Shall I tell you a story?

Moral voices

22/10/2011

Gazing out of the window at the high birds taking the wind in the pre-dawn sky. Dipping into it, rising, gliding back, flying forward again. Can't be insects they're chasing, this early in a clear-sky chill; must the the wind itself, fresh against their wings and bodies, substance enough to fly against. The sky white-blue, pink at the horizon, brightening vapour trails, odd shapes of cloud. Up above, just the one, two torm-off bits of grey cloud chugging across on a straight course to show the strength and direction of the wind.
    [I must, should, could, probably will do something about the climbing rose, grown beyond its supports and blowing acros the kitchen window.] What do we do with the moral choices of this life? Perhaps it's not the answer we find, if we ever settle for long enough on an answer, but the looking for an answer. The phrase used is the spiritual journey, not the spiritual arrival. We are - no, not exactly wrong, but given the parts of a puzzle that tests our putting-it-right skills without ever having a final form. Life defined as a cross between a set of exercise bars and a joisaw puzzle. And if that doesn't work as an answer to the question, maybe we're engaged in "showing our working", as the exam paper says, rather than just writing down a final answer.
    Moral: don't be too sure; do seek answers to the questions that present themselves. Be inconsistent if that's how you are. The words "integrity" and "truth" want to be included in this paragraph, but today, I think "integrity" has the prior claim.
    Ah. Sunrise. Excuse me.

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In a desk diary scavenged from a house of the dead, a man records his own experiences of the end times: what he has to do to survive; how he came to be marooned where he is; how he reacts to the discovery that he is not alone.

Over coffee, a young journalist gets The Message.

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This site is updated weekly, usually on a Friday although I might change that (again). I write it because (1) I like writing it and (2) I like having a deadline. More often than not, it works out as a commentary on the week just passed*.
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*Although I seem to have gone away from that recently. Normal service may or may not be resumed.

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There's a page for this, but maybe you'd like to see the cover here?

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The dolphins must think us ridiculous. No wonder they only come to the shallow water to play with us, not to signal their most complex philosophies. More.

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Welcome. Thank you for coming. But am I the right
William Essex? Click here
to meet some more.

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Here is yet another page of old blog posts and other writings. Sorry, but I need my metaphorical sock drawer for metaphorical socks. The link to the page is right at the end of the paragraph here.

A very green picture. I can't remember where I took this.

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Here is a passage from a review of the book The Road to Somewhere by David Goodhart. I haven't read the book (yet), but the collected reviews would make a worthwhile set of political arguments in their own right. More.

Also available in English. Look further down.

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Several commentators today saying that they've lost confidence in the US. Making their point by talking up the glories of the past. After two weeks of this administration, they're not going back.
Were they wrong, and they've seen the light? Or has the US changed? I guess the latter is the intended meaning. But we should at least acknowledge the possibility... More.

Categories
(Started 4th November 2017; forgotten shortly after that.)

Kitchen parenting

I have teenage children. When they're home, sooner or later one of them will come to me and say: "Dad! We're going to make a mess in the kitchen!
   "Great!" I will reply, picking up on the tone of voice. "What are you going to do?"
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    "Anything else?" More.

Variously available online, in a range of formats.

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Okay, so a certain President recently made a speech to his people, in which he told them that their country's military "don't do pinpricks". His intention was to get across that when those soldiers do a "limited" or even "targeted" strike, it hurts. But those of us in the cynical wing of the listening public took it the other way. More.

Ceased to exist. Sorry.

Making mistakes

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Looking at both the US election and the revived Brexit debate in the UK, the question is not: who wins? but: how did we get here? More.

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Bright, sunny morning. Breeze. Weather forecast said fog, but it's a blue sky overlaid with vapour trails. Windy season, drifts of Autumn-coloured leaves. Thinking, on this morning's walk, about populism. More.

Early morning, Church Street, Falmouth

9th May 2014

On the day that I wrote this, the early news told us of a parade in Moscow to celebrate Russia’s defeat of Nazi Germany in the Second World War. Crimea remained annexed, and the Russia/Ukraine crisis was not resolved. At around half eight, the BBC’s reporter in Moscow was cut off in mid-sentence summarising the military display; the Today programme on Radio 4 cut to the sports news. More.

Riddle. What are you? You're a conversation!