Merry Sproutmas…!

For Alex and Mike…

This year, for the first time in living memory, the Winter Solstice coincides exactly (in fact, to the minute) with the (as yet) little-known celebration of Sproutmas: where we commemorate the budding of the Monster Sprout; and remind ourselves of our gemmiferous saviour’s miraculous creation story.

Today’s lesson is therefore taken from the first chapter of The Book According to Cranberry (an arguable source, admittedly) –

1. In the recipe was the Sprout, and the Sprout was with Chestnut, and the Sprout was Chestnut.
2. The same was in the ingredients with Chestnut.
3. All things were cooked by her; and without her was not any thing cooked that was cooked.
4. In her was taste; and the taste was the feast of diners.
5. And the feast smelleth in the kitchen; and the cooker-hood extracted it not.
6. There was a chef sent from Chestnut, whose name was Floyd.
7. The same came for a toasting, to raise toasting of the Feast, that all diners through him might be satisfied.
8. He was not that Feast, but was sent to raise toasting of that Feast.
9. That was the true Feast, which feasteth every diner that cometh into the restaurant.
10. He was in the restaurant, and the restaurant was made by him, and the restaurant knew him not.
11. He drank unto his socks, and his socks carried him not.
12. But as many as carried him, to them gave he menus to become the fans of Chestnut, even to them that believe on her name:
13. Which were cooked, not with sauce, nor of the turkey of the flesh, nor of the bill of diners, but of Chestnut.
14. And the Sprout was made festive, and eaten among us (and we beheld her greenness, the greenness as of the only pistachio of the Nut), full of relish and flavour.

Thanks be to Chestnut. Worship the Sprout.

Wall of separation – true humility…(Part 2: “Parts of it are excellent”)

The Clouds that gather round the setting sun

Do take a sober colouring from an eye

That hath kept watch o’er man’s mortality;

Another race hath been, and other palms are won.

     Thanks to the human heart by which we live,

     Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears,

     To me the meanest flower that blows can give

     Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.

– William Wordsworth: Ode; Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood

For a short while, I lived very near to Terry Pratchett (“in the next village along,” as they say): but, never, as far as I know, passed close by him, or espied him in the cloisters or close of the cathedral we both loved (my photographs of which have illustrated some of this series of posts, as above). His writings, though – and his recent increasingly close relationship with Death: now, of course, brought to its inevitable (although far too early) conclusion (“AT LAST, SIR TERRY, WE MUST WALK TOGETHER”) – were always not just entertaining, but inspiring and educational, as well, for me. There was a deep, lightly-worn intelligence behind those gleaming glasses that would not be defeated by any cruelty this world could inflict on him. A man truly aware of his own strengths and weaknesses, I think: who returned Death’s gaze with a steady stare; and, thankfully, we are told, died what we are supposed to call an “easy” death (which is never such: even when it provides relief to the sufferer, those who are left behind inherit an everlasting pain…).

Recently – and which accounts for the gap in posts (and, believe me, I find it very hard, now, not to write; now that the authorial genie has escaped cheekily from its bottle of single malt…) – I too have had intimations of my own mortality (although nothing as serious as Sir Terry’s: just enough to remind me that I am human, and certainly no ‘supercrip’): and can therefore understand more readily why, for many people, such “intimations” provoke a desire for increased meaning in their short lives and the awful world they find themselves in; as well as prompting yearnings for what may lie beyond – why, in a nutshell, religions are born; how creation myths and figures in the night sky emerge… – are we really nothing more than “a flat disc balanced on the backs of four elephants which, in turn, stand on the back of a giant turtle”?

¶

I ended my last post – over a week ago – writing that “without religion the human race would be considerably worse off and there would be little hope for the future.” This is from a book provocatively entitled Is Religion Dangerous? by Keith Ward: who concludes, of course, that it isn’t – although, being a priest, you could say that he’s slightly biased. You will have to read the book yourself to see if you agree, though, that he does a pretty good job of being objective (more so, to my mind, than Richard Squawkins has ever been… – although see “bombastic pontifications”, below).

However, although religion is not where I find my solace (unless you include its buildings and music) – for me that lurks in good books; Wordworth’s “setting sun”; the kindness of strangers; the hesitant transformation of a mild winter into a wind-chilled spring; the serendipitous conversations that pull various parts of your life closer together in a fortunate net of hopes-made-tangible; the hesitant footsteps alongside the Avon as the swans, geese, ducks and coots prepare noisily for the next generation, despite the stinging rain, and the gormless lump of humanity that giggles at their antics standing far too close by (but offering no crumbs nor crusts of sustenance in consolation…) – I understand, and have no problem whatsoever with, those who do.

Surely, we say, glancing at the eclipse, life must have more significance than a mere blink of the universe’s eye (and a blink, at that, which may simply be to remove the discomfiting grit of which we are made). And ask: Do we have a rôle to play? Is there free will? Does anything we do actually matter? Does our vote make any real difference… – especially in an election where we keep being told that there won’t be an outright winner…?

(By the way, in their letter, the bishops warn against such despair: urging us all to vote in the General Election – “Unless we exercise the democratic rights that our ancestors struggled for, we will share responsibility for the failures of the political classes. It is the duty of every Christian adult to vote, even though it may have to be a vote for something less than a vision that inspires us.” A perfect summation, I think….)

In response to those questions, I challenge you to read, say, Rupert Brooke’s Dust and then tell me that any such life (again, too short) with the potential to create such wonderful poetry is unimportant; or listen to Vaughan Williams’, or Nielsen’s, or Beethoven’s fifth symphonies; or stand in the centre of the Rollright Stones at dawn; and tell me that any human life isn’t the most valuable creation possible…. As individuals, we can be great – even if only to our immediate family and friends (which is miracle enough) – but, together, especially, we have the ability, the power, to change the world we live in both for good and for bad. That is the value, the sacred gift, that we have been given. And we should use it wisely. (If only….) It also means, of course, that we, as individuals, should all be listened to by our “neighbours”….

¶

Whatever is true, whatever is honourable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

So allow me to digress – slightly – for a moment. (Just for a change.)

A couple of days ago, I was informed that the Planning Inspector had said “no” (huzzah!) to Gladman’s proposed development on Oxhill Road, and refused their subsequent appeal. (And yet, at the time of writing, I see no emails flying around the village; nor parades marching down Main Street.) Although this, in my Lenten tribulations, obviously raised my spirits a little, and made me realize that the battles the village had fought along the way had proved my supposition, above; I also know that, in fighting those battles, we, as villagers, had sadly demonstrated both of our “good and bad” sides: with infighting (or, more correctly, insurrection) caused by the overgrown egos and immature self-beliefs characteristic, depressingly, of many political activities.

[126] The advice of St Paul in his letter to the Philippians [above] may help to defend us against the temptations of apathy, cynicism and blame, and instead seek – because we are disciples of Jesus Christ who long for a more humane society – a better politics for a better nation.

It is not my place to solve such an issue (although I can listen to the bishops, and then provide ‘encouragement’ so to do…) – despite a continuing strong urge to bang certain thick, disruptive heads together – although I will say (as I have said many times before) that, as a village, we could (and should) have simply stood on our obvious merits, heads held high, and trusted those already responsible for such fights – i.e. the Parish Council (PC) – and supported, rather than hindered, them.

We did not need to raise voices, polish swords, dust off cudgels. Instead of caring for the village (the original motivation, some eighteen or so months ago, for residents’ gatherings and efforts; and the production, back then, of – possibly – the only bulletproof defence required) – as the members of the PC obviously do – there were those who it would not be unfair to accuse of caring more for the sounds of their own bombastic pontifications. Politicians manqué, if you will. Some of them may have had good intentions; but, it appears to me, these few have been led astray (although, of course, should have known better…) by those who think a big old house gives them droit du seigneur over the rest of us mere peasants (especially those whose modern hovels were obviously not built out of ironstone by medieval vassals).

I do not want ‘my’ village ruled or overseen by such people – as the church once was and did – I want it governed collegiately: where everyone is given the opportunity to feel, and be, involved (and not just by belatedly dropping a slip of paper through the door: with no obvious means of return…); and certainly not one where the parish magazine seems to exist just to be unjustifiably spiteful, nasty and vitriolic about people who the author disagrees with, or who he or she feels to be beneath them. (They must be looking through the wrong end of the telescope.)

Is this truly what we as a parish have become? How does this make us appear to those who walk and cycle through this glorious countryside? Visitors must think we have all just emerged from the back door of Cold Comfort Farm; or have not moved on since Akenfield was first published. They must be astonished that we are not all chewing on stalks of hay.

¶

Despite its many shortcomings, to me, the church – and, indeed, many religious organizations – have democracy better ‘sorted’: especially in their regular meetings (and not just to worship) at all levels. Take, for instance, my favourite: Quakerism (where atheists and agnostics are welcome). Nothing is done without the agreement, “at all levels”, of every member. And, although this can mean that drying emulsion looks exciting by comparison, it also means that they are the perfect model of self-government – and one, as a village, we would do well to emulate. Otherwise, we will remain unduly shaped by external forces; rather than – as the (I increasingly believe unnecessary) Neighbourhood Plan is supposed to do – designing and building our own future: and being united as we do so.

To (try and) keep the religious theme going, the connection intact: I suppose what I would hope for is a reversion to ‘first principles’: similar to the initial, pure rules of the Cistercian order of monks, rebelling against the increasingly greedy and corrupt Benedictine brotherhood from which they split in the late eleventh century; or the Dominican and Franciscan friars who followed them, repudiating all personal possessions… – that is (in an extremely roundabout fashion), returning to what the village as a whole thinks is ideal, important, worthy; not just a self-appointed few, ‘in it’ for the power.

Perhaps this is naïve? I certainly seem to have typed that word a lot, recently. But, having shown, in January, last year, just how united the village can be, under threat; I believe it can come together, in the same way, for positive purposes, again – given the opportunity. I have a dream… – and it is one where every resident of the village helps develop, and shares in, a joint vision of our future; and actively takes part in developing that vision, where and when they can. And is not stifled by either jealousness, ignorance, or arrogance.

¶

So what does that have to do with Who is my neighbour? you may ask. Well, just about everything.

[101] But who counts as “we”? It is impossible to ignore the question “who is my neighbour?” It is a question familiar to anyone who has ever picked up a New Testament….

[102] In the gospel, the question “who is my neighbour?” led Jesus to recount the parable of the Good Samaritan. Jesus makes two subtle points, first calling people to follow the example of the Samaritan, the foreigner who went to the aid of the wounded traveller; and secondly, answering the question by suggesting that neighbourliness may mean receiving care from a member of a despised social group. Neighbourliness, then, is not just about what we do for others. It is also about what we are willing to receive from those we fear, ignore or despise.

Do you know your neighbour? (And I don’t just mean your literal neighbour – as the bishops also intimate.) How well? Do you know how they feel about the village’s future; the importance and relevance of the Neighbourhood Plan to them; or are they simply too busy getting on with the increasing complexity and austerity that most of us (who don’t live in “a big old house”, for whatever reason) face in our daily lives? Do they love living here; have they lived here long; and/or do they begrudge the long daily commute to their place of employment? Do they worry about their children’s ability to stay in the village; the affordability of local housing; that we are so environmentally unfriendly in our high consumption of fossil fuels to heat our homes, and feed our cars, that their grandchildren’s lives will be blighted by our inaction; the fact that it is nigh impossible to find a bus that can get you to and from work, if you can’t afford a car in the first place; or get you to the Job Centre on time?

[123] This letter is about building a vision of a better kind of world, a better society and better politics. Underlying those ideas is the concept of virtue – what it means to be a good person, a good politician, a good neighbour or a good community. Virtues are nourished, not by atomised individualism, but in strong communities which relate honestly and respectfully to other groups and communities which make up this nation.

[124] Strong communities are schools of virtue – they are the places where we learn how to be good, how to live well and how to make relationships flourish. They build on the traditions through which each generation learns its national, local and family identity. Virtues are ways of living that can be learned, but which too many trends in recent decades have eroded.

Well, the bishops’ letter discusses most of these things (as you have seen) – and in a way that doesn’t try to score points; that does its best to be inclusive and thoughtful; that shows that it cares about each and every one of us – even if we don’t share their faith. Having read through most of the major political parties’ websites, as well, the Church of England stands out as unique in having a truly moral backbone; and, despite my atheism, I would rather vote for them than any political organization. Why? Because they so obviously care – and, as I said above, that “care” appeals to me because it is for all of their ‘flock’, equally, rather than simply one “hardworking” part of it; and it is not “for the sounds of their own bombastic pontifications”. They therefore lead by example: showing just what is absent from our tawdry, hostile, debasing politics (both nationally and locally); and why those in power must (or should) feel utterly embarrassed and belittled by the Church’s much-needed intervention. (Oh, how “those in power” must sympathize with Henry VIII. “Bring me a glass of water, Cromwell – I’m going to dissolve the monasteries.”)

It is just a shame, that like most front-page news, the letter has quickly vanished from the media: to be overtaken by more important matters, such as Ed’s two kitchens.

¶

But you don’t have to be religious to think like this. Surely, I am proof of that…? (By the way, the obverse also applies: sadly, not all religious people truly care….)

I therefore ask three things of you. Firstly, whatever your religion, sit down, over the long Easter weekend, with a cup of tea or coffee, and read what the bishops have to say, please. Secondly, think what part you play in the village – could that rôle be widened and made more effective: either by expanding what you do; or by getting others, with divergent views and backgrounds, to help? Then, whatever your conclusions, put those thoughts on endless ‘repeat’; and never assume that what you are doing is either right or enough. Finally, next time you see your neighbour, say “Hello”, and with a smile on your face…! Thank you.

Being right is not the same as being righteous…. (Righteousness is usually a quality seen in people who are a pain in the arse.)

– Deborah Orr: The Guardian

Wall of separation – housing…

For thou art an holy people unto the LORD thy God: the LORD thy God hath chosen thee to be a special people unto himself, above all people that are upon the face of the earth.

– Deuteronomy 7:6

Having ‘reasoned’ in the previous post in this series that the Green Party were the Almighty’s “chosen” – or, at least, to my atheistic way of thinking, more in tune with God’s earthly, Anglican representatives than the other major political parties – I wanted to return to my original objective: of trying “to delve deeper into [the House of Bishops’] letter… examining… some of its statements and manifold themes; and the way these contribute… to my feelings about, perspectives on, and connections to, current politics” – but, this time, attempting to ascertain how some of the Green’s published policies specifically relate to the statements made by the Church of England: hopefully proving my supposition correct (or at least “reasonable”)!

So, having already discussed environmental issues, I thought it logical to move on to housing – with an emphasis on its social dimensions (which are also the bishops’ principal concerns) – especially as the sustainability aspects – having initiated this blog just over fifteen months ago; and informed many of its earlier posts (because of its centrality in the fight against Gladman Developments) – have already been dealt with in great depth (and at great length).

By the way, the main reason I will only be discussing, politically, the Green Party’s policies (apart from my blatant bias; and the views I believe they share with the House of Bishops) is that the Conservative Party doesn’t appear to be very good at sticking to its promises; nor understanding the true definition of ‘localism’; and the Labour Party seems overly keen on fabrication, fabrication, fabrication – just for the sake of it. (And I can’t remember who the LibDems are.)

The Tories have had five years in Government to come up with something less divisive and disastrous than encouraging unaffordable, unsightly, sun-blocking tumescences rising like bubos across London’s incurable, infected skyline: gleefully descending into planning hell via the rickety helter-skelter that they constructed on the foundations of the short-sighted sweetener of the 1980 Housing Act (when Margaret Thatcher – aided and abetted by Michael Heseltine – introduced what Owen Hatherley has described as “The sinister right-to-buy housing policy”). But, as Caroline Lucas, the Green Party MP recently stated: instead, they “have overseen some of the most brutal cuts, to the most vulnerable people, meted out in modern history.” I shall therefore be giving them no shrift whatsoever.

¶

In Who is my neighbour? – a title which feels immediately germane, if not essential, to this post’s topic – the bishops, in their accompanying guide, first focus on paragraphs 50 and 51, from the section ‘A Community of Communities’ (the phrases and sentences they cite are again highlighted in bold, below). But I’m also including the preceding paragraph because of the importance I too (repeatedly) place on its companion theme: the significance of a genius loci, and our attachment to it:

[49] It would be easier for people to forge strong social bonds if we could recognise that a sense of “place” helps to form people’s identity in community. Information technology may mean that physical presence is no longer necessary for many purposes. This has often been positive, and has made many kinds of human interaction easier. But people cannot so easily be uncoupled from the geographical spaces they inhabit.

[50] People are not so much divorced from place as seeking a place where they can be most at home. Following the great rehousing boom of the 1950s and ’60s, numerous studies explored the effect of dislocation on people and communities. Strong social bonds, forged in the adversity of poor housing, frequently did not translate to the new estates, despite their better conditions. And today, attempts to address the shortage of suitable housing will create new problems if they neglect people’s attachment to particular places and the social networks they create there.

[51] The Church of England has always had a strong commitment to place through the parish system. We are present in every community of England. We therefore see day by day how important “place” is to all kinds of people. Social policies which assume that everyone is happily mobile and footloose miss the crucial point that “place” is not just about territory but about informal networks which people build to make life sociable, neighbourly and worth living. Policies which are careless of this attachment to place do not serve people well.

Additionally, in the section ‘Strengthening institutions’, they write:

[83] …Housing Associations work best when there is “buy in” from a broad social spectrum. They are institutions with a strong unifying potential.

[84] We are living through both a banking crisis and a housing crisis….

Perhaps because it is more of a concrete (hmm) subject, limited to certain undertakings – unlike disability, and the environment – the bishops do not stray beyond these two sections: and there is no specific mention, elsewhere in their letter, of “homelessness”, for instance.

¶

In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.

– John 14:2

Sadly, God’s will isn’t yet “done in earth, As it is in heaven” – and there appear not to be enough “mansions” here to satisfy demand. This “housing crisis” – at least under the current rules of the richer rich versus the poorer poor that fuel its existence – therefore shows no signs of abating; and, unfortunately, in their letter – understandably – the House of Bishops proffer no solution. I have written before, however, about the primary school mathematics that would make this an ostensibly simple problem to crack (thereby removing that “understandably” from the prior sentence):

…there is actually more than enough housing to go round – at least for the moment. Not only in the UK (which has more than 700,000 empty homes); but in the rest of Europe, too (with more than 11 million empty, in total – “enough to house all of the continent’s [4.1 million] homeless twice over”).

     …the reported lack of available homes [is a terrible problem] that is – I am told – at the root of the carpet-bombing of proposals to cover our green fields with swathes of unsuitable, unsustainable, identikit boxes: with a legislated proportion being ‘affordable’ to almost no-one that would qualify for their residence, or actually needs them to live in….

But, of course, it isn’t really as straightforward as simply parachuting families or individuals in need of accommodation into those empty properties. Even if they are rendered habitable, they are unlikely to satisfy most “people’s attachment to particular places”; or complement readily-available employment opportunities. Then, of course, there is the contentious matter of affordability (either to purchase or to rent – the latter fragilely combined with security of tenancy) – which the Greens describe as “a basic human need” [policy HO101] – and the fact that 80% of an extortionate rent (often calculated behind closed doors) is still “an extortionate rent” – however generous such a legal definition may appear to its wealthy proponents. (The perspective from on high is always skewed.)

In rural locations such as Tysoe, this problem is aggravated by a “change to planning rules slipped through by communities and local government secretary Eric Pickles at the end of last year, [meaning] that affordable housing no longer has to be part of the mix on small-scale developments… at a time when [Hastoe, the biggest single provider of affordable rural homes in England] is receiving calls from parish councils every week asking for affordable homes to be built in their villages.”

¶

What is lacking here, I believe, is a set of meaningful connections between all of these requirements (needs and wants) – which I believe can be supplied by understanding and appreciating the original intentions behind the development of social housing (we do not all need to be homeowners): whether that be almshouses; council houses; or, perhaps most appositely, workers’ villages – such as the stunning Port Sunlight; or, more locally, beautiful Bournville. This latter example, of course, was informed by the Quaker beliefs of the Cadbury brothers: and therefore followed on, in essence, from the provision of almshouses – which were usually provided by religious orders (and usually Christian) with a real, pragmatic desire to support those less fortunate (in the same way that Sikhs now feed the homeless – of all faiths). It is also proof that caring for your workers (as governments should care for their constituents…) is beneficial to both employer and employee – as any fule kno. And yet this appears to be a fact that we are incapable (through reason and/or greed) of grasping in our zero-hours world.

Returning to the Green Party – the ‘Background’ section of their Housing policy similarly states…

[HO104] Commonly owned and social housing includes: housing owned and/or managed by local authorities, housing provided by or managed by housing associations primarily funded by the Housing Corporations, and co-operative and CoHousing projects. The emphasis must be on local provision for local needs, more decentralised forms of housing management, and the empowerment of tenants.

…which, to me, begins to pull together those “meaningful connections”. However, they are not as non-judgmental as the bishops when it comes to their views of housing associations – even though their concerns and posited ‘solutions’ are, I think, extremely similar (the Greens are considerably more detailed, as you would expect; and, of course, look to future solutions – whereas the House of Bishops limit themselves, mostly, to outlining the zeitgeist):

[HO105] Housing associations are potentially effective providers of housing to rent. However, in their present forms they are deeply flawed. In particular in financial decisions which affect rent increases they are answerable to private investors. They must be democratised, with a fundamental shift of power in favour of tenants and increased accountability to the local community, aided by reduction in size.

[HO106] Housing Co-ops should be encouraged as effective providers of low cost housing with good participation by tenants. Some housing co-op principles would be well taken on board by local authorities and housing associations. However a true housing co-operative is co-operatively owned not just co-operatively managed and is in a position to use any assets to support the development of more co-operatives.

¶

You could argue (as do housebuilders, of course; and, almost unbelievably, the Labour Party, still Tory-lite in their approach…) – despite the availability of sufficient existing, empty properties – that we simply aren’t building enough (and failing to do so by a huge margin – probably calculated using the same greed-propelled “mathematics” that the Core Strategy housing supply is based on…). I would only go so far as to agree with that argument by tagging the emotive words “council houses” on at the end (and then only in the right locations – i.e. where there is employment; where there is family; where there is a deep connection to the land, to “place”). But, as we have seen, there can be problems with rented social housing when handed over to the private sector, or made available for sale.

Realistically, though, a mixture of publically- and privately-funded accommodation is probably the only way forward. And, despite the incontrovertible fact that a small, fluffy bunny dies every time a noddy-house is built; and my non-Nimby heart breaks at every single tiny despoilment of the English countryside; I accept – as the residents of Tysoe did in their briefing paper against Gladman, Sustainable Tysoe? – that we – as a village; as a district; as a county; as a country – “must evolve and grow”.

The Green Party’s desire to provide housing in large numbers therefore is described in terms much more nuanced than Ed Miliband’s eager “non-stop drive to build” – propelled, as it is, by the “real, pragmatic desire to support those less fortunate” and the “social dimensions” discussed above:

We want to build half a million more homes, available at social rent levels, funded both by a change in tax-relief for landlords and by fully lifting the artificial restrictions on councils borrowing against their assets.

     We estimate it will cost an extra £4.5bn a year. This would be a major investment in a national asset, which would create jobs and stabilise the economy. The policy is radical, it is different, but it is fully costed….

– Natalie Bennett: The Guardian

Although this discussion was at the centre of Natalie Bennett’s much-vaunted “brain fade”, it doesn’t make the Green Party’s approach – demonstrated most clearly by their policy section entitled ‘Local Authorities’ – any less valid:

[HO403] The Green Party believes in public ownership under the control of elected representatives as part of mixed provision for social housing. Council housing and the secure tenure it affords is an essential form of social housing provision. National Government must ensure adequate and good quality council housing stock is retained and provided by every local authority. It should also ensure that sufficient funding is available to councils for the provision of effective repairs and maintenance services.

However, I think that a large portion of this funding could also originate from “modifications to Council Tax” (Green Party policy HO607) – for example: “creation of new Council Tax bands above H to ensure that as property values get progressively higher so does the tax paid on them; [and] reform of the multiplier rates applied to the bands, to make the tax paid more proportionate to the value of the house” – which would result in increased local government funding; rather than Labour’s proposed Mansion Tax: the revenue from which would go straight into central government’s coffers. Now, that can’t be right….

¶

But by an equality, that now at this time your abundance may be a supply for their want, that their abundance also may be a supply for your want: that there may be equality…

– 2 Corinthians 8:14

Because it affects us all (either in its provision or lack), there is so much more that could be said – both politically and theologically – about housing, planning, architecture: but I am writing a blog, not a book (although I have made my view on these subjects quite clear many a time – just click on those links…). Personally, though, if you want to dig deeper – especially into the social and economic aspects – I would recommend Danny Dorling’s devastating All That Is Solid – which investigates that outwardly commonplace (certainly calm, to all appearances) statement from Who is my neighbour? that “We are living through both a banking crisis and a housing crisis”:

Housing was at the heart of the financial collapse, and our economy is now precariously reliant on the housing market [and] is the defining issue of our times. Tracing how we got to our current crisis and how housing has come to reflect class and wealth in Britain, All That Is Solid radically shows that the solution to our problems – rising homelessness, a generation priced out of home ownership – is not, as is widely assumed, building more homes. Inequality… is what we really need to overcome.

I would be very suprised if both the Green Party and the House of Bishops hadn’t studied this book intensely.

Wall of separation – environment…

And I brought you into a plentiful country, to eat the fruit thereof and the goodness thereof; but when ye entered, ye defiled my land, and made mine heritage an abomination.

– Jeremiah 2:7

If the plethora of homogeneous portraits of a neatly-bearded Jesus are anything to go by – you know the ones: at the centre of stained-glass windows; coloured Catholic effigies; in Ladybird books… – the fading phenomenon that is ‘hipsterism’ didn’t originate in Shoreditch, in the 1990s; nor even in the 1940s, in America; but in downtown Nazareth, sometime around the year dot.

However, this doesn’t mean that there’s been the corresponding solid ecological patrimony you might expect (just the opposite, sadly…) at the sacred heart of organized western religion for the last two thousand years; nor that we particularly equate the church (more specifically, its ‘modern’ construct, the Church of England) with environmentalism. (Mind you, we don’t equate it with “a double upside down mocha macchiato with soy – low fat, no fat, no lid [and] make it taste like Christmas too”, either. Well, not really.)

Nevertheless, if the House of Bishops’ pastoral letter Who is my neighbour? is anything to go by, the Church of England is keen to make sure it now doesn’t get left behind in the race towards saving (what’s left of) our “green and pleasant land” – undoubtedly one of the many reasons Iain Duncan Smith (despite, or because of, his oft-boasted “Catholic background”?) rapidly attempted to bully yet another typically soft target he thinks(?!) won’t fight back. Methinks he may be in for a shock…

If the responses of the media and the PM are typical of our political culture, it is unfit for purpose. Thoughtful reflections on the electorate’s disengagement are conjured into party political statements to be rubbished on party political terms. Seemingly, the church’s views matter enough to raise alarm.

– Malcolm Brown: Director of Mission and Public Affairs for the Church of England

¶

Perhaps it’s because we are so divorced from the natural world that we consider ourselves immune to the damage we inflict. As the Indian proverb says: “When you drive nature out of the door with a broom, she’ll come back through the window with a pitchfork.”

– George Monbiot: The Guardian

When even the Labour party’s Protecting our environment election ‘issues’ webpage – “A Labour government will re-establish Britain as a global leader on climate change” (which almost sounds like it’s going to try and increase pollution and levels of carbon dioxide and methane…) – has no mention of alternative power sources, but instead leads with criticism of “fun and optimistic guy” Dave ‘Hug a Husky’ Cameron’s only slightly more feeble, flood-diluted policies; and the Green party is struggling both with credibility questions and “discovering that the road from being, in effect, a pressure group that puts up candidates to being a party with real ambitions can be punishing”; I am both gratified and grateful that there is still an established, public-facing organization that has the confidence to talk openly and urgently about one of the most pressing problems we have to confront. (Frankly, the planet can just about look after itself; and will recover – or re-emerge in a different form – once we have disappeared in a large puff of smoke of our own making. But, as a species of temporary inhabitants, we are rapidly approaching the point of no return with regards to our own viability.)

According to its own guide and thematic groupings, below are the sections that the House of Bishops highlighted under ‘Environment’ (in bold – although, as before, I have expanded their extracts to show how they fit within the complete numbered paragraphs):

[2] Followers of Jesus Christ believe that every human being is created in the image of God. But we are not made in isolation. We belong together in a creation which should be cherished and not simply used and consumed. This is the starting point for the Church of England’s engagement with society, the nation and the world. All that we say here follows from this. Anglicans do not have a single view on which political party has the best mix of answers to today’s problems. As bishops we support policies which respect the natural environment, enhance human dignity and honour the image of God in our neighbour.

[27] It is vital to find better ways of talking about many fundamental questions facing us today. To name only a few of the major questions which contemporary politics seems determined to avoid, we need a richer justification for the state, a better account of the purposes of government, and a more serious way of talking about taxation. Most of all, we need an honest account of how we must live in the future if generations yet to come are not to inherit a denuded and exhausted planet.

[117] People will commit to the long term if they have a stake in it. Intergenerational justice depends upon sharing power and decision making now. By enabling people to build a stake in the communities they are encouraged to live, not only for the day, but for their grandchildren’s future – and, on behalf of future generations, to cherish the created order rather than viewing our environment as a commodity to be consumed.

To my mind, the preceding two paragraphs in the letter are also relevant – completing the ‘Our grandchildren’s future’ page:

[115] Our grandchildren’s future, not just the wants of the moment, must be factored into economic and political priorities. When prosperity – and, for the least well off, survival – appears to depend more on luck than merit and when rewards seem divorced from virtue, there is no incentive to invest in a future we will not ourselves enjoy. Why build the foundations of the next generation’s future if it could be swept away by the throw of the economic dice?

[116] This shows why economics must be understood as a moral discipline. A thriving economy needs investors who look to the long term. But when the economy has pursued short term profit and stopped thinking long term, people’s rational behaviour follows suit. It is hard to promote virtuous living when the shape of the economy sends a very different message about human responsibilities.

Reading these, it’s not difficult to see why the supposedly “quiet man” IDS exploded, is it? “Will no-one will rid me of these troublesome priests?!” The Conservatives seem to care as much for the environment, for the long-term future, as they do for the deprived and disabled (and about as much as I care for the Conservatives – ‘care’ is simply Not What They Do (not externally, anyway…)).

¶

There are a couple of other paragraphs worth quoting from, I believe – before I go on to analyse my reactions to, and thoughts on, the bishops’ proclamation. Firstly, judging austerity in the section ‘Debt and a humane economy’…

[109] …Is it sustainable? Have the medium and long-term implications been taken fully into account so that the interests of our children’s and grandchildren’s generations are factored in?

…and, secondly, discussing ‘The campaign ahead’:

[121] We believe that these points are crucial if politics is to rise above its present diminished state. Indeed, we can develop those ideas further. In July 2014, the General Synod debated how the church contributes to The Common Good. That debate suggested some further signs that political policies were moving in the direction which this letter outlines. They included… Reflecting the obligation to secure the common good of future generations, not just our own, and addressing issues of intergenerational justice. This must include a responsible approach to environmental issues.

¶

Returning to the “Indian proverb”, above, that George Monbiot quotes: around here, you would think that it would take real effort to be “so divorced from the natural world”; and yet, as I keep saying (increasing the dent in the nearest wall as I do so), we seem incredibly skilled at taking nature for granted. (Or are we simply taking the micturition: through habitual laziness and instant gratification…?)

So what is to be done to dissuade people from – or penalize them for (as this is where we really need a little proscription) – driving half a mile (or less) to the shop, to collect their morning paper or a loaf of bread; from driving their ill-exercised children short distances to the school or pre-school; or even, astonishingly, from transporting their dog in their 4x4 – which I have witnessed far too many times – to a nearby field for a short walk (and so that their pet can defecate all over some poor farmer’s crops, as well as the local footpaths), as they currently do…?

So, if those of us who live amongst some of the most beautiful and apparently idyllic fields that England has to offer, struggle to engage – for instance, why is there not a row of public electric vehicle charging points in the parking bay that stretches from the Peacock to the Reading Rooms: facilitating the hum of residents on their way to work…? – how do we genuinely and passionately reflect “the obligation to secure the common good of future generations, not just our own, and [address] issues of intergenerational justice”, in all that we do, as prompted by the House of Bishops? (And I don’t just mean rolling out detailed, beautifully-presented research on sustainability when we’re attacked by developers; only to then shove it in the back of a dusty drawer: never to see the light of day again.)

¶

Well, I think together with “prompting” us, the bishops also go some way to providing the answer – and you do not need to believe “that every human being is created in the image of God” (or need to drive to church every Sunday) to subscribe. As they say: to begin with “we need an honest account of how we must live in the future if generations yet to come are not to inherit a denuded and exhausted planet.” To which I would add that we also need an honest account of how we must live now.

Being political issues, though, climate change, as well as how we deal with it, are often discussed in fudged, rhetorical terms – and yet, being also blatantly scientific issues, backed up with incontrovertible evidence, there is nothing equivocal about them. It’s like that lump you can feel on your breast, or on your testicle – you’re frightened of the consequences; and yet you’re also ‘happy’ to let it fester until the time you eventually turn up at the doctor’s: when you’re told it’s too late, and you only have a certain, limited amount of time to live. Is it laziness? Is it embarrassment? Is it a feeling of powerlessness? All of these things can be overcome. Trust me. But not by some eleventh-hour, suddenly-newly-developed miracle cure…. The cost of doing nothing is far, far higher than the cost of doing something. And we’ve known this for years.

Perhaps a better simile might be be realizing that your customary fifteenth gee-and-tee of the night ain’t right. There are, of course, twelve steps for that – and the solution (sorry) is in your hands. This time, though, maybe the ‘cure’ is more psychological than physiological…? Similarly, there are twelve steps that you can work your way through, as an individual, as a household, to do your bit for climate change. Before it’s too late….

And, if we all carried them out (in unison; in harmony) – building “the foundations of the next generation’s future” – and the Government incentivized them with enthusiasm, and sensible economic policies: legislating for reward, penalizing nonconformance, and thereby encouraging us with both carrot and stick “to cherish the created order rather than viewing our environment as a commodity to be consumed” – who knows what might happen…?

Undertake these things community by community (as I have pleaded so many times before – and which, as the Church of England has obviously also realized, is crucial) – ‘gamifying’ those neighbourhoods’, villages’, parishes’, districts’ efforts… – and I believe we’d wake up one morning to find that it hadn’t been quite as difficult as we’d envisaged (and we’d all be sharing cute little Tysoe Energy LLP electric cars, powered by the beautiful, sleek, new Edge Hill windmills…)!

Baby steps for individuals; but requiring a mammoth change in the way politics is practised in this country, if it “is to rise above its present diminished state”. That’s the real stumbling block: simply believing that change can happen; not being frightened of it; and knowing that you can play a part in it.

“We have lost faith in any of the large available understandings of how structural change takes place in history,” the philosopher Roberto Unger said in a recent lecture in London,“and as a result we fall back on a bastardised conception of political realism, namely that a proposal is realistic to the extent that it approaches what already exists.” This is the whole of British politics encapsulated in two lines: unless a policy looks exactly like what the mainstream parties are suggesting; unless it can be funded by minor tootling on existing tax instruments (and even that will be called a “raid”); unless it will leave the fundamental structures totally unperturbed – then it is the most outlandish idea that anybody has ever heard.

     Therefore, nobody in opposition… should ever get into a conversation about how they will fund something without first underlining that the way things exist at the moment is completely wrecked. The status quo is broken; it’s not even static, it’s constantly worsening.

– Zoe Williams: The Guardian

The only way is ethics…

Men fear thought as they fear nothing else on earth – more than ruin, more even than death. Thought is subversive and revolutionary, destructive and terrible; thought is merciless to privilege, established institutions, and comfortable habits; thought is anarchic and lawless, indifferent to authority, careless of the well-tried wisdom of the ages. Thought looks into the pit of hell and is not afraid. It sees man, a feeble speck, surrounded by unfathomable depths of silence; yet it bears itself proudly, as unmoved as if it were lord of the universe. Thought is great and swift and free, the light of the world, and the chief glory of man.

– Bertrand Russell: Why Men Fight: A Method of Abolishing the International Duel

Being an atheist – although not, for goodness’ sake, an evangelical one: who treats such a (dis)belief as an oxymoronic quasi religion (as per DIY) – re-reading the Ten Commandments skit that I posted the other day made me wonder if there were actually any noetic equivalents that could make sense, signify something, to someone like myself: who spends a great deal of his time (for various reasons) simply thinking – but not thinking simply… – just not of any God.

I did find quite a few purported examples online: some self-contradicting; some quite sensible; and some that had arrived from a similar investigation of the self.

And then I realized – d’oh! – especially as I only stated recently that “I have never… been willing to hold my tongue, and simply obey unquestionable orders” (a Bardic ‘commandment’ if ever there was…) – it was highly unlikely, even if I found precepts that made sense to me (as many of those I discovered above did), that I would want to live my life by anything other than my internal moral compass (which probably stems from good parenting and a life trying, hungrily, to understand…) – certainly not by being told what to do, and how. As someone once said – although I don’t know who – “You don’t need religion to have morals. If you can’t determine right from wrong, then you lack empathy, not religion.” (I shall come back to this in a short while.)

¶

Having said all that, I do have a soft spot for Bertrand Russell and his A Liberal Decalogue – “not intended to replace the old one but only to supplement it” –

1. Do not feel absolutely certain of anything.

2. Do not think it worth while to proceed by concealing evidence, for the evidence is sure to come to light.

3. Never try to discourage thinking for you are sure to succeed.

4. When you meet with opposition, even if it should be from your husband or your children, endeavor to overcome it by argument and not by authority, for a victory dependent upon authority is unreal and illusory.

5. Have no respect for the authority of others, for there are always contrary authorities to be found.

6. Do not use power to suppress opinions you think pernicious, for if you do the opinions will suppress you.

7. Do not fear to be eccentric in opinion, for every opinion now accepted was once eccentric.

8. Find more pleasure in intelligent dissent than in passive agreement, for, if you value intelligence as you should, the former implies a deeper agreement than the latter.

9. Be scrupulously truthful, even if the truth is inconvenient, for it is more inconvenient when you try to conceal it.

10. Do not feel envious of the happiness of those who live in a fool’s paradise, for only a fool will think that it is happiness.

– Bertrand Russell: The Autobiography of Bertrand Russell: 1944-1969

– but that may simply be because of his pithy and erudite way with words, and an equivalence of purpose. (I think the marvellous Will Self may be posited as today’s homologue.) They could, however, quite readily form the basis of the principles governing the production of this blog, and therefore my public persona. If nothing else, I want other people to question, to think – and maybe about things they wouldn’t have, otherwise (even reevaluating things that continually stare them in the face…) – when they read my words.

¶

The fundamental cause of the trouble is that in the modern world the stupid are cocksure while the intelligent are full of doubt.
– Bertrand Russell: Mortals and Others

Strangely enough, although Russell puts one of my true guiding principles (one of the principal points on “my internal moral compass”, if you will) at the top of his list – “Do not feel absolutely certain of anything” (captured and expressed beautifully in Forbidden Colours by David Sylvian, as “I’ll go walking in circles While doubting the very ground beneath me Trying to show unquestioning faith in everything” – a mantra I often find myself repeating…) – Russell’s oft-perceived arrogance (or simply the fact that these are adjuncts to the originals…) means that he neglects (or reasonably excludes) its counterpart: probably best expressed in the wisdom of Atticus Finch in Harper Lee’s wonderful, if-you-only-ever-read-one-work-of-fiction-read-this-one, To Kill a Mockingbird –

First of all… if you can learn a simple trick, Scout, you’ll get along a lot better with all kinds of folks. You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view – until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.

You could say, of course – as indeed did George McGovern – that such “Empathy is born out of the old biblical injunction ‘Love thy neighbour as thyself’”; and that many of our laws (both internally and externally administered) have such scriptural origins – particularly this ‘Golden Rule’ or “ethic of reciprocity” – which can be found at the core of many (if not most) faiths and philosophies. But, in truth – to me – this only confirms that such sacred writings have at their hearts definitions of what it is to be ‘good’: a distillation of learned (collective) wisdom and experience (if not our innate altruistic tendencies) that have been encapsulated simply to try and ensure that we all get along.

¶

We all have a tendency to think that the world must conform to our prejudices. The opposite view involves some effort of thought, and most people would die sooner than think – in fact they do so.

– Bertrand Russell: ABC of Relativity

One of the reasons that this hasn’t led to an ideal, peaceful, egalitarian world (yet) – as represented, say, by Gene Roddenberry’s Star Trek utopia – is that some people are born without a capacity for empathy; or have to work harder at developing empathy than others (see here for a meaningful introduction to mirror neurons – especially in relation to autism and theory of mind). And, therefore – even though not everyone accepts that empathy is “a reliable way of doing good” – many (including me) believe it is so key to our existence that it is worth such never-ending hard work; or that it is so crucial to business success, that it can (and should) also be developed corporately – despite the disproportionate number of psychopathic CEOs; and the impression that, to be successful in (modern) government, empathy is actually the last thing you want (which is probably why we’re in such a confounded mess…).

¶

The great majority of men and women, in ordinary times, pass through life without ever contemplating or criticising, as a whole, either their own conditions or those of the world at large. They find themselves born into a certain place in society, and they accept what each day brings forth, without any effort of thought beyond what the immediate present requires. Almost as instinctively as the beasts of the field, they seek the satisfaction of the needs of the moment, without much forethought, and without considering that by sufficient effort the whole conditions of their lives could be changed.

– Bertrand Russell: Proposed Roads to Freedom

Of course, you might find, once your feet are in someone-else’s shoes, that they don’t fit, that what you experience is a deep discomfort, or even pain – a feeling which is brought on by your “own condition”; or, more likely, the shock of a new set of beliefs which are contrary to all you hold dear and true. So how do you then decide which ideology is more legitimate? To whose laws do you refer? Or is it obvious which doctrines are good or bad? (There’s a good reason Bertrand Russell is a famous philosopher, and I am not: although his views on ethics continued to evolve throughout his life.) As a ‘fan’ of both ‘rationalist’ Socrates and ‘sentimentalist’ Hume, I personally agree that “emotion and reason both play critical roles in moral judgment” – but that probably just confirms my own prejudice that both of the two cultures of humanities and sciences are equally valid; and should get together over a pint more frequently.

In silence, an act is an act is an act. Verbalized and discussed, it becomes an ethical problem…

– Aldous Huxley: The Genius And The Goddess

However, in stating this, rather than reaching any sort of conclusion, I seem to have done whatever is the opposite of digging myself into a hole, or painting myself into a corner – opening a can of worms…? – in that I started writing about something particular (and small), and ended up writing about something all-encompassing (and therefore huge, or even infinite). I suppose there is a parallel, though, to be drawn here between those (subjective) rules defined by man, and those (objective) brought about through nature (or even God: should you wish, and have, or believe in, one…) – which I think just about takes me back to where I started.

What do you think…?

The world that I should wish to see is one where emotions are strong but not destructive, and where, because they are acknowledged, they lead to no deception either of oneself or of others. Such a world would include love and friendship and the pursuit of art and knowledge.

– Bertrand Russell: Human Society in Ethics and Politics

Ooh, ooh, my ears are alight…

True satire is not just posturing, in a cosily collusive middle-class milieu, as “anti-establishment”. It is freedom laughing in the face of tyranny. That takes courage of an order demonstrated by the assassinated journalists at Charlie Hebdo, whose slain editor simply stated that he would rather die than “live like a rat”.

– Hugh Hetherington: The Guardian

Free speech comes at a price; it even costs human lives. The bottom line for an open and free democracy seems to me to be that I have to accept that someone, somewhere, sooner or later, will say something that offends me. But I have to live with my feelings, and not assuage them in any violent way at all. In fact, we can all have a “right” to cause offence, if we do not also demand the “right” to take offence too. It is likely that some of those who reject this principle, whatever their religion, or lack of it, will continue to make martyrs of those who practise it.

– Fr Alec Mitchell: The Guardian

Editor’s note
This morning, I received an email purporting to be from a certain Charlie Tyso, and his esteemed colleague Xavier O’Duss. I here quote it in full, for your edification and, I hope, amusement…

And it came to pass on the third day in the evening, at the seventh hour, that there were thunders and lightnings, and a thick clod upon the hill, and the voice of the strumpet exceeding loud; so that all the people that were in the House of Words trembled. And Supposes brought forth the people out of the House to meet with the Great Lord Sod, who must be obeyed in all things; and they stood at the nether part of the hill, in the Parish of Tysoe. And the Hill of Tysoe was altogether in a smoke, because the Great Lord descended from His moated mansion upon it in a rusting diesel 4x4: and the smoke thereof ascended as the smoke of a fire of damp, unseasoned logs, and the whole hill quaked greatly.

And when the voice of the strumpet sounded long, and waxed louder and louder, Supposes spake, and Sod answered him by an angry voice. And the Great Lord Sod graced the mass of people with his almighty presence, coming down upon the Hill of Tysoe, on the top of the hill; and the Great Lord cast his shadow over Supposes and summoned him up to the top of the hill; and Supposes went up. And for Supposes there was much going up, and much going down: because the Great Lord is obeyed in all His contrivances.

And the Great Lord said unto Supposes, Go down, charge the people, lest they break through unto the True Plan to gaze on its reality, and many of them get pissed off thusly: Give them in its stead this Tablet of Sand, which showeth well my Word and its Meaning, even though it appeareth as the Word of Supposes, all guised as the Law of the Land: And let the parish priests also, which dare to approach near to the Great Lord, pacify themselves, lest the Great Lord break forth wind upon them. And Supposes said unto the Great Lord, The poor mass of people, thy humble and obedient servants, cannot come up to the Hill of Tysoe: for thou chargedst us, saying, Set bounds about the hill, and protect it from wind power.

And the Great Lord said unto him, Away, get thee down, and thou shalt come up, thou, and thy servants; those who trade with thee: the candlestick-maker, who stands high with his candles but sheds but little light; and the baker, who produceth humble pies of puff pastry and filled with fluff. But let not the parish priests and the mass of people break through to come up unto the Great Lord, lest it be to dance at His bidding of a summer’s day in the grounds of his moated mansion. So Supposes went down unto the people, and waffled unto them. And they considered that they saw much light in his endless words; and believed those words bright, and gave much praise: although, verily, the words were dull and hollow to their simple minds.

¶

And Sod spake all these words, saying, I am the Lord thy Sod, who knoweth everything, which have brought thee out of the land of Braveheart, out of the house of porridge, and into the mire at the foot of the hill, where floods and pestilence cometh at my whim. Thou shalt have no other Lords before me. Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven bloggage, or any criticism of any thing that is in the Tablet above, or that is in the footnotes beneath, or that is in the water under the earth (even when it rises above the earth): Thou shalt not bow down thyself to mine enemy of mine own making that is Braveheart, nor serve the critic that is but Bardolatry, nor yet even the parish priests: For I the Lord thy Sod am a jealous Sod, visiting the iniquity of all that is written in the Tablet of Sand upon the common mass of people unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me; And shewing insincerity unto the two or three of them that can abide me, and keep my suggestions.

Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy Sod in vain; for the Great Lord will not hold him guiltless that taketh His name in vain. Remember the Tablet of Sand, to keep all that is written therein holey, for it ticketh all the boxes that be in the land: And disavow all that might be espied within any True Plan, lest it bear the false witness of base common people. Six months shalt thou cheweth upon the Tablet of Sand, and be all thy flummoxed at its meaning: But the seventh month is the Referendum of the Great Lord: In it thou shalt not vote “No”, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates; nor thy badger: For in six months the Great Lord manufactureth great policies and rules, through His servant Supposes, as the Tablet of Sand, and all that in it is (and then buggered off to the pub in his 4x4: wherefore the Great Lord blessed the pub, and drained it dry as the sand from which the Tablet was made).

Honour thy compost bin and thy rainwater butt: that thy days may be long upon the New Tysoe which the Great Lord giveth thee, and all the lands therein which He shall order according to His Word that is a fathomless Algorithm. Thou shalt not question. Thou shalt not commit bloggery. Thou shalt not oppose. Thou shalt not bear witness against the Tablet of Sand. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s ironstone cottage. Thou shalt not query thy Supposes’ spreadsheets, nor his solar panels, nor his checklists, nor his calculations, nor his assets, nor any thing that is thy Supposes’, or his servants the candlestick-maker and the baker and all that they serve and that serve unto them. Thy shalt build thy noddy-houses out of stone, and render them identical, as unto ticky-tacky, and exceeding ugly unto the eyes of the Bard.

¶

And all the people saw the thunderings, and the lightnings, and the noise of the strumpet, and the hill smoking: and when the people saw it, they removed, and stood afar off. And they said unto Supposes, Speak thou with us, and we will hear: but let not the Great Lord Sod speak bollocks with us, lest we perish of tedium. And Supposes said unto the people, Fear not: for Sod is come to prove to you the Tablet of Sand is great, and that His fear of censure may be wiped from your trembling faces, that ye oppose not. And the people stood afar off, and Supposes drew near unto the thick darkness where the Great Lord was. And the Great Lord saw that it was good, and saw that the Bravehearts and Bards that slithered upon the face of the earth were as fork-tongued serpents: creatures crafted by the very claws of Beelzebub.

But, lo, even as he understandeth them not, the Great Lord thought mightily that he could smite them from the height of His New Tysoe which bore the yester imprint of His great boot; and trample the serpents’ tongues before and beneath. But he was mistaken sorely. For, verily I say unto thee, he had no true power within or without, except that which the mass of people could remove from him in the twinkling of an iPhone, obliterating the very ground beneath His boot. And the serpents’ words were not as He opined; nor even were they serpents, but mere twine; and their words mere leaves of multitudinous colours, blowing in the winter wind. And when they saw this, the people trembled, and quaked, and spoke many tongues of Babel and Stratfordonavondistrictcouncil.

And then the people, renewed with great hope, girded their loins with vast mornings of coffee, dunkings of biscuit, ravings of music, and growing rumblings of mutiny throughout the parish and in all the places thereof that were increasingly hidden from the Great Lord. And thence the people saw a yet brighter light and rose up with joy, and with it manufactured the True Plan.

At this, the Great Lord raged, giving off a furious roaring as big as to a whining mouse. But the people and the parish priests had grown deaf and blind to the Great Lord Sod. And when the people looketh past the smoke, and behind the glass of looking, that kept shrouded so much and yet so little, the Great Lord was no more to be set eyes upon, verily nevermore, until the end of time. And, in the place of the Tablet of Sand, which crumbleth and vanisheth as it shifteth and moveth with the desert wind, came forth the True Plan which they had made, and bound with the golden twines of Veracity and Desire. And it was good; and truly had concrete meaning unto them all, and even to their neighbours, and the strangers within the parish and without. And the mass of people rejoiced greatly for seven days and seven nights; and went forth sustainably: lo, unto the fifth generation, and the sixth, and for evermore.

¶

Here endeth the lesson. Clays be to Sod. Amen.