In theory the Northern
Lights were visible from home. In practice it was too cloudy to see
anything.
This morning over brekkie
I watched a new show I'd recorded. "Bubble Gum" is
about a young girl struggling whith life having had it effectively
stuffed up by religion. It is a comedy but I recognised several
themes from it; having (in retrospect) had by own youth blighted by
crackpot religion... if one can call the Methodist church "crackpot".
And talking of my own
youthful experiences of religion, as I drove to work the radio was
telling the
news of Bishop Peter. When I was in my most religious phase in
the early 1980s Bishop of Lewis was effectively the chap to whom
everyone in the local churches aspired and deferred. In the circles
in which I moved at the time there was more than a bit of hero
worship about the chap.
In the 1990s it was
reported that he'd interfered with a young monk. Yesterday he went to
prison for interfering with several young monks and with a child.
Whilst the monks were of age (if arguably vunerable), the
child on whom he performed indecent acts was only twelve years old.
Whilst that is
inexcusable, it actually happened in 1978. On the one hand it made me
sit up and think. I was fourteen at the time. I could possibly have
been one of his victims. On the other hand I am now fifty-one. Why
has this taken so long to come to the attention of the legal process?
As I say, the bishop went
to prison yesterday. He's now eighty-three years old. He must serve
at least sixteen months of his sentence inside prison and the rest of
the sentence will be on probation in the community *if* he
survives the time in prison. Like many others I doubt he will.
It is frankly cruel
sending a man of his age to prison. if we are going to punish someone
for an offence which took place so long ago, then let's just execute
him and be done with it. That would be far more humane than the slow
death which prison will bring him.
Great issue was made of
today being National Poetry Day. Have I ever mentioned that my
daughter is a published poet? Back in the days before she and
organised secondary education had their final bust-up she won a
competition, had a poem published, and met the (at the time)
Poet Laureate.
For myself I've often
found poetry to be either ridiculous or pretentious. The morning's
thought for the Day was in poem form today; I have no idea whether or
not it was a good poem as it totally failed to grip my attention.
The morning news also had
something which made me sit up and pay attention. The pundits were
talking of a revolutionary
new blood test which can tell whether or not someone's chest
pains are due to a heart attack. It has been suggested that the likes
of me start measuring Troponin levels.
I've actually been doing
that for years....
Once at work I did some
troponin assays, and spent much ot the day thinking and worrying
about my smallest grand-dog. Little Rolo was due to go to the vets
today for the removal of his "flowers and frolics".
Poor little thing. Fortunately for my nerves Cheryl sent me updates
throughout the day.
I went home via the
Cheapo-Bargains shop to get some tennis balls. I had this idea that
we might play "fetch" with my dog on our walk this
evening. As we walked I remembered why I gave up playing "fetch"
with "Furry Face TM". I threw the
ball once; he chased the ball then refused to give it up. He carried
it for several hundred yards then randomly dropped it. I threw it
again for him. He chased after it and carried it again. He then got
*very* possessive of his ball when we met other dogs, and then
every time I threw it he just chased the ball but didn't pick it up
again.
And to add insult to
injury the throwing of the ball has upset my tennis elbow...
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