King David pretended to be mad to escape the clutches of King Saul, taking refuge with the King of Gath and we are told that saliva dripped down his beard. Which is ironic really, since David, as a beardless youth, ‘made his bones’ by well-aimed missiles at another gargantuan Gathite, probably spectacularly bearded. Perhaps he used the beard as a line of sight. Unlike Cain, who was ‘an hairy man’, his brother Abel was a ‘smooth man’ whom as a child I always imagined to be superior – the languid, aristocratic type casting the odd glance at the sheep – over the agricultural, barbate peasant, grunting with effort to wring crops from the earth. Which brings me nicely to today’s offering. It’s ironic that I find myself with something discreetly silver and well-trimmed, almost accidental stubble.
Facial hair creates its own demographic. If I can be persuaded that constantly fingering the thinly forested areas makes me look juvenile, I might keep it for a while. If it looks like a fungoid growth as a result of dripping saliva or food remnants, I might not. If it ever grows to Rasputinesque proportions, I’ll join a monastery, where I can fiddle with it to my heart’s content.
Richard Dawkins’ new book is out, presumably in celebration of which he gave an interview with David Frost on ‘Frost Over the World’ today(Jazeera TV, 12/9/2009). The Frosticle, whose intellect is less well honed than it once was, asked a few banal and unimaginative questions to which the guru of humanism made polite, but uninspiring replies, interspersed with his characteristically self-deprecating grin which he uses in the presence of morons. There are a few little nuggets of flammable material in ‘The Greatest Show On Earth’, however. This from the first chapter.
‘’Imagine you are a teacher of more recent history, and your lessons on 20th-century Europe are boycotted, heckled or otherwise disrupted by well-organised, well-financed and politically muscular groups of Holocaust-deniers [who] really exist. They are vocal, superficially plausible and adept at seeming learned. They are supported by the president of at least one currently powerful state, and they include at least one bishop of the Roman Catholic Church. Imagine that, as a teacher of European history, you are continually faced with belligerent demands to “teach the controversy”, and to give “equal time” to the “alternative theory” that the Holocaust never happened but was invented by a bunch of Zionist fabricators.’’
While most scientists (90% of the Royal Society) are not religious and thus have no ethical problem with evolution as best-match hypotheses for the way things are, Dawkins’ sinister comparisons between Holocaust-deniers and Evolution-deniers is sickeningly pernicious, underhandedly anti-intellectual and will bite back in the future. Hopefully quite hard.
The image carries no significance. It’s just weird, a paradigm of my own thoughts. Live with it
I read this from a Vedic site the other day, on the Sathyavathi mode of worship.
‘Once upon a time in Cremona, there lived a person by name Antonio. He used to earn his livelihood by making violins, but being a perfectionist as he was, he used to take one full year to make a violin. His friends chided him, saying, “O mad man, how do you expect to eke out your livelihood if you spend a whole year to make one violin? Antonio replied, “God is the embodiment of perfection. Whatever He does is absolutely perfect. He will be pleased only when we discharge our duty in the most perfect manner. All my work will be an utter waste, if God is not satisfied!’
I sometimes feel that I am a victim of my own perfectionism – the desire to do whatever I do well. Playing in church the other day, I was struck- not so much by the satisfying resonance of my guitar, which after a little work and new Elixir strings sounded quite beautiful in the confined alcove where I was playing – but by the mistakes I was making through lack of skill and practice. The perfectionist hears the voice of God, and in his effort to reach upward, like the archer, misses the mark, and as such, he is inevitably flawed. And yet, in spite of this, something of glory, the sea of glass, the fragrance of the air of Zion found its way to me.
Paid a visit yesterday to the newest temple to Mammon, the ‘360 Mall’. It’s a cathedral, consecrated to the overfed saint of expensive, not necessarily good, taste, available to all, as long as the pilgrims have enough money to pay the tribute. Or, it will be when it’s finished. After gawping at the architecture for a while, I found myself asking whether lifestyle consumerism counterfeits Christian spirituality. If I am allowed, to use a ‘Christian’ syntax, it ‘evangelises and makes disciples’. It offers flawed worship, false hope and incomplete assurance since advertising strategies link products with our personal desires and values. So when people feel something is missing, rather than look to God, they go shopping, which can be seductive, cyclic, addictive and ultimately impoverishing. Further, consumerist thinking causes us to have a smorgasbord mentality about the churches we attend and a pick and mix attitude to the doctrines we find there.
I think that a deocentric spirituality has inherent dissatisfaction, the inner voice whispering “There must be more”. Consumerism mimics the restlessness of our pilgrimage, keeping us permanently dissatisfied. Furthermore, there’s no place for the poor. It used to be said that the fruits of a society were seen in how it treated its poor. Postmodern society structures itself around consumers, so the poor can’t compete, they have no function; they are useless in a consumer world.
Perhaps the only way that consumerism can be effectively countered is by developing an alternative world view together with an alternative lifestyle, which might actually shape our character. We are taught as believers that we have the resources to engage with a consumerist mindset and outclass it. The crucial issue, perhaps, is discipleship, which requires teachability, corporate identity and sacramental grace.
I don’t think I’ve quite arrived as Paul did when writing to the Philippians “I have learned, in whatever state I am, to be content”, but I know myself to travel more lightly than I once did. It might be instructive if my comparatively few worldly possessions were taken from me, or worse, I had to make do with products of inferior quality, bought from the 100 fils shop rather than from Dolce & Gabbana. H’m.
‘Inglourious Basterds’, which is narcissistic, plagiarised, suety, historically and morally questionable, the Japanese director Koji Shirashi’s film ‘Grotesque’ has been denied a certificate by the British Board of Film Censors. The board said the film was concerned with the assault, humiliation and torture of two victims; themes included imprisonment, restraint, and sexual assault and the main characters receive horrific injuries until they die. It features minimal narrative or character development and presents the audience with little more than an unrelenting and escalating scenario of humiliation, brutality and sadism. The chief pleasure on offer seems to be in the spectacle of sadism for its own sake and for this alone, the BBFC is to be applauded.
Our curious predisposition to explore the caverns of our minds where the monsters dwell isn’t, of course, new. ‘120 Days of Sodom’ is an unrelenting and ultimately sickening parade of degradation, child molestation and torture, written by a depraved sociopath with a grudge against the Church. In former times he would have been labelled as ‘possessed’. I wonder if the same can be said of two pre-teen brothers who recently inflicted seemingly motiveless and savage violence on two even younger boys in Yorkshire. Authorities had had ‘extensive contact’ with the boys over several years.
It might be instructive for a clinical psychologist with plenty of time and a strong stomach to investigate these boys’ exposure to material that most humane members of society would throw up at.
The linkage seems so obvious. Exposure to the dark side has consequences for impressionable, perhaps weak personalities who have not enjoyed the benefits of competent, firm leadership during their earliest formative years. I fear that it is too late for them now.