Immortal Diamond

...all the past mistakes must be included as teaching moments and not just something to hate.

As befits one who seems to spend most of his days sat in the bedroom working on his laptop - I work from home, honestly - when I recently (or should that be finally?) finished reading Immortal Diamond I updated the status on Goodreads, which being linked to my Facebook account posted an update there. And then I had this extraordinary thought, given the subject matter should I add a comment to the effect that I’m not “one of them”.

I’m only half joking too, such are the negative connotations associated with religious belief amongst many of those I know. Nevertheless I’ll occasionally feel duty bound to correct the extremes, when feeling particularly bullish to remind some that atrocities supposedly in the name of religion (and there’s an argument to be had there too) pale in comparison to those of the last century, the bloodiest we’ve yet managed; it’s an old repeated argument I know, but theirs is much older. Still, even then I’ll sometimes mitigate my offense; I’m not “one of them”. Is this to add weight to my argument or am I sometimes the coward?

It was interesting, though a difficult book to read. Those moments that made me stop and think were outweighed by those of frustration at repeated references to scripture. I was disappointed, as if being excluded from the obviously decent and inclusive nature of Richard Rohr. Well, it is a Christian book so I can hardly complain. Was I any better than those silly people who interpret the Bible literally rather than spiritually or, if you will, metaphorically? Next time, if there is a next time, I must try harder.

I, Atheist

Atheist; it’s at best a useless description, carrying as it does a hint of the passive aggressive. I think we’re better off stating what we are rather than what we’re not. We can do without conveniently attributing the root of our ills to some other social group, you know, the one to which we don’t belong. Let’s show the courage, the common decency, to take ownership of the evil with which we’re troubled. It’s not that it’s our fault, but neither is it theirs.

Lost

It’s the economy

For some time now I have been perplexed by that seeming lack of correlation between those polls asking voter intent, and those asking who they most trust with the economy. When it comes to the economy the Conservatives have a healthy lead, when it comes to how people intend to vote...

I asked a friend, a Socialist, why this might be and she came up with the rather surprising reply that people could be selfish. It hadn’t occurred to me to ascribe this particular motive, though I confess my own suspicion - that people could be stupid - is hardly less provocative.

There are of course other measurements, yet it is a strong economy that enables our love for education and the health service to be more than empty gesturing. It is a strong economy that enables our support for the vulnerable. Those things we live for, by which we measure ourselves, are made possible by that thing that enables us to live. So perhaps I should expect the ill-advised “they’re privatising the NHS” scare-mongering (otherwise known as bollocks) from my Labour friends; imputing evil to their opposition is all they have to offer.

How much?

My daughter, who may as well be a teenager, though that age will be soon enough upon me, recently rescinded a previous decision over a school-arranged French exchange by deciding she now wished to go. Naturally, on being told the cost I exhibited as much horror as I could muster. “I could”, I suggested, “sell part of my liver”. To which she replied “you’ll get more for a kidney”.

Hold your prayers

I have been mulling on a note informing the intended recipient that she would be prayed for, wondering somewhat facetiously whether those prayers wouldn’t best be put on hold, given this was what had happened to the appointment. God bless the idiosyncratic ways of our glorious NHS, inviting prospective patients in for a pre-op assessment without knowing the date of the operation itself. Whilst I love the principle, I continue to be bemused - and that’s being polite - at the level of waste and inefficiency we grant this 1.7 million tentacled behemoth.

I am perplexed too at those ivory-towered dwelling hospital consultants who in railing against reform speak of the dangers of fragmentation, giving the wholly erroneous perception that the many parts of the NHS sing in perfect harmony. Imagine a public diktat requiring Tesco, admittedly a minnow in comparison, to only sell food it had grown itself. Somehow they manage a huge number of suppliers in a joined-up fashion and in doing so provide a better service to the customer.

It is of course a heresy to compare the NHS to anything; it is unique, real-world comparisons simply don’t apply. Foolish me to suggest that any concerns over cherry-picking by those evil private corporations might be allayed with an overly simplistic analogy on 2-for-1 tubs of ice-cream; “when the offer stops we shop elsewhere” I suggested. “But you can’t” she replied, “You can’t compare the NHS to ice-cream”.

Masturbation for the masses

Blimey Miley, that was quite a show you put on. I didn’t watch it of course and had it not been for Twitter I wouldn’t even have known it had happened. As it is I still don’t know what VMA stands for and I’m only vaguely aware of who you are, but then I’m in my late forties and not, let’s hope, the target audience. That would be a million teenage boys and girls for whom it’s good material; well, for the boys anyway for whom you give such relief. I’m not so sure what it does for your female following but I should think it involves an unhealthy body image and neutering the English language. Yes, I think you’re a poor example (I would say that wouldn’t I) but if Elvis couldn’t manage then what chance have you in stunting their growth?

I am curious as to what Miley’s Dad, who was in the same line of work - singing that is, not twerking, whatever that is - made of it all. From what I read he has a connection to one of those over-bearing parent groups with a never-ending fear of moral corruption. I however couldn’t muster the outrage, besides half-heartedly musing on a Cyrus family subterfuge; it’s all so banal. So banal I’ve just devoted two paragraphs on the subject. So trivial that after a long hiatus I choose this rather than Ed Miliband’s “Neville Chamberlain” moment. What am I thinking?

It’s a crisis of something or other - I‘d say faith only I’m not that way inclined. I have thought on it before, though with more conviction. Science tells me everything, or will, given time; the when, the how, the why; and in doing so it tells me nothing. Science endows and then strips the world of meaning; though I recognise the two are separate - the actual and the spiritual - I speak in a non-religious sense as I haven’t the imagination for much else; the world is what it is and often I’m finding that sad.

I appreciated the bluntness; his explanation that life appears to have no meaning because life has no meaning; and what do you do, asked Camus, once you’ve discovered this ‘truth’? There is no fate that cannot be surmounted by scorn, he says, and that appeals too. But enough of the self-flagellation; to deny the world a meaning is not (this atheist prays) to deny myself an internal meaning, and that can be as I choose. Kindness, compassion and companionship; and pain - it would be false to deny the pain of those I have (and those I will) hurt, though I might wish otherwise; and not forgetting love, to deny love would be the greatest sin of all. God help us if science finds a reason for that.