Blockbusters of Religion.

In the town where I grew up many of the local pubs in the area have closed. Conversely, a number of modern churches of all denominations have opened to the point where there are now more churches than pubs. The Church of England has been bemoaning falling attendances and lack of interest for years but clearly there are still many people wishing to have their souls saved. It seems the C of E is missing the boat.

A church survey from 2005 states that church-going in all categories has declined but the percentage of evangelical worshipers has risen. Now 40 percent of church attendees class themselves as evangelical as opposed to traditionalist Roman Catholic or Church of England. I have friends and family who are ardent churchgoers and I respect their views. I am not religious myself but if I were, I would go to somewhere uplifting and inspiring, not somewhere sombre and doom laden. It's not a problem of doctrine, it's one of marketing.

It seems to me that the old and dusty Church of England leaders are content to sit around arguing points of principle and trying to maintain the status quo while their congregations dwindle in favour of more energetic soul saving. It reminds me of the High Street chain Blockbusters who dominated the video and DVD Market for years but failed to take advantage of their position when streaming came along and consequently went bust. They could have been a market leader up there with Lovefilm and Netflix.   

They have already sold of a number of churches which have turned into pubs and the like. As congregations drop, more churches will become financially unviable and there aren't enough clergy to cover them all anyway. What happens when they decide that the great cathedrals have become too expensive to maintain? Will the government step in and pay for them out of taxpayer's money as part of English Heritage or National Trust? The general trend is towards privatization for whatever the government can unload so they could end up being sold off. What companies would benefit most from huge buildings in the heart of the community? Retail outlets like supermarkets could be front runners.

Fortunately, the Church of England is far from broke so we don't have to worry about York Minster being run by ASDA just yet. A quick scan through the phone book for my local town still shows many more listings for pubs than it does for churches so the spirits of the imbibing kind still hold sway over the spirits of the redeeming kind.

To Bah, or Not to Bah.

'So this is Christmas' sang John Lennon and, sure enough, the great wheel of time has rolled round to the festive season once again. Christmas is as inevitable as death and taxes and every year there is an important dilemma to face' to bah humbug or not to bah humbug, that is the question?

My Dearly Beloved's birthday falls right on top of Christmas. She made it absolutely clear from the start of our relationship that she was having no truck with this joint birthday and Christmas present malarkey. Consequently, we celebrate both days separately which is great as it spreads the festivities over two days. There's no chance of bah humbugging in our Buckinghamshire hideout. 

There are advantages to bah humbugging. You can avoid the blatant commercialism designed to part you from your cash, you won't be disheartened when your goodwill gesture is not reciprocated. It's not going to be a disappointment when your family fall out and ruin the cosy atmosphere. Mostly, you won't be surprised when a Christmas miracle showing the world as a magical place and the essential goodness of human nature doesn't occur. You can enjoy being smug that your cynicism is proved accurate once again. There is a lot to be said for bah humbugging. 

The problem is that is comes around whether you like it or not. You can choose to play along and turn a blind eye to the hypocrisy, or, you can try and ignore the whole thing and hope it goes away as quickly as possible. Fate doesn't take time off during holidays. Nasty things happen at Christmas and some people's festivities are overshadowed by memories of loss and tragedy. Such people can be forgiven for bah humbugging but for most of us there is a choice whether to join in and party or, like the Grinch, go off and hide somewhere.

It seems to me that you get out what you put in. The more effort you make to engage with people the better time you'll have. Christmas is about people, not things. Personally, I think all the shops should be closed boxing day to allow people more time with families but unfortunately, money talks. For all its faults Christmas is fundamentally a good thing and personally, I am glad it comes round, life would be much duller without the brightness of Christmas to punctuate the years. 

Spot Blog.

A couple of days ago I got out of bed to get ready for work in the usual manner. It was a normal day in every respect, except one. I stumbled down the stairs to put the kettle on and then stumbled back up again to the bathroom. That's when I discovered the occurrence  which made this day different from every other; the event which was going to define the day and skew my interaction with my colleagues and general public alike. Overnight, I had grown a huge spot on the end of my nose.

It's okay for the fairer sex, they have all kinds of foundations and concealers to combat facial disfigurement. Whilst they may have a hissy fit for the first 10 minutes, it's not long before the potions and poultices of female alchemy come into play. Manly men have to wear their imperfections with pride so, with the fortitude of Ranulph Fiennes facing an arctic blizzard, I set off into the world with nose aglow. I knew people would be pretending not to notice my radiant schnozzle. These things just aren't spoken about.

People are very touchy about this kind of thing. I once mentioned to a colleague that he had a bit of lunch stuck to his chin. He reacted as if I had just caught him burying his mother in the back garden. First he tried to cover it up, then he became defensive edging towards belligerent before stomping off. The level of embarrassment far outweighed the event. Perhaps that's why people hedge round it with gestures and meaningful looks instead of mentioning it outright.

In one of my previous incarnations jobwise I used to deal with clients face to face. One elderly lady had a large purple growth about the size of a golf ball sprouting from her lip that was a wonder to behold. It didn't seem to bother her and we never discussed it although it had its own aura that pulled your eyes towards it. She must have known people would stare at it and I never understood why she didn't get it removed, but then again, I didn't ask.

Back in the 70s there was a blonde, singer songwriter called Lynsey de Paul. I can't remember any of her songs but I remember her 'beauty spot'. personally I'm not a fan and found it irritating but I expect some people love them. To save Lynsey's  blushes, I've transposed her facial embellishment on to a less well know phizog, What do you think, improvement or not?

The Homer Gene.

I have an affliction. There I am, keeping busy as I generally have at least one project on the go and bimbleing along nicely, things are getting done and I'm feeling upbeat and positive. Then I seem to hit an imaginary wall and run out of steam. For no apparent reason I become lacklustre, demotivated and just can't be bothered. Even the things I enjoy become too much trouble and all I really want to do is eat and drink too much while lazing around watching DVDs. I call this trigger in my head my 'Homer gene'

I have named it after the popular, yellow cartoon character as it seems to mirror his slothful, overindulgent ways. Eating large pizzas until your stomach hurts and washing it down with Duff beer while the fabric of your life collapses around you seems like the way forward. Why waste your time striving, trying to keep fit and chasing rainbows when you could just chill out and hang loose man, what's it all for anyway? This lasts for a couple of days until the guilt kicks in and re-motivates me back to my normal, industrious lifestyle.

It's not depression. I know people with depression and it's nothing like as bad as the crushing, hopelessness true depressives feel. Churchill spoke of his 'black dog' mine's more of a pink Chihuahua. It's not despair, It's can't be arsed, like a really bad duvet day. If it has a scientific name it's probably something like
'Spooner's psychosomatic lassitudinal malaise syndrome'. I doubt that I'm the only person on the planet who suffers from this affliction. For some people it seems to be a career choice.

I'm sure I shall get re-inspired to get off the sofa and do something constructive in the next couple of days but, for now, I'm off to the fridge for another beer and a packet of pork pies while the adverts are on telly. I was going to write more but, quite frankly, I can't be bothered.

PS. This blog is apparently now on newsfeeds across the USA so if my regular commentators could avoid causing any diplomatic incidents it would be appreciated.

The Bogey Man Lives.

I was talking to a police inspector the other day about a seminar he attended on modern policing and what 'protecting the public' actually means. I have to say it was quite disturbing. He didn't tell me anything I didn't already know but once you put the pieces together like a jigsaw, the final picture is unsettling. He was saying that when he joined up it was perceived that there were good guys and bad guys and the good guys locked up the bad guys. Modern thinking says the person sat next to you is the bad guy, not the burglar in the stripy shirt with a bag of swag.

It's a fact that most murders are carried out by people known to the victim, perhaps a relative, partner or acquaintance. Murders by strangers are extremely rare. The same is true of rape, stranger rapes do happen but are very uncommon compared to rapes by offenders known to the victim. The same applies to other types of sexual and violent assaults on both adults and children, there are such people as predatory paedophiles, but they don't become predatory until they have been caught molesting their own children or nephews and nieces and denied access to easy pickings There are a whole range of crimes ranging from blackmail and threats to kill to making indecent images and sexual exploitation where the victim knows the offender.

As for your children, well, they're safe at school. There's a security system and the gates are locked aren't they? Unfortunately, the people most likely to do them harm are locked in there with them. They are more likely to be beaten up, psychologically intimidated' bullied and sexually assaulted by fellow pupils than by random people in the street, even if it happens outside school hours. Everyone has heard of kids going through the most awful trials at school sometimes ending up in suicide but somehow it's just' playground stuff' and doesn't really count. There are drug dealers who hang around outside schools but then again there's Jimmy in year eleven whose older brother can get whatever drugs you want. So who exactly are we locking the gates against?

These offenders are all victims themselves in the modern parlance. The fact that he's six foot tall, built like a tank and just beat you black and blue doesn't mean he's not a vulnerable victim himself and suffering from mental health issues. He's not the bad guy, he's just not getting the appropriate support from the mental health professionals for his anger management issues. It just so happens he is also your uncle,brother, ex-boyfriend or husband.

So how do you protect the public when the enemy is also the victim's friend or relative? It would need a level of intrusion by the police 'behind closed doors' as the saying goes which would never be acceptable to civil liberties campaigners, remember 1984 and Winston's  television which spied on him? How do you stop the trolls on social media sites for example? Perhaps there should be electronic spies monitoring your every update, alternatively, shut it down altogether. It's the old 'with freedom comes responsibility adage. If some people negate their responsibility to their fellow man do you restrict the freedoms of all?

Sorry, no answers, only questions but one thing I do know, the bogeyman does exist but he is not hiding under the bed or in the cupboard, you've been looking in the wrong place.