lookalike, Hewat, missed a penalty when it bounced off the upright. Irish scrum half Richards looked dashing in attack. But then, with his curly blond hair he does rather look like a character from Brideshead Revisited.

After the break, London Irish first equalised then went ahead with two penalties. Their try came late on but I think was a just reward for their endeavours. But will not be a performance or result that they will be particularly pleased with as they get ready to play Perpignan in the semi final of the Heineken Cup next weekend. Any team that aims to win that trophy must be far more penetrating than Irish were in this game.

As for Harlequins, this match was a big come down after recent results. Two extremely difficult games now follow - against Sale and Leicester. Both will need to be won to guarantee a play-off berth. Of course, if Sale and Wasps lose the next game or two then Quins' results won't matter so much, but with the form that they are in I don't think I will be relying on that!

Today, Sale are home to Newcastle today and Wasps away to Saracens.

After the game we remained in the pub and were reduced to checking the internet via mobile phone for the Manchester United score. The OWB does not broadcast Setanta TV on which the game was shown. It ended in a very lucky 1 - 1 draw for the Reds. We play Chelsea in the next league game. It is away and Avram Grant's team have to win it to stay in the title chase. Yet, even if they do, Chelsea must still hope that United's final two opponents - West Ham Utd and Wigan - can draw or defeat them in order to claim the league title (assuming they win their last games also). Therefore, United still ought to win through, but if we lose to Chelsea, even though West Ham and Wigan are not on paper the toughest opponents, those games are sure to be nail biting occasions!

18 April 2008

Edinburgh

Here are a few photographs of Edinburgh. First up is an unfinished, er, temple?! It stands on Calton Hill which, although I have visited Edinburgh numerous times in the past had never gone up it.

I took this picture from the top of Nelson's Monument, a delightful memorial of Admiral Nelson's greatest and most poignant victory.
Edinburgh Castle must be the money shot. Here it is, below. According to the histories, the hill on which the castle stands was occupied during the Anglo-Saxon age by tribes from whose king Eidyn the city gets its name. Despite many battles, assaults and general bad behaviour by the Scots and English, the castle still stands. Inside is the One O'Clock Gun which goes off every day at, well, one o'clock to let the sailors know the correct time. Of course, when the Gun was first fired, there was no such thing as sat. nav. and the lack to keep them on the straight and narrow in the straits and and at sea.

Whereas Edinburgh Castle represents Scotland's war like past, the building below is a testament to its spiritual present as it is Edinburgh University's School of Divinity. Gilraen says that her brother (who is now a minister in the Canadian Presbyterian church) was taught here.
And here is another side to Edinburgh. Arthur's Seat. I did mean to climb (or walk) to the top of this but ran out of time. I suppose it is so named because of King Arthur, but have no idea of its history beyond that supposition. Perhaps I need to visit its page at Wikipedia.

And speaking of Gilraen's brother, here is their father's church right next door to Manor. Inside is a Guest Book that goes back to the 70s!

Thoughts of a Berry Cat

He thought I was asleep, but as you can see, I really was awake; and now that my servant has gone to get ready for work, it is time for me to put paw to keyboard! Purrrrr! Humans are a very funny people. Take HisSisterHevs. She has just aquired a new thing. I think he is human as he has arms, legs and a head although he is very small. She is also very pleased with him, despite the fact that, as I have pointed out on her blog, he has no fur! And - you will not believe this - he has no teeth, either! Can you imagine it! If I had had no teeth when I was born, I don't know where I would be now. Drinking milk, milk and nothing but milk! Now, milk is fine, but Purina catfood is sooooo much nicer! Oh, and as for the chicken that my servant's fatherdad leaves out after Sunday. Oh, yes! A meal is as good as a sleep. Almost. Purrrrrrzzzzzzz.

Kirkton Manor

On Thursday last week, the day after watching the Barbarians play Edinburgh Academicals, I took a bus to Peebles, in the Scottish Borders. When I were a wee bairn (as the Scots might say), we used to visit Peebles for our summer holidays. More specifically, we visited Gilraen's father, who was a minister in the Church of Scotland at his Manor.

The journey to the Manor took us out of Peebles and past Niedpath Castle on the left hand side of the road. I don't know if it is occupied or not, but I always viewed it with some awe as I was told (or read) that it was haunted by a lone piper who would play his pipes on the rooftop balcony.
Further up the road, I instantly remembered this stretch of road - as you can see, the branches lean forward almost creating an arch. During the summer, when the branches are in leaf (if that is the correct way to put it), the arch effect is complete and driving underneath them is like driving through a hall. It was very exciting when I came to this road because it was now that I knew for sure that I had taken the right road to grampa's house.
Spring is in the air! As this lamb plays with his mother, I should record here that I did not find the road to grampa's house by my own work but thanks to the very helpful lady in the Peebles Tourism Office.
Here is the Manor! We would drive down that driveway, past a much longer lawn wall, with the tyres crumpling the gravel underneath. There used to be a seat underneath the ground floor window on the left and somewhere in the house is a photo of all of us looking very young and 70s! The bottom right window was the kitchen. Directly above it is one of the bedrooms. I slept there. The window in the middle of the house is at the end of the hallway while the window on the middle left is a bedroom also. I should add that the room behind the ground floor left window was the living room. I can't remember what room is behind the gable window. Perhaps Arathorn and Gilraen could fill me in. The Manor is in private ownership now, although Grampa's church is still in use and looking quite splendid. The most significant change in the look of the house is the yellow paint. In our day, the walls were still their natural grey. There is now also an extension on the right hand side (out of sight in the picture, above), which seems to create a new conservatory.
Driving to the Manor took forever and I was sure that the car journey from Peebles to Manor itself took an hour at least. However, I walked to the latter in about forty minutes! Time clearly shortens as you get older.
Finally, another feature of our Manor holidays was walks. In those days, Arathorn was the fastest walker. Nowadays, I have just about caught up...! In the photograph above is the River Tweed. On the bank to the left are the picnic tables where we often stopped and where I stopped for a quick snack. Oh, I also attempted an impromptu game of pooh-sticks but failed to get a result as the pebble floored river gives the water a brown hue that disguised the sticks rather too well!

17 April 2008

Cally's Miscellany

No sooner than I start uploading photos to the blog, than Blogger decides it does not want to play ball, anymore. So, here are some random thoughts.

Western civilisation really is dying. What other conclusion is there to draw from the success of 20/20 cricket? It is the form of the sport that removes all that makes cricket great, i.e., the strategy and tactical battles. And on Radio 5 tonight they were talking about franchises in England. Grrrr.

It must have been a quiet day at work today (if only!) because I had time to invent a new game: Most Useless Tortures Ever Invented. First up, Waterboarding - with beer.

Martin Johnson is the new manager of England. Brian Ashton has been treated disgracefully by the RFU but it has certainly been brave by choosing "Johnno" to replace him. Johnson is the hardest man on the planet, but has no coaching or managerial experience. Will he be up for the challenge of making England great again? I think he will, but I suspect there will be wobbles along the way.

As I write, Chelsea are beating Everton 1-0 but it doesn't change the fact that Manchester United are still going to win the premiership. Ha!

The View Is Good From Up Here

Leeds Carnegie 6 Harlequins 32

SisterHevs has left a comment to my previous post. It must be the quickest one I have ever received! She asks if the socks in the close up photograph belong to a Harlequin. The answer is no because they could not spare any players, what with being in second place and all!

Actually, as of tonight, the Quins are in third place but still looking good to finish in the top four. All they need to do is beat London Irish on Saturday (game on Sky TV), Sale the week after and then Leicester Tigers the week after that. No problem.
If Harlequins do all that, they will deserve to win the grand final. However, they have already exceeded my expectations for the season. Thank goodness the bad run took place during the Anglo-Welsh Cup and Heineken Cup games.

With that said, their rise up the league is not a surprise to me. I have known since their promotion back to the premiership that they had the promise to be a great team. Hopefully, if I look back over previous Quin posts, I will find that I wrote it down as well!

As I mentioned above, London (i.e. Reading) Irish are Saturday's opponents. Although they represent the most beatable of Harlequins last three opponents, this will still be a tough game. I shall be dealing with the stress in the most manly fashion possible: in the pub, watching the game on TV. Unless, that is, there is football on. There had better not be.

Barbarians play the Edinburgh Academicals

HURRAY! Thanks to the combined efforts of Gilraen, Arathorn and my Far Sighted Bro, my photographs have now been uploaded from my new camera to the computer. Which means, here they are on the blog. Thank you guys! I owe Arathorn a glass of water, Far Sighted Bro a pint and Gilraen a wee dram.

So, last week, I took a few days off work to visit Scotland. The primary purpose of my trip was to see the Barbarians play Edinburgh Academicals as part of their 150th anniversary celebrations. After a slightly cramped journey on the coach from Victoria Station, I arrived in Scotland's capital early on Wednesday morning. That meant a day of sightseeing and ambling around before the big match.

It took place at Raeburn Place, on the same pitch that England and Scotland contested the first Calcutta Cup in the first ever rugby international in 1871. That's history for you. Here are the two sides coming out from the club house.
The Barbarian side included Peter Sidoli of Newport Gwent Dragons and Wales and Gavin Quinnell of Worcester Warriors but most of the side were either miner premier league or National Division One players - with two honourable exceptions: Stuart Moffat and Anderea Moretti of Viadana, home town of Petrarch's Muse!

As for the game, it was in terms of the score thoroughly one sided - 43 - 0 to the Baa Baas. This is not to say that Edinburgh rolled over. Far from it. They were very unlucky to cross the Barbarian line in the first half during a fabulous rolling maul without scoring a try (great defending stopped the ball from being touched down) and through out the game took the fight to the Barbarians. Unfortunately for them, even a 'second string' Barbarian side proved too strong.
The Barbarians are the only rugby side which doesn't have a club house. Another unique feature is that it doesn't have any socks either: the players wear the socks of their clubs. Can you guess which socks the player above is wearing?
According to The Scotsman's and Daily Telegraph's reports around 3,000 people attended the match. There was a permanent and temporary stand, neither of great size - as you can see from the photo above. I was stood in the corneer, as the Accies flag indicates.

As is common with friendlies, there were lots of substitutions. Did you know that once upon a time, there was no subbing in a rugby match? And I think that that was during the days when it was legal to hack at players' legs and probably behave in an altogether more violent fashion within the rule of the law.

Despite the physicality of the modern game, it is still a whole lot more polite and gentlemanly than, say, football. In the photograph below, the game has ended and the players are going to shake hands with each other. A few minutes later, both sides formed tunnels to applaud and hip hip hurray the opposing side.
So, the game ended. The players returned to the club house to get cleaned up and ready for the After Game Dinner. As for me, I returned to my hotel to listen to Manchester United satisfactorily defeat Roma and earn their place in the semi final of the European Cup.

14 April 2008

Camera Obscura

If you had been thinking that Cally's Kitchen had been rather empty of late, that is because I have been away in Scotland these last few days - taking in a rugby match, the Borders and my old university town of Dundee. I have some lovely photographs (well, I think they are) to share but unfortunately, have not been able to work out how to transfer the pictures from my new camera to the computer. If anyone knows how the Kodak Easyshare ZD710 works, please, please let me know!

7 April 2008

The Tories: Conservatives and the Nation State, 1922-97 Alan Clark

I recently finished reading Alan Clark's biography of the Conservative Party - lent to me ages ago by the Venerable Bede. It is a breezy walk through eighty years of Tory history, from Stanley Baldwin's landslide general election victory in 1922 to the last days of John Major's Government in 1997.

Of course, we are not talking about a 75 year period of complete Conservative dominance, although it was in power for the majority of these years, for the party had its downs as well as ups. In the thirties, it had to share power with the Labour Party. Not that this disturbed every Conservative too much. Clark reports that at varying periods, leaders (for example, Churchill and Edward Heath) supported the idea of a coalition government.

In 1945, as the inquisitive cow has reported, the Tories were defeated by a Labour landslide. It was an astonishing result given Churchill's reputation. Equally astonishingly, that landslide lasted but a term. In 1951, Churchill was returned to power.

The Conservative Party in the 50s was mauled by the fall-out from the Suez Crisis. Unless I have read Clark wrongly, Harold Macmillan appears to have acted in a treacherous fashion towards his leader (Antony Eden) and country. As the crisis deepened, Macmillan met President Eisenhower in Washington D.C. but failed to ask for his help. Even worse - much worse - he appears to have connived with the head of the Federal Reserve to withhold money from Britain thus putting her war effort at a disadvantage.

Eden was done for by the Suez crisis. Macmillan 'supermac' took his place. His premiership is most noted for the U.K. never having it so good - and the 'night of long knives', when Macmillan sacked six senior members of his government in order to shore up his own power. It didn't work and like Eden he fell ill.

The Conservatives turned to a Lord - Alec Douglas-Home to take his place. Unlike Macmillan, he was a gentleman. Needless to say, he didn't last long as PM! This is a little unfair as he was not deposed by his party. Perhaps affected by the Profumo scandal, the public turned to Harold Wilson and the Labour Party.

Douglas-Home was succeeded by Edward Heath, he of the world's longest sulk. But when Heath, who bore an uncanny likeness to an elderly Charlie Chaplin, was defeated for the leadership of the Conservative Party by Margaret Thatcher in 1975, he could really have no cause for complaint. He had lost three elections overall (1966, March 74 & Oct 74) and gone into the March '74 election when he didn't even need to. And, of course, he had failed to deal with the militancy of the Trade Unions.

Clark suggests that if Jim Callaghan had held the next election in 1978 he would probably have won it. But, just like Gordon Brown last Autumn, he lost his nerve. The 'winter of discontent' and 18 years of Tory rule followed.



A little surprisingly, Clark has nothing to say about the IRA bomb attack on the party at its conference in Brighton. After looking at the Miners' Strike, won as much by the incompetence of Arthur Scargill as by Government skill, Clark moves swiftly through the Thatcher years to her fall in 1990. First came the dark horse Sir Anthony Meyer, then the leonine heir apparent, Michael Heseltine, but it was in fact Thatcher's own favourite, John Major, who won the ultimate prize.

But his was a poisoned chalice. Divisions over Europe and sleaze - scandals usually of a sexual nature - chipped away at his already slight authority following the narrow election win in 1992.

1997 was the latest Major could hold the next election. The Tories knew they would lose, but the early predictions were that they would do so by as few as 50 seats. In the end, it was by rather a few more! Enter Tony Blair et al.

Clark's book is a thick one, but is still hardly more than an accomplished overview, one that will lead those interested into a deeper study of the subject. Although he was himself a Conservative MP, Clark is fairly even handed in his approach. So much so that I couldn't tell you whether he was a 'wet', 'one of us' or somewhere in between. Recommended.

6 April 2008

The Inquisitive Cow on Howitzers, Libel Law and the 1945 General Election

dúnadan: Hallo! I am standing in a foot of slush and snow and all for love of Gerrie, the inquisitive cow! Hallo Gerrie.
inq. cow: Dear reader - or listener to our podcast on iTunes - although I esteem and love the dúnadan greatly, I must correct him by saying that in actual fact the level of snow is two centremetres. I checked it a minute ago with a very competant ruler. And he is wearing wellington boots.
dúnadan: Well, it is still snowing, so it could rise to a foot!
inq. cow: The weather is due to warm up later. I doubt it will rise to a hoof!
dúnadan: Oh, alright then; so, let's get going. What has been making you inqui--- >wheeeeee!< >BOOM!< My word, what on earth was that?!
inq. cow: Let's take a look!
dúnadan: Okay! >puff!<>puff!<. Goodness, I need to exercise! Now, we are here--- well, I never! Tecumseh Squirrel! With a--- what is that?

inq. cow: A medium range Howitzer! Augustine Squirrel asked me to put one together to protect the Palafitte from minks but it looks like his son has got hold of it!
tecumseh squirrel: I am testing it for him! Death to Rabbits! >BOOM!<
inq. cow: Tecumseh, if you are aiming for Farmer Bill's house, I am going to take you by the ear back to your father this minute!
tecumseh squirrel: No fear! I am aiming for his tractor! >KA-BOOOMM!!<
tecumseh's legion: Hurrahh!
dúnadan: I don't believe it! They hit the tractor! Farmer Bill won't be happy!
farmer bill: (appearing in camouflage gear from under the hedge) Hullo Gerrie! Hullo dúnadan! Not to worry! That was my old one. I can sell it for scrap now. Well done, Squirrel; just one shot needed to get your range! Let's open a bottle of cider!
dúnadan: People - and animals - round here - they are very funny!
inq. cow: Can I tell you about this howitzer, dúnadan?
dúnadan: I think you would like to!
inq. cow: Very good! Well, this version is a 6 Inch 26 cwt howitzer. It was developed in 1915 and saw service in the Great War and World War II. In the latter, these guns fired 22.4 million rounds.
tecumseh squirrel: 22,400,003 now! >BOOM!!<
dúnadan: It doesn't have make a racket! >CRASHHH!<
dúnadan: Let's move away, Gerrie - perhaps too the Wood. (sound of Gerrie Cow and the dúnadan walking). Hallo Bertie. Are you off to see the howitzer?
bertie pig: Indeed I am!
dúnadan: Gerrie, I observe that Bertie Pig is wearing a great coat and goggles. I don't like what that portends.
inq. cow: Hmmm. And did you see what he was carrying?
dúnadan: The stick?
inq. cow: Actually, it was a steilhandgranate. A stick grenade.
dúnadan: Gulp!
inq. cow: Don't worry - it is an heirloom of Farmer Bill's. His father brought it home from Germany after World War II. We are now on the edge of the Wood. Shall we resume our conversation?
dúnadan: Yes. What else have you been up to, this week?

inq. cow: Well, apart from assembling the howitzer, I have been investigating British Libel laws through corresponding with Mr Keith Schilling at Schillings law firm. Jenny Wren recommended him. She knows the partners there.
dúnadan: Given the people that Jenny Wren knows, I am surprised she would need solicitors to protect her reputation!
inq. cow: Oh, she was helping them - not the other way round!
dúnadan: I see. So, what have you learnt about libel laws?
inq. cow: Ah, well! If someone defames me - that is to say, if they say something in public that exposes me to the hatred or ridicule of others, or causes me to be shunned or looked down upon by right minded people - that is libel. And I can sue! Moooh!
dúnadan: I see. How do you work out what a right minded man would think?
inq. cow: Well, that is the job of the libel lawyer like Mr Schilling. He has to convince the jury that what has been said is libellous. Sometimes it will be obvious, other times less so.
dúnadan: Would it be libellous if I said you were thick and not interested in anything?
inq. cow: It might be. But all right minded people - and animals - would know that you were wrong so I wouldn't need to take any action! In fact, because you had been thick in making the allegation, I think I would sue you for libelling yourself! Gosh. I wonder if Mr Schilling would take me on as a partner! Mooooooh!
dúnadan: Very clever! How does the internet fit into libel law?
inq. cow: A good question. I have found that it creates new hazards for those wishing to sue for libel. For example, who is the publisher of the piece? The writer or the service provider? Tricky questions. I do not know yet if they have been tested in court.
dúnadan: Alright. Well, good luck in your research! Now, then, before we end our conversation today, I understand that you have been investigating the underlying reasons for the Labour Party victory in the 1945 General Election.inq. cow: That's right. Hmm. It was a most interesting time. The Conservative Party should have won. True, mooo!, it had a poor campaign, but it also had Mr Churchill and he was the hero of the country! Yet, the Labour Party - under Mr Attlee - won a landslide victory finishing 145 seats ahead of the Tories!
dúnadan: What happened?
inq. cow: Well, the electorate thought that the Labour Party would win the peace in the same way that the National Government - not the Conservative One - won the war. And given that Mr Attlee's party offered the National Health Service and Welfare State, that is not a surprise.
dúnadan: Exciting times!
inq. cow: Indeed. Do you know, if Labour had got 70,000 or so more votes, they would have won over 50% of the vote. Moooooh! Most impressive!
dúnadan: Indeed--- >wheeeeeee!< Hullo, they are firing over here now!
inq. cow: Look!
dúnadan: That's Bertie Pig! Holding onto the Stick Grenade for dear life!!
bertie pig: Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! >splat!<
dúnadan: He has hit a tree! Oh dear!
bertie pig: (from atop a tree) I think I need a little more gunpowder!
inq. cow: Oh, Bertie!
dúnadan: We had better help get him down. Well, Gerrie, thank you for your time today. We have discussed some very interesting subjects!

1 April 2008

Bad News From the Vatican

I was reading The Times over a cigarette and glass of port in my club this morning and was shocked to read this story. Taken from the on-line edition of the paper:

Benedict To Repeal Motu Proprio?

On 7th June 2007, Pope Benedict issued a document entitled Summorum Pontificum in which he granted priests the right - for the first time in 40 years - to say the Tridentine Mass without having to ask the permission of their bishop. His move was hailed by Catholic traditionalists as a breakthrough in their struggle for equal acceptance of the old form of the Mass alongside the new.

But now, following secret consultations with bishops across the world, reports have emerged from the Vatican that the pope may repeal his motu proprio in two years time, when bishops are due to officially report back to him on the progress of its implementation.

The reason for the pope's decision are as yet uncertain, but sources close to him blame the post Vatican II generation of Catholics; those who campaigned most vigorously for the liberalising of the Mass. "They wanted it, and they were given it," said one priest who works in the Vatican City, and who did not wish to be named, "but as soon as it came into their possession they used it not as a weapon of love against Satan but as a weapon of evil against other Catholics.

"All of a sudden, all that mattered to them was wearing the right coloured vestments, using the appropriate chalice, facing east, speaking Latin and castigating Duns Scotus. Absurd. The Holy Father has received very many letters regarding the conduct of these people - I can hardly say Christians - and he is sorrowful to the point of anger. They have made a mockery of his search for liturgical truth and forced him to spend many hours writing letters of apology."

The Times
contacted the office of Cardinal Cormac Murphy O'Connor, which gave the following statement. "It is popularly believed that the cardinal was lukewarm or even hostile to the issuing of Summorum Pontificum. This was not so. In fact, he was one of the then secret committee that drew up the motu proprio. Thus, Cardinal Murphy O'Connor is deeply disappointed in this news from the Vatican. He will say a private Mass for the Pope's strength tonight." Early reports indicate that this Mass will be in English.

Ironically, support for the Pope has come from the Society of St Pius X, which split from Rome over the issue of the suppression of the Tridentine Mass. In a brief statement Bishop Williamson said, "The Tridentine Mass was born organically of the earliest form of the Mass which came out of the rituals of the Jews. The same Jews who seek to take over the world. I am happy, therefore, that it should be abrogated
once more. You may ask why, then, am I a member of the Society which seeks to propogate the Tridentine Mass. I ask myself that question too."