ME19four: life, faith and role-playing games
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Fahrenheit 451 - or "Book burning at Borders, by and by..."
What ho! Shocking news, old boy. That well-known purveyor of fascist propaganda, Borders, is up to it's beastly old tricks again. Peddling offensive literature about those chaps of a different skin colour, what?
Or put it more simply the Campaign for Racial Equality want to stop us reading Tintin!
I should add at this point that I've never been a great fan of Tintin, but this does seem a tad silly. I'm sure I could, as a consenting adult, buy a copy of Adolf Hitler's Mein Kampf - for all I know it's available as a Penguin Classic - or something by David Irving, who was banged up in Austria not so long ago for Holocaust denial. But to complain, when the offending (and offensive?) book has already been moved into the adult section...
Before you know it they'll be goose-stepping down Whitehall and burning Biggles books for being nasty about the Huns and Noddy books for daring to mention Gollywogs!
Except of course that some re-issues in recent years have bowdlerised Biggles and re-cast Imps for Gollywogs in dear old Blyton's writing...
Or put it more simply the Campaign for Racial Equality want to stop us reading Tintin!
I should add at this point that I've never been a great fan of Tintin, but this does seem a tad silly. I'm sure I could, as a consenting adult, buy a copy of Adolf Hitler's Mein Kampf - for all I know it's available as a Penguin Classic - or something by David Irving, who was banged up in Austria not so long ago for Holocaust denial. But to complain, when the offending (and offensive?) book has already been moved into the adult section...
Before you know it they'll be goose-stepping down Whitehall and burning Biggles books for being nasty about the Huns and Noddy books for daring to mention Gollywogs!
Except of course that some re-issues in recent years have bowdlerised Biggles and re-cast Imps for Gollywogs in dear old Blyton's writing...
(And of course I understand the reasoning of the CRE, and have no objections to careful and sensitive revision to books that might, might I hasten to add, mis-shape the young mind, but there do have to be limits. I'm not sure I totally agree with a statement I came across many years ago, but you will guess that I sympathise with it - "All books are books, and therefore sacred." Now I wonder who wrote that?)
Labels: Grumbles, Life, Recommendations
¶ 12:30 pm 0 comments
Pointless
I heard on the radio the other day that a good dairy was one which was written with no real readership in mind. Just written, whether as an obsession, an aide memoire or as a cathartic activity made no difference. Which just about sinks most political diaries these days, like Alistair Campbell's for example.
It made me wonder a little where blogging fitted in. Blogging, as has been written by far more erudite and thoughtful folks than myself, is a social phenomenon which has exposed the degree to which many normal people write. In blogging, as in so much else of life, I feel like an amateur, that is, when I'm not worried that I'm a fraud and somebody will realise this one day!
This blog, like many others is public. Therefore it is written with at least a degree of expectation that others might read it. Does it then, by the standards of those critics of diarists (above), mean that it has little literary value? Am I, by even posing the question, to be seen as one writing for an audience?
And, of course, if part of the value of a diary comes from writing and sharing those confidential little details that we would not wish to see as matters of public knowledge, should I really admit to being at a very low ebb at present? Perhaps I should save that for the other, anonymous blog. (Which incidentally I have only posted to once, like the previous version I tried a while back. And what does that say about me?! Even more annoying is the fact that I think that the name is, though I should't say so myself, a really good one. It might have to be applied here when I finally move on...)
Back to the initial point of this rambling: I am absolutely wrecked at the moment, both physically and emotionally (spiritually?). It's just been such a roller-coaster over the last few days, what with trip to GPMC and all the thoughts and opportunities stirred up by it, a lost day off and 3 disturbed nights with the children. There have been some wonderful positives, such as the news about Gloranthan canonicity, and a superb time or conversation, prayer and simply being, with Alain, the minister for the Christian Fellowship.
None of which hides the fact that as an allegedly self-employed individual (ask HM Revenue and Customs if you don't believe me!), provided with an income and housing to enable me to "perform my ministry" I could appear to be swanning around doing nothing. In fact I am swanning around doing very little, with minimal motivation and energy. Inspiration for a sermon? Hah, fat chance. No real target and no real overseer. Pretty much a total inspiration failure in fact.
Except that is, when it comes to writing this.
Pointless, and very, very odd.... One definition of sin is "missing the target." Perhaps the real issue is knowing quite what the target is...
It made me wonder a little where blogging fitted in. Blogging, as has been written by far more erudite and thoughtful folks than myself, is a social phenomenon which has exposed the degree to which many normal people write. In blogging, as in so much else of life, I feel like an amateur, that is, when I'm not worried that I'm a fraud and somebody will realise this one day!
This blog, like many others is public. Therefore it is written with at least a degree of expectation that others might read it. Does it then, by the standards of those critics of diarists (above), mean that it has little literary value? Am I, by even posing the question, to be seen as one writing for an audience?
And, of course, if part of the value of a diary comes from writing and sharing those confidential little details that we would not wish to see as matters of public knowledge, should I really admit to being at a very low ebb at present? Perhaps I should save that for the other, anonymous blog. (Which incidentally I have only posted to once, like the previous version I tried a while back. And what does that say about me?! Even more annoying is the fact that I think that the name is, though I should't say so myself, a really good one. It might have to be applied here when I finally move on...)
Back to the initial point of this rambling: I am absolutely wrecked at the moment, both physically and emotionally (spiritually?). It's just been such a roller-coaster over the last few days, what with trip to GPMC and all the thoughts and opportunities stirred up by it, a lost day off and 3 disturbed nights with the children. There have been some wonderful positives, such as the news about Gloranthan canonicity, and a superb time or conversation, prayer and simply being, with Alain, the minister for the Christian Fellowship.
None of which hides the fact that as an allegedly self-employed individual (ask HM Revenue and Customs if you don't believe me!), provided with an income and housing to enable me to "perform my ministry" I could appear to be swanning around doing nothing. In fact I am swanning around doing very little, with minimal motivation and energy. Inspiration for a sermon? Hah, fat chance. No real target and no real overseer. Pretty much a total inspiration failure in fact.
Except that is, when it comes to writing this.
Pointless, and very, very odd.... One definition of sin is "missing the target." Perhaps the real issue is knowing quite what the target is...
Labels: Life, Ponderings
¶ 11:53 am 2 comments
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Canon... but not of scripture
It's fascinating how words find new, but related uses.
Only in the last few years have I come across the use of canon and canonical lifted from the ecclesiastical and into the realm of Role-Playing Games. It seems to be applied especially in cases where there is an extensive corpus of published works, from a variety of sources. Hence there is the Traveller Canon (although I'll have to be a pedant and suggest that this definition actually might not match with what the original author and owner the game states) and the Glorantha Canon.
So, what's the point of this? Well, only to note that not only has my Caratan material been published in Tradetalk 15, as blogged previously, but I've heard in the last few days that a mention has been included in the forthcoming publication Blood over Gold, which makes the Auloring people and the land of Caratan canonical. You can call me sad, but I'm also dead chuffed!
(All I need now is there to be enough demand and interest to allow a re-working of the Fan-Published material into a more professional format.... it's not the money, it's the kudos. Which doesn't mean I'd do it for free, of course.)
Canon as in clerical "rank" - that I can live without. An honour maybe, but nothing particularly exciting, but this sort of canon - yes please!
Only in the last few years have I come across the use of canon and canonical lifted from the ecclesiastical and into the realm of Role-Playing Games. It seems to be applied especially in cases where there is an extensive corpus of published works, from a variety of sources. Hence there is the Traveller Canon (although I'll have to be a pedant and suggest that this definition actually might not match with what the original author and owner the game states) and the Glorantha Canon.
So, what's the point of this? Well, only to note that not only has my Caratan material been published in Tradetalk 15, as blogged previously, but I've heard in the last few days that a mention has been included in the forthcoming publication Blood over Gold, which makes the Auloring people and the land of Caratan canonical. You can call me sad, but I'm also dead chuffed!
(All I need now is there to be enough demand and interest to allow a re-working of the Fan-Published material into a more professional format.... it's not the money, it's the kudos. Which doesn't mean I'd do it for free, of course.)
Canon as in clerical "rank" - that I can live without. An honour maybe, but nothing particularly exciting, but this sort of canon - yes please!
Labels: Life, Role-Playing Games
¶ 8:31 pm 0 comments
Eeek!
I was in the middle of writing a post, which will hopefully soon appear, about yesterday's peregrinations, when who should appear but GLW, clutching a tasty-looking piece of white chocolate. Except that somebody agreed with me - there being a series of little nibble marks.
Yes - we have a mouse!
(Should come as a surprise at all - Cat-who-owns-this-human has a habit of bringing them in.... and then losing them!)
And now it's time I scampered off too. Anyone for cheese.
>Ü<
Yes - we have a mouse!
(Should come as a surprise at all - Cat-who-owns-this-human has a habit of bringing them in.... and then losing them!)
And now it's time I scampered off too. Anyone for cheese.
>Ü<
Labels: Life
¶ 4:09 pm 0 comments
In praise of the Orbital Car park... not
Very tired today after "investing" my day off in a trip to Grand-Parental Midlands City. It's not that I mind driving, I don't, but the M1 and the M25 are a rather potent combination, although moreso coming South than going North. I'm very glad I had a reasonable run up and a good time there, because it felt like we crawled en masse all the way between the M1 and well-beyond the M11 junctions of the M25.
But now, having referred to the witty (?) post title, here's the meat...
I had the opportunity to meet a couple of key staff at the University in GPMC with a stake in the appointment of the new 0.5 Chaplain, but neither of whom will be present on the interview day next week. But before that I made sure I had the time to do a little sleuthing about the reality of the parish which makes up the other 0.5 of the post.
What I hadn't reckoned on was the emotions that would be stirred on going into the city though. Not so much the rather unexpected familiarity with much of the central ring road (whether they call it that or not) because in the mid-eighties I tended to visit Nan on about a fortnightly basis after Granddad died, but the feelings that bubbled up upon on driving past the familiar statue and park close to the old house, or the familiar names of the streets. I almost wanted to stop, get out of the car and look at their old house in Forest Road. To somehow grasp the past of 22 years ago, almost to go back in time and see Tom again. Forgive the sentimentality if I say that I'm sure I will again, but you know what I mean. I don't think of myself as a very emotional person, but it was simply a very moving experience which hit me totally unexpectedly. Not quite coming back home, but not far from it.
The parish was everything I had expected, although again it was the emotional resonances that hit me. A ground visit, coupled with my research on the internet (thank you Office of National Statistics!) had confirmed what the Parish Profile had lightly touched upon - a Parish of quite stark contrasts - as well as raising a number of questions about the state of the congregation and their geographical distribution and social expectations.
On the one hand, as illustrated in the Profile, there's the charming rural idyll of mellow, honeyed stone, the country pub facing the church, looking for all the world as if hidden in the depths of Leicestershire and pulled out from my former deanery - even down to the brewer's ales in the pub. (Shame I don't think much of their beer!) Yet within a stone's throw of the Vicarage the warm country stone and leafy tranquility disappear to be replaced by the familiar architecture of the inter- and post-war housing estates.
The contrast was quite disturbing. My last place had a small council estate, and there's one just beyond the borders of MLPK. I know that the encounters I've had before with residents have been very good, satisfying. But this was a pretty big area. Some of the streets looked very familiar and reminded me that often the computer acronym WYSIWYG applies. What-You-See-Is-What-You-Get, at least with regards to people. A sort of no-nonsense openness and baptism visits competing with the TV (although I've had that here too...) Having said all that it still came as quite a shock. What I know in facts and figures translated into bricks-and-mortar reality.
Still, it was a good shock to have. To remind me of my preconceptions. To remind me how privileged we are in MLPK. And to spark some very important questions that will need to be asked at interview... questions which I really hope will prove my hunches wrong, but will probably prove them right. If nothing else it has given me some very good ideas for what might need to be done in the Parish, and of the starting point. It could be a long haul, but I'm not Superman, and all I can play is my part. Nobody else's.
Then on to the University. A quick shufti at the smaller site before driving back to the larger one where the Chaplaincy has a physical presence. It had a lot of resonances with St Martin's in Lancaster, or Liverpool Hope, the main difference being that as a secular foundation it has no chapel or established Christian tradition. I had the privilege of an hour or so's conversation with the Pro-Vice Chancellor (and why do all these different places have different titles for the Head Honcho?) which was friendly, informal and informative, helping me to get a picture of the place, where things had come from, and where they might be going.
After that a chat with the Director of Student Services, which was interesting in coming at things from a different perspective, as well as with the dynamics changed by the arrival of D, the other short-listed candidate who had managed to get lost at the other campus and was also friendly and affable, despite the embarassment of arriving late. D looks to be a strong candidate too, so Thursday next week could be interesting.
Nevertheless I want this post! I won't deny that there are some fairly daunting dimensions, but also some very appealing prospects. There's no such thing as the perfect post - and anyway if there's no way of being stretched there's no way of growing either. I do have another possibility, of a similar nature (0.5 Assistant Priest, 0.5 Chaplain) and in another area of the country that I know well (Pretty North-Western Town), but I'm not taking my eye off this one! I have no intention of spilling D's blood on the church carpet - he's far too nice a man - and anyway the secret is to use a blunt instrument (allegedly) but even so....
Prayers for His will to be done would, of course, be greatly appreciated, dear readers.
But now, having referred to the witty (?) post title, here's the meat...
I had the opportunity to meet a couple of key staff at the University in GPMC with a stake in the appointment of the new 0.5 Chaplain, but neither of whom will be present on the interview day next week. But before that I made sure I had the time to do a little sleuthing about the reality of the parish which makes up the other 0.5 of the post.
What I hadn't reckoned on was the emotions that would be stirred on going into the city though. Not so much the rather unexpected familiarity with much of the central ring road (whether they call it that or not) because in the mid-eighties I tended to visit Nan on about a fortnightly basis after Granddad died, but the feelings that bubbled up upon on driving past the familiar statue and park close to the old house, or the familiar names of the streets. I almost wanted to stop, get out of the car and look at their old house in Forest Road. To somehow grasp the past of 22 years ago, almost to go back in time and see Tom again. Forgive the sentimentality if I say that I'm sure I will again, but you know what I mean. I don't think of myself as a very emotional person, but it was simply a very moving experience which hit me totally unexpectedly. Not quite coming back home, but not far from it.
The parish was everything I had expected, although again it was the emotional resonances that hit me. A ground visit, coupled with my research on the internet (thank you Office of National Statistics!) had confirmed what the Parish Profile had lightly touched upon - a Parish of quite stark contrasts - as well as raising a number of questions about the state of the congregation and their geographical distribution and social expectations.
On the one hand, as illustrated in the Profile, there's the charming rural idyll of mellow, honeyed stone, the country pub facing the church, looking for all the world as if hidden in the depths of Leicestershire and pulled out from my former deanery - even down to the brewer's ales in the pub. (Shame I don't think much of their beer!) Yet within a stone's throw of the Vicarage the warm country stone and leafy tranquility disappear to be replaced by the familiar architecture of the inter- and post-war housing estates.
The contrast was quite disturbing. My last place had a small council estate, and there's one just beyond the borders of MLPK. I know that the encounters I've had before with residents have been very good, satisfying. But this was a pretty big area. Some of the streets looked very familiar and reminded me that often the computer acronym WYSIWYG applies. What-You-See-Is-What-You-Get, at least with regards to people. A sort of no-nonsense openness and baptism visits competing with the TV (although I've had that here too...) Having said all that it still came as quite a shock. What I know in facts and figures translated into bricks-and-mortar reality.
Still, it was a good shock to have. To remind me of my preconceptions. To remind me how privileged we are in MLPK. And to spark some very important questions that will need to be asked at interview... questions which I really hope will prove my hunches wrong, but will probably prove them right. If nothing else it has given me some very good ideas for what might need to be done in the Parish, and of the starting point. It could be a long haul, but I'm not Superman, and all I can play is my part. Nobody else's.
Then on to the University. A quick shufti at the smaller site before driving back to the larger one where the Chaplaincy has a physical presence. It had a lot of resonances with St Martin's in Lancaster, or Liverpool Hope, the main difference being that as a secular foundation it has no chapel or established Christian tradition. I had the privilege of an hour or so's conversation with the Pro-Vice Chancellor (and why do all these different places have different titles for the Head Honcho?) which was friendly, informal and informative, helping me to get a picture of the place, where things had come from, and where they might be going.
After that a chat with the Director of Student Services, which was interesting in coming at things from a different perspective, as well as with the dynamics changed by the arrival of D, the other short-listed candidate who had managed to get lost at the other campus and was also friendly and affable, despite the embarassment of arriving late. D looks to be a strong candidate too, so Thursday next week could be interesting.
Nevertheless I want this post! I won't deny that there are some fairly daunting dimensions, but also some very appealing prospects. There's no such thing as the perfect post - and anyway if there's no way of being stretched there's no way of growing either. I do have another possibility, of a similar nature (0.5 Assistant Priest, 0.5 Chaplain) and in another area of the country that I know well (Pretty North-Western Town), but I'm not taking my eye off this one! I have no intention of spilling D's blood on the church carpet - he's far too nice a man - and anyway the secret is to use a blunt instrument (allegedly) but even so....
Prayers for His will to be done would, of course, be greatly appreciated, dear readers.
Labels: Life, Ponderings
¶ 2:24 pm 0 comments
