Jerusalem Lost

So, according to this morning's BBC Breakfast News (thankfully without smarmy Bill Turnbull, scourge of news presenting), there are plans afoot within the church to ban the singing of the hymn, "Jerusalem" by William Blake. They are doing so on the grounds that it isn't really a hymn because it does not praise God enough and because, in reality, it is merely a poem meant as a social comment at the time of writing, set to music. They also do not seem to like it because it is nationalistic.

Are they mad!? I must admit that I should declare a personal interest here. "Jerusalem" is probably my favourite hymn. Do not get me wrong, I am neither religious nor a regular churchgoer. I am not, however, without belief and nor do I look down upon people who have a faith in any way. I am still seen booted and suited in churches at weddings, christenings and unfortunately too regularly funerals, and, the occasional Christmas carol service. I also like to visit churches and cathedrals when I am out and about on holiday. "Jerusalem" though, was the official hymn of my university college (Queen's Oxford), and, was sung at my wedding (it truly was a beautiful service). When it is truly belted out by people who can hold a tune (which excludes myself for sure) it still sends shivers down my spine and makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It is rousing and emotive.

Not religious enough? Have they not read the lyrics? Firstly there is reference to the possibility of Jesus having visited England in a second coming together with Joseph of Aramethia when they were headlining together at the first Glastonbury Festival. You can read all about it in the Book of Revelation.

Now don't start me on that whole conspiracy theory thing. The one that goes Jesus was not the son of God but a political leader who did not die on the cross; he was married to Mary Magdalene and they had a child; that the whole Grail Mystery thing is actually a corruption of the term Sang Royale meaning "royal blood" and referring to the bloodline of Christ which was protected at the battle of Masada, founded the Merovingian dynastyin France and ultimately is all tied up with the Freemasons, etc, etc. Or something like that. Go read Holy Blood Holy Grail and you'll get my meaning.

But I digress. Even if you read Blake's words as a denial of the second coming it does at least then go on to say that we should build a new Jerusalem in England. Heaven on Earth. That, I would have hoped, was something that the Christian churches in England be they Protestant or Catholic should adhere to and aim for.

And, why would you want to ban one of the few hymns that people seem to enjoy singing? You might as well just sell the pews for firewood right now, lock the doors and give the lead on the roof to a deserving cause. Why does being in church need to be so gloomy and dull? Now, I am not calling for us to get all happy clappy, dancing with snakes, or growing our beards and sitting in circles holding hands and singing "cum by ya my Lord" but at least let the faithful sing something with a bit of emotion, something stirring, a bit of umph.

And what on Earth is wrong with being nationalistic, or should I say, proud of our nation! It isn't saying that we are better than anyone else. There are no references to disliking the Germans or of bombing Iraq. It just says that we should build something better here than what we have. Amen to that! It is the anthem of the Womens' Institute for Heavens sake.

Rant over.......I guess it must have been a "quiet news" day. At least it was on BBC Breakfast.
ps. Free the Birmingham Two! Karen Brady and David Sullivan are innocent (I hope).

The World Has Gone Mad!

I think it is official - the world has gone mad. Any quick scan of the world news will verify this.

Most bizarre of all is the story in the US of a man who is having a baby. Pregnant. With child. A man!?!This is the story of one Thomas Beatie who appeared on the Oprah Winfrey show to tell us (presumably in return for loads of money) the wonderful tale of his "miracle" pregnancy.

Apparently, despite having his/her breasts reduced some 10 years or so ago and having a good dose of testosterone (good enough to provide him/her with a rather unimpressive goatie), Thomas declined the kind of surgery that would have completed his/her transition - such as sowing some bits up and growing some balls. Well, I am no surgeon but you get my drift.

So, it would seem that this is a rather nonsense story as Thomas is still very much a woman, with working womens' bits (like a womb and a vagina). Perhaps a more realistic headline would have been "Bearded Lady!". It is all a bit like a scene from the comedy show, Little Britain.

Almost as unbelievable is the fact that Robert Mugabe seems to think that he can get away with yet another blatant rigging of the presidential elections in Zimbabwe. How does he get away with it? Why does the world let him get away with it? He is an oppressor as bad as any Saddam Hussein, who has ethnically cleansed this once great country (of the old colonial whites) that once fed the continent of Africa, and brought it to its knees. Inflation at over 1000%, the people starving, his opponents beaten up and jailed on a whim, and foreign journalists banned from reporting there. And, the rest of the world seems content to let the 84 year old tyrant get away with it. I guess that means there is no oil to be had there then. I'm not sure they'll be hosting the Olympic Games there in the near future though. So much (again) for Labour's so-called ethical foreign policy.

Meanwhile, back in the so-called civilised world, the great national laughing stock which is Heathrow Airport Terminal 5 continues to roll on a week after its opening. Flights are still being cancelled, bags are still not being delivered. Neither of which goes down well at an airport. One rather amusing twist today, however, was the fact that the once great supermodel Naomi Campbell, upon finding out that two of her bags had been mislaid, threw a hissy-fit, and spat at a police officer before being evicted from her plane and banned by British Airways. I wonder if her mom is proud of her!?

Let's do the world a favour and lock these weirdos away for a while. We could stick them all in the same house and film them for our amusement. We could call it something like Celebrity Big Brother!

Mad! Mad! Mad!

ET Is from Birmingham

According to an article in yesterday’s Times newspaper, Birmingham, my hometown, is officially “the weirdest place in the UK.” and rated the “capital of spooky phenomena”. Apparently showers of frogs, gigantic hailstones, miraculous lightning cures, tornados, and mince pies being dripped by UFOs are almost everyday occurrences in the great second city. Well, pretty frequent (although the only dated examples quoted in the article were 1954 and 1980).

Now readers of my earlier post – the Great Divide – will realise that I am a proud Brummie (although I was actually born in Walsall – the most unhappy town in the country) but I am not exactly surprised.

Presumably the Extra Terrestrials are attracted by the aerial views of “Spaghetti Junction” or “the Boob Tube”, or, just come to gawk at the local fashion – white socks are, unfortunately, still very prevalent with your fashion (un) conscious Midland Man.

The plagues and extreme weather phenomena are probably just God’s way of trying to clean the place up a bit. Well, it worked for the Brindley Wharf area (Gas Street Basin as was). Weird it may be, but not as weird as where mu mother-in-law lives. My mother-in-law lives in Royston Vasey.

I Blame Jeremy Kyle

I Blame Jeremy Kyle

Did you see “Pramface Babies” on Channel 4 last night? I was forced to miss Ashes To Ashes for this wonderful piece of ….well, it was hardly the epitome of investigative journalism or of drama-documentary; it was hardly the new “Cathy Come Home”.

“Pramface” is a derogatory term used to refer to underage or young mothers on council estates. See the Urban Dictionary for some more “colourful” explanations. I have seen many a Pramface mom in my time in the Civic Centre of Shameless (see earlier postings). They are hardly inspiring role models for their children. Body-pierced, bleached, tattooed, blue veined, teenage girls pushing and dragging multi-coloured and multi-parented (“parented” is a bit of a misnomer of course – I mean that the children have different sires). They are uneducated, out of work, and foul mouthed. The fathers are, well, elsewhere.

I read one article about the programme referring to the girls as being from a “working class” background. No they are not! “Working class” refers to a class that works. As my wise and wonderful better half, C, informed me, you are working class if your parent (for it could be either or both of mom and dad) came home from work dirty. Labourers, miners, factory workers and the like. But, there was little evidence of jobs amongst this little gaggle or their “partners”. Although, I notice that they were all able to afford state-of-the-art mobile phones.

At least we seem to have lost the “Jason and Kylie” generation. Instead, we seem to have developed a fashion for two-syllable names, spelt phonetically. The girls in question were named “Laura”, “Linzi”, “Kerrie” and “Krista” and their “partners” included “Andy” and “Terry”.

We never actually saw Terry. He was AWOL. Probably wetting the baby’s head with a two-litre bottle of cider and a spliff or a line or two somewhere. Or, maybe getting the baby’s name tattooed on his forehead. We did, however, get a brief insight into the caring nature of Terry with the introduction of the Christmas present that he had given to Laura – an American bulldog (nice) called “Gucci” (aspirational at least) who was happily nesting in the baby’s carry cot. Charming.

We did meet Linzi’s other half, Andy, who was described as being a “terrific dad”. Andy lives with his mom. Terrific. In fact, this was to be Linzi’s second child by Andy. Like the first it was “unexpected”. Unexpected? Well at least they didn’t use the term “accident” or “unplanned” but how on earth could it have been unexpected. Did they miss the pretty obvious lesson in biology of the first baby that they made! Indeed, I thought that it was not without a little irony that this programme was immediately followed by “Big Bang Theory”…..on so many levels.

What is our society coming to? I blame Jeremy Kyle. Judge Alan Berg once described The Jeremy Kyle Show as trash which existed to "titillate bored members of the public with nothing better to do". He went on to say "It seems to me that the purpose of this show is to effect a morbid and depressing display of dysfunctional people whose lives are in turmoil." and added that it was "human bear-baiting".

These kids seem to have nothing better to do than stay at home (provided for by the state); spend their benefit on drink, smokes, and drugs; and, shag. They aspire only to have their problems resolved in full public glare on Jeremy Kyle or Trisha; the deluded aspire to become famous on X Factor or Big Brother Uncut. Maybe we should consider shutting down daytime TV, limiting the payment of child benefit to the first two kids, and making parenting classes compulsory.

Rant over…..for now.

Whatever Happened To The News?

Whatever Happened To The News?

Who on earth thinks that is a good idea to have "Dancing" Bill Turnbull front the BBC Breakfast News? He is hardly a classic news anchor, though he does rhyme with one. He is so smug, so smarmy, so uninspiring, so un-serious, so un-witty, so un-fashionable, and, so, so boring. His favourite hobbies are bee keeping and ballroom dancing for chrissake!

He lowers the tone with his un-naturally plucked eyebrows that hint at a grooming regime that is far more stringent than that of his glamorous colleagues (especially Louise Minchin who often looks as if she has just made it in after a very harrowing trip into the office). He lowers the tone with his boring suits and offensive ties. He lowers the tone when attempting, unsuccessfully to conjure witty links between the news stories (I use that term loosely), the weather, the sports report, and those humorous (not) articles they put on about such things as Dancing Dogs at Crufts and the like, or the all-to-frequent blatant advertisements for the BBC’s own programming – Celebrity Strictly Come Dancing, the Apprentice and so on.

Increasingly, they seem to forget to report the news or do so only fleetingly. We are fighting two wars, there is genocide in Darfur, and we are inundated by stories of children pretending to be news reporters, how to make a pancake, obese cats, and Chris Mullin (the sports presenter who is frequently linked with rumours of off-camera nookie with Carol Kirkwood, the weather presenter) in a rather unattractive all-in-one body suit used by Olympic swimmers.

The whole programme would be an absolute nightmare and waste of time if it hadn’t been for the constant distraction of his side-kicks. Like Dr Who, Turnbull comes with his own companion, who is usually an intelligent, easy-on-the-eye, foxy if not sexy female presenter.

The list is extensive, but, I will include it here for no other reason than it will dramatically increase the hits I get, especially from those very sad souls that somehow always find my posts on Cheshire Swingers, or Sleeping With Julia Roberts (see my post on Strange Visitors by way of explanation) with their very obscure search terms.

Sophie Raworth, Natasha Kaplinski (far too much make-up), sporty Kate Silverton, Mishal Husain, and, of course, the dynamic duo which get most men of a certain age going in the morning; the epitome of pint-sized foxiness Susanna Reid (often misspelt in search engines) and Sian Williams. And, not forgetting the glamorous weather girls with which our Bill flirts so furiously: Carol Kirkwood, Helen Willetts, and Louise Lear. Boy, this is going to be my best day ever!

Bill’s colleagues are all smart and professional. They fill in the serious bits when Bill isn’t reminding us that he too appeared in Celebrity Strictly Come Dancing. Presumably he was attracted by the make-up and the flouncy dresses.

Please BBC, Kill Bill! Kick him into touch. Put him out to grass. If it were not for Sian and Susanna it would be nigh on impossible to drag myself out of the bed in the morning. Sometimes it is a relief when I am in a hurry and have to dash to my car and the serious news reporting of the Today programme on Radio 4 John Humphrys is a god! At least they seem to take the news seriously and in depth. What a contrast.

Cooking Up A Storm!

Cooking Up A Storm!

Did anyone else out there witness the demise of Delia Smith last night on her new BBC 2 Programme? Quite possibly I think that dementia might be kicking in. That or the booze.

Now don’t get me wrong, I have a lot to thank Delia for. You don’t get an OBE at the age of 66 and sell 18 million cookery books (and, therefore, outselling Nigel Slater, Jamie Oliver and Gordon Ramsay), without being successful. Her recipes have rescued many a Christmas dinner in our household and her “How To Cook” taught at least two of my sister-in-laws the joy of cooking and eating as well as increasing the sale of eggs by 10% overnight and causing most shops to see-out of omelette pans.

I even quite fancied her when she was on “Multi-Coloured Swapshop”, being the first female chef on children’s TV, before I gave my heart away to Emma Forbes. And, having seen her, Delia that is, modelling bathing costumes in this week’s Radio Times, I can easily see why I did.

Even the rather camp Nigel Slater (who is a chef I admire greatly) seemed to have a soft spot for ol’ Delia, talking at one point about receiving “permission from Headmistress”. I wouldn’t have put him down as being into S&M. It takes all sorts.

However, I am now beginning to believe that the drink-fuelled rant at a Norwich City football game may not have been a one off. She must have been boozed up when she made last night’s show, surely. For, as far as I can tell, it had next to nothing to do with proper cooking or even cheating at cooking as she claimed. How many of us put quails eggs in our fish pies? How many of us have capers, cornichons and walnuts on our shelves? How many put potato into our chocolate cakes? How many of us would pour a sauce that looked like cat sick over spiced potato wedges, boiled eggs, and olives?

Perhaps the most disappointing thing about last night was her constant use of frozen mashed potato. Why didn’t she just show her audience how to make perfectly good mash? It takes just 25 minutes to peel, boil, and mash a potato and with a little butter, milk and seasoning it is quite delicious. The frozen monstrosities that Delia was hawking took 40 minutes to cook. Where is the sense in that?

Maybe it is the lowly position of Norwich that has got her down. Maybe it is the realisation that she has been usurped in many male eyes by the beauty of Nigella Lawson (admittedly fading), and Tana Ramsay (Gordon’s much easier on the eye wife), or, for our American cousins, Giada de Laurentiis and Rachel Ray.

How the mighty have fallen.

What Is The World coming To?

What Is The World Coming To?

What is the world coming to? For one, the weather has gone crazy. There has been a recent earthquake in the UK and today the weather is reminiscent of the final Judgement Day. I know that it was nigh on impossible to see anything much through the spray on the M6 this morning but I could have sworn I was overtaken by the four Riders of the Apocalypse. Perhaps I should stop listening to the Doors on my iPod while I’m driving.

It is not just the weather either. Sporting results have gone mad too. Just look at the FA Cup results over the weekend. Who would have thought it, Portsmouth, Barnsley, Cardiff and West Brom through to the quarter finals. I wish I had been a gambling man…..

And can you believe it, staff working at ACAS (the Advisory, Conciliation and Arbitration Service) have voted to go on strike. These are the very people who are supposed to help other organisations to mediate and avoid strike action. And then you only have to look at the latest Eurovision entries from the UK and Ireland to realise that the world has gone slightly mad.

Conspiracy theorists must be having a heyday too. Just type “conspiracy theory” into Google and you will be entertained well into the next millennium. 9/11 was deliberately orchestrated by the US, or Israel, or Iraq; the US never did land on the moon, while Nazis Germany had a base there as early as 1942; the US and Indian militaries deliberately caused the Indian Ocean tsunamis by setting off an electromagnetic pulse bomb; and, humanity is actually under the control of dinosauroid-like aliens who must consume human blood to maintain their human appearance. Presumably, Deirdre off Coronation Street is the exception that proves the rule. What is going on with that neck of hers?

I must admit that I too quite like to dabble in conspiracy. My favourite is the old Jesus thing – that he was actually a political leader rather than a religious one (that being his brother James), that he was married to Mary Magdalen (a la “Holy Blood, Holy Grail” and the “Da Vinci Code”) and they had a child who founded the Merovingian dynasty in France, with Christ’s descendants going on to include the likes of Leonardo da Vinci, Robert Boyle, Isaac Newton, Victor Hugo and David Icke. Actually I did make up the David Icke connection. And, so did he.

But, I have been to Rennes-le-Chateau and Masada so I know what I know! Similarly, my good lady C predicted the demise of Princess Diana even before Mohamed Al Fayed. Neither of us think the future looks too rosy for Barack Obama either, unfortunately. And, do you know, there are people out there that think that Cliff Richards is actually gay………surely not.

In truth, nothing can be quite as mad as the real world which gave us President George W Bush and the prospect of Boris Johnson as the Mayor of London. Dick Wittington must be turning in his grave. And, I know that Dana is not entirely happy either!

But, if any of you out there have any good conspiracies that you would like to share, just let me know.