Removing Church appointees from Education Committees; more good news – http://wp.me/p21T1L-16p
Not, as you might think, the state of premises, but the occupation of the Parish Clerk of Cannock in Staffordshire as recorded in the 1891 census.
William Devey’s full occupation was recorded as, Parish Clerk, Stationer, Bookseller and Bank Officer unoccupied at night”.
Mind you, he was probably responsible for the local census so could get away with that.
It’s Easter Sunday, and I’ve been bugged over the last week at the aftermath of the fire at Notre Dame de Paris. The fire itself was a cultural tragedy and struck deep to the hearts of Parisians and the French people, whether of the Catholic faith or none. It engaged the sympathy of people from across the western world and all of those who’ve ever visited Paris or the cathedral itself, as I myself have done.
There has, in consequence, been a outpouring of generosity from very wealthy people, as well as the ordinary folk of the country, to fund the restoration and repair of the building. And that’s a great thing. And the French state are even offering tax breaks to donors, which seems fair, given that the state owns the building. I’m happy to be corrected, but I’m not aware that the Vatican has offered anything other than “thoughts and prayers”, although it has grown obscenely wealthy over the millenia on the offerings of the credulous faithful.
Gerard Manley Hopkins’ Easter sums these things up well:
Break the box and shed the nard;
Stop not now to count the cost;
Hither bring pearl, opal, sard;
Reck not what the poor have lost;
Upon Christ throw all away;
Know ye, this is Easter Day.
Build His church and deck his shrine;
Empty though it be on earth …
Who has pearls and opals to bring? Only the rich, who can give from their surplus to endow chapels, priests and masses to save their souls and still keep enough to live in comfort – it’s the only way to take it with you. But from whence cometh their wealth?
This is the hypocrisy of the 21st century ultra-rich; their wealth is built on screwing the worker and conning the consumer. Our low-friction consumer society comes at a cost to those who have no choice but to shoulder that friction on our behalf – delivering take-aways in all weathers because we can “just” order a delivery on our phones instead of shifting our backsides and going to the curry house – working away in fire-trap sweatshops in east Asia simply so we can buy clothes to wear twice and throw away because they are so cheap – people being used to pick Amazon orders because they are cheaper than automation and easier to replace. And in all of those cases, our convenience and bargain prices become the source of exploitation for those who shoulder our trivial burdens on their own shoulders; for those who have no other choice than to take a zero-hours contract, to sign a contract which makes them responsible for covering their own sickness absence, and all the other sins miseries and abominations of the tap-and-go economy by which we widen the wealth gap and entrench people in poverty and hopelessness.
Remember that Jesus too, according to the story, was blind to these things. He praised the widow who gave from her desperate need, rather than condemning a religious system that put more emphasis on looking after the needs of the pampered priesthood than putting food in the mouths of the poor. Those silks and satins won’t buy themselves.
Religion asks the rich to give from their surplus for one reward, and tells the poor to give from their want for another, and pretends it’s all the same. It damn well is not.
Tinkerbell enjoying the late summer sunshine.
We’re a week after midsummer, and although sunrise is now as late as 0439 today and sunset as early as 2212, it’s still light enough to see your way after midnight in the gloaming. Argyll is not that far north, and we don’t have the simmer glim that Shetlanders do, but this is a time of year when my sleep patterns are very different from the rest.
For about three or four weeks either side of midsummer, I’ve learned not to expect much more than about four or five hours of sleep a night, much less than my customary seven or eight. Even with the curtains closed, I still go to bed later and awake earlier than at other times of the year. The interesting thing is that I don’t feel deprived of sleep, although I might just take a wee nap at my desk for ten minutes in the middle of the day – much to the amusement of my colleagues. I’m thinking of having a hammock installed in the storeroom …
We had a mini tour of Scandinavia last week. These people were watching us in the Maritime Museum at Elsinor.
The narrow spine of Rubha na Cille, the headland of the hermit’s cell, near Tayvallich is characterised by these stacks and pillars of rock, giving the land an almost unearthly feel. This manipulation is deliberately low-toned to emphasise the strangeness of walking through the landscape.