KEV67

It is still not sinking in very fast, considering I try to do a bit every day. One problem is that the spelling is not very standard. Words were pronounced and thus spelt differently in different regions and times. Another problem is that all the vowels have shifted since Anglo-Saxon times. I am never sure I am pronouncing a word correctly.

Got to the Argyle Community Church, which is an independent evangelical church. It was well attended. There were a lot of Chinese in the congregation. Most the children were Chinese. The service reminded me of the Baptist services. There was no organ; instead there was a band comprising singer/guitarist, bass player, pianist and drummer. I did not need to bring my glasses because everything was projected on a screen. The hymns were modern, but the band were quite good. I was impressed by the charismatic singer/guitarist. Two members from a Christian charity Reach explained to us what they do, which is basically teach Christianity in schools. They showed some stats. I think one statistic was that only 4% of British children are brought up as Christians these days. I am not sure about that stat. Maybe that means only 4% of children go to a church. Then the children were led out and a tall man got up to deliver a sermon, which he did by taking prompts from his phone. I think his phone app was projected to the screen, because sometime he interacted with it. I struggle to remember what it was about. There was a long lapse photograph of the North Star with the tracks of other stars circling around it. Although I cannot remember what the sermon was about, at least I got the impression these people believed in it, which I did not get with the Quakers. In the afternoon I went to the monthly Unitarian meeting. There were about ten of us, including an old lady who looked very frail. The average age of Unitarians must be about 70. The preacher, named Peter, who is in his 80s, told a story from a book about a tramp in Antrim. This tramp had had stones thrown at him for looking at a cow funny. I think it might have been some superstitious thing. The mother of the boy who later wrote the incident down cleaned the tramp's injuries, gave him something to eat and drink, and let him sleep in the pigsty. The next morning the entire community, including the toughs, came around and shook his hand and wished him well. The boy's mother had spread the story he was an itinerant beggar on the quest for the Holy Grail, but was recording everything that happened to him. That was quite entertaining. Then we had to discuss a list of values someone had suggested be associated with the church. Personally I was a bit concerned about this, because I do not want to sign myself to a church of wokery, especially since they have no fixed creed or theology. However, most the values listed were such that it was difficult to object to them. They were quite gentle values. Going to the church for bigots a bit later. I already walked past the vicar this afternoon, and I told him I'd be there, so I can't back out, although it is thundering and lightning right now... The rainstorm gave the vicar something to ask me about. The sermon started off about Job and his friends. I have heard of Job's Comforters but I am not sure what is meant by that. Then the sermon meandered rather, as it often does. To be fair, writing a half-hour sermon takes a lot of effort I imagine. I once prepared a lecture on heat transfer, which is quite a large subject, and still ran out of material. I often wondered why the clergy considered it important to go to university in the 19th Century to learn Latin and Greek. I think it was practice in writing long essays from ancient texts on some subject. A slightly embarrassing thing happened. I switched my phone off because I was worried someone would call me, but instead I only rebooted it, so it said "Hello Moto" in. Korean accent.

It has been several weeks since Martin Amis died. I read three of his books: Money, London Fields and Lionel Asbo. Of the three I liked Lionel Asbo the most. It was black humour but hilarious. It really stuck the boot into the celebrity culture of the time. I liked London Fields. I did not like Money so much, which is often reckoned his best book. I have read two books by his old man, Kingsley too: Lucky Jim and The Old Devils. Lucky Jim is a comedy campus novel. The Old Devils won the Booker Prize ahead of The Handmaid's Tale. It is about these retired Welsh geezers. A professional, celebrity Welshman returns to his hometown with his missus. On telly he portrays himself as an expert on Dylan Thomas while pushing out some Michael Palinesque persona. In reality he is a bit of a shhhhhhh. It was a good book, different to anything else I have read. I am contemplating reading another book from both them authors.

A couple of things puzzle me about the story. The king's thegn says that Christianity is worth believing if it explains what happens before you are born and after you die. Christianity only really says what happens after you die (and then not very consistently). Buddhism would be better if you wanted to know what happened before you were born, but I do not suppose there were many Buddhist missionaries in Britain at the timbe. Another thing that puzzles me is I thought the Saxons would have had some concept of an afterlife. Four days of the week are named after Norse Gods, so I would have thought Saxon belief would be somewhat similar. The Norse believe that if you died in battle you would be taken to either Valhalla, or another hall almost as good owned by one of the goddesses, but I cannot remember which. If you did not die in battle you want to Hel, which was a cold, dreary place, overseen by another goddess, who was probably a feminist. Then at the end of the era the Battle of Ragnarok would happen and nearly everyone would die again, this time for keeps. I suppose one problem with that religion was that there was a big incentive to be warlike, and maybe the Saxons were not into that so much.

I have been reading this for a while. It was one of my father's books. I was familiar with the story. The film from the 70s or 80s with Michael York was jolly good. It was either that film or The Four Musketeers in which Roy Kinnear died. I think he fell off a horse or something. I have read The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas. That was jolly good. So is this. It is a lot about friendship. Milady is a great villainess. Cardinal Richelieu is a great villain. Politically, it is rather good. I was surprised to learn d'Artagnan was a real person, although heavily fictionalised in this, no doubt.

I intended to go the the Argyle Community Church this morning, which is an independent church, but it did not happen. I made it to the evening service at St Mary's Church. One of the hymns seemed a bit like a folk song to me. I tried to sing it as such. I had trouble working out which key to sing the last hymn; not that I ever know which key I am singing in. If someone asked me to sing an 'A', I would have no idea. I started the first verse low, which got very low; so I started the next verse higher, which was still not very satisfactory, so I tried the last verse in a different key. In his sermon, the vicar said the last king of southern Israel's sons were taken away to serve as eunuchs in the King of Babylon's palace. This was very depressing for the Jewish people, because it seemed to break a promise made by God. Elsewhere he said evolution contradicted Genesis, and later, that God existed outside time, and that according to physics, starlight is coming from stars that may no longer exist, but that the moon keeps waxing and waning, and the seasons keep passing. On leaving he asked me whether I was enjoying the sunny weather. I said the midges kept biting me. He said that if you eat the right foods then the midges do not bite so much, but could not remember which foods they were, although he thought sugar was probably bad.

In the second-to-last chapter the survivors have to leap across a chasm. The gap was 11 to 12 foot across. 12' is 3.6m. That did not seem all that far, so I thought I would have a go. I tried about five times and I don't think I got within a yard. That is pretty pathetic. I am a 55-year-old with a dodgy knee and no great long jumping technique. However Horatio Holly was about 45, and they were jumping from an unstable rock in poor light and strong, swirling winds. So fair play to them.

Yes, I think so. There is no priest, sermon or hymns. People sit in silence and every now and again someone gets up and says something.

Went to St Mary's on Castle Street in the evening. Only about four in the actual congregation plus the vicar, vicar's wife and organist. The hymns were more than unusually unsingable. I tried to concentrate on the sermon. The vicar mentioned Jonah and the whale, and Jacob wrestling with the angel. The main takeaway was that the afflicted were blessed if it brought them to prayer. Me and the vicar find it difficult to find things to say to eachother. After the service the vicar goes to the exit and speaks to all the congregation as they leave. He asked me if I had a good week and whether I went anywhere for work. I told him I went to Bristol and I hoped to go to Penzance soon. That is not strictly true, but I thought Penzance sounded more exotic than Plymouth.

I went to a Quaker meeting this morning. I went into a room with a table in the middle. They were two or three rings of chairs around the table. People just sat in them in silence. After about 20 minutes an old bloke with mobility problems got up. He said he had met a woman at his sheltered accommodation, who had agreed to marry him. Then he told us how he used to be a coke-fiend, but gave it up with the help of the organisation Frank. He said he was an alcoholic, but gave that up too. He was addicted to gambling, which took longer to kick. He had three properties and a business employing a number of people; that all went. With the help of a friend and another self-help group he gave up gambling. A bit later a woman got up to say that although she did not believe much in God, Quakers should be respectful of those who do (What?). Then another woman, who was watching by Zoom, said when quizzed by her grandchildren on whether she believed in God, would ask them what were their terms of reference, and that her conception of God would be different to anyone else's at the meeting. Then another woman got up and said she was reminded of the mothers of the disappeared in Argentina, who were betrayed by the Catholic priests who reported the mothers to the authorities. The mothers started meeting in private and concluded that God was the love and support they gave each other. This was not one after another; there would be a gap of ten fifteen minutes. Afterwards I had a cup of coffee with Magda, Izzy, and another woman whose name I have forgotten. They seem a pretty brainy bunch. At least two of them were involved with the university. I met one of the other parishioners of St Mary's Church of England (Continuing) at the Hop Leaf. It seems he is the pub historian my friend told me about.

I watched the first half of the film. They updated it to just after the Second World War. It had Peter Cushing as Holly, and Bernard Cribbens as Job. I always like Peter Cushing, although physically he is not as described in the book. I did not imagine Job as being like Bernard Cribbens. I cannot remember seeing the actor who played Leo before. I have only three more chapters to go. It is a weird book, almost like science fiction, with a strong Indiana Jones vibe. There's a nude scene in the book when Ayesha steps into the stream of life. A pity the film was made in 65 not 75.

I found this passage from Bede's Account of the Conversion of King Edwin. Apparently Bede wrote it in Latin and someone later translated it into the English of the time, but not very well. I cannot judge. I will have to go over it again because I have forgotten some of the words. King Edwin told Bishop Paulinus that he would have to discuss the conversion of his people to Christianity with his witan. One of the witan says life is like a sparrow that flies into a lighted hall where a feast is taking place and then out the other door into the winter. þæs wordum oþur cyninges wita and ealdormann geþafunge sealde, an to þære spræce feng and þus cwæð: 'þyslic me is gesewen, þu cyning, þis andwearde lif manna on eorðan to wiðmetenesse þære tide þe us uncuð is: swylc swa þu æt swæsendum sitte mid þinum ealdormannum and þegnum on wintertide, and sie fyr onælæd and þin heall gewyrmed, and hit rine and sniwe and styrme ute; cume an spearwa and hrædlice þæt hus þurhfleo. cume þurh oþre duru in, þurh oþre ut gewite. Hwæt, he on þa tid þe he inne bið ne bið hrinen mid þy storme þæs wintres; ac þæt bið an eagan bryhtm and þæt læsste fæc, ac he sona of wintra on þone winter eft cymeð. Swa þonne þis monna lif to medmiclum fæce ætwð; hwæt þær foregange, oððe hwæt þær æfterfylige, we ne cunnun. For ðon gif þeos niwe lar owiht cuðlicre ond gerisenlicre brenge, þæs weorþe is þæt we þære fylgen.' This seems like quite a stiff translation to me from a Loeb book: To whose wise persuasion and words another of the king’s nobles consenting forthwith added: “Such seemeth to me, my Lord, the present life of men here in earth (for the comparison of our uncertain time to live), as if a sparrow should come to the house and very swiftly flit through; which entereth in at one window and straightaway passeth out through another, while you sit at dinner with your captains and servants. In winter-time; the parlour being then made warm with the fire kindled in the midst thereof, but all places abroad being troubled with raging tempests of winter rain and snow. Right for the time it be within the house, it feeleth no smart of the winter storm, but after a very short space of fair weather that lasteth but for a moment, it soon passeth again from winter to winter and escapeth your sight. So the life of man here appeareth for a little season, but what followeth or what hath gone before, that surely know we not. Wherefore if this new learning hath brought us any better surety, methink it worthy to be followed. This is how the Venerable Bede wrote it: Cuius suasioni verbisque prudentibus alius optimatum regis tribuens assensum, continuo subdidit: “Talis,” inquiens, “mihi videtur, rex, vita hominum prasens in terris, ad comparationem eius quod nobis incertum est temporis, quale cum te residente ad coenam ducibus ac ministris tuis tempore brumali, accenso quidem foco in medio et calido effecto coenaculo, furentibus autem foris per omnibus turbinibus hiemalium pluviarum vel nivium, adveniensque unus passerum dumum citissime pervolaverit qui eum per unum ostium ingrediens, mox per aliud exierit. Ipso quidem tempore quo intus est, hiemis tempestate non tangitur, sed tamen parvissimo spatio serenitatis ad momentum excurso, mox de hieme in hiemem regrediens, tuis oculis elabitur. Ita haec vita hominum ad modicum apparet; quid autem sequatur, quidve praecesserit, prorsus ignoramus. Unde si haec nova doctrina certius aliquid attulit, merito esse sequenda videtur.”

I might try to watch that film, but I still cannot imagine Ursula Andress being as good as Diana Rigg would have been. Maybe Maria Callas could have played the part. I know she was an opera singer, but she acted Medea in the film by Pier Paolo Pasolini. She had the striking looks and the intensity. I have read King Solomon's Mines before. She is different to that. Ayesha philosophises at length. Some of her philosophy seems similar to that of Thomas Hobbes' and Thomas Malthus's. Maybe her views were affected by Charles Darwin's theories too. There was not much philosophising in King Solomon's Mines. That book reminded me of Raiders of the Lost Ark and Tarzan, especially the 1930s films with Johnny Weisemuller. She does as well to be fair. In Tarzan some explorers would travel deep into Africa and discover a lost civilisation of white people, often with a beautiful queen. Meanwhile, all the poor pallbearers would be despatched in merciless and inventive ways; that is if they had not fallen into some ravine on the way. In early chapters of She, I worried about the safety of their Arab companion. I am somewhat concerned about the fate of Job, their English servant, but not as worried as I was about the Arab.

I have read it in Latin, but not Greek. I think I ordered it off Amazon. Do you need it in the Ancient Greek or modern variety?

She (1965) IMDb Parents' Guide Sex & Nudity None 9 of 13 found this to have none Some belly dancing girls wearing pasties Well it was filmed in 1965.

I will have to look that film up.

I wonder whether this is the book the term 'shell like ear' came from. I used to know someone who used this term, or more accurately, 'A word in your shell like ear', when talking to another rather late middle-aged man with large lugs. Like other cliches I had never given it any thought. I suppose a beautiful, young woman's ear might resemble a sea shell. Aleysha (I think that's her name) has some long speeches. I thought that would be a difficult part to act. I could imagine a young Diana Rigg delivering them.

I did not want to go to church today, but I did go the Unitarian meeting in the afternoon. Only three of us were there. The secretary, her father who is a preacher, and myself. The secretary reported back on an annual general meeting she had been to. I am slightly concerned about the common set of values they are drawing up. They may have no fixed theology, but their social values are universally woke. I missed the meeting last month hoping to avoid this discussion, but it looks like the discussion might happen next month when more people are back.

I'd have thought there would be books about Waterloo or puppets on strings.

I posted this in Classics because it is Victorian, but it might be science-fiction, fantasy or thriller. It is a bit weird. Three Englishmen follow a river into northern Africa somewhere on account of some centuries old family heirloom. After some fighting and killing they meet a beautiful queen who has been alive for millennia. I am about half way through. It is the book where the phrase "She who must be obeyed" comes from. I dare say a sensitivity reader would have a fit if it arrived on their desk.

Went to St Mary's in Castle Street today. The vicar made a distinction between social justice and real justice, and he had a go at the Catholics. Otherwise I cannot remember much about the sermon. Afterwards we had lunch to celebrate the coronation so I met some of the other members of the congregation. This included an elderly West Indian couple called Earl and Gwen, who cooked the dinner. I was sat next to John, who used to work with cruise liners, sales and marketing I think. On the other side I was sat next to Giles. He was a farmer, believe it or not. I told him my Irish granny used to have a cattle farm. He said most the milk produced in Ireland goes into milk powder, which is an ingredient in a lot of processed foods. He said nearly all of Ireland's fresh milk comes from England. That did surprise me. He said Ireland's population was 3 million people so it was more economic to import the milk from England. He said there was a milk distribution in Reading that serves 12 million people. I was slightly surprised that he and his wife travelled to the church from near Wallingford, as that is 10-15 miles out into the countryside.

I have read Fahrenheit 451. I think it is dated. I do not think it is as good as 1984.

The other great dystopian book that really impressed me was Brave New World by Aldous Huxley.

It was a great book, but I thought the film was even better.

I started to read this book when I was sixteen, but I put it down about three-quarters of the way through, because I could not see how Winston Smith could win, or escape and join the counter revolution. Should have read Fahrenheit 451 instead. After reading most of Orwell's other novels, non-fiction and essays, I started reading 1984 again. I thought it was genius.