This town is 'comin like a ghost town.

Weird at work today. Ralph was the only person in before me whereas I arrive relatively late. It was news to me, but apparently we're meant to have office cover from seven. Fancy that.

Anyway, the weekend. Everyone buggered off. It was just James and myself. Horrified at the prospect of this, I hastily suggested that we do the rail ale trail, especially as this was pretty much the last weekend that such a thing was possible. Thus it was that we broke into Rob's room (beg pardon) to give a solid timetable-based foundation to said crazy scheme. And to mess up his instant-messaging affairs.

It was a bit last-minute, so we texted Lisa and Zosia as soon as. They were out clubbing or some such nonsense, so they couldn't respond. But we kindly woke them up in the morning. Bearing this in mind, they were remarkably obliging, the only provison being that we got a later train, which wasn't ideal, but very accpetable, given the circumstances. For some reason James thought we should ask Lisa's permission before asking Amy (well, it was something to do with marginally upping the cost) but we like Amy and probably would have anyway.

Always difficult to blog pubbage. Went straight out to Barnstaple past a very interesting looking cheese shop. We talked crap in some pubs, jumped over some walls, looked at some cows, played skittles, juggled skittles, lost our leaflets (which were out of date anyway) and drank merely six pints (those who were drinking anyway). I think that'll have to do. Oh, and Amy jumped in puddles. I forget what we did when we got back, but I expect it involved going to bed too late.

Sunday morning. Now... Sunday morning, for reasons which elude me... seemed more wobbly than most Sunday mornings do. I skipped breakfast. Mass was Zosia's mass. That is what liturgy means you see. And we sung the Magnificat in place of a Psalm. I thought my guitar playing was well dodgy, but people disagreed, which I suppose they're entitled to.

It was Zosia's last mass. By this it is meant that it was Zosia's last mass at the chaplaincy. By this, of course, is meant that it was Zosia's last Sunday mass at the chaplaincy. This means that it was Zosia's last Sunday mass at the chaplaincy, at least until she visits in fresher's week. [cough.]

Now, for reasons which, as is their wont, escape me, though it is Zosia who is leaving, I received a lovely present from her, and, as yet, have no lovely present of equivalent significance to give her. Hmm. Anyway, it was The Little Prince, of whihc I know I have seen a copy many times on my parents' bookshelf, but never read, 'cos it looks rubbish. It is not rubbish. Thank you again Zosia. By the way, I must say that the idea of your The Little Prince Returns or whatever it was called, seems rather to undermine the grand concept towards which the narrative tends. [cough.]

What a long entry. Better get my nose back to the grind-stone.

Church was more fun than usual today. Except that I did the 8.00 communion at St. Pauls. A lady whose name escapes me preached. Helpfully so, at least for me.
At St. Martians (Thats the spell checker for you) Kim Murray preached. That was good too. All these women I don't know
Jill collapsed asleep straight after the service. She went into work yesterday to do the overnight shift from 5pm until 9am and then came straight to church Usually she manages bra (thats the spell checker again, honest, I type BT rather than BY) keeping going but not today

Hello there, been a while since I blogged here seeing as I have my own blog and all... I've just moved to carpebiem.blogspot.com and updated a few things. I just like having my own blog s'all...

Err... Angelfire is happy to host pictures again Adrian, so your Team Logo is still up at the same address, http://www.angelfire.com/blog/carpebiem/kung_pow.jpg, if you want to put it back up. Also, I tried to change the colour for Mum and Dad's posts but could only get it to be one colour, instead of a different one for the titlebars... I probably just did something silly. Right, ta ra.

Somebody has said of the boldest figure in rhetoric, the hyperbole, that it lies without deceiving.
- Macaulay

On Hyperbole

Was going to be a comment, but it was too long.

[S]orry [M]ark[, ]but [I] read it to [A]my and we were both like - you what?

It was rather over the top, sorry. I'm afraid I just happen to like using long words - those are some of my favourites.

Anyway...

"[E]veryone was calling me mummy[.]"

"Neither James nor myself recollect calling you 'mummy'."

I should know better than to take what anyone says literally, but if you do read what you said literally, it means that "everyone" does not include James and I. And that makes me a sad panda.

:'(

Well not really. This is because I know that you use a lot of hyperbole. I don't know if you're familiar with the word, but I'll assume that you're not - it's a particular kind of exaggeration, for effect, that you happen to use a hell of a lot. You might say that you are always using hyperbole. [embarassed cough]

It's usually pretty obvious when someone is using hyperbole, but in your blog entry it was unclear (how would anyone know whether James or myself had literally called you "mummy" that day?), and I happened to feel like pointing it out, as I have a vague distaste for the idea that people might think I go around calling people "mummy" when I do not.

In a sense, yes - everyone was calling you "mummy". In a sense - I didn't. And this is why I find language a bizarre and intriguing thing.

We had a great holiday. Did sod all but sleep read visit the sorts of places Jill and I like. Despite a frustrating series of attempts to book, we eventually got our cruise along the coast in boat trip. Saw dolphins, seals, kittiwakes, lots of Jelly fish, shags cormorants.
Camp site very quiet, at one time there were just 3 vans in the field (one field of 4 field, and the others were busier). Daily deliveries by a cheerful Taff of milk and newspaper.
Usually whilst driving saw kites No not things with strings; the type with flappy wings. Magnificent creature. Managed to watch one pair from the campsite using binoculars.

Had d walk along a short section of the Pembrokeshire coast walk, I really should remember to take my asthma reliever stuff on holiday. However in I quiet moment heard larks sing for the first time in 44 years. Flash back time to when I still lived in Heap Bridge, Bury

Good holiday that is until we got Nicholas. No Nicholas was not the problem. The weather happened to change. At about half past ten at night I noticed rain dribbling down the side of the caravan enclosed BTU the awning. How is that getting in I wonder. The rail attached to the van was being pulled away. So before it was ripped off we had to take down the awning lashed by wind and rain. Not much fun. Did not sleep well despite having two bottles of medicine.
Due to set of Wednesday morning. High winds, gales round the coast the M$ Bristol channel bridges closed and a deadline of being home for lunch time on Thursday.
tomb Verde to the Welsh campsite was about 200 miles, with the MA in Wales hugging the coast we decided to use the A40 inland This added 50 miles and used bigger hills and smaller roads.
Set off at 3pm when the wind had abated and had gained information that towing was not at all bad. Arrived Verwood 10.30; set up van in dark. Somewhat tense from driving so long; had just 4 twenty minute stops. Rather tense at bed time; hit the bottle again (Do you think two bottles of Theakstons OP. and one of Waggle dance over two nights is a excessive?)

I'm starting to look forward to the holiday, I've booked my train tickets. I think I've done everything to prepare that I can. The only thing really left to do is wait, I'm coming home on Friday 2nd July about midday and hopefully there won't be any problems.

Good afternoon. How are you all?

Well, I say "all"...

Anyway, it's me again. On Friday was the last Choral Society concert of the year, for which I booked Friday afternoon off, though Sarah distracted me from rushing off at twelve with some boring work thing which turns out to be okay after all.

Poor Choral Society Committee. They've been let down by conductors, choir members and committe members all year. In fact, I guess I should say poor Mark and Rachel, as they're the only ones who do anything. But they do do it well. Doing Messiah next term to drag the punters (both singers and singees) in, whihc sounds like a good idea. The rehearsal went surprisingly well I thought, even the Bach, so I strolled cheerily home.

The concert was fun, especially the mass (from which catholicam in the credo seems to have been omitted - I mean, why use the Nicene creed at all if you're embarassed about the word "catholic"?). Having had the Bach go so well in rehearsal we cacked the first movement up on the night, but after that it's plain sailing anyway.

I fear I may have been misrepresented, by the way. I wasn't remotely disappointed that our German in Kantate 127 wasn't fierce - that would be a bit silly. But it was a shame that all the consonantal splendour of Deutsch couldn' be conveyed a little more explicitly. Some other time.

James blogged the retreat tolerably well - he can have a link, as I'm running out of time, and he's got better permalinks now.

Sunday. Ah yes, Sunday was day of rest and a half - even if I did do a week's worth of washing up with Rob and James pitching in to various degrees. I couldn't be arsed to walk to the pub for the quiz, which was just as well, as there wasn't one on, so Lisa and Zosia had to make do with the majesty/fury of our front room. One day - one day it will be tidy.

Tomorrow I shall be taking the afternoon off again to give Irene and her friend from Yorkshire a lift down to the station, after which I shall have a car for a bit. What to do, what to do? She's even left picnicking equipment in it. Gosh.

Pay day, dash it, is not until the very last day of the month. I shall be intrigued to see whether I will have any spending money to speak of after pay day.

Too much i'th' Sun

Mmm... sleepy. That's what I am today.

It's because I've been getting up very early I suppose. The warmth and the sunlight, as we know, tend to wake one up in the morning this time of year.

This was in no wise helped by the fact that I've been sitting in direct sunlight in James' room, and as we all know, sunlight makes you sleepy.

Now isn't that odd?

Think I might have a lie-in tomorrow.

Unless I misunderstood the exchange, two people yesterday, who they were I cannot recall, corrected my assertion that "piss" and "pus[s]" have a divergent number of letters. My dictionary vindicates me. Sometimes I wonder why I bother checking.

The internet expects me to die Tuesday, February 15, 2056. Perhaps I should sell tickets.

There follows a blog entry just for John. Normal service will resume shortly.

Well.

I'd recommend a period of about three months from 23.6, as I'll have a car to drive around in. I'm off on holiday 3-10.7 and 22-28.8. I'm going to a performance on 14.7.

Thank you for your patience.

Can you feel the intertextuality - huh, canya?

Just had a free breakfast and health check because I walk into work. Life is good.

Gratified to learn that my body mass (22), fat percentage (13%) and heart rate (P75bpm - that one might be wrong: difficult to read) are all hunky dory.

I'd check, with my new knwoedge of my BMI, the day that the internet thinks I'm going to die, but silly DCC internet filters think that the Death Clock is an adult site. Idiots.

Anyhow, screw Atkins and all that jazz - I am a fine physical specimen.

Oh - I only just noticed that Mino asked questions. They're not bad questions either.

A question rather general: whenever one of you disagrees with someone else, there is the last resort thing: "It's Revelation". Now, if God has written all the Bible, He did not write with his hands; I believe he used men to write it. Could these men have made mistake?
If not, when there are passages contraddicting each other in the Bible, and all the Bible is written by God, either God is incoherent or the incoherence has to be imputed to men: ho do you make sense of the incoherence?

I read somewhere that the need of interpreting the bible was born when distance in time starts got bigger.
It's here when you need Hermeneutics, which is really a "science" helping you building bridges between the Past and the Present.
What I think some of you fail to grasp is that the Judeo-Christian God is a historic God, a God living in history and that must act into history and that reveals himself fully as history goes on. If this God speaks to men (and women) He will speak to them according the historical development.
So it might be that what was not good before (like women fully partecipating to the spiritual life) is good now (maybe even women becoming priest).

I suppose I shall get a response together at the weekend, but as of this moment I can without reserve say a big "Pffffft." to the notion that in the olden days the bible didn't need to be interpreted.

Good afternoon everybody.

It's a pity no-one's been updating their blogs very much recently, as I could do with a reminde of what happened over the freaking weekend. This business of leaving off my Monday bloggin by a day isn't a very good idea.

Actually, it probably was.

It's been rather quiet considering that Ella's been here - lots of tiredness owing to hotness and examness. Much Zelda has been played. Finally actually injured my foot. Rather pleased that it nothing at all to do with broken glass though.

Oh I know! I made my (approximately) annual ludicrous purchase this weekend. How much do you suppose 8 track digital recorders start at? Well, I am now very au fait with that figure. Frugal living for a couple of months then. Been recording generic stuff - it's fun. Delay is fun. I also bought some necessaries for the concert on Friday. Taking the afternoon off for the last rehearsal, so I've got to try and get up a bit earlier - working flexitime off after 1700 is no fun, whereas getting up before the world has been superheated comes close to being a good idea on it's own merits.

On Sunday, Zosia sang James' and my psalm setting, which was very kind of her. We tried to write a Sanctus t'other day as well, but we weren't feeling very inspired.

On Sunday we went to the Cowley Bridge Inn for the pub quiz. There wasn't one. It was rubbish. Just some football game. Well, I don't mind the football so much, but I think the world of pub and sport should be separate,. because myopic nationalism in a place of enjoyment just bothers me.

O-zone never made no. 1. It's all my fault. I was going to buy myself and Norris a copy, but I didn't want to after buying an 8 track.

I finally bought some more tea - the skankage stops here. It's is not a pleasant thing to want tea and not have any. Same with most things I guess. Thanks for all the tea I've been donated guys!

Got coach tickets for trip to Pembrokeshire. Unfortunately, coach times dictate that I shall have to miss the last chaplaincy mass of the year. Shall probably go to the earliest Sacred Heart one.

Gotta remember to investigate when Irene wants dropping off at the station. Hope it's not during the day.

Best get back to work - blog more you rapscallions!

Best idea I've heard in ages:

The judges for the European City of Culture award should have been sent to Iraq before the war. If they could find evidence of culture in Liverpool, uncovering weapons of mass destruction should be a doddle.

South Manchester Amatuer Operatic Society

Thought I probably ought to blog about my new Wednesday & Thursday night entertainment.

During term time, I'm in a choir, which is great fun. Unfortunately (for me) it's a student society, so in the summer everyone clears off, leaving me with no singing to do. So after seeing them do Oliver, I've joined SMAOS (South Manchester Amatuer Operatic Society), which should see me through the summer nicely.

Next show is La Cage Aux Folles, which is set in a drag club in San Tropez. Some good songs so far, nice harmonies & stuff, and get to go on stage in drag! From what I've heard, they're going to town on the costumes. I'm also now going along on the Wednesday night (which I've just got back from) to learn the dance steps. The upside of this is that I'll be on stage for just about the entire show, the downside is that I need to learn to dance in high heels. I can't dance in trainers, never mind heels!

The other problem is that I've no idea how to look camp. Wearing a dress, makeup and heels should go some way to helping with this - Mark very helpfully said that he didn't think I'd have any trouble! - but I've a nasty feeling that I'm going to just look like a bloke in a dress.

Does anybody know what to do, or indeed if you can, help a chick that's fallen out of it's nest?

There's one on the high walkway on Cowley Bridge Road. I tried to help him up, but there's he's too young to do himself any good, and he wants feeding too, but I didn't have any dead insects on me. So he's just scrabbling at the air, which is no good, and a cat will have him soon.

Too much readin', not enough bloggin'. Probably because of all that shoving my oar in that was going on down there.

Anyway, back at work now, after da weekend, and it seems ooooookay.

Went back to Camberley for Ruth's 30th birthday party at The Old Courthouse. Very uncharacteristically missed my train by misreading my train tickets and ended up spening far too much money to travel, but there you are. Arrived rather late too. Stayed up past my bedtime.

Went shopping for presents and a card for Ruth. Got her a slide-whistle and sort of rubber finger-puppet type things - these one is meant to childishly pit against the other. Party was alright. Saw lots of people I haven't seen for a while, including Ruth's regular pub team members, grumpy Sarah and boyf, and Nicola who works as a nanny in Jersey. Poor DJ didn't have anybody dancing for quite a while, but the feat was eventually managed, though they never played "Take on Me", dash it.

Went back to Nicola's parents' to talk, staying up ludicrously past my bedtime. No issues in retiring to bed.

Up for the 0930 mass at the local church. I can't remember it's name. Two saints are involved though. Did that thing where you forget to get a song book. Never mind. Ran into the principal of my 6th form, drinking tea, and, after a few hints, he remembered who I, and my nuclear family, were. He's still principalling and is a nice chap.

Had dinner and then home. Gosh this is a bit hurried.

Won the quiz.

Yay!

Righto, holidaymakers! We've booked some accomodation. We're staying in a nice cottage in Broad Haven, a town right on the coast. It's from Saturday to Saturday, 3rd to the 10th of July, for £404. Emma paid, so let her have £81 at some point.

It's got a barbecue and decking on the second floor, and sounds pretty nice. Hopefully this link will work if you want more info.

Full directions are being sent to Emma and I, as well as things like how to get keys. We can arrive from 3pm on the 3rd, and need to be out by 10am on the 10th (easy to remember, eh!). Pots and pans and bedding and things are already there, we'll just need towels and teatowels.

Sorry, Isaiah is 1-40; Deutero-Isaiah is 40-55; Trito-Isaiah is 56 ff.

I think citations would probably be more the order of the day.

Sophia is clearly personified in it. The way in which the Wisdom of God is spoken of is very similar to the way in which the Word of God is spoken about. Sophia is generally accepted to be a personification - as is the Logos. Sirach also has this kind of imagery.

I can't say that I'm very familiar with Wisdom - read it once - but I don't think the issue is whether or not Sophia is a personification. I daresay we all agree on that. Surely the question is what said narrative device means re. the character of God. I can certainly see Wisdom as a precursor to the Logos, but I'd be very shy of making an explicit identification between the two.

I do not in any way support abortion. I really think that you took that a step too far. Before you say ANYTHING about my views on things like that, make sure you know what my views are. There is a particular "at 1 group" discussion that really should indicate to you that abortion is not something that I would give ANY support to EVER!

Quite. What the hell were you thinking?

I think you're just scared of admitting that you might just be WRONG!

Pfft. I don't think James has too much trouble in admitting he's wrong. Besides, I think fear of being wrong is a very valuable thing - don't know where I'd be without it.

It is men, FALLIBLE men, who have actually told us that Father is how God wishes to be seen, has revealed God to us. It is, therefore, at least to some extent men forming God in the image of themselves that makes God "Father" all the time, & you are just proving that.

Believe James' point was that Jesus himself as well as Scripture both strongly imply this. Tend to agree.

Are you saying that I'm not a Catholic, because I so obviously don't know God?! That's a really serious & offensive claim, & one that you most certainly do not have the right to make.

I don't think he came close to saying that.

Fisking is it? Well I don't know about that. You guys are both very overconfident to my mind. Lisa comes off a lot worse I think, as most of her reasoning is off-blog, whereas James has very much gotten used to the idea of supporting his ideas with information in a coherent way.

Because laughing and falling off my chair tends to offend[...]

Nice to see you stifling your disrespect in such a visible way James. [sigh]

OK, so maybe here God is saying that God is LIKE a woman in childbirth, but to me, this is still an image that should not be forgotten. I also find it hard to see why God would choose to be like a woman in childbirth, with the crying, gasping & panting, unless God WAS like a woman in childbirth...

Maybe? On the assumption that revelation is revelation, when God says "like a woman in childbirth, I cry out, I gasp and pant." it does mean "like". What's all this emphasis for?

God WAS like a woman in childbirth[.]

Wholeheartedly agree, but emphasis does not a new sentence make.

Lisa: My ideas aren't actually new...They're in fact pretty old...

James So is [A]rianism.

(Arius, being a chap, gets a capital letter. Women can have capital letters too, but only in extreme circumstances.)

Worth saying I suppose, but still a cheap shot.

Isaiah: The LORD will march out like a mighty man,
like a warrior he will stir up his zeal;
with a shout he will raise the battle cry
and will triumph over his enemies.

"For a long time I have kept silent,
I have been quiet and held myself back.
But now, like a woman in childbirth,
I cry out, I gasp and pant.
I will lay waste the mountains and hills
and dry up all their vegetation;
I will turn rivers into islands
and dry up the pools.["]

Lisa: I think that it can even be said that the experience of labour and the delivery of a baby is a great metaphor for God's struggle to birth a new heaven and a new earth.

Yeah, it's only a pity that the apparent context is God's victory over his enemies.

James: It is, to be frank, a shit metaphor. The Son perhaps, wholly man, must struggle when He does things as man does them, dying on the cross must have been a struggle, but as for God the father - He doesnt 'struggle' with anything, He's not in hard labour, sweating and pushing - He's God. He just gets stuff done.

Over-egging the pudding. God does use this simile (not ostensibly for the purpose Lisa intends I think), and it does imply struggle. These references that portray God in a human light might mean many things, some of which I discard because they don't do justice to my conception of God (which, while limited, I believe to be coherent). I tend to think that they emphasise God's real concern and anger regarding humanity as opposed to the apathy of, say, the Greek pantheon.

I don't recall God being described as 'like a Father' but as "my Father and your Father", its not a metaphor. God is our Father.

A misunderstanding of metaphor. To say that "God is my Father" may equally, linguistically speaking, be a metaphor or a truth statement about an objective fact of God being my Father.

Quite why I felt compelled to dive into this I've no idea.

In response to a commenter whose nom de blog is apparently Ogre.

I think we may be at cross-purposes actually. It's my fault for segueing (sp?) into a description of a retreat that I want to go to, rather than something I've already done.

12 hour prayer vigil is a different thing, that I barely blogged about really. My friend James however, who has a good blog with a sheep on it, did. (3 posts)

It's a bit epic... but then, it was a bit epic.

I've never been on a retreat as yet. I'm rather looking forward to it, although I haven't had any confirmation that I'm going so far. S'a whole new thing for me.

Hello everyone, I haven't been on here for a while have I.

Anyway the main reason I'm blogging for once is I am really really looking forward to a holiday and have been looking at things to do on the pembrickshire coast. How do people feel about a mixture of walking, days on the beach, going to somewhere like this activity centre for the day see website http://www.heatherton.co.uk/ and doing something fun like climbing, kayaking or horseriding one day (depending on price and whether they cater for beginners). I've also ordered a few brouchers off the internet for more ideas.

The activity centre heatherton or whatever it is sounds good. It was recommended by someone at work. They have all sorts there including a maze that sounds fun. Me and Ade went to one last week and got lost in it - or at least I did.

I also found this website full of info http://www.visitpembrokeshire.com/

Has anyone any other ideas as I'm just throwing them around at the moment. I'm up for a mixture of fun things to do, energetic days and not so energetic days.