[friday olive tree blogging] and a super lunch

Under the olive trees today, the mind moved to L’Ombre in the south of France or wherever he happens to be at this moment. This post is dedicated to him.

The current heat in Sicily essentially means people are fleeing to either their country retreats or the beach [with the tourists] and ours is a bit of a ghost town really, especially during the hours of heat [10 a.m. to 7 p.m.].

For us, this means a sleep in until about 11 a.m., a few jobs, a bit of interfacing with the local population and then a wander along to a café for lunch. Today, Welshcakes went to Raffaele’s for her hair and I met her there.

Let me describe the place.

Welshcakes reaches the ante-garden patio, with its raffia table and low chairs, by lift, the marble stairway being too steep and slippery but it’s a delight nonetheless with its foliage either side. Once inside the main airconditioned room with its canvass awnings over the outside balcony, one is brought water or coffee and the coiffuring of and by the females goes ahead.

Afterwards, we take the road down along the dry stone walls, past the roundabout with its "umbrellered" beer garden and into the steep but picturesque drop down to our destination, the Caffè Consorzio, perched on a hill near the main route down to Modica Bassa.

Inside this caffè, itself on different levels, we go through one garden, past another and eventually come out on an olive tree shrouded stone terrace with table and chairs, delightfully cool and inviting. The girl comes out and puts another table beside it, covers it with a white linen table cloth and brings linen napkins and other paraphernalia.

The bread and drinks are brought and we order.

A breeze plays through the olive leaves and many float down and cover us whilst we wait. The food arrives and the service is courteous to a fault – meat, aubergines, onions, greens, tomatoes and so on, with copious liquid to help it along.

It might be climbing to 40 degrees outside this grove but it is refreshing where we are and tranquil – oh so tranquil.

Eventually we start the trek back up to our place, no direct route but a series of interconnected upward tracks, each with its own charm. At the steepest points, the Higham arm is taken and we do make it back for an extended siesta in the wood-shuttered coolness, followed by the grabbing of the Mac now and the writing of this post.

The “easiness” of the day, the lack of fuss, has been hard to put into words but it was nice for all that.

[de facto] when is it ever genuine

If a man beats his de facto to death, surely that wouldn't count as a genuine killing?

I've been in de facto marriages and in the other sort too and I can't quite see the point of de facto these days, especially as there is still a property settlement and lots of other goodies, should the two part.

In these days when same sex couples can have ersatz marriages and even children [in a manner of speaking] plus certain other difficulties, then one pauses to think. Maybe it's better to be asexual, like me.

More widely in society, for example when there are female clergy and they no longer do the services in Latin, perhaps the genuine article should be subsidized now.

William Gruff considers we should get real in other ways too. I like Welshcakes' method of getting real too.

I'm heading down the road for a genuine coffee at an ersatz caffe after that diatribe.

[i cann] see dissimulation here

At first sight, it looks like another example of encroachment - the net's [so-called] regulator Icann … voting to decide if the strict rules on so-called top level domain names, such as .com or .uk, can be relaxed.

The BBC comments:

If approved, firms could turn brands into web addresses while individuals could also grab a unique domain based on their name, for example.

There’s already, for example, http://iangrey.org/ but this could possibly now be turned into http://morleyis.iangrey. My question is, ‘What’s the point of it?’ Ian wouldn't bother doing it. The answer to this lies in this, methinks:

If there is a dispute [over domain names], we will try and get the parties together to work it out... but if that fails there will be an auction. [Dr Paul Twomey, Icann chief executive]

Money. As simple as that.

Naturally there’ll be cyber-squatting and disputes and Icann will resolve them at a price. So what’s the story with Icann in the first place?

ICANN is a California non-profit corporation that was created on September 18, 1998 in order to oversee a number of Internet-related tasks previously performed directly on behalf of the U.S. Government by other organizations, notably the The Internet Assigned Numbers Authority IANA.

So, it used to be run by the U.S. government and yet they have a meeting in Paris? Who are these people to wield such power? And do you understand a word of this?

On September 29, 2006, ICANN signed a new agreement with the United States Department of Commerce (DOC) that is a step forward toward the full management of the Internet's system of centrally coordinated identifiers through the multi-stakeholder model of consultation that ICANN represents.

All right, so they are somehow under California law or U.S. or whatever but they hold their meetings far away:

Critics argue that the locations of these meetings are often in countries with lower Internet usage and far away from locations that the majority of the Internet-using public can afford to reach. This makes public input or participation from traditional Internet users less likely.

As I read on, the point continually comes through about them being asked to do this or to oversee that. But who asked them? Read on:

The original mandate for ICANN came from the United States Government, spanning the Presidential administrations of both Bill Clinton and George W. Bush.

Some other worrying little things:

On March 14, 2002, in a public meeting in Accra, in Ghana, ICANN decided to reduce direct public ("at large") participation.

Also:

In September and October 2003 ICANN played a crucial role in the conflict over VeriSign's "wild card" DNS service Site Finder. After an open letter from ICANN issuing an ultimatum to VeriSign.

Well Verisign itself is an issue all of its own but by now it's probably best to stop and let you put me straight over all this. Am I completely out of order in thinking that a progressively less transparent U.S. government agency is running the internet for the globe?

Just asking.

[commemoration] blending the old and the new

Nice work of art at Ian Grey's place. A slice of the old Morley is commemorated but admirers are also reminded they're under surveillance at the same time.

A bit of the old, a bit of the new, ushering in the New Feudalism and the ASBO generation.

[interim report] the heat is on ... and on ... and

This Wikipic of Judaea by David Sharkbone vividly shows what we are in today. Already 34 degrees early, it's building and building and certain things become clear.

Firstly - it is not always the case that in the country is cooler. The buildings in town afford shade and the large buildings have that walkway and courtyard effect which certainly cools things down. Every home has shutters and offices are airconditioned.

So, on the way back from downtown just now, it was skipping from shade to shade with the option of stopping in at any of the gelaterii and having granita or whatever. Bottled water is everywhere and it's all set up for "hot". True "hot" is when the cafe owners blanch and mutter, "Caldo, caldo!"

In Russia, the two foot thick walls, intended for the cold, also helped against the heat and certainly water and ices abounded there too ... and yet somehow it wasn't a heat-conscious place as such. This place Sicilia is organized for it.

Perhaps this is all a yawn for you in cooler climes and yet the heat is so pressing on us here that we can think of little else. Incidentally, I had my first Italian lesson yesterday and didn't do too badly.

Next report soon.

[thought for the day] tuesday evening

When contemplating your navel, do you ever consider:

1. Why would anyone in New York or Chicago want to scrape the sky anyway?

2. Do dogs actually talk or do the ones in the house opposite just bark in the middle of the night in sympathy with those in the house on the other side?

3. If some people get richer, must others get poorer in sympathy or do they stay the same?

4. Why don't the centrist pollies on all sides just form one big party with a rotating administrator?

5. What is the best song ever released?

[blogosphere] mutual support and its possible limits

In March, this blog ran a post on the blogosphere to join the myriad other soul searching blogger posts and it focussed on how much we could achieve as bloggers.

There is a point to this post now and the difficulty is not to offend, particularly with fellow Brits [which statement in itself is likely to offend, I know].

The thing is, each blogger is essentially publicizing his wares and hopes that a great many people will stop by and read what he's written, perhaps even comment. Where he goes wrong is when he has other expectations of the process.

For example, the Usmanov and Darling affairs had much publicity and the blogosphere, by and large, rallied round and told those two where to get off. Rousing stuff and well done. I think most people are good natured enough to run a banner in support or even a post or two but what do we do when the question, say, of donating money comes up?

This was why I tried to resist putting a paypal or whatever during my recent troubles although I did bleat a fair bit, it's true. The resolution to the difficulty has been catalogued on this blog and it does show that things can happen for the good.

But what do we do when someone wants much much more?

When someone wants us all to lay down our lives supporting something he or she is into and when they draw it to a close, berates said people for not continuing on and on? Most people are too sensitive and tactful to say this but there are limits.

Similarly, when someone sees his blog as a route through which all other bloggers will come on any particular social issue, with all the aggregators and what have you collating the grateful bloggers' contributions or when a particular blogger sees others as paying for the use of his material and countless other schemes, I'm a little less than forthcoming, I'm afraid.

I'm aware that some will read these words and say, 'Oh, that's wonderful - look how well Higham has done out of blogging, swanning around Sicily et al.' Well yes, I am exceedingly grateful for what has happened but I really don't feel it's the same question per se.

I'm referring above to the expectation that other bloggers are going to tune into another blogger's schemes or devote part of everyday to that scheme.

I'm not explaining myself well.

I suppose the point came out of a discussion Welshcakes and I had earlier about different bloggers and expectations of how much time and effort can really be devoted to a cause when most of us are having difficulty even keeping our blogs up, answering comments and visiting our rolls. Of course we must not be selfish, of course any of us would welcome new ideas and help someone in distress but there are surely limits.

One point Welshcakes has just made is that of geographical location. Let's say there was a difficulty in the UK, for example. All right, we can write to our local MP but no MP in Britain will read a letter not coming from a resident constituent. There are, sadly, limits to what an expat can do, much as he/she might wish to help. Of course we'd do what we could from where we are.

We'd like to know what others think about this.

[plastic surgery] new improved competition

Well it's high time we ran another competition for you plastic surgery devotees and here are four to start the ball rolling:







Your task - to rate the stars in terms of the effectiveness of their plastic surgery and their attractiveness to you personally. Don't stand on ceremony - tell us your thoughts on these beauties.








Disclaimer:

We make no claim that any of these stars have actually undergone plastic surgery. Let's just say it's a hunch.







Ancillary question:

Do you feel there are any richly deserving of inclusion in this competition whom we've sadly neglected?






Hat Tip: Welshcakes, with whom I was discussing famous Welshmen and one thing led to another, you know ...

[trees] trust them to get their hands on these too

Longrider, in his Plague of Tree Inspectors, highlights just what the problem is with those in power - they try to create problems which don't exist, particularly in the case of the trees that never needed to come down:

This tells me that English common law worked exactly as it is supposed to. What we have here is the law working as intended yet a quango wants to impose regulation and inspection to solve a problem that does not need solving because, frankly, it does not exist.

Read the whole post. It's more than this though. It's utilizing any possible pretext to exert control, including that of the health of trees. I'd like to say "total prats", except that this was a quite cynical move on their part.

Pity the trees and pity us.

[total politics] give it a try

Try the new concept in total resource politics.

Mosey around and explore.

Hat tips: Iain, Ellee

[exploiting grief] masterclass by sky and the bbc

We were watching Sky News and BBC World News last evening and something occurred which we'd already spoken of for a week or more.

To put it in context, I'd been into the Melbourne Age in the morning and had noted it was full of killings and 15 girls becoming pregnant and all that and quite frankly, I don't wish to have this thrust onto my plate early morning or late at night.

Don't get me wrong - it's not that I'm uncaring or don't feel for the victims - it's just that I object to having it thrust upon me as "news".

So to last evening and sure enough - there was Sky with closeups of the contorted faces of newly bereaved people with tears rolling down their cheeks, as the reporter thrust a mike at them and asked them how they felt. But perhaps the most distressing aspect for me was how the camera rolled on, lovingly taking in their grief to enable the home viewer to cluck-cluck in sympathy and feel awful for the night.

So I suggested we switch to BBC. Not quite as bad but not good either. As for Sky, they are in no position to defend themselves on the charge that they are not only exploiting grief for entertainment purposes but are actively seeking it out in world "trouble spots".

I find it all bizarre and sickening.

[thought for the day] sunday evening

Justice is open to all, like the Ritz Hotel.

[James Matthew, 1955]

[dunce cap] do it again, ireland

Sorry Ireland, you got it wrong and will have to sit the exam again. "No" was the wrong result and so you'll get a second chance next year:

After a week of what European leaders call reflection, another Irish referendum beckons, to be held early next year. Without it, there might well be an attempt to oust the Irish from the European Union.

A Yes vote in a second referendum is not certain, even if the Irish government were to succeed in securing another rent extracting, treaty-amending protocol. At a time when the Irish economy is about to fall off a cliff, enthusiasm for
the EU and its treaties will not increase.

Interesting how there could possibly be a second referendum. A referendum is a referendum. There was one in Ireland. There was a result. End of the matter.

Very worrying how openly cavalier they've become - seems they don't fear the public anymore in the post-democracy era.

[david davis] 'nuff said

Please look at this post and this one.

Now look at this post, particularly the comments and this one and this one .

I'm glad that serious consideration is now being given to:

1. the fact that Cameron is disastrous for the Tories [did you see BBC World's Dateline London this evening?]

2. the possibility that Davis actually has his head screwed on right.

[football and weather] hotting up here

Doesn't matter whether one is interested or not - Euro 2008 is on in full force here and it might well be Russia v Italy the way things are shaping up.

My Russian mate's just been online about it all, saying there were scenes in the centre of my former hometown he'd never witnessed before. Apparently it's the first success since 1988 when they were the USSR. Right, yeah.

Meanwhile here Italy is still in it and if it comes to this match-up - difficult to know who to go for.

For the football purist, to be male and not to know what's going on is weird, foreign in fact. Actually, football's never been my sport although there's a sentimental attachment to the Crazy Gang. Rugby though - that's another matter [Union of course].

So I'm not going to comment on NZ-England.

Meanwhile, back in Sicily, it is shaping up for a 40 degree plus day today but at 7.30 this morning it was the best - no traffic, cool, light breeze, one trattoria/cafe open and a lovely cappuccino or two whilst sitting al fresco, watching the world go by.

The reason I was out there was that our water ran out, damn it. This puts Welshcakes under the hammer more as I can just zip off to the school for a wash and wend my way back. So I feel badly for her this morning and hope to goodness the water van comes soon today.

OK, so I'll head off now and wish you all a lovely Sunday wherever you are.

[theostalgia] take me back

Welshcakes and Simi?

Now Theo's talking my language.

[thought for the day] saturday evening

Anyway, when I woke up this morning, the pain had spread to the whole of the back and then I realized exactly what was going on - I was metamorphosing into a nicer chap than earlier.

Yep, tell tale signs on the backs of the hands, the razor was working overtime for virtually no effect and then Welshcakes stopped by and murmured, 'It's definitely you.'

'Didn't you realize I've been masquerading all along?' I fiendishly snapped. 'What you've let into your house is nothing less than ... Baht At in disguise.'

'Well, you've overslept,' was the reply, as she cheerfully skipped off to marinade some chicken and start on the plum wine.

Now once more the mild mannered James Higham, I made the kitchen with the help of the trusty stick and suddenly the thought for the day sprang to mind:

Every day in every way, I'm getting better. [Emile Coue, 1915]

Surely there's something in that for all of us.

[oil] peace and harmony ahead ... not

What was the name of that creek we were up, without one of the above implements then?

[real news] this sultry friday

My suggestion to save the legs next time Welshcakes takes Simi for walkies


Bag draws our attention to the shocking news that there is a criminal subculture in prisons. Bag adds:

I'm sure the next expose we will be reading about is the Immigration Office explaining how all these immigrants are from a different culture from us in the UK. Catholics are religious and politicians are liars. I know. It's hard to believe isn't it?

Well, yes, it is hard to believe but here is one even harder to believe - in this home where I am currently ensconced due to the kindness of St. Welshcakes, you might think I'm the only bloke. Not a bit of it. Here is the household in order of precedence:

* Simone Welshcakes de Beauvoir
* Welshcakes
* Uncle James
* Mr. Tyry [the tractor tyre Simi comes to grips with every afternoon when the neighbourhood dogs go into hysterics]
* Mr. Bony Squeak [has to be seen to be believed but most effective]
* Mr. Dumby-Bell [occasionally I fill in, in this role]
* Mr. Pully-Toy [no comment]
* Mr. Stringy [let's not get tangled up in this]
* Mr. Tuggy [no comment again]

I have to report that Simone Welshcakes de Beauvoir is the first to greet me in the morning, followed by Welshcakes in a more subdued manner.

In other news, Obama's gay Muslim character assassinators are hard at it and Cherie is reaching for the stars.

Finally, Harry Haddock says goodbye to Britain's trees [courtesy of The Englishman].

Finally finally - Kate's had her wheelie bin stolen.

[ergonomics] and blogging don't mix

Fact of the matter is that I did my back in and I can lie or stand perfectly well without pain but sitting, let alone sitting and lifting the hands to type, is a bit out of the question.

On the other hand, there is a surprise post this evening so I'll rest up now and get back to you later. Have a good Friday all.

[this post] complete waste of time

Jams reported today the strange case of Stuart Hill, who decided that the Shetlands should secede from the U.K. and the E.U. and become the State of Forvik.

Commendable, Stuart but surely this comes under the heading of "Complete Waste of Time"? You know very well Iceland will step in and take you over.

This got me thinking about other things which are a complete waste of time:

1. Expecting understanding and compassion from a bureaucracy;

2. Thinking your holiday is going to run smoothly with no accidents and no lost documents;

3. Lending a book, even with your name on the inside cover and hoping to see it again;

4. Getting enough time to blog and visit everyone

... and so on and so on. I wonder what seven things spring to your mind when you hear the words: "Complete Waste of Time"?

McCanns: Physicians heal thyselves

McCanns: Physicians heal thyselves

When I first heard and read the following quote from Kate McCann at yesterday’s press conference in Strasbourg, my initial reaction was that because there was no abduction therefore the McCanns could not suffer any pain.

"A structure we feel is absolutely vital if no other families are to go through the pain we have suffered and continue to suffer since Madeleine’s abduction nearly 14 months ago".

However, there will be those in the extended family who do actually believe the McCanns version of events and this may be painful for them.

My reasoning is restricted to Gerry and Kate McCann, and I thought that evading justice was not painful.

Unlike the McCanns, I hold my hands up when I am in the wrong.

Socrates: May not their way of proceeding, my friend, be compared to the conduct of a person who is afflicted with the worst of diseases and contrives not to pay the penalty to the physician for his sins against his constitution, and will not be cured, because, like a child, he is afraid of being burned or cut: - Is not that a parallel case?

Polus: Yes, truly.

Socrates: He would seem as if he did not know the nature of health and vigour; and if we are right, Polous, in our previous conclusions, they are in a like case who strive to evade justice, which they see to be painful, but are blind to the advantage which ensues from it, not knowing how far more miserable a companion a diseased soul is than a diseased body; a soul, I say, which is corrupt, unrighteous and unholy. And hence they do all that they can to avoid punishment and to avoid being released from the greatest of evils; they provide themselves with money and friends, and cultivate to the utmost the powers of persuasion. But if we, Polus, are right, do you see what follows, or do we draw out the consequences in form?

Polus: If you please.

Socrates: Is it not a fact that injustice, and the doing of injustice, is the greatest evils?

Polus: That is quite clear.

Socrates: And further, that to suffer punishment is the way to be released from this evil?

Polus: True.

Socrates: And not to suffer, is to perpetuate the evil?

Polus: Yes.

Footnote: Is evading justice painful? + Google = Gorgias By Plato = McCanns: Physicians heal thyselves + Google = This now number 1 on Google.

[thought for the day] wednesday evening

Here's some advice:

Always give advice, especially on topics you know absolutely nothing about.

[comment is dear] lord prat bigglesworth pontificates

This may be so:

US Federal Reserve chairman Ben Bernanke's need for lower interest rates to stimulate the US economy conflict with the Treasury's need for a strong dollar to deal with runaway oil prices. The Fed should recognize that its actions are misguided. The potential harm of a sustained weak dollar can make the credit crisis look like a minor storm.

... or it might not be so but one thing is for sure - the Morgan Fed is either incompetent or evil.

Take your pick.

[feel the heat] southern sicily sizzles

We had our first 40 degrees today and of course it was while we were waiting for the bus back from Catania Airport, such bus due at 13:45 but appearing, mysteriously, at 16:15 after everyone had been fried to a frazzle and nicely pickled.

We are currently locked into a discussion on which liqueur to hit first - Gin ai Mirtilli [Welshcakes made], Pineapple Liqueur [Welshcakes made = strong], Mandarinetto [commercial but yummy], Mint Limoncello [puts hairs on your chest whilst refreshing you], the Xocohilc Liquore al Cioccolato [with chilli pepper], Quince Liqueur and Orange Liqueur [both Welshcakes' mindbenders] and lastly the Vecchia Romagna Black Label Italian brandy of which more at a later time.

The Catania airport thing is a nice venture. Two hours away by airconditioned coach, one passes through amazing countryside, mainly hills, cliffs and rocky outcrops in a range of pastel colours, with the occasional rough stone building dotted here and there to complete the scene. Will have to take a camera next time - some of the cliff faces and the buildings affixed to them are awesome.

There is greenery too - hillsides of lemon trees and assorted produce, as well as the bus running close to the ocean at one point and that is something else again. I have this crazed idea to build a little house into the hillside somewhere but that's down the track.

Back in Modica, the thing which hits you is the number of motor scooters - Vespas, Lambrettas what have you. The legal age for these is 14 .......

[Sorry, have to interrupt this post with the news that Italy has just scored in the European Cup. The city just burst into spontaneous uproar, the motorcyclists are racing up and down the roads at top revs and everyone's going crazy.]

So, as I say, the legal age for these is 14 and it produces situations where a lady was crossing via Sacre-Coure a couple of days ago and was hit by one of these teenage putt-putts - she was actually lucky it wasn't worse. They're everywhere, these things.

'Nuff for now. Don't miss Welshcakes' post later on the clandestini who died yesterday and I'll mention the neighbourhood dogs who are driving us crazy with their wall to wall barking day and night, especially poor little Simi.

Quackers

Quackers

Link.

And...

Woof justice?

Reverse Culture Shock (a preview)

As I stated in the previous post, my family came to Madrid for the weekend. They´ll be here in Spain till this Saturday but I can´t go with them due to my teaching obligations. Needless to say, when they showed up at Barajas, I was thrilled (having not seen them in six months). However, as the day wore on and two of my family members refused to see or do anything besides sit in the hotel, I started getting angry. I didn´t let it show but it seemed so weird, first off, talking in English. Second, I do remember how tired I was the first day I came here. I hadn´t slept during the entire flight and proceeded to sleep two hours after eating breakfast when I got into my (now) old apartment near Príncipe Pío. I soon recovered later that day. What one member of my family (who shall remain nameless) said sums it up best, "We´re only here for a week. They should be wanting to see more stuff and not be too concerned with sleep." Too true! They really did miss out this weekend! Although they´ll be back on Saturday, I´ll be out of the country.

Some things I´m sure will seem quite strange to me when I leave early next month. Among them are the following:

No subway system in Indianapolis

A bit more face saving than here (as I´ve commented in previous posts, Spaniards are very direct, to the point of being rude by our standards).

Speaking English instead of Spanish

Hearing Mexican Spanish (for which I´ve developed a healthly dislike) instead of Castillian Spanish

No churros for breakfast *sniff*

Things that will not be strange:

A judicial system which works (Sadly here in Spain, you can murder someone and get out in twenty years)

Driving and blasting rock music out of the windows at full volume (something I´ve been seriously missing)

It´ll be a mixed bag, that´s for sure.

Last Days in Spain

I finished my finals on Friday. My family came to Madrid for the weekend and sadly missed out on quite a bit, being too jet lagged to see anything remotely cool like the changing of the guard at Palacio Real or actually going inside the Cathedral of Our lady of Almudena (we just stood outside and took a photo of the statue, my aunt from Argentina absolutely wanting a photo). Now that I only have to teach English and nothing else, I´m always out and about in Madrid. Today I went to the Telefónica building on Gran Vía and saw an exposition of photos. I was hoping to go into their museum which has many old school telephones including the one used by the king to innagurate Madrid´s phone system but it´s closed till August. I then went to Chamberí.

Chamberí is a neighborhood in Madrid and also has a cool exhibit: an old station from the Metro system dating back to 1919 (when Line 1 was innagurated). Specifically Line 1 (where I live off of) is the oldest of the entire system, something I didn´t know till today. I didn´t bring my camera with me but I found some very decent photos of it on the Internet. Enjoy!





This of the excavation of the station. It was closed in 1966 and in 2006 the process began to recover it. Once you get on the platform for the trains you can actually watch the current line 1 trains go by! I was so thrilled when a friend told me a few months ago that you can go in this station. I have been dying to get photos/get in ever since I moved to Tetuán back in February.

Here is probably the coolest photo I found. This is when your standing on the platform. Notice first off the ever famous Metro de Madrid diamond denoting what station it is (in this case, Chamberí). It´s in the old style too, compare it with the one below Quevedo, which is more recent. Second, it has one of the ads that is down in the station, they retained the original advertisements. Third, off to the right, there is one of the current line 1 trains passing by. I waved at everyone, with my sunglasses on and my university t-shirt. It passes by at normal speed, so I´m sure everyone was thinking, "What is this?"

This is the entrance to the station. Find below a photo of the diamond from Quevedo.

The Old Jewish Cemetery

I would like to share with you a place I found quite moving - the Old Jewish Cemetery in Prague. It was founded in 1478 and for more than 300 years it was the only burial ground where Jews were permitted. It is quite compact in space so burials were on top of one another, sometimes up to 12 deep. The site contains an estimated 100,000 bodies and over 12,000 gravestones.

The stones are amazingly jumbled and quite fascinating. I like the following picture because to me it shows the cycle of death and life.

And here you get an impression of how close the gravestones are.

The only way into the cemetery is through Pinkas Synagogue which was founded in 1479. Today the Synagogue is a memorial to all the Jewish Czechoslovak citizens who were imprisoned in Terezin concentration camp and later deported to various Nazi concentration camps. On the walls of the Synagogue are the names of 77,297 people who didn't return! The building also houses an exhibition of children's pictures from the Terezin concentration camp.

My first step into the building, seeing all those names on the wall was quite overwhelming. There was no way I could have photographed it for lots of reasons but here is a photo so you can get an impression of it...

This photo was originally uploaded by: ccarlstead.

[thought for the day] sunday evening

On this auspicious Sunday, some words of wisdom from 1744:

Truth is the cry of all but the game of the few.

[post-stupour blogging] of elections, missed buses and exams

All right, I admit it - I was asleep when the door buzzer went and 'they' came for Welshcakes to take her voting.

It's Sunday, about 4 in the afternoon and I've just been experimenting with the concept of 'siesta' for real. Tried to go through books of picture postcards but was a bit too heavy-eyed after the prosciutto lunch and well ... you understand. Welshcakes also had it in mind to do a bit of siestering but the little question of having to go out to vote precluded that.

By the way, there were some sticks of grissini and that was going to be sufficient, wasn't it? Not a bit of it. Welshcakes wrapped them in basil leaves and prosciutto - then they were ready.

I'm completely lazy. Not completely. Earlier today [10 a.m.] I went down the hill to the lower town to see a Russian friend who had just seen off her Russian friends and we ambled along to the bus stop which is situated at the end of a long 'Y' shaped road, which was once two mighty torrents of river.

I'm not explaining well. The whole of the lower town is in a valley, with the ancient buildings clinging to it either side. Picturesque just isn't a sufficiently apt word. Well, at the end of this were two forlorn ladies who'd missed the bus because unbeknowns to them - it's both Sunday and election day today, which brings me back to Welshcakes who has just been taken away to vote.

No doubt she'll blog on that later. I plan to take Welshcakes down the road for a late supper at the Consorting Cafe [don't get the wrong idea] and I promised to change the lightbulb and I'll do the vacuuming tomorrow morning - not sufficient recompense for her kind taking-in of this irrascible blogger in his hour of need but I'll think of something.

So there it is, dear reader. We're getting our energy levels up as best we can for the big day tomorrow - exam day for her school all day Monday. I presume the examiner will be from the British Council.

My Russian friends, meanwhile, are visiting another town and I'll catch up with them tomorrow as well. Now I eagerly await Welshcakes return, in her light blue splendour, from her exciting dip into Sicilian political culture.

Being stateless myself, I'll mix her a light refreshment and enjoy her tales of derring-do . Oh and it's now 37 degrees C.

[tyke that] been shoovellin' mook agin, ha ye, lad?

Wheear 'ast ta bin sin' ah saw thee, ah saw thee?
On Ilkla Mooar baht 'at
Wheear 'ast ta bin sin' ah saw thee, ah saw thee?
Wheear 'ast ta bin sin' ah saw thee?

On Ilkla Mooar baht 'at
On Ilkla Mooar baht 'at
On Ilkla Mooar baht 'at

Tha's been a cooartin' Mary Jane
Tha's bahn' to catch thy deeath o` cowd
Then we shall ha' to bury thee
Then t'worms'll come an` eyt thee up
Then t'ducks'll come an` eyt up t'worms
Then we shall go an` eyt up t'ducks
Then we shall all ha' etten thee
That's wheear we get us ooan back

Ah ooan back lad, ah ooan back

An aw'll be at peace

I don't think.

:)

[at any time] fragility of life

At any time.

[home's your castle] have I got news for you

Chris Cocker, 36, from Blackburn, laughed so hard while watching BBC TV's Have I Got News For You that he fell off the sofa, the BBC reported. A neighbour in the flat below heard the thud and called police.

"I fell off the settee in hysterics and hit the floor and got myself up and started carrying on watching the telly and the next thing I know there was a knock on the door," Mr Cocker said.

The knock was from police officers, but Mr Cocker was not happy to see them and refused to co-operate. "The bit where I lost it the most was when I shut the door and the policeman had stuck his foot in the doorway and was refusing to let me shut my own front door," he said.

Police then pepper-sprayed Mr Cocker, bundled him into a police van and took him to a police station where he said he was stripped naked and made to spend a night in a jail cell, the BBC said.

The whole thing turns on three points:

1. Mr. Cocker got up all by himself and didn’t inconvenience anyone else in this difficult manouevre;

2. Mr. Cocker clearly had not installed the second security door for when troublesome visitors stick their feet through the outer door;

3. The necessity to be naked in jail.

I’d dearly love to hear a recording of the initial conversation between the boys in blue and Joe’s brother but there is one point left unresolved and uncommented on in this whole tawdry episode – the programme ‘Have I Got News For You.

I do feel there is a prima facie case for search and arrest of the main culprits on that particular show and quite substantial justification for 42 day detention and waterboarding, those subversives being prime candidates for insurgency status.

Would all this have happened under Angus Deyton?

[clubs] of tammany and tin gods

Tammany Hall, where the politicking was professional

You know, I’ve really started wondering about the angst and the aggro surrounding clubs.

Before I go any further, time for the disclaimer – I shall studiously try to avoid references to any specific clubs and organizations bar one and yet there seems to be a common denominator, from football to online clubs.

One of the groups I think which needed to take a long hard look at itself in the past was the Scout Organization. They had a handbook called Policy, Organization & Rules, a bureaucratic tome if ever there was one, which in turn was referred to as ‘Press on Regardless’.

What was the point? It was supposed to be a friendly, voluntary, philanthropic organization, for goodness sake. Did the pedantic language ever stop one kiddie fiddler from slipping through the net? And yet the plethora of rules seemed to give a certain type of person a certain type of security, setting up a hierarchy in which the top positions were sought after.

Yacht clubs are notorious for both those who wish to avoid all responsibility, to escape being roped into working bees and the like and those who seek the top club positions, not above a little manouvering and elbowing to climb that greasy pole.

What’s the point? Is there some sort of pleasure to be derived from resolutions and minutes of meetings and from the seconding of motions through to imposing gruelling sets of restrictions on members? Why do clubs lumber themselves with these things?

With online groups, are those who rise to the top the best ones to run the show? Are there distinct starters and runners? What’s the point of an online group? What sort of person should be allowed in and what sort should be allowed to remain?

What’s the club actually for?

I confess I don’t know – it seems that there is a moment where it seems an eminently good thing to do and then there comes the time when the damned thing should be given away because it is just bringing everyone down.

The key question I’d like an answer to is how to have a club without people posting threats about others, getting all ‘ultimatum happy’ and generally causing misery for all around. Where’s the pleasure in that?

Why would anyone wish to be part of all that?

[interim report] light at the end

Envisage Wednesday we'll be freed up to blog. Just now there are my Russian visitors and the exam time plus Sunday's election [see Welshcakes' posts] but it eases up after Tuesday.

Little bit of Russo-Italian stick. The visiting ladies went to dine last evening in the lower town and I went with them for a while. When the waiter came over, I indicated, 'Belissimo, non?' nodding to the three and he said, 'Non.'

He clearly felt I should be confining my activities to a good Sicilian girl or maybe a Welsh girl in Sicily, had he known about the lovely lady up in the middle town, Sordo. Of course I can't invite you all to Welshcakes' place but there's a nice B&B down the road - actually ultra-nice:

Pinetta Monserrato

Tel/faz +39.0932.946.908

info@pinetamonserrato

So if you fancy a spacious B&B on the hillside overlooking the old town, that's your spot. If you fancy some Italian lessons in a most civilized manner [thereby allowing this household of ours to survive the summer], the place is:

English International School

english_int.school@virgilio.it

Welshcakes is too modest to say but she's a fully qualified teacher in Italian and Paula can also do this. She is today teaching one of the Russian girls.

In all seriousness though, it's a fabulous area with more than reasonable rates compared to the rest of Europe and last evening's cool 22 degrees walking through the old town was a delight, not to mention the cuisine and the sheer relaxation here.

And you'd get to meet Welshcakes.

Field of Dreams

'Tis moonlight, summer moonlight
by Emily Jane Brontë

'Tis moonlight, summer moonlight,
All soft and still and fair;
The solemn hour of midnight
Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere,

But most where trees are sending
Their breezy boughs on high,
Or stooping low are lending
A shelter from the sky.

And there in those wild bowers
A lovely form is laid;
Green grass and dew-steeped flowers
Wave gently round her head.

Crossposted at Cherie's Place.

Thanks, Cherie from James.

[reasons for silence] tall tales and true

Watch that nose!

Have you ever noticed how things gang up on you and then your limp reasons for not blogging are 'blogging will be light' or 'RL intrudes'?

Bet my reasons sound a little far fetched.

For a start, Welshcakes was finally forced to take a day of recuperation yesterday [hence her prolific blogging but you'd never know that, the stoic] and was homebound on the recommendation of Dr. Higham.

Then I was called out by a certain bevy of unspecified gender to impart certain knowledge and a goodly part of the day was spent either doing that or checking in on home.

Then a certain Russian lady was arriving at 10 last evening with a ladyfriend and with the threat of another arriving today, I helped them into their digs but the prospect of a nightcap with a certain WCL had me scooting up the hill to find a quite chipper Welshcakes furiously pumping the keyboard.

We enjoyed the nightcap.

Then old Higham hit the day and didn't stir until now, one hour before being due down the hill once again.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it!

Pub quiz: McCanns and W.S. Churchill?

Pub quiz: McCanns and W.S. Churchill?

What is the connection between the McCann case and Sir Winston Churchill (1874 - 1965)?

Clue: Famous quotes.

[quickies] tuesday morning boys' talk

Nice little piece from Ordo - this on McCain, for example:

If it looks and smells like an intellectual pygmy, then it probably is an
intellectual pygmy...

Or from Sackerson:

I must start to read the big-words papers.

Or from Wolfie:

It doesn’t get much better than this. [Together with Wolfie's marriage guide]

Or from Rob at The Broadsheet Rag:

But bare with me.

Yes Rob - I'll give it a try. Wait for me. :)

[shepherd's pie] but not as we know it, jim

I’m reminded, ensconced at Welshcakes’ domicile, of Prince Philip who was quoted as saying:

I never see any home cooking. All I get is fancy stuff.

See what you think and before I begin, Welshcakes wishes to issue a warning that if the Jailhouse Lawyer makes any snide remarks about the fare above, he can go forth and multiply [but not in those words].

So here is the scene:

‘Would you like some Shepherd’s Pie,’ asked WCL, expecting the answer yes. So she began preparing one a la Madhur Jaffrey but I can tell you the light hand of Welshcakes was quite discernible throughout.

The aubergines were sliced and griddled first as their olive oil soaking propensities have been swell documented. These were then left to one side.

Next came the taties, boiled whole until only just soft and these also were put to one side, to be sunflower oiled later. Yours truly sliced the tomatoes and then the taties.

Now came the Great Mystery – the case of the disappearing nutmeg. We searched high and low, inside cupboards and outside but drew a blank and decided to go without it. Imagine Welshcakes’ amazement when some hours later there it was, the bottle, sitting right under our noses in one of the cupboards we’d checked.

She still insists it was one of my practical jokes but I swear it wasn’t. Instead I insist back that it is not unlike the case of the credit card in the car. No matter – back to the Shepherd’s Pie.

One large onion, seven cloves of garlic, parsley and a good sized piece of fresh ginger needed to be Moulinexed and then added to three tablespoons of sunflower oil in the large wok until the onion was transparent. The mince then went in with chopped green chilli [which we didn’t have so Welshcakes used her own special mix], turmeric powder, a little salt and gradually, four tablespoons of water judged by the meat.

The mix was stirred until the meat was browned, then covered and left simmering for 45 mins. Next came the all spice, thyme, nutmeg and a little black pepper.

Now a baking dish needed to be oiled and lined with the aubergine strips, followed by a layer of sliced tomatoes, seasoned with salt, black pepper and thyme, then the sliced, cooked potato, brushed with oil and seasoned one last time.

Welshcakes now added her own little touch with a pinch of oregano. Not to be outdone, I was all for adding some rosemary which we picked from the balcony and it added that special something.

The whole thing was then bunged in the oven for about 40 minutes and Roberto was then most certainly our uncle. Now that was what I called a Shepherd’s Pie and I have to nip off now to eat the second half this evening.

Of course, we haven't even mentioned the exquisite lemon ice-cream cake for afters, which melts in the mouth but that will have to wait for another post.

[liberty] invest in it before it's too late

Vietnam as it should have been.

With the anti-foreign push in most countries today, of which I became an unwitting victim, the desire to shut the shutters, shore up one’s personal resources and look after N1 is quite pressing on the psyche.

There is little doubt that people neither want to contemplate what’s coming, let alone read about it in blogs. Feel good stories are the ticket, or focussing on titillation or outrage at some new atrocity the media, esp. Sky News, keeps feeding us.

Then there is the macro-stage, the global stage:

The press coverage of the war in Iraq rarely exposes the twisted pathology of this war. We see [it] from the perspective of the troops or from the equally skewed perspective of the foreign reporters, holed up in hotels, hemmed in by drivers and translators and official security and military escorts.

Whatever your view on it, the Iraq War is a dirty war and America has fallen for it again twice in the space of one generation. It’s dirty because the public and power are not at one, because generals are coming out and speaking, because vets are not coming home to heroes’ welcomes, because the government’s provision of physical resources and services to the troops does not match its rhetoric.

In the World Wars, people were not exactly at one but at least they were looking in roughly the same direction against a tangible enemy. Not so in these two disasters. This is tough for me to say because I am ex-military and I feel onside far more with military mates than with "lefty moaners". Yet Vietnam still sears the brain and will not go away. No one in his right mind says that was anything to do with protecting democracy or preventing the domino effect.

And now we’re shaping up for a third round – Iran. There is, currently:

Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad's taunts that Israel "will soon disappear off the geographical scene", President George Bush's repeated lambasting of the Iranian Islamic regime as a great danger to world peace, Senator Hillary Clinton's vow to obliterate Iran if it attacked Israel, and Senator Barack Obama's pledge to "do everything in his power" to prevent Iran from obtaining nuclear power.

Having been in a position to discuss Iran at government level in the past couple of years, the message coming through is that Iran is a lot more than just a madman at the helm and could easily draw the U.S. and allies into an endless loop of debilitating tit-for-tat.

America must realize the story’s a lot more complex than Great Satan simply bombing the crap out of the place. Have they learned nothing from Vietnam? The Age article touches on this:

[Iran] can halt its supply of oil, which in the present world climate would cause a real energy crisis, with the price of oil going up beyond $200 a barrel, block the Strait of Hormuz, through which some 87% of the Gulf oil is exported, target oil platforms in the Gulf, and make life more miserable for the US in Iraq and Afghanistan than is the case at present by encouraging its Shiite allies and unleashing its own suicide bombers against the US forces there.

And then there is the scenario which any reader of the apocalyptic scriptures foretells – war between blocs, not nations, deception, Israel caught in the middle of it and the inevitable slide to the feudal bestialization of human beings to an extent not conceived of in the west for centuries.

There is a madness abroad just now and on the homefront – the economic jitters. Personally, I see the last time we really saw hope of escape, at least in part from this constant cycle of being squeezed from above was in Andrew Jackson’s time.

People are forever looking for a political saviour and I suspect one is just round the corner now but it would be as well to check the colour of his coat before extolling his virtues and placing faith in him. He might be working for the other side.

The cynical, serpentine manouevering to get people to relinquish freedoms and the right to elect representatives has to be vigorously opposed. The right to trade and to move about the world is also under threat of sovereign monopolization. The equally cynical invocation of terrorism,illegal immigration and global warming as a tool rather than as a legitimate issue must be seen for what it is and also opposed, at the same time as we oppose that very terrorism, illegal immigration and global warming itself.

The debate has to become less puerile and black and white. Because you oppose something does not make you a traitor - it could equally be making you a patriot.

[glass ceiling] not for women there isn't

Glass ceiling for women? Utter bollocks. Just a question of time till the Feministi journos tried this one.

It was Clinton who not enough wanted plus the spectre of her husband. Fair's fair though - it was a gracious concession speech.

[misteri d'italia] learning slowly

In the early stages of coming to terms with this place called Italy, helping me greatly is the book by Tobias Jones who moved to Parma in 1999.

Named the Dark Heart of Italy, I couldn’t possibly comment on that at this early stage but already some things have become apparent to a man whose eyes have never been turned this way but rather to colder climes. No doubt most readers would have more knowledge of the two Sicilies than I.

Yet bear with me as I make my discoveries and kindly add things you yourself picked up in your travels, to round out the picture.

Stato

Firstly, there is no state called Italy, except in politicians’ minds. It has gone through so many hands, been somebody’s baby, from the Borgias to Berlusconi and the city state is still so deeply entrenched in most places that it explains why Modicans refer to themselves as either that or Sicilian, the south, part of ‘Africa’, as they apply their northern neighbours’ epithet for them.

‘Provincialism combined with urbane cosmopolitanism’ is the way to go.

Catholicism

The religion is clerical, people’s attendance largely social and yet fervent for all that. As the bells chime just now, it is a contrast to where I was two weeks ago with the Muslim prayer call from the minarets.

One place this comes through is if you are convicted of wrong doing in the law court in Primo Grado. No one thinks that is the end of the matter – you’ll be absolved in Secondo Grado later. Sin on Saturday, absolution on Sunday.

Furbo

Some time back I ran an article on this – the admiration for someone who can con his way round the system and make something for himself. Much better, as Jones says, to be furbo [mildly dodgy] than ingenuo [naïve]. To pay an unnecessary fee, to do things by the book, to declare campaign contributions and resign for irregularities, so beloved by the British – that raises eyebrows here.

Ethics

There is bel and brutto. That’s all. Not right and wrong. One dresses to shop, one’s ailments and poverty is not spoken of and is disguised as far as possible.

Laissez faire and bureaucracy

Anything official involves largesse, obsequiousness, long queues, crawling on the belly and begging, in flowery language, to be allowed to pay your outrageous tax and get that little stamp on the document which goes with the other stamped documents which go with the other red tape to pay your fee on this or that. Legitimacy is everything, even to proving you’re a citizen.

On the other hand, the average life has no end goal, no explanation, no rules – it just is. To feel is more important than to think. The summum bonum is figura – the thing you have achieved, which you have made yourself into.

Fantasy and reality

Somewhere in here is the merging of fantasy and reality. Reality is euphemized or ignored, hidden away beneath a layer of words, which are fantasy, which is the real reality, sometimes in blood through history. History and story are the same word in Italian – storia.

Passing someone on the path

An ASBO was coming the other way in south London once and wanted me to step aside. When I didn’t, I got ‘Oh, for f--- sake,’ and other gems but I dug in and refused to move, even pulling a sandwich out of a bag to eat to while away the hours. Twenty minutes later he gave it away.

In Russia, he saw me coming, I saw him coming, we ignored the other and at the crossing point it was two walruses clashing, followed by his denunciations, ‘But it was my path.’

In Modica, he saw me coming, we both stepped aside, he said grazie and buona sera, I responded in kind.

That’s about as far as I’ve got so far on this place here where a gale is currently blowing through the shutter slats and the tiled floor feels cool beneath the feet as I write this.