Thursday 29 May 2008

Arthur Cucumber?

I received a card the other day, depicting two surprised looking halves of cucumber meeting for the first time, with the caption "They found that not only had they been separated at birth, both were called Arthur Cucumber!" I failed to grasp initially that large numbers of Our Friends in the South (my wife included) have difficulty with "th" sounds. To their pronunciation this is immediately hilarious. It was my mother-in law who sent the card.

On this fine and sunny afternoon (in the North) I was sitting outside my office a mere 30 seconds into a cold drink when my employer pulled up in the car. He couldn't resist a comment about my "easy life" We sat and chatted. My work's going fine, for once. At home it seems everything I touch breaks down, vomits or cries. No wonder I needed some air.

His approach reminded me how much life can be seen as compartmentalised. People talk of "Work/Life balance" as if they're so cut off from each other that they'd be surprised to meet on the street ("Arfur!" they might shout...). I have a family, a faith, a little free time, a job, and now I'm dipping my toes a little in political thoughts and blogging. So why should it be that these aspects of my life should be kept in little boxes? To me they're inseparable.

Our last two Prime Ministers clearly have something in common- their faith is so compartmentalised that it patently has no bearing on their political decisions- Iraq and the HFEB being two notable examples. Please don't give me more duplicitous nonsense: "You’re best to keep politics separate from your beliefs" (Thanks, Tony.) Give me people whose genuinely held beliefs inform every aspect of their lives and policies. And if you don't, I just might. Again, watch this space.

Friday 23 May 2008

Moved to tears by Diane Abbot? Yes, I'm serious.

I heard that humans are the only species which cries when it sees the difference between what is and what should be. It's obvious really; when a toddler sees a bar of chocolate and is told by a parent it can't have it, it cries, because what it wants and what is are different. Well I welled up on the way to work this morning, at two of Diane Abbott's Desert Island Discs. Music has such power to provoke emotion, does it not?

The MP for Hackney chose the South African National Anthem, that beautiful hymn to unity in diversity. That gets me every time, memories of the Rugby World Cup of 1995, Nelson Mandela in the Springbok shirt, scenes unimaginable just a few months before. When I hear of what is happening now in South Africa; hate crime on refugees, shootings, muggings, murder; it breaks my heart.

The second song was "Things Can Only Get Better" by D:Ream, used to celebrate the Labour election victory of 1997. I believed every single word, a young, hopeful voter as I was back then. Since then our government has waged an immoral and illegal war in Iraq and another against human life and dignity in the recent bill. It has abolished fatherhood. It has increased the tax burden on the lowest paid throughthe 10p tax debacle. The worst hit are still not compensated by the gymnastics Alistair Darling has engaged in on thresholds. So I hear the song, remember the faith and hope I had, and here I am, driving across the Town Moor in tears. What is, and what might be, and what a disparity. Young Catholics like me are crying out for a credible alternative. A pro-life, pro-family, pro-worker, anti-war alternative. They will not find it among the established political parties. I may have found something. Watch this space.

My starter for ten

Let's give this a go, and see where it takes us. Good Luck and God Speed everyone!