Spinoza

I was playing Scrabble with my dad while recouperating at the weekend; I find it more approachable than chess. During one particular game, I was struggling a bit when I found that I had SPINOZA. Naturally I didn't put it down but told my dad about it afterwards. My dad had never heard of him and imagined Spinoza to be a herb. All I knew was that he was a French philosopher. Looking him up in my dictionary of philosophy, I found that he was actually Dutch, not French, but couldn't concentrate enough to read the article properly.

Not very interesting, I know. But in class today, guess who the lecturer began speaking about? Apperently, it was Spinoza who pioneered the historical-critical method of biblical study in response to the way the church was abusing scripture to make it say whatever it wanted it to say.

The lecturer asked whether any of us had heard of Spinoza. Thankfully, the person sat next to me had come across him and wasn't afraid to say so, which saved me the embarrassment of trying to explain that I'd had him on my Scrabble rack just a couple of days ago.

The fly was still there when I left home this morning, it doesn't seem to have followed me.

Under the bad weather

I came home for an early weekend this week. I've been a bit under the weather since last Saturday, it didn't seem serious at first, and it still isn't I hope, but I was coughing like a maniac (a maniac with a cough) last night when I wanted to try to sleep. I feared I would vomit if I wasn't careful so I went to the bathroom and sure enough, a little sick came up. Once this had happened, I had nothing to lose so I stayed there and fervantly called for Rolf - I usually find that being violenly sick is a turning point on the way to recovery - but nothing more substantial came up. So I left it feeling unfulfilled.

I haven't been sick since but I can't say I'm entirely recovered either, I just feel a bit strange and unready to take on any major tasks. (even more than usual)

Lying in my bed now, I can see a fly on my wall, it hasn't moved for two days. I think it must be dead, unless someone is using it to spy on me! If there are any ladies out there who would like to be a fly on my wall, leave comments below.

Intolerance

There was quite a response to the departure of Roy Keane from Manchester United over the weekend. Personally, I was pleased to see him go. But, on reflection, it's slightly inconvenient.
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I think it's highly unlikely that I'll ever be invited onto Room 101 (A TV show where celebrities cast the things they find most irritating into an oblivion named after a Torture Chamber in George Orwell's 1984) but it's useful to have a good idea of the five things one might wish to rid the world of just in case. Whenever I've thought about this Manchester United Football Club has been top of the list, and Roy Keane and Alex Ferguson have been the club's chief perpetraters of evil. (I'd have to find some way of rescuing Wayne Rooney, England needs him, and Ryan Giggs, just because) But now that Keane is no longer connected with the club, I'm going to have to use up a second choice to get rid of him personally, which brings its own dangers - Keane is much more likely to come and break my legs if I single him out.

Other choices would include Radio 1 (despite the fact that it's run by the good old BBC), men's hairdressers - where they usually have Radio 1 or a nauseating local radio station playing - I hate the image consciousness of them. And finally, people who constantly use the word 'cool' and seem to think it makes them 'cool'. If Keane hadn't left MUFC I'd be throwing in egregious McAvoy too.

It's probably better, for my own sake that I don't appear on the show.

Desert Island Discs Meditation

I spent about two hours just listening to music in my room today. (How terribly delinquent!) There are certain pieces of music that I find particularly moving and sometimes I try to imagine sitting in a large church building filled with such music reverberating around its great spaces. It seems to make the music more majestic. Why do we spend so much time in church singing nice little songs and so little time listening to really majestic music?
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I'm not just talking about big classical opus's (spelling?) Apparently, John Peel was most moved by The Undertones' Teenage Kicks - it takes all sorts. For me, Canon takes some beating, the sound of the cello makes me think of a mountain going for a walk. Other favourites include Little Wing by Jimi Hendrix and a Spanish song called La Flaca - the fact that I don't understand the words seems to help. I'm not sure I'd like to share what they mean to me, though.
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If I had Powerpoint, and knew how to use it, I guess I'd try to put together a meditation using such music and accompanying images - like someone trying to make a music video I guess. This would probably ruin it for others; having my ideas imposed onto music that they otherwise like. Nevertheless, maybe there's a place for it, for those who, like myself, might be allergic to other forms of meditation. Maybe a process of listening followed by reflection in small groups. I'll have to try to get involved with one of the churches nearby and gain enough influence to start something off.

Poetic Genius?

Ok, I don't really want to keep stringing you on re. the previous post (especially as no one seems to be very interested) so, I'll tell you what's going on.
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A few years ago I bought one of those speech-recognition-software programs. Unfortunately, despite giving it some voice training, it never seemed to understand my muttering very well. In fact, it was almost impossible, sometimes, to see the relationship between what I said and what appeared on screen. Then, in a moment of inspiration, it occured to me the other week that this random element might bring some amusement to my blog.
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So, I thought I'd give you a challenge. To be fair, I think it was incredibly difficult but maybe some of you got it and were too modest to say. The verse was the first of John's gospel. That, in itself, wouldn't be all that difficult except that I dictated it in Greek while the software was expecting English. Maybe those of you familiar with the Greek of John 1:1 will recognise some of the sounds, if not the words.
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Perhaps, next time I compile a crossword, I'll devise devious cryptic clues and then get someone to translate and read them in Finnish through the filter of Via Voice. That would be a tough one wouldn't it!
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Apart from John 1:1, I read the words of a couple of songs and a well known nursery ryhme (in English) into it too, to see what would happen. Below I have pasted the nursery rhyme - which I read several times with different accents to see what would happen - I think you'll recognise it fairly quickly. Bizarrely enough, some of the phrases that come out sound quite poetic. [I wouldn't be surprised if Thom Yorke (of Radiohead) is sat at a computer somewhere right now saying, 'pot noodle, Dairylea slices, mini cheddars, spam, alphabetti spaghetti, cup-a-soup, kimchi...' And on the screen it says, 'Shot a poodle, despairing suicide, clam all sweaty span yeti, karma-group becoming itchy...]

And did up the gangway wall
Her Auntie Dante had agreed Paul
Walking sources are not all Kingswear
And parties together again

Hunted 20 of the report
Wanted Conti other grateful
Walking sources of Larkin's men
Conquer a haunted together again

Didn't hear the Greek War all
Didn't hear the greed for
The walking sources will Kinsman
Couple wanted you very hen

Wanted to and hear the crowd all
Korma wanted to empty the great fall,
Or looking sources Hawking's then
Until quantity of Odeon.

Wanted on to higher rate floor
Calmer hearted Auntie has a rate far
Ham or markings harshest part expense
Cumber Humpty together a gap.

Didn't you decretal
And didn't he decreed for
All the king's horses and all the kings may
Curzon for to Humpty together trickier