Gains & Losses

Finished Andrew Marr's measured, engaging and highly entertaining A History of Modern Britain today. Curiously I felt more detached from my country in his account of the Blair years than for any other period, but I suppose that was simply to do with the fact that I just wasn't there. Mind you, I wasn't there for the late Thatcher & Major years, but still recognised what was going on.

Found myself almost as enraged about Blair's complicity in the disastrous invasion of Iraq as I felt at the time. And even more puzzled. How on earth did the government convince itself that the mythical weapons of mass destruction existed? All in all, I'd say Blair's problem was, in the end, a simple one. He came to believe his own publicity. Very dangerous. For all of us.

In the end Marr's greatest insight seems to me about the growth of consumerism and its pernicious effects upon British culture: This history has told the story of the defeat of politics by shopping. Pithy, to say the least. But he has the humanity and good sense to recognise that there are many good things about shopping and many people's lives have changed in many ways for the better since I was a little lad. Including my own. But we've lost much along the way.

Trivialities

I don't see myself as a particularly moody sort of chap - though it's easy to imagine others disagreeing with this self-servicing characterisation. But it's true that I can feel the most intense irritation over the trivial business of illegible handwriting, especially when attempting to mark a script that largely comprises such. One egregious example I encountered this afternoon took a good deal more than an hour to mark, throwing out my schedule for the day. Oh, and when those big-sized ads pop up on my handphone when I'm reading a particularly interesting article, sometimes covering as many as four paragraphs, I have to confess to being a less-than-happy soldier.

And now I come to think of it, something of the reverse is true. A cup of coffee lovingly made and presented can easily restore my equilibrium. The one pictured above did this for me last Monday at 10.45 am (which led to me immortalizing it - sort of - in this post.)

All this leads me to the less-than-genuinely-insightful sort of insight that nothing's really trivial once you weigh it up.

Even More Well Fed

It's the season for special dinners and lots of goodies being showered upon one at work. Very generous and mercifully short. Fortunately I managed to get to the gym this evening as a way of keeping everything in proportion.

Not sure how those folks who get special lunches on expense accounts cope with it all. Glad I'm not one of them.

The Reckoning

Very disturbing story in The Graun yesterday concerning the death of a migrant worker in Italy. The earliest victims of the climate crisis are, predictably, the wretched of the earth. (I originally wrote 'will be' rather than 'are', shielded as I am from the grim reality of it all.)

I suspect a great awakening will take place within my lifetime to what we've done to our only home and the creatures we share it with, and those from our own species it's been so easy to exploit. It won't be pretty.

Well Fed

The algorithm that drives my YouTube feed supplies me with some odd stuff at times. I think it may have got the wrong man on occasion. But when it gets it right it does so on a grand scale.

One such moment occurred around 10.00 am today. Suddenly a link to the mighty Adrian Belew doing the business with the equally mighty Metropole Orkest popped up and all manner of things was well.

The excitement and power of Crimson live, without Crimson being present. If you see what I mean.

Keeping It Personal

Must say, I've been really enjoying my reading lately. It took me a while to finish Jon Gresham's Gus simply because I kept breaking off to read further chunks of Andrew Marr's A History... regarding which I've just reached the end of the Thatcher era. Thoroughly enjoyed reading about her fall for the basest of reasons - my deep dislike of the woman and all she stood for. Not exactly gallant of me, but there you are.

I could pick out all sorts of segments from Marr's tome that made quite an impact on me in my reading so far, but one I'll mention here for oddly personal reasons. He gives a clear-sighted account of the Winter of Discontent of 1978 - 79, and I found myself thinking back to the piles of rubbish on the streets and the accompanying sense in the press of things falling apart. But, in truth, none of it had any real affect on me. I was too busy from September 1978 being utterly miserable as a completely inept teacher. The four months up to December of that year were without any doubt the most stressful of my life as I faced failure on what seemed to me an epic scale. It was only as Christmas arrived that I found the wherewithal to start to turn things around.

The early months of 1979 were a lot better for me, though not for the country. I didn't get good at my work over night, but I knew I was making progress and that was enough. And that progress meant I was able to get my weight under control with an ultra-strict, and very successful, diet. Hence, a minor transformation took place and a much happier me emerged.

Which is my version of the late 70s. Incredibly selfish, I know, but I suppose that's the way it is for most of us. I've lived through tumultuous times in their way and somehow managed to thoroughly, and gratefully, enjoy myself for most of them.

Keeping It Going

Earlier in the month I was praising the sheer exuberance of the opening of Jon Gresham's 2023 novel Gus: The Life and Opinions of the Last Raffles' Banded Langur, and wondering whether the writer could keep the energy going for the full length of a fairly longish novel. Well, he could and did and I'm happy to report that Mr Gresham has created something of a modern classic, at least in the eyes of this reader. It's a wild read (pun intended) in any number of ways, gripping and inventive and generally a blast. In a curious way it has many of the virtues of a graphic novel, not least in its general irreverence.

Remarkably the tale manages to be bitingly serious as an 'eco-novel' without being the least bit sanctimonious. I laughed out loud whilst reading more than once; always a good sign.

Shining Brightly

Spent a splendid three hours this afternoon at a virtual Lit Seminar (zooming away) in the company of a lot of bright young people with many very bright things to say about an intriguing variety of films and books (and one musical.) The participants had been tasked to produce presentations of an essentially academic nature on their chosen texts and, somehow, their enthusiasm for said texts had palpably survived the exercise. They also managed to sound genuinely academic, something I've struggled with since leaving university many decades ago.

I suppose I should say something cliched about all this, on the lines of these young people giving me hope for the future. But I won't since it's quite enough to enjoy their work, as I did today, in the present moment.

Variety, The Spice Of Life

Sad to say, I wasn't exactly a model of concentration throughout Friday Prayers today. I got somewhat distracted during the khutbah (in Malay, so very difficult for this hopeless linguist to follow even minimally) by some of the slogans on the backs of the t-shirts of my fellow-worshippers. Four in particular stood out for me, due in no small part to the odd variety involved. The first I consciously noticed featured the heading TEAMihsan, which seemed appropriate for the occasion. Here I should explain for non-Muslim readers that 'ihsan' is a key term in Islam, related in part to the notion of sincerity - the desire to attain excellence, a kind of perfection in worship and behaviour.

A bit less appropriate, though perfectly acceptable, was the slogan Club Med. I saw this as a bit of a contrast with TEAMihsan, though I suspect that in the long run it's possible to reconcile the two. This shirt happened to be situated right next to a guy who seemed to be wearing a Liverpool replica shirt. The name on his back read Mac Allister - unlikely to be his own name, I'm sure you'll agree. Initially I jumped to the conclusion it referred to Gary McAllister, then decided the shirt looked way too new to refer back so many years. Fortunately I then recalled that Liverpool signed that Argentinian chappie, Alexis Mac Allister (I think) and the mystery was solved.

Which left the back of the shirt that really held my attention: Vincent Van Gogh - Starry Night, with an excellent reproduction of that glorious work above the name of the great artist. Must say, this seemed to complement our worship of the Creator of all Things somehow.

So there it is, further evidence that there's little that's genuinely monolithic about my faith. If anything it embraces the glorious plurality of this world (and others, I'd venture to add.)

Staying Ahead

The plan to eat a bit more healthily in 2024, announced to the world early this year, has been a reasonable success. I haven't attempted to measure the change quantitatively, but I'm sure I've been generally skewed towards the green stuff in recent months. I've also gained, lost, gained again, lost once more, around 2kgs, hitting, then going back below, my fighting weight. And all this whilst thoroughly enjoying whatever grub I fill my face with.

Very occasionally I get friendly inquiries as to my recovery from being hospitalised in 2022 - actually pretty much two years ago to this day. My half playful but half serious answer is that I've recovered 110%. I know you can't do that, but it feels that way. For which I am deeply, deeply, grateful.