SONG TO END THE WEEKEND ON : NOW IS THE HOUR

This weekend’s song is Gracie Fields again, singing ‘Now Is The Hour’, from 1947. A beautiful, wistful song, it’s almost a disappointment to learn it wasn’t traditional Maori and in fact didn’t exist prior to 1913. It was written by Clement Scott, Maewa Kaihau & Dorothy Stewart, then taken and, after a slight alteration words were added to become Po Atarau and the song used as a farewell song sung to Maoris on their way to the Great War in 1915. Another alteration and English words in 1927 saw it becoming at first ‘This is the hour’ and then ‘Now is the hour’. Gracie was taken by the tune and learned it on a car journey in New Zealand and then later recorded it.

Sad and beautiful.
As always,
Enjoy and,
A good week,
Whether you soon will be sailing far across the sea or not.

Published in:  on 29 November, 2009 at 11:38 pm Comments Off

ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY

One hundred and fifty years ago today, 24th November 1859, Charles Darwin’s ‘On The Origin of Species’ was published, which opened the door on how we learn about how life came to be as it is today.
Of course, we’ve come on a lot since Mr Darwin noticed that birds beaks were different according to on which island they lived, which got him exploring, but you can’t beat reading the book for yourself, and imagine what revelations lay in store him.
Go on, then. Get reading. . .

Published in:  on 24 November, 2009 at 11:06 pm Comments Off

JUST IN CASE-CLUMSY BUGGER ALERT

In case you’ve been wondering why I’ve not been adding to this wreck of a blog recently, well, I fell down the sodden stairs and landed with my legs shot out in front of me and my coccyx hard on the step and it’s knocked all the strength and energy and fight out of me. I’m still a bit in pain but I feel up to writing again.
By the way, the coccyx is undeniable proof we evolved from a creature with a tail.
Oh yes, I might have a job. (if I didn’t keep tumbling down the stairs). I’ve got to go for an interview and if all goes well, it’s mine.

Published in:  on 23 November, 2009 at 11:47 pm Comments Off

QUOTES FROM ONE WOMAN

My Mother, a proud atheist, has a lot to say about theism in general;

On Jesus : Jesus is made up, a story character, like Robin Hood, King Arthur and Ali Baba.

On Christian morality : If god is a loving god then why did he let six million Jews die in the Holocaust? The adults might have sinned, but what crime did tiny babies and toddlers commit? What did he achieve by the massacres in Darfur and Bosnia?

On Christmas : I think we’ll all go round to god’s this Christmas. So long as we can get water we won’t be short of wine and the food will be provided so long as you don’t mind loaves and fishes.

On god’s right hand : I’m waiting for Cliff (Richard) to turn up in heaven, and god will say to Jesus, ‘You’ll have to shift from my right hand cause Cliff’s here’.

On the Christian doctrine of free will : Say I’m walking down the street someone jumps out on me and mugs me? Does the mugger’s free will, his right to mug me, matter more than mine not to be mugged, because he’s stronger than I am? Does might make right in god’s eyes?

When challenged about if there is no god how can you tell the difference between right and wrong : Because if a group of people murdered one another and mugged one another and raped children freely, that society would not survive. That’s where laws come from, what’s good for society, and the people who invented god and the bible wrote them in their book.

When told she would go to hell for her ideas : Look, heaven’s all right if you don’t mind doing what you’re told and standing to attention and serving the almighty dictator forever. Hell is the place for rebels and freethinkers, those who have their own ideas on life. I’d much rather by free to live how I wanted than live in an endless dictatorship.

On Satan, god and Armageddon : Of course the Bible would say god wins, it’s propaganda for god, isn’t it? The battle hasn’t been fought yet. How you do you that the devil won’t win?

On spiritualism : All right then, you say that we live on after death. If my Mum or someone comes back and tells me, then I’ll believe.

On Creationism : If we aren’t descended from ape like animals how come we’ve got a coccyx (tail) at the bottom of our backbone?

On religion in general : I’ve studied and examined in every religion and they’re all baloney.

My Mother is not an educated woman. She is a Mother, a housewife, now a widow, and she never studied theology or philosophy or anything, but just using her common sense she has answered many of the age-old arguments for theism and the reality of god. It was thanks to her influence in the background that I came through my Christian period and was hauled back into sanity and reality.

Published in:  on 13 November, 2009 at 10:24 pm Comments Off

SO WHICH IS IT?

Biblegod set it up so that everyone who doesn’t believe the truth will go to hell, burn for all eternity for not repenting, accepting Jesus into their lives and telling others of Jesus. We are all born with the disease of sin, and only Jesus is the cure.
Simple, eh?
So how come there are so many different Christian denominations, from the sensory rich Roman Catholics to the simple and bare corps of the Salvation Army, all believing that their way is the way to Biblegod, and everyone else has got it wrong?
I mean, our salvation depends on getting it right. If we don’t believe the right way, we are going to go to hell. So why has the simple word of Biblegod turned into more than thirty eight thousand different roads to heaven?
You might get adherents of one of these denominations saying that every true Christian believes the truth, and Biblegod knows, but why cause such diversity? Why make it so hard to find the narrow road this side of death?
Anybody would think he didn’t want anyone to go to heaven.
Or maybe the Bible is of man and therefore it doesn’t matter how you interpret it?

Published in:  on 12 November, 2009 at 10:34 pm Comments Off

THOUGHTS ON 11th NOVEMBER

Poppy in memorial

In Flanders fields, the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below…

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields…

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands, we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields…

Written in 1915 by the Canadian Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, allegedly the inspiration for the wearing of poppies as a tribute to the dead of the Great War and subsequent wars.
And men today are still falling ninety years and three thousand miles away from Flanders, and where the poppies still blow.

Published in:  on 11 November, 2009 at 10:56 pm Comments Off

SONG TO END THE WEEKEND ON : DUCLE ET DECORUM EST

For this Remembrance Sunday I am breaking with tradition and instead of a song, it’s a poem. ‘Dulce Et Decorum Est’, by Great War poet Wilfred Owen, who was killed on the forth of November 1918, just a week before the Armistice, at the age of twenty five.
Here he is, reading it himself, thanks to the clever animation of Jim Clark, from his poetry animations YouTube channel.

Like all Owen’s poetry, it tells of the brutal stupidity of war. Dulce Et Decorum Est is part of what Owen calls ‘the old lie’, dulce et decorum est pro patria mori, from Roman poet Horace’s Odes, and can be translated ‘It is sweet and fitting to die for one’s country’.
As always,
Enjoy and,
A good week,
Whether you honestly believe the war in Afghanistan is actually achieving anything, except bloody mass murder, or not.

Published in:  on 8 November, 2009 at 11:06 pm Comments Off

A LETTER FROM A SERIAL KILLER

Dear Madam,
Thank you for your letter dated the 4th November. As you can imagine I receive hundreds of letters per week, the number of which has gone up ever since the book about me was published. The majority of these letters come in two categories. Either they show their love of humanity by describing exactly what should be done to me, including, but not limited to, hanging, electrocution and being tied naked to a metal bed frame and candles lit under me until I stop moving. The other category comes from people who are more than sympathetic as to my reasons for what I did, and are only too willing to dump their husbands and families and come and enjoy all manner of sexual congress with me. (I consider myself a man of the world, but some of the thing they want to do to me I’ve never come across in my long and varied career). Because of the subject matter of these missives, I find it more prudent to ignore the vast majority of correspondence to my cell.
But you letter has struck a chord in me. I sense a soul that is sympathetic without being overbearing, and your reasoning as to what is the best way to prevent people like me ending up where I am makes a great deal of sense. This is one reason why I chose to respond by putting pen to paper and writing back to you.
I say one reason, as the aforementioned reason is not the main reason why I am willing to correspond with you.
What you must understand is that my freedom is, inevitably, very limited. Due to the nature of my crimes I am unable to mix with the general population, out of fear of what may happen if I come across someone else who is not able to defend themselves. Most of the time, I enjoy repose in my ten by eight foot cell which will be my home for, if the Home Secretary has their way, the rest of my natural life. The only time I leave my current accommodation is for my daily shower and then two officers escort me there and back. I only see the outside once every day for an hour, under a caged roof, flanked by four officers. So, it is with the utmost regret that I return the list you enclosed with the understanding it is lack of opportunity and not lack of enthusiasm that stops me from fulfilling your request.

Published in:  on at 9:49 pm Comments Off

UNCOMFORTABLE TRUTHS IN OLD SONGS

You’d be so nice to come home to,
You’d be so nice by the fire,
While the breeze on high sang a lullaby,
You’d be all that I could desire,
Under stars chilled by the Winter,
Under an August moon burning above,
You’d be so nice,
You’d be paradise,
To come home to and love.

Ladies and gentleman, we have a perfect example of necrophilia in this song. Read it! Read how the object of desire doesn’t do anything, except ‘be so nice. . .by the fire. . .so nice. . .to come home to and love’.
Necrophilia!

Published in:  on 4 November, 2009 at 10:49 pm Comments Off

SONG TO END THE WEEKEND ON : CHORUS OF THE HEBREW SLAVES

This weekend’s song is a true classic. ‘The Chorus of The Hebrew Slaves’, from the 1842 opera Nabucco (Nebuchadnezzar) written by Giuseppe Verdi with lyrics by Temistocle Solera. The opera told the story of the Hebrews being overpowered and taken into servitude by the Babylonians, and the song itself is inspired by the 137th Psalm.

Listen for the sections starting at 1:06 and 3:57. It was my Dad’s favourite and he was always whistling it. I’m flooded with a teary sweet sorrow as I remember.
So,
As always,
Enjoy, and
A good week whether you speak of times gone by or not.

Published in:  on 1 November, 2009 at 11:48 pm Comments Off