2 days too late, but never mind

It made me laugh

Bah, mint humbugs!

I saw this on another blog and decided that since it's nearly Christmas I could steal with impunity - so I did.

This raises a number of questions that should test a religious parent. Namely, is it all right to tell the kids about Santa, and THEN tell them when they're older that it's all a story to make them feel good?

I don't want to appear like some sort of Grinch, but it does create problems. Doesn't it!?

Monks Get Cross

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/middle_east/7718596.stm

When Monks attack!

Health and Safety gone nuts

The Burger Van at local football matches do the same thing - not give out half cooked chips, though that is true. No, what I'm talking about is the practice of removing plastic bottle tops after you've bought them.

Upon asking a Burger Van proprietor why this was necessary I was told that it was because of health and safety. There was a worry that the bottle tops might be used to throw at players/refs. She told me this as she was handing me my change in the form of pound coins - ideal missiles for throwing at the players/ref, and more likely to cause real harm.

No health and safety concerns over coinage eh!

Tempted to use the 'C' word

After all the hubbub concerning the BBC and Ross/Brand I was surprised to hear the 'C' word uttered tonight, and by none other than Jeremy Paxman!

Right in front of a guest and directly into his lapel mic Paxman said that McCain 'Could' win the election. I was shocked and immediately contacted the Daily Mail.

The idea of McCain winning is as appealing as contemplating a third Dubya term. What's most frightening about the prospect of John McCain becoming President is not him or his policies per se, but his age. And it's not an ageist thing. The worry is that a man of his age might die in office, and then the Hockey Mom would become President. Sarah Palin in office would be a de facto George W third term.

There seems to be a genuine sense of hope in America today - a sense that a new start might be in the offing. A sense that the utter fuck-up of the Bush Disaster will be consigned to history, or at least will be dealt with, but that might take more then two terms to do.

I've never been so excited about a US election before. I only hope that what happens tomorrow becomes the catalyst for real change both in America and consequently in the world.

Branded as bad men?!

Oscar Wilde probably said something quite pithy about shagging a friends granddaughter, but if he did I didn't hear it.

Today Russell Brand took one for the team, and Jonathan Ross made an abject apology in an effort to save his salary, or at least to do a bit of damage limitation on his career. I listened to the podcast of the Radio 2 show (as a regular subscriber to it I might add, and not an enraged Daily Mail reader who wanted to achieve a suitably high blood pressure before complaining to the Beeb) and while it crossed many lines of taste, it was actually quite funny. It seemed to me to be two silly boys stuck in a room with an old cassette recorder being rude and silly. A moderate Derek and Clive for the 21st century. It really amounted to two egos sparking off each other. Of course it was going to get 'sexual' - it always does! Jonathan Ross DID transgress when he swore. Russell Brand DID transgress when he talked about Andrew Sachs granddaughter. Yes they took it too far, and yes, they caused great offense to Andrew Sachs himself, and for that they should hand their heads in shame.

But wait a minute. Let's take a measured look at what happened.

1. It was a pre-recoreded show, therefore someone at an editorial level decided not only to edit it, but also to release it in the form that caused so much 'offence'.
2. There were only 2 or 3 complaints on the night of the broadcast. That swelled to 27,000 by this time today. That means that the 26,998 who didn't complain on the night must have listened to the show via the podcast, or through BBC iPlayer, or, as is more likely, 'heard' it second or third hand through some other outraged friend.
3. You know what you're going to get with Russell Brand. That's not an attempt to excuse the content of his last radio show - there's no justification for leaving what he left on Andrew Sach's mobile phone. What he said was wrong and while his apology was late, I fell it was genuine (genuine, because it wasn't an attempt to save his job, but was made after the announcement that he was resigning). Those who listened in 'live' or who downloaded the podcast were well aware of the sort of thing they were going to get.

Are Russell and Jonathan bad men? Stupid, yes. Juvenile, yes. Thoughtless, yes. Bad, no.

We're in the middle of a Credit Crunch where repossessions of people's homes are up 70% from the same period last year. We're in a situation where Environmentalists are talking about having reached 'tipping point' for our planet. Cancer and other life threatening diseases are on the increase. War and poverty continue to wreck the lives of the most vulnerable people on our planet. Ross says "fuck" and Brand says "I shagged your granddaughter". Not good. But surely not all that bad.

Is democracy wasted on the thick?

So the National Television Awards have been and gone, and we all thank God they've gone away for at least another 365 days. This annual live televisual event continues to illustrate why democracy never works.

The majority of award shows are voted by a panel of 'experts'. Now you might well question the qualifications of such 'experts' but nevertheless they normally have some experience or expertise that allows them to make a decision regarding winners and losers. Not so for the National Television Awards. They are voted on by the great unwashed, the hoi polpoi. And it shows. It is, of course tarted up - there's no such thing as 'Soaps' in the NTA. No siree, bob! They've become continuing serial dramas. Well, excuse me!!

It reduced TV to the common denominator - the vulgar base. It was a school-yard popularity contest, except this one was conducted via text message and website. Judging from the short-listed programs in each categories there didn't seem to be a consideration for what might have actually been the best produced piece of programming. Instead, I believe, people looked at a category and thought "do I know anyone in that program?" or possibly "do I like anyone in that program?". I also noticed that there was no documentary category, however there was a "factual" section, that was occupied by Gordon Ramsey, Top Gear, and The Apprentice (I thought that was a reality show?!?).

The whole thing was a toe curling experience, and it's not just me being snobbish. It was live and so it needed to be sharp, especially if humour was going to be employed. Sadly, it wasn't. And Sir Trevor MacDonald didn't help. I've no idea why he's chosen year in, year out. He a personable fellow, but he seems to lack a personality - and the best gag writers can't do anything to help him. It's a bit like putting an Elastoplast on a severed jugular.

And that's why democracy is such a good idea - in principle! But not in practice. God knows who/what people will pick if they have a choice. You don't believe me!? Let me just say 'Arnold Swartzenegger' or 'George W Bush'. 'Nuff said?

There's nothing wrong with people having a choice and making a decision so long as they take it seriously and make a considered one. Look at the current US Elections. With only 6 days left before the vote, Republican and Democratic candidates are treading very carefully and speaking with utter care. Why? Because they know that the slightest ill judged phrase, or word out of turn can change a voter's ballot box decision. In other words, when polling day arrives they know that the hoi poloi will wander into the booths and say to themselves, "who do I like more?", not "who will be the best leader for my country?".

Youth is wasted on the young, just as democracy is wasted on the masses.

Strictly Come Off It!

'Strictly' is one of my guilty little secrets. If anyone asks me do I watch it, I reply "I've never seen it!". The truth, of course, is much darker. I never watch it.......intentionally. I'm in front of the telly when it's on, but I'm always too busy reading, or typing to be truly watching it. I suppose it's more a question of keeping an eye on it.

It's one of those love-hate things. Bruce Forsythe gets right on my tits and I'd love to slowly throttle him with Tess Daly joining in so the two of us could look at the camera, Forsythe's near limp body in our clenched fists, while we both say, "Keeeeeeeeep strangling!".

As with most of these reality TV programs they have a habit of sucking you into them. I think it's because you get to watch people in their highs and lows, and see them progress in their desire to win, or at least improve. And I do have my favourites - ah.....Ola!

But have these shows had their day? And are they becoming more about the Panel of Judges than the contestants?

Reality is hard enough without turning it into a game show. Apart from The Family on Channel 4 which is a real reality show, most of them are actually an escape from reality. There's a cosiness and security that draws you in and says, "In this tough, tough world, where the Credit Crunches hardest, and the Winters of Discontent last for 12 months at a time, why not come into our safe little world where even the harsh word of a Judge will always be balanced out by the boos of the crowd".

And it's a temptation that many of us, myself included, find hard to resist. So come on Ola! Come on John! Eat sh*t and die Brendan! You've made my Saturday that little bit less real. Thanks.

Lucky I'm not Superstitious

Yet more gout, so I'm stuck in with my feet up - it's a hard life I know! Have just finished watching Deal or No Deal. For those who do not the idea of the game it is very simple. People are allocated random boxes with amounts of money in them ranging from 1p to £250,000 and then one of them is selected to play. They bring their box to the front with the unknown amount in it. In each round the player selects 3 boxes to eliminate and at the end of the round 'the Banker' phones up and offers the player a sum of money to buy their box. The player can choose to Deal (accept the Banker's offer) or No Deal (continue on with the game).

Essentially it's a guessing game. There's no real skill involved other than knowing when to cut your losses if things go pear shaped. There is an element of gambling in it, but basically you pick a box at random and see how it goes.

But because humans are involved it becomes more than a game. People arrive with 'a system', either picking odds then evens, or more usually numbers that have a personal significance e.g. birthdays, anniversaries, house numbers etc. At other times people hold hands before a box is opened, or else they other contestants lean to the left or spin around. Anything to try and influence the outcome of the box opening.

B F Skinner famously did an experiment with pigeons where an automated machine dispensed food randomly. The pigeons developed what seemed like particular rituals (which he called "adventitious reinforcement") which correspond to superstitious behaviour. Some pecked at the outlet while others waggled their heads, all seemingly to try and produce food when they performed. Of course, the distribution of food was completely random and what they did had no influence on it at all. Although Skinner's results have been disputed approx. one year ago Derren Brown did a similar experiment with people. A group of men and women were trapped in a room and told that when a digital counter on a wall reached 100 the doors would be unlocked. The counter increased in fits and starts, but pretty soon it was apparent that some people thought that the increase in numbers was due to them doing something - jumping up and down, or whatever.

It's amazing how often we think that particular things that we do have an influence in the physical world. Wearing a certain pair of socks, leaving the house in the same way, touching a piece of wood, rubbing a rabbit's foot can, some say, produce a favourable outcome. Of course this is utter nonsense.

Where does superstition come from? I'm not sure what the official line is on this one, but I'd imagine that it stems from an ego-centric worldview: a worldview that believes that the Universe owes us a living, or that we can control our environment.

In Deal or No Deal, when a superstitious behaviour "produces" a favourable then it is hailed as a good system. When it fails, it isn't really mentioned or dwelt on. The reality is that it's neither a good system, nor a bad one as the process is entirely random. The lady who won £75,000 today stated that she'd had some sort of dream in which she wrote herself a cheque for £75k. And she did. The dream was hailed as something special. If she hadn't won £75k but the £5 instead I'm sure it wouldn't have been mentioned.

I find this sort of behaviour with regards to prayer. People, very genuine people I might add, do believe that prayers changes the physical world. This is especially true when it comes to illness. People pray for the sick person, and if they recover it is hailed as the result of their prayers, but if it doesn't then it's ignored or an alternative positive spin put on it. Again, I think, this is a manifestation of a human/ego-centric worldview: that in this massive Universe of ours the Deity would want to intervene to help us find our car keys.

For me, prayer doesn't change the world around us, but rather it changes us. It helps us to cope with all the crap that life throws at us. It gives us hope, and strength, and a sense of purpose. But does it change a diagnosis, or alter an exam result, or secure a job? No. But it does give us the inner resources to deal with such things. Brown did a similar type of experiment with humans trying to win enough 'points' to get out of a room. Brown's results with people mirror those of Skinner's with pigeons.

It's going swimmingly

Today I was with Ben and Amanda for a quick dip in the rather chilly baby-monkey pool at our local Baths (how old am I!!!). Swimming is not something that comes all that naturally to me. And that's strange, because physically you'd think I'd float without a problem, what with all the fat surrounding me. But oddly it seems that my legs float to the surface of the pool. My arse sinks, but my legs float. It is the oddest thing!

Humans have always been fascinated by water. Not me mate! I can swim okay and I have the Badges to prove it, but I don't like being out of my depth. And I don't like the idea of all sorts of beasties swimming unseen beneath my feet (this, of course, applies to swimming in the sea, but not always!). Maybe it's a control thing. Very possibly. Not being able to put your foot on the floor puts you in a very pivotal situation - either you swim, or you sink. Maybe not as grave a situation as that, but the general principle is sound. John Ortberg's book could be easily retitled "If You Want To Have A Nice Swim, You've Got To Take Your Foot Off The Bottom".

Feeling safe is one thing, but it can only preserve life. Pushing off can be scary, but it's the only way to experience real living.

No-one's going to make a monkey out of me...........again!

I don't know why I do it?!? It happens time and time again, and every time I say the same thing to myself - "I can give it up! It wouldn't cost me a thought!". But here I am again. Feeling just as sullied and unclean as before.

I seem to be obsessed with a particular Evangelical Forum. When I read the posts my blood boils and my faith in intelligent Christians fades. For a while I stopped posting stuff, mainly because I was so disgusted at the attitudes and illogicality of those who were keen to air their opinions. And I did stop posting anything for about a month, until tonight! A sweet, but rather dim-witted woman was deriding Evolution with the usual "if evolution is true why are monkeys still monkeys?" Oh the high level of ignorance displayed.

Recently I've been reading up Evolution, and more especially reading stuff that tries to square the avalanche of evidence for Evolution with new thinking on God. When I say "reading" I really mean of course "I've just ordered it from Amazon". When I receive it, and actually read it, I'll post my thoughts.

In my modest research around the subject I'm amazed how many people (mainly Creationists I have to say, though not always) have a binary attitude to the Evolution debate - you have to either accept it or reject it. This seems to be a rather draconian outlook. In Process Theology there is no real problem with Evolution - indeed, it is heartily embraced. But PT does require you to adjust your view of God. No harm with that, says I!

To my mind, the case for Evolution is massive. There is no case for Creationism, as you cannot claim that finding fault with an opposite argument in any way validates your own - the fallacy of false dichotomy I think it's called.

Why not embrace the Science, bite the bullet, and reject the Bronze Age thinking. Surely it takes more faith to move forward with new knowledge and adapt beliefs accordingly, than clinging desperately to ancient irrelevancies no matter what the facts are?!

Forest For Rest

As it was a glorious day (and we don't get too many of those here in Ireland!) I thought I'd go for a walk in Cairn Wood, which is half way between Bangor and the Craigantlet hills if you take the back roads. As it was 11.30am there weren't too many people around so I was able to walk along some of its designated paths in absolute silence. Bliss! I took my mobile along with me, and whilst I couldn't get a signal I was still able to use the camera, and so I took around 20 or 30 pictures.

I was just blown away by the beauty of the place. I walked among the trees aware of Nature and my place within it. I felt like a little cog, but a little cog in the huge, enormous, beautiful machine that is our planet.

On the way in there was a noticeboard that gave some general info about the area and the walks around the Wood. After skimming down the blurb my eye caught a tag-line from the Forestry Commission. It read, "Kill only time, leave only footprints, and take away only memories".

It was so simple, and yet so beautiful. And it reminded me that life is so simple and so beautiful. Yes it can be complicated, and yes it can be dark and distressing, but yes it is simple and beautiful. Only we make it unnecessarily complicated. And at that moment I was drawn to the Bible, and to a passage in Micah:

"He has told you, O mortal, what is good;
and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
and to walk humbly with your God? "

I only hope that I can do that. Forget doctrines and creeds. Forget theology in all its convoluted forms. Forget religion and denominations. Faith can be simple and Faith can be beautiful. ANd so can we. Amen.

Tats the End of Tat

What a day it was today!! The sun was shining and people were bustling round Bangor. So I went down to the seafront where there was a car boot sale opposite the Marina. Having nothing much to do I pottered round the various stalls.

What I encountered could only be explained via the word "tat". Well, maybe "tat" is unfair. "Dirty tat" is closer to the mark.

It looked like people had cleared out their attics, sorted through their stuff, throwing out the rubbish and selling what's left at the car boot sale.

I noticed a number of visitors (I presumed by the accents) and my heart sank. Not because they were here, but because they were being subjected to a sub-standard Jumble Sale. What must they have thought! I remember wandering round the Flea Market in Amsterdam and it being anything but that. It was well organised and had a great variety of stalls selling all sorts of things. It was a lovely Sunday experience.

Pirated DVDs and second-hand toys (that could do with a wipe with a damp cloth) were the best on offer today. It was rather embarrassing to say the least.

If North Down wants to improve its Tourist appeal then things like the car boot sale need to be taken under its control. Car boot sales are fine for Church car parks and the like, but you'd expect something better, or better regulated, for the town centre.

A Game Of Two Halves Nots

Now let's get one thing straight from the very beginning! I quite like football, especially local football, but I don't live and die by the League Table. If my team does well, so be it. If it does badly, well, it's not the end of the world.

And that's a good thing, because at the moment Bangor FC have had an appalling run of luck. I say luck, but for a football team to have a run of bad luck they need to have an initial talent base from which their 'bad luck' seems so unfair.

Bangor started the Season quite well, actually topping the League Table for a week. But all that changed when other teams started playing games of football. Poor Bangor's last 4 matches have been lost, scoring only one goal, and letting a staggering fourteen in! Fourteen!!It's been a massacre. Bereft of mercy the last 2 Home games were both 0-5. And they have the cheek to charge £11 to get in - it's £9 if you want to stand, but at my age...........

I've never understood people (men usually) who's mood rises and falls depending on the results from the Premiership, 1st Division, or wherever. Yes it's good to have a hobby and it's good to show loyalty to a team, but please people! A bit of perspective!

What Bangor FC teaches me is never to give up hope. Yes, they can be rather poor. Yes, they can disappoint on a regular basis. Yes, the 'Club Shop' is never open so I can buy a scarf. Yes, it's mainly supported by older men. Yes, the burger van has a poor vegetarian selection. But more importantly, yes, there's nothing quite like a live match, and the sense of camaraderie is lovely (more like 'misery loves company' most Saturdays).

While things are bad now, there's every chance that things will improve, and even a chance, fairly remote I realise, that some massive win will unexpectedly be pulled off. I text a friend every game I'm at to keep him up to date as he lives in Manchester, and strangely the National Sports Headlines don't include the JJB Sports Northern Irish Premiership results. BBC! Why, oh why, oh why, oh why! What he said to me was this, "It is only by coming thru the pain and misery of being a bangor fan that we can truly appreciate the joy of the occasional victory!"

Wise words my friend, wise words.

Making No Bones Of It

Like Paul on the Road to Domestos I had an epiphanal moment. Not quite 'on the road' but more like parked in the drive.

I was thinking about fossils and how Creationists say that all fossils are as a direct result of the global flood of Noah. All very sweet. Ah, bless!

Then it struck me. If fossils were formed via the Flood (ah, bless!) then why are there only dinosaurs and other prehistoric fossils? If the flood wiped out all life and it occurred only 4-6,000 years ago, then why aren't there fossils of cows, lions, sheep, donkeys, horses and other modern animals in with the dinosaurs in the same strata?!? And why not humans too?!?

I know Creationists (ah, bless!) talk about animals floating and sinking at different stages, hence the dinosaurs appear lower (and therefore older) but as Ken Ham has said (ah, bless!) the bulk of the dinosaurs were actually quite small - that's why Noah could get them on the Ark (ah, bless!). If that is the case, then why aren't there small dinosaurs fossils alongside the fossils of similarly sized modern animals? Surely they would've sank at the same rate/time?

Oddly enough, there aren't any! Indeed, I'm not aware of any modern animal fossils being found.

Don't you just love Creationists?! Ah, bless!

A Pick of the Pics

It's all Downhill from here

Today I spent the most pleasant couple of hours in my own company. Normally I'm fairly good about being alone, but usually crave some sort of human contact after a while but today was different. After watching Bangor getting a 3-1 thrashing by Coleraine I needed a 'nice' experience.

I drove along to Downhill beach and walked along it for around half an hour. It was a calm day, not sunny but not cold either. Lots of people were about and a few families were having BBQs on the sand. People were fishing or playing games. It was a lovely atmosphere. From Downhill you can see Mussenden Temple, and it was there where I next walked.

The air was crisp and the smell of the sea was pleasant in my nostrils. The setting sun lit up the clouds with a beautiful reddy glow, and it was silent. Absolutely silent. It was almsot a 'spiritual' experience. It reminded me that the North Coast, and especially the Downhill area, is my little Heaven on earth. If God were ever to take holidays, I'm sure S/He would rent a little cottage there. I don't think I could ever tire from a place like it and it did my soul good to walk there. Many, many pleasant memories flooded through me, and I must admit I did feel a little emotional. There was a sense of oneness with Nature - nothing really mattered - nothing was really important other than enjoying being there and enjoying being alive. I snapped away with my little camera phone and will post a selection of them so that you can enjoy a taste of what I had.

Will we be Cern-tain?

It's the eve of something big. Something really big. In fact, it could be a big bang, or possibly a damp squib. The particle accelerator at Cern will be fired up and ready to roll tomorrow. Along a tube some 27 kms long, two particles will be shot at almost the speed of light towards each other. The data that is gathered will hopefully tell us something about what happened in the first one billionth of a second after the Big Bang.

And that's as far as my knowledge goes. I always regret not pursuing Physics beyond O-Level but I didn't have the Maths, and you need the Maths. Nevertheless, I continue to have an armchair interest in Science, to the point where I'm genuinely excited about what might be discovered after tomorrow. My worry is that it won't deliver the hype that's been generated, predominately by the press. My other worry is that if nothing significant is discovered then all that money will have been for nought: some £5 billion as far as I'm aware. Now I realise that 5 billion is the cost of a couple of weeks in Iraq, and even if Cern produces nothing it will be a thousand times better than what's been achieved via the 'war' there.

So I wait with baited breath. In response to the Daily Mail article that said we'll all die in a black hole, I'll leave posting off this month's credit card payment. Seems best.

Not a total Disaster Movie

Just back form the cinema with the kids having been treated to 90 mins of my life that'll I'll never get back. It was "Disaster Movie" by name and by nature. When did parody sink so low?! And why wasn't I told!?

It's not often that I sit through a film that contains NO redeeming features. There has to be a first I suppose. This was it. Live and learn!

The only good thing I can think about this appalling evening (no reflection on Dan or Soph here) was that I saw a poster advertising another film, "the boy in the striped pyjamas", a film about a young boy in a Concentration Camp.

It just goes to show you that there's no such thing as a a complete wipeout. If I hadn't been at Disaster Movie I would never have seen the other poster. Not a complete disaster then.

Hallelujah! times a thousand

A couple of nights ago, spurred on by reading William Crawley's bog, from which the above pic is taken, I watch a live streaming from one of the healing services from the Elim Christian Centre in Belfast. Very much like the Lakeland 'Revival' stuff, in fact in Belfast they claim that it's as a result of Lakeland, the services in Belfast have run every evening for the last two and a half months.

On Wednesday and Thursday Joshua Mills took time out of his busy schedule (I've no reason to doubt this) to do 2 nights in Belfast. Mills comes from the Extreme Prophecies stable which is heavily into 'signs and wonders' which include the appearance of gold and sapphire dust, oil, diamonds, angel feathers and such like. It also includes healings, imparted anointing, prophecy, and so on.

Previously I've seen footage of various Shamen whipping people into frenzies from which they experience all sorts of things - the 'supernatural' if you will. Psychologists will tell you it's all to do with expectancy and allowing yourself to get into a suggestible state. In such a state you can 'see' and 'experience' all manner of stuff which you genuinely believe to be real, but which doesn't pass mustard in the cold light of day. Mills is a slightly tubby, slightly camp American Shaman.

Joshua Mills claims that people have experienced weight loss, whitening of teeth, appearance of gold fillings, healings of all descriptions at his revival meetings. Gold dust, looking suspiciously like glitter but no-one has actually analysed what it really is, has appeared on his hands and jacket. Oil has flowed from his hands, or possibly from out the tubes up his sleeves.

On Thursday he emphasised the power of the Hallelujah. Indeed, he used the word frequently, and I mean frequently - possibly six or seven hundred times in the space of two hours. It punctuated almost every other sentence he spoke. And boy did he speak. He hardly took a breath.

Stage hypnotists, and people like Derren Brown, use something called "anchoring": a technique where a particular word or touch is anchored, or linked, to a suggestion. The 'victim' is put into a light hypnotic state and the suggestion is implanted via the anchoring. The anchor will then trigger the suggestion in the subconscious of the individual. That's why in Derren Brown's programs people believe they have a free choice, whereas they've actually been conditioned to choose the card, envelope, whatever, that he wants them to choose.

Pastor Brian warmed up the cried shouting "Are you ready to see God at work!". When the cry of 'yes' wasn't loud enough he asked them the same question again. There was then a time of worship led by a loud rock band where there was singing and also prayers. Pastor Brian prayed by shouting into a mic(!) while the band continued to bash out a beat. By the time Josh stood to speak the crowd were well warmed up, but more importantly, they were expectant.

Then Joshua spoke for 2 hours. He talked of miracles. He talked of power. He talked of healing. He talked of the supernatural. He talked of change and glory. All these things were punctuated with "Hallelujah....Hallelujah....Hallelujah". The anchoring was done. He spoke so quickly that no-one had time to process and think about anything he said which was lucky for him as he made ridiculous claims (the power of the Hallelujah brought his house plant back to life; the power of the Hallelujah enabled him to lay hands of healing on Fluffy the dog). By the time people were queueing for healing the power of the anchoring Hallelujah was so deeply implanted that they 'experienced' healing. They were expectant, whipped up, and hungry and so they believed whatever they wanted to believe, or whatever they were told to believe.

You may ask, O kind reader, and by the way, thanks for sticking with me thus far, why I'm so sceptical about Joshua and his like. A reasonable question. Why can't I leave him, and the hapless gullible fools who lap up his bullshit alone, and instead let them be happy in their delusion.

Last week the 7 year old daughter of people who lived down the street was buried. She was diagnosed with a brain tumour in December 2007 and died in August 2008. No miracles. No gold dust. No power of the Hallelujahs. God wasn't to be found in that house in any healing capacity. Allegedly He is in places where Mills and others are - there in bucket loads. But not where He is needed. Not in that little girl's home.

My anger is because some people will be so convinced and deluded that they will say that real healing occurs, but won't be able to see the factors that cause people to pretend to see it. For them it is freak shows like the Mills spectacle that is proof of God's healing power. Would not greater proof of healing be in the quiet and despair of the 7 year old's house rather than in the self-induced and deliberately enhanced emotional and hypnotic whirlwind of these revival meetings?! Why does God fail to do what is needed for her, yet seems to turn up big time only when particular people claim to have certain gifts. To compound the cynicism, Joshua quoted from Corinthians ("God loves a cheerful giver") as the bucket was passed around and also informed people they could donate online (and if they were writing a cheque could they please make it out to ECC). God can't/won't heal unless He is properly funded.

When not being sick is really sick

Who is this, you might ask? Well, actually many people did, and they were supposed to have known him. His name is Michael Guglielmucci and until recently he was a Pastor in Sydney.

In 2006 he announced to his congregation that he had an aggressive form of cancer which was terminal. Since then he has appeared in church wearing an oxygen tube and wrote a song, "Healer", which was included on the latest Hillsong worship compilation CD. Updates were guven regarding his condition, including the news that various secondary cancers were discovered.

Then, approx. one week ago it was revealed that his 'illness' was a lie and that there was nothing wrong with him - apart from mental illness. His father, the senior Pastor at Edge Church, revealed that an addiction to pornography had caused massive guilt with Michael, and to take focus off this he invented his cancer. Michael kept the truth not only from his congregation but also from his wife, children, and wider family.

Money that was collected in connection to his claimed 'treatment' was pledged to be returned and Michael is said to be seeking help for the many problems he obviously has.

The usual initial response to this type of deception by a prominent churchman is to condemn him for his actions, but this case seems to be slightly different. Yes, he lied, and yes, many thousands of people were left feeling confused and betrayed, but he didn't act out of a desire for personal gain, nor was it a cold and calculating plan to deceive. The man was just mentally ill and I'm glad he is being treated.

Do we expect those who stand at the front of our churches to be perfect? Do we expect perfection when we ourselves are not perfect? The 'double life' is a fairly common occurrence in the Church and is made all the more juicy when the person caught out is someone who has preached against the very thing that he himself ended up doing (for a wonderful recent example of this why not Google "Michael Reid Ministries"). People like Reid, IMO, deserve the ridicule they get. People like Michael, again IMO, deserve our sympathy and our help. Someone once said that the church is the only organisation that shoots its own wounded. That's very possibly true. Yet another reason to review what we believe and how we 'do' church.

A must read for every Christian

Having just finished watching The Genius of Darwin on 4oD (God bless you Channel 4) I thought I'd dig out my copy of the above book. I read it 2 years ago when it was first published and was keen to reacquaint myself with its contents. I'm only just a few dozen pages into it, but without reading it completely for the second time I feel able to raise some of the questions Dawkin's asks.

The main premise of the book is, can the existence of God survive scientific empirical examination, and not to spoil the end for those who haven't read it, but the answer is no.

Bronze age cosmology is not appropriate for today. We, as humans, have had to change the way we think about the Universe. No longer can we be geocentric in our outlook. Neither can we think in terms of a three tiered universe - consequently there is no such thing as "up". As Bishop John Robinson said some 40 years ago, we cannot just shuffle the mental furniture around and pretend we have a new room, we need to get the Transit down to Ikea pronto! (well, he did say the first bit).

No-one likes to have to radically rethink anything. The comfort of the familiar is much more................comfortable!!?! But we do need to rethink and re-evaluate how we frame God. Otherwise we might continue in our delusion.

When raising the dead doesn't just mean Viagra

Mortuary Outreach

The above link takes you to a video from an organisation called Extreme Prophecy who are advocating a campaign of Mortuary Outreach. That's right! They're suggesting that Christians go into mortuaries and offer to resurrect the dead. I'll leave you to watch it yourselves, and to be fair the video is not the original but is one which has been edited with comments from another individual. Having said that, the person who put their comments over the original did a grand job, in my opinion.

The question the video poses is where does delusion end and out and out insensitivity begin. The women presenting this video is certainly certain about her certainty, and anyone is entitled to believe what they want. And to that end, I endorse anybody's right to believe the earth is flat, or that unicorns exist, or that, as Bertram Russell posited, that there is an invisible teapot that orbits the Sun. Anyone can believe what they want, provided their belief does not trample over the feelings and sensibilities of others. Hope springs eternal, but false hope can flood the house and ruin everything.

What the Mortuary Outreach team was doing was not raising the dead. Nor will they ever do such a thing. They talked about it. They generated prophecies about it. They speculated about the wonder and awe that would occur when they eventually succeeded. But when they left the building the number of dead people in it remained the same. The only thing they added to the situation was an increase in pain and grief. You can't say they're not generous.

They arrived as happy, clappy fuckwits, and they left as happy, clappy fuckwits, safe within their own delusions. It's the mess they left behind that's the real story here. People who are grieving are at their most vulnerable and would do literally anything to get back the person who has just died. These morons turn up and offer them false hope that this will happen. Straws are presented and duly clutched at. And surprise, surprise, the corpse remains a corpse and the grief remains grief.

Another thing that stays the same is the delusion of the Outreach team. I imagine they could visit a million mortuaries and have a million non-raised bodies and STILL they would believe that the next one would produce a positive outcome. What they don't seem to realise it the harm and hurt they are causing along the way. Some might even go so far as to say that it was a lack of faith on behalf of one of the family members that prevented the resurrection taking place. Or dare I say, an unconfessed sin from the cadaver that's stopping life flowing back again.

Can we not deal with what is real!! Grief is real. Death is real. Resurrection is not.

Being there for the bereaved is real. Supportinng those in pain is real. Presence Ministry is real. Mortuary Outreach is not.

Come into my wing mirror, said the spider to the fly

In the top left corner of my wing mirror you can just about make out the body of a spider and part of his web. He is actually one of two - the other one, his cousin I presume, lives in the right hand one.

I've always spotted the webs but never saw the boys in action. Then one day, when I was parked I glimpsed both of them dragging some poor wee sod of a fly behind the glass.

I'm always amazed at how they manage to survive at all! It just shows you how strong the survival instinct is in all life. Life just gets on with it, no matter how tough it is. With this in mind, should we be making it any harder for animals (ourselves included) than absolutely necessary?!

There is an attraction in living simply but also a repulsion. As I sit here typing on my laptop I don't feel 'able' to ditch the creature comforts, even though I know that I don't need 90% of the crap I live with. And yet...........I'm loathe to get rid of things because without them I might feel hard done by.

If I had a simple life then I might not be putting pressure on the rest of Nature. I'm not going to save the world, don't get me wrong, unless I'm Superman and not known it, but I am responsible for me and what I do.

While I ponder the mysteries of Life and living I will keep half an eye out for Incy and Wincy, should there ever make an appearance again. God bless those little guys!

Georgia on my mind

The last week has seemed to me like a strange dream. Seven days ago I would've been pushed to pinpoint Georgia on the map. Seven days later and it looks like Russia is pushing to remove bits of it from the map.

The conflict over the breakaway region ofSouth Ossetia is indeed a frightening one. As with these post-Soviet countries, the situation is not quite as simple as the 'big guy vs little guy' scenario that it first appears to be. Ethnic niggles that became more apparent when Georgia broke away from the former Soviet Union spilled over into 'vengeance' attacks and many homes have been burnt and lives lost.

While the US have been strong in their condemnation of Russia there seems, at present anyway, little stomach to do anything than bandy strong words. In the short term there may be some punitive sanctions, but the long term Russia has little to fear because America needs countries like Russia in its so-called War on Terror.

For me, the most frightening thing is that a large and militarily able country like Russia can roll into a small country like Georgia, and nothing be done. It's almost like those horrible Primary School fights that occasionally broke out. Two kids would batter hell out of each other while a sizeable crowd gathered around them, not to pull them apart, but to encourage them on.

The idea of International Law is something of a joke, and not a particularly funny one at that. It seems to be complied with by stronger countries when it suits. It is used to justify attacks on certain regimes but can be blatantly ignored when it becomes a hindrance. The Law is an illusion, International Law doubly so.

Toeing the line

Lying in bed has always been something I celebrated, and practiced as often as possible. For the third time in three months I've been in bed with a bout of gout. That's right! Gout!

It reminds me how dependent we are on our feet, especially when we're off them. Gout prevents you from walking so you're restricted to an aching hobble-style of movement. Running is out of the question, and to a 20 month toddler that spells a lot of fun - running so far ahead to be well clear then waiting until his hop-a-long father catches up and then the game of mouse and crippled cat continues. The wee monkey!

If it were all down to steaks and port then I'd have no excuse, but as a vegetarian who hasn't had port in a long while mea non culpa. According to t'InterWeb, the source of all useless knowledge, gout can be triggered by carbonated drinks. Oops! Mea culpa big tempus!

Usually it takes 48 hours to get over this, thanks to the tablets the hospital gave me. So, I should be back on my feet (literally) by the weekend, but may have to visit the quack to see if there's some other cause. Ho hum.

Ooff!

I've been thrilling myself recently with the deeply dull yet utterly compelling John Shuttleworth who takes the banal and ordinary things of daily life and makes them warm and engaging. He is a bit like Marmite though, in the sense that there's little by the way of middle ground.

Radio Shuttleworth is definitely worth listening to (repeated on BBC7 - check listings)

eBay gum!

It sometimes takes a great leap of faith for me to trust t'InterWeb, especially when it comes to online shopping and the like. So far, I've managed to overcome my distrust of Amazon and use it without a second thought.

It's a different matter, however, when it comes to eBay. Amazon is a big company. eBay has individual nerdy gits trying to offload their tat onto unsuspecting mugs like me. When I order from Amazon it arrives. I don't quite have the same confidence with eBay (even with all the measures they have in place).

So recently I put a bid on a particular gadget. Immediately I was overwhelmed by two conflicting emotions:

1. oh crap, I might not get this, and
2. oh crap, I might actually get this

In the past, when I did tentatively bid for something, the moment I was outbid was a moment of great relief - at least I didn't have to see whether it would arrive or not!

Now I realise that hundreds of thousands of people use eBay frequently, and without any problems, but there is that invisible, mental wall to get over. Once over it will no doubt cease to exist, but until then I continue to be plagued with these polemic feelings.

And don't get me started on PayPal!!

You're a right shower! Of meteors!

  Having looked forward to going to the Armagh Planetarium for ages, Dan, Soph and I journeyed down there in great anticipation. Pre-booking the tickets for the Astronaut show (the website having recommended such an action) we made it just in time to pick them up, and with only a few minutes left to hang around the ridiculously overpriced gift shop.

The show was a bit of a disappointment to be honest. I was hoping for a tour of the Solar System at least. Coupled with this, was the constant nurping of a group of wee kids every time the lights went down. When we subsequently went round the exhibits I can only describe them as 'okay'. Maybe that was because the Show was a let down and my perception of all that the Planetarium had to offer was tainted by that. I'm not sure.

However, there was one jaw dropping experience. As we pottered round things we came across the cases with the meteors in them. There was also a large item sitting out (as pictured). I rose up to my full height of ignorance and confidently announced to the kids that "this isn't real. It's only a cast of it". "This is real" announced the Planetarium employee, as she proceeded to bounce a ten pence piece of it and we all listened to the haunting 'ting' it made as she did it (this was caused by the hollow tubes of iron within it - apparently).

According to the blurb, this meteor, which  we all pawed, was approx. 4 billion years old. This bit of rock was older than the bit of Rock it was sitting on! A mind blowing thought, which was why, I suppose, I couldn't stop touching it. This meteor came from the debris of another planet and eventually wound its way through time and space to come crashing down on Earth, only to end up on a plywood plinth in Armagh! Poor sod!

As said before, astronomy and cosmology fascinate me beyond words. They are a constant source of wonder to me. But they also give me a sense of perspective, for through them I realise that the Universe does not revolve around this one planet nor does it revolve around me. But that I am conscious of this fact does make me feel special - humbled, yet special. If all things are truly in God (panentheism), and if God is interested in little 'ole me, then it is a comforting thought that the God of this MASSIVE Universe can find a place for a little fat man in it. Even one who is disappointed with his visit to the Planetarium.   

Feeling humbled

Last night was the first time since I'd impulse bought my cheap telescope that there was even a partial break in the clouds. So at midnight I hauled my wobbly plastic homage to Galileo to an even surface and set it up. 

Seeing only a handful of stars I did my best to point the telescope in the right direction. Because it was a cheap one, precision was out of the question, but EVENTUALLY I managed to locate something in the main lens. With my eyesight it was difficult to know if it was in focus or not but what I saw was mind blowing.

At first I thought it was a planet (aw bless!) but then I realised that everything I looked at couldn't be a planet, so it had to be a star. Having never viewed anything through a telescope I wasn't entirely sure what I should've been seeing. I saw a round object, sort of fuzzy, with more light around its edges than in the middle.

And then it struck me. I was looking at something like our Sun, only this was millions of light years away. The Earth, the Sun, and the other 8 planets were not the centre of the universe. There were others suns, and no doubt other planets, possible similar to the one I was standing on.

Suddenly the Universe seemed very large indeed. As Douglas Adams once said "You might think walking to the Chemists and back is a long way, but it's nothing compared to the expanses of Space" (it's from memory so apologies for its undoubted inaccuracies). There I was. Just a speck, on a speck, looking at another speck through a telescope, surrounded on every side by an infinitesimal number of specks. I can see now why existential angst is so popular! And yet I did not feel alone (any more than usual lol), nor did I feel insignificant or unimportant. In his collection of sermons entitled Shaking the Foundations, Paul Tillich said "Simply accept the fact that you are accepted". God accepts us for who we are because we are, and He is. No conditions, no pre-nups, no bargaining. We are accepted. That is Grace. Even in a big empty Universe we find meaning and acceptance.   

King Silly Billy and the Slippery Slipway

It seems that Health and Safety applied even to King Billy.

Does my bum look big in this?

The answer has to be YES. The fast food emporium and pizzeria is the inevitable downfall of the unsociable hours worker. When something quick is needed, and disastrously when you're hungry, the unhealthy option becomes necessity rather than choice. Couple that with comfort eating and you've a recipe for obesity. The trouble is that it tastes SO good. That could well be its attraction. Unhappiness and food seem well suited bedfellows.

I've no desire to reveal my exact weight but suffice to say it's a smidge beyond 10st. Honest! The quick way to lose the weight I need to lose would be to amputate both my legs, but even I consider this to be a touch rash. The long, painful and dull way to do it is through exercise and reduced calories, but compared with a Cheese Feast Pizza there's no real competition.

So keep watching the skies (or should that be pies?!?). If I lose any weight you'll be the firse to know.

   

Dead Wrong?!?

This is Pastor Brian. Know him? Neither did I until a story broke on local Radio that Pastor Brian's Church the Elim Christian Centre in North Belfast had closed its normal Services and was running a healing Service every evening at 7:30pm. It is claimed, and bear in mind that it is only a claim, that many people have been healed from all sorts of illnesses, including chronic fatigue syndrome, depression, various orthopedic disorders, brain tumours, and even cancer.

Someone even claimed to have been brought back to life after having been clinically dead in a hospital operating theatre for 16 minutes, simply through the power of prayer. Pastor Brian was reported to have visited the CIty Morgue with the intention of resurrecting a corpse there, but so far they all remain dead. 

What is happening here is mirrored by similar events in Dudley (in the UK) and in Florida. It's not original, nor is it unique. But is it helpful (never mind 'is it true!')?

I've buried more than enough, in my opinion, of people who died "before their time" (however you interpret that phrase). And tomorrow, I am doing a session as Chaplain in the Cancer Centre in the City Hospital where I will encounter approx. 15 people, all with cancer, and all at different stages - some will be there for treatment, while others will be there for palliative care. All will be hoping that their cancer will go into remission - myself included. Some may also be hoping that God will somehow intervene to 'cure' or 'take away' their cancer. 

Having never had cancer myself, but having met so many who do, or sadly who did have this horrible disease, I want to be as positive as I can be without giving false hope. There are unexplained occasions when a cancer, or illness, seems to disappear. No-one seems to know why, but they do know it appears to vanish. Unfortunately this is a rare occurrence, and for every person that this happens to there are thousands for whom cancer takes its normal course. For those who experience this unexplained change in circumstances, thanksgivings are offered and God is praised, because if it is unexplained it must be a healing work of God! Sadly, this 'god of the gaps' thinking works well in these isolated experiences, but not in the wider picture. For every individual who is 'healed' there are thousands who are buried. For every healing that is shouted from the rooftops, there are thousands of named never mentioned again - yet all of them were prayed for. Foe every person 'touched by the hand of the Almighty', there are thousands, even millions, who do not apparently experience The Almighty's loving hand.

Before you proclaim that I do not believe that God heals, hold your fire! I do believe that God heals, only maybe not in the way that Traditional Theism states. The word in Greek for "healing" is also the same word for "salvation". "Jesus Saves!" can also mean "Jesus Heals!". Jesus heals us from all that would stop us seeing the truth of God in action, if only we would open our eyes. 

Process Theology teaches that God is a persuasive, rather than a coercive, force - God works in EVERY situation in life to call us towards the BEST POSSIBLE outcome. Not an improbable outcome, but the best one within the boundaries of possibility. Cancer is therefore something that just happens. It is not caused by God, but neither does God 'step in' to take it away. It's up to modern medicine to try and combat cancer as best it can - sometimes it does, and sometimes it doesn't. Cancer doesn't always = death. It really doesn't! Having a positive attitude and a determination to fight it can be beneficial, just as a negative and pessimistic attitude can have a detrimental effect on the treatment received.

In good times as well as bad; through illness as well as health; in times of joy and in times of distress, God is always with us. This idea that God is apart from us and occasionally drops into our world to perform some magic trick is so far removed from the Biblical notion of God (although there is three tiered universe posited in the Bible, but this is a cosmological rather than a theological error). You don't need to ask God to help; God already is. You don't need to go to a special Church or place to experience God; God is already beside you and within you. You don't need to confess or repent before God will help; God IS love, and God IS good.

Claims of healings and dramatic interventions are really just that - claims. They rely on an outdated understanding of the Divine that ultimately leaves people feeling worse, because statistically more will be left 'unhealed' than are magically 'healed' - it often pours out feelings of guilt ("was it an unconfessed sin?", "did I not have enough faith?" etc) or gives people a false hope ("maybe next time I'll get healed").

Pastor Brian's visit to the morgue was more to resurrect a dead faith-model than to provide evidence of God's activity in the world, or in HIS particular branch of the church. God is here now (God's never been anywhere else!) but God can only do what can be done. 

Thought For The Day

Yesterday morning, at the ungodly hour of 5:30am, my alarm clock woke me so that I could get ready to go to the BBC in Belfast for a live Thought.

It's essentially 2 mins 45 secs of talk about a topical issue with a religious, though not always so, twist to it. Sounds easy?! Getting up so early is really the easy bit. The difficult part is trying to say something relevant to people's lives, and to limit it to 450 words. It requires a lot of work and many, many rewrites and alternative drafts. 

So I've four more of them to do, and each time I do a batch of these things I like to try and have an underlying theme that pervades all 5 talks. Last time it was Universalism. This time I'm going to try and tinge each talk with a bit of Process Theology. 

So if you can, why not listen in each Friday at 6:55 and 7:55am. The Radio Ulster link will take you to a live streaming of it

Rocks On! You don't have to put on the last concert!

For those of you with particularly good eyesight the tiny figure on stage holding a guitar is none other than Sting, taken with my mobile phone camera from some 100+ yards away.

Last night was The Police's first, and sadly last concert in Belfast. Around 30,000 people, mostly middle aged, shuffled their way to the Stormont Estate to see The Police on part of their 30 year anniversary tour. Even after 30 years they were not a disappointment. 

They performed all the usual crowd pleasers as well as a few that only die-hard fans (not the Bruce Willis ones) would have appreciated. The sound quality was fine and the screens helped those of us in the cheap area (£64.50!!!) to get a glimpse of them in close up. Not that that was a terribly appealing prospect. Of the three members, only Sting seems to have aged well. The other two looked like they'd given their Care Assistants the slip for a couple of hours. Also, there was little chat - I know that people come to hear the songs but a bit more audience participation would've been nice, or even a few stories to put things in context. Andy Summers said nothing for the duration and there was little or no 'chemistry' on stage, though at a couple of points Sting did try to 'pal' things up, but it looked slightly contrived.

I'm so glad I went now, even though I was on my own (wasn't it Henry David Thoreau who said "a city is millions of people being lonely together"). It was well organised and my only complaint is against not those who organised it, but against those who attended. The amount of rubbish left at people's feet was appalling. Now I realise this makes me sound like a something of a moaner.........and you'd be right, but it did sort of dent my faith in humanity. How arduous is it to carry a few plastic cups to a bin. What also dented my faith in people was the person who dented me. For the last 20 mins a fat, middle-aged, drunk woman proceeded to have a conversation with her male neighbour which obliged her to throw her arm around his shoulders EVERY time it was her turn to speak. Of course, EVERY time she did this she elbowed me in the sternum. And no matter how often I took a step back she seemed to follow me. To be fair to her, for the last 5 mins she stopped hitting me with her elbow, and switched to hitting me with the handbag she'd slung over her shoulder so that she was free to dance badly.

Other than those minor things, it was an amazing night and it made me appreciate the joys of live music, especially when that music is played well. And I also now have a greater respect for Sting as a musician and a live performer. He made the night. 

Vote for me, if you value your life

As the date for the election in Zimbabwe comes closer, the political heat in that beleaguered country intensifies. Morgan Tsvangirai has been arrested for the fifth time and the political opposition to Mugabe's Zanu-PF lives in fear of their lives as beatings and death threats seem run of the mill.

The type of regime run by Mugabe seems reminiscent of the one run by Saddam in Iraq - torture, oppression, fear, poverty being the order of the day. Luckily for Mugabe there is no oil in Zimbabwe and so 'regime change' is unlikely to be pursued by the Americans. 

It's funny how much of a difference oil can make to a Superpower's foreign policy. Not having any can put you very far down the list. What was once the "bread basket of Southern Africa" has now become close to the brink of starvation and its population suffers greatly. Like Saddam, Mugabe seems fueled by his own narcissism, but as he won't effect the prices at the petrol pumps in the West he's safe enough. 

Selective Western interventionism is a source of anger for me, and while I appreciate that the US can't involve itself in each and every individual situation, I can't help but be cynical regarding the ones it does poke its nose into. Iraq and Afghanistan seem to be personally and commercially motivated ventures by the current US President. Darfur, Zimbabwe, and others are conveniently ignored. God appears to have forgotten to tell Bush to change the regime in Zimbabwe. Well, nobody's perfect.