Wednesday, 8 July 2020

Alright, but no singing

You may remember me saying that I occasionally buy a few candles from Charles Farris - the ecclesiastical suppliers - because the are very reasonably priced and really good quality. Minimal drips etc, even in draughts.

Given that they supply candles to chapels, churches, monasteries and cathedrals all over Britain (and probably to all the far-flung outposts of the whole of Christendom), I am not what you could call their best customer, but in the true spirit of Christianity they treat me as an equal regardless of my position in the hierarchy of the Anglican Church. I am on their mailing list.

I have been offered some very attractive package deals involving various models of foot operated and wall-mounted hand sanitisers starting at £105 (a saving of £23.19) and going up to £395 (a saving of £24.50). That one has wheels.

I have been very tempted with the foggers on offer too. The biggest will sanitise a large cathedral and has the liquid carried in a back-pack so you can wander around vast spaces freely, but I can't justify it for our compact but adorable city apartment.

Bath Abbey is open for quite prayer or contemplation now and cricket has resumed so long as the players don't spit on their balls. Do that and you lose 5 runs.

I finally replaced the stone lions at Iford Manor yesterday and the man who helped me with the huge forklift put on a rubber carbon filter canister mask before he began.

I asked him if he was worried about diesel fumes, but he said it was for Covid.

For the first time in about 6 months I had completely forgotten about Covid 19. I can't tell you how refreshing that was, but when I remembered the old anxiety came right back and I worried about how close I had got to the others that day. It was nice while it lasted.

Monday, 6 July 2020

Clouds over Milsom Street

It was like seaside weather here yesterday. Even the gulls served a purpose for once.

Sunday, 5 July 2020

I may destroy you.

We've been watching 'I may Destroy You' for the last few nights. It's not what you could call a relaxing watch, but it is sort of compulsive viewing.

Michaela Coel wrote it, directed it and stars in it, so she has been compared to Phoebe Waller-Bridge. I don't think that anyone would compare a man to a man for having made a drama containing similar material, but critics just have to say something which shows that they think about things which they watch, not just enjoy them or not.

One of the reasons I have to see all 11 episodes is because of her face. She has an extraordinarily beautiful one. If she had been a foot taller they probably would have wanted her for a model, but that would have been a waste.

This is beginning to sound like a review now, so I had better leave it at that.

Thursday, 2 July 2020

The moral maze

I despised David Starkey long before his latest attempt at gaining notoriety for himself by saying that slavery was not genocide, '...otherwise there wouldn't be so many damn blacks in Africa or Britain'.

What a cunt lovely man.

Wednesday, 1 July 2020

Stonehenge, 1875

A  photo taken of a family outing at Stonehenge in 1875. It is reckoned to be the oldest photo of the stones in existence. The horse managed to keep nice and still.

Monday, 29 June 2020

Evening Raga

Oh, to hell with politics and the plague. Here are our Night-Scented Socks doing what they do best at full throttle.

Saturday, 27 June 2020

Just a glimpse

Anyone who still does not understand the BLM movement should seek out and listen to Mina Smallman's account  - in full - of how the Metropolitan Police dealt with the murder of her two daughters.

Mina Smallman became worried when she couldn't contact them after they had gone to a party, so about 48 hours later she called the police. After she had given them addresses and names, etc. she became convinced that the police showed very little interest. She also became convinced that this was because she was black. Whether or not this was true is beside the point. The point is that this is what she believed from many different past experiences.

She sent out a small party to search for her daughters, and by the time they reached the scene the police had found the bodies and removed them. The party of friends searched the area and within 10 minutes they had found the murder weapon. It was clear that the police had not even made a preliminary search of the murder scene.

As if this wasn't an unspeakable thing to happen to any mother, a police official turned up to Mina's house to tell her that the two police officers who found the bodies had posed for smiling selfies next to her dead daughters, and then posted the pictures on to others via social media. In Mina's words it was like they were posing with their foot on the body of a dead lion, shot as a trophy.

If you say that these police officers were just two bad apples in the barrel, then you continue to miss the point. The fact that these men thought they could get away with this appalling and disgusting behaviour shows that there is - without doubt - a toxic undercurrent of institutional racism in the Metropolitan Police. They would not have done this with white girls.

Mina Smallman happens to be an eloquent and intelligent woman who can obviously control her grief and anger so well that she was able to give a long and illuminating interview to the BBC without breaking down like most of us would, otherwise this story would surely have been watered-down to protect the reputation of the Met.

I have tried to get the full interview, but so far it is not out there. I really think everyone should hear her to get a better understanding of what it is like to be a black person in modern Britain. It gave me a glimpse.