Paradox*
27/10/2009
As I've no doubt said before, the things that fire me up most in my degree are the big questions - theological, ethical, and above all philosophical - to the extent that this year I'd hoped to avoid any papers that didn't fall into that category (to take the ethics, metaphysics and doctrinal theology papers from my faculty, and then add in a paper from the philosophy department). As it turned out, that's not allowed, so I'm taking a paper on John's gospel, as well as the 3 "deep thought" papers from the theology fac., and this means that, of the 4 lectures in papers I'm taking each week, 3 are in a block on Tuesday morning.
It seems very unlikely from that description, then, for me to come out at lunchtime on a Tuesday having enjoyed the Johannine lecture more, indeed vastly more, than the philosophical one. Yet that's how it's turned out, not just this week but every week so far. In part, that's due to the fact that Judith Lieu is very good - she's been more interesting in 3 weeks this term than all the new testament lectures of last year combined; but it's unavoidably also in part due to a less positive analysis of Douglas Hedley. I wont say he's not good - he could hardly be in the position he's in at Cambridge if he weren't outstanding in his field. I'm loathe even to say what is undoubtedly true so far, that I personally find him mind-bendingly dull - because by saying that I'm only entrenching that view in my own head, and I have to break out of it if I'm to have any hope of enjoying philosophical theology for the next couple of years, over which he'll have a great influence. I just can't avoid the certainty in my mind that, had Professor Langford (our inspirational philosophy lecturer last year) given the lectures Dr Hedley's given, I'd have been hanging on every word. As it is, I'm struggling to keep awake.
Lets not end on a low, though. It's not as if lectures were really what matters. I'm being supervised on the philosophy paper at the moment as well, and that hour each week is as superbly enticing and stimulating as ever - Russel Re Manning scores many points :-). Perhaps, indeed, Dr Hedley would be similarly wonderful in a supervision, where you get the chance to really engage with him. Points, too, to Michael Banner, our ethics lecturer; first contact with him a few days ago left almost exactly the opposite impression to the negatives above. There's plenty of potential here for a good year :-)
*Yes, I am being terribly up myself and using the original root of "paradox", the Greek "para doxa", contrary to common belief. And yes, I'm also using it wrongly, because what I really mean is that this tale is contrary to my own natural expectations, rather than the opinions of the masses.
Surrealism
30/9/2009
As you might know, my college Choir have just returned from touring Hong Kong (if you're interested, you can also check out my photos from the tour). It's been a wonderful week, and I think we performed pretty well, but I'd like to take you through the steps that made it one of the most surreal weeks of my life, starting some months ago when it was first announced:
- It's Hong Kong! - this, if nothing else, was a pretty big deal; recent tours have been to Spain, Italy, and the like. To go across continents was a big deal.
- 4-star hotel! - or possibly 5, we never quite found out for sure, but it was certainly rather more than anywhere I'd imagined going before... The sort of place where your bags magically arrive in your room without you having seen them since the airport, and the carpets are as deep as your feet.
- It's free! - OK that's really very unlikely... not only are we going somewhere more exotic than usual, but we're not paying a penny.
- Performing with Li Yundi and Yang Peyei (the kid who actually sang at the Beijing Olympics opening ceremony); Niu Niu, another child prodigy, was added to the bill later, too.
- Broadcast. The show hasn't gone out yet, but our big concert was recorded by RTHK, and will be being beamed across south east asia shortly. Not something I'm used to... But I think it's the small touches that are the least likely.
- 10 Star banquet. After the big concert on our final night in HK, there was a slap up dinner cooked by two five-star chefs... As it turned out the choir didn't get that dinner, so a near miss there, but it did happen. And it was so important that:
- Roads closed. Such a dinner can't be kept waiting, so the HK police force closed the roads between the concert hall and the hotel where the dinner was happening so the cream of society, who'd paid so much for their evening, would not be inconvenienced or arrive to a cold starter.
- What seemed to me one of the oddest things, given it's distance from what I can count as my normal life, was the night that we were taken clubbing by Adrian, the son of Michelle, the lady who organised everything (and paid for much of it). We ended up in Dragon-I which, I'm told, is the most exclusive club in Hong Kong, haunt of such folk as Rihanna, David Beckham, Naomi Campbell, Sting, Boy George, Coldplay, Jackie Chan... And of course given magnums of free champagne (the prices of which were solely listed in the thousands of dollars, or hundreds of pounds).
- As a final touch, I'd like to tell you about the 60kg of excess baggage we were going to bring back to the UK, at Michelle's request. Her two children are at Robinson, so one might expect it to be some of their stuff for the new year, but no. I don't believe you'd ever guess if I gave you 'til the sun burns out. It was in fact the stand and mould for a chocolate model of the Fitzwilliam Museum. Of course.
On the night of the final concert we were considering how the week could get any more surreal, and it was suggested to me that one possibility would be if we were all dressed as the beatles, from their Sgt Pepper phase. Ridiculous, you say? Oh no, it was a very real suggestion made during the planning phases of the concert. I've done some weird things in my life, but few have been less likely than the last week. Now off for a new year, to do it all over again in Cambridge, the town where unlikely grows...
Wayne Rooney is underpaid
17/9/2009
I've been considering the analogy, fairly widely accepted I think, that sportsmen are the "warriors" in modern society. One can see all the reasons why this analogy is made - they're proud, competitive, ritualistic - but I don't think I've ever really thought about the implications of this.
I am, as most of you will know, no fan of football, and would never have considered saying this before, but if football is (as can logically be argued on this basis) a key factor in the maintaining peace in Europe, then Rooney's $20 million a year is, frankly, very reasonable. The old cliché that "you can't put a price on human life" may be entirely falacious (cost-benefit analysts do it every day), but that's not to say it's not hugely valuable. My own CBA would put a single life above $20 million, tho I don't imagine that's industry standard ;-)
This idea should also be applied to the question of sport-related violence (I don't think the term "football hooliganism" really works - not just because it only applies to football, but also because it seems to be more meaningful than the senseless destruction "hooliganism" implies). If one sees one's replacement warriors failing, it's only natural to want to engage in the warfare oneself. Add to that the urge to physically defend the individuals who have this "warrior" baggage when they're in danger of defeat, and then take away any obvious way of doing so, and it's not hard to explain the outbreaks of violence that have followed sports people care passionately about. Indeed, it seems to me quite impressive that such violence is so rare...
I don't know if I've really learnt anything from these thoughts, or come up with any new ideas, but it's a perspective that interests me. Any thoughts?
Site stewarding
1/9/2009
I don't know quite what the essence of it is, but these girls quite clearly get it... whatever "it" is:
Maybe that makes no sense out of context, or if you're not a greenbelt steward yourself. But I've got to say that there was nothing that brought such a smile to my face this greenbelt as realising that other people really do see what I see in our job, and love what I love.
The greatest show on Earth
21/8/2009
Is probably an over-used phrase. But right now, I think there truly is nothing more spectacular than a U2 gig. I was a little nervous about it: would it turn out that the time I saw them in Cardiff on the Vertigo tour had been a once-in-a-lifetime moment, and I'd be disappointed?; would bringing my mum to a gig with one of those popular beat groups so enjoyed by today's youngsters prove too much for her?; given that I enjoyed the last album more than this one, was it inevitably going to be a less impressive tour?
Fortunately, as I say, they're still stunning live, and even my aged parent now understands why it's worth queing most of the day to get close to the front. A large part of the sheer spectacle of the thing, of course, is down to Willie Williams, tour designer extraordinaire, who's been responsible for the set, lights, effects and video on U2 tours for 25 years, and is still the best in the business. So it was a pleasure to be able to sing happy birthday for him, in his home town of Sheffield :-). A man I'd love to be...
I-Spy II
15/8/2009
Whilst we were pootling up and down the severn and associated waterways on the narrow boat, we happened to stop at Gloucester docks, and popped into the town to get a takeaway. There seems something slightly wrong about the juxtaposition I saw there...
G20 update
4/8/2009
For those still keeping track of this (and I hope people are, since if the BBC article gets lots of hits they'll keep reporting), there's a little more news on the death of Ian Tomlinson after being assaulted at the G20. The IPCC have finished their report, and handed it on to the CPS. (For those who aren't up on proceedings, as I understand it the IPCC's job is to gather and collate evidence in a case such as this, and they then give the evidence to the CPS who decide whether it's a strong enough case to warrant prosecution. In a normal case the police themselves would do what the IPCC do here, but for obvious reasons they can't when the accusation is against a police officer/officers).
The problem, of course, is that all sorts of fellows who went to the right schools will now be putting pressure on the CPS to drop the case. They'll tell us it's not in the public interest for us to find out that some police officers aren't up to the job, or something... The only way I can see that we can counterbalance this is to put our own pressure on the CPS. Remind them that we're still watching, and that it'll hurt the public confidence in the independence of the CPS if they submit to the pressure. Well, it can't hurt to try, at least.
Tofulate
25/7/2009
It's not a verb I'd come across before, but it seems to involve adding extra words to a video - most often by adding subtitles with a phonetic interpretation of another language (or indeed of this language, incomprehesibly delivered), but sometimes by taking out the original audio and adding your literal interpretation of the video. I think the very best so far, though, is this praise song:
All together now: "there is a nude Czar in my mouth"... And just to show that it's not only those hip and happening new songs that work, there's Songs of Praise old-stylee too.
800 years
23/7/2009
is a hell of a thing to be a part of. To be honest, the exact start of what you could call a "university" at cambridge is murky, but the 1209 date has some logic to it - it's as fair a date as any, and gives us something to peg ourselves onto. So this year is the 800th anniversary of my university...
It's a pretty big deal in all sorts of ways, but one of the elements of life that seems to reflect that history best is our choirs. As I've said before, a college choir is something I'm immensely lucky to be a part of, and I'm very proud of the one or two of Robinson (along with a few others ;-)) who popped over to London last night to put on a prom. Get your listening ears on, and clock onto that.
Tanzania in words
16/7/2009
It's taken me almost exactly a year to get my diaries from Tanzania onto a computer. If you want to brave them (they do go on a bit ;-)) I've added them as normal news updates, so they start here with the few I'd managed to upload from out there, then work up that page, then to "next month" and so on. It feels very silly that it's taken me longer to put my words up than it's taken Tom to actually go back to Yamba, but there it is... Missing it all over again, of course.
Cornwall
8/7/2009
If you read this post to yourself in a Cornish accent, it will add to your general enjoyment of life, and my sense of satisfaction :-)
I've been down to the last county in England for a few days, with some friends from College. Cleverly, of course, I forgot to take my camera, so none of the escapades, or indeed a couple of gorgeous bits of scenery, are recorded (I'm particularly sad I couldn't photograph the sea last night, when the full moon shone through a small break in the clouds to pick out a small patch of the purple night in silver). Despite that small problem, it's been wonderful fun. The visit to the monkey sanctuary only reinforced our desire to have a monkey in our lives, though the sanctuary folk were very clear that keeping them as pets around the house is a bad idea. The plan now involves persuading college to convert one of the gardens to a monkey sanctuary, and getting 5 or 6 to keep each other entertained ;-)
Last night's beach barbeque was also a highlight - and I felt like a proper man when we actually made ourselves a real bonfire with nothing but matches and the wood we could scavenge from the beach itself. Well, OK, we used a bit of cardboard that the disposable barbeque had come in to start it, but still... As an added bonus, I don't seem to have got salmonella from the chicken I cooked on the fire, either, so all in all it can be judged a success. It did remind me how much I miss being around the sea, though.
Choiry thoughts
29/6/2009
For a fair while I've been wondering whether I should give up Choir next year. It has rather a tendency of getting in the way of other things, and has (at least this year) been more political than I would've liked. I'd certainly never regret having had this year - my first real singing since my voice broke has introduced me to all sorts of wonderful things - but I wondered whether maybe next year would be the right time to try other things.
I think, though, that it was on Friday night, as a dozen choristers returned from a storm-washed punting trip, that I realised that I couldn't do that. It may stop me from doing other things, but it's worth missing other things for the sake of choral music. It may have been overly political, but I shouldn't be so easily lead that other people's disappointment (in comparison with more glorious years) stops me appreciating the experience. And moments like last Friday night, where a few people come together and can just make beautiful music, without having to think about it, are very special.
Then there's the small matter of my friends. I can't decide who my "core friends" at Cambridge are - or indeed if I should think of any 1 group like that - but there are few people I so often socialise with as the rabble of a choir formal, so it's no surprise that they're strong contenders for the title :-P. I can't imagine ever wanting to lose this package, (minor) warts and all...
MAY WEEK
29/6/2009
Cambridge life is rarely on quite one-to-one terms with reality, so it shouldn't be too surprising that May Week is in June. Or indeed that it's roughly ten days long. Mine began with a mounting excitement as I saw Robinson May Ball being built around college - to be honest, probably the most exciting side of it for the techie geek in me was following all the 63amp cables (that's Big Power) round, working out where it all goes... I realised that much of what excites me about theatre teching, and indeed part of what excites me about greenbelt, has an analogue on the production side of a May Ball. I may find it hard to resist having a go at that next year.
Once the ball itself started, though, I was just caught up in it. From the glass of pink champagne that they served as I arrived to the morning paper we were given as we left, everywhere held new excitements. I felt rather like an 8 year-old, rushing from one new stimulus to another. Why has my life until now held such an absence of chocolate fountains? And my first ball pit for ever such a long time. Fireworks that excited me more than they have since the first time I saw them, and were undoubtedly the most impressive I'd ever seen. DJ Yoda, who may have a stupid name but played a superb set with some absolutely top tunes. Right the way through to Molly and the Johnsons, who managed to keep people on their feet even at 5am, when the sun had clearly risen and we all felt a bit disorientated. On reflection, I realised this was another time to feel really very proud of my college - we can put on a Ball that lacks nothing that one should expect, but which costs £75 - £30 less than any of the other colleges can manage to produce one for (and half the price of, for instance, Magdalene, who's only draw is a stricter dress-code).
Despite all these wonderful diversions, though, undoubtedly the best thing about Robinson ball was that, with the exception of the ADC mob and a few theologians, almost everyone I like spending time with in Cambridge was there. I could spend an hour dancing to DJ Yoda with my Robinson fresher friends, before listening to Collegium Regale with choir friends, stopping in between to laugh at Joachim's post-impalement adventures in the ball pit (long story). A week later I worked at Corpus' Ball, and on the surface it should have been just as good - perhaps better - but the lack of ubiqutous friends* (and, perhaps, the ability to drink), it just couldn't compare, as far as I was concerned. Admittedly, Robinson was so perfect that others may struggle to ever live up to it, I can only wait and see.
Two days later came Suicide Sunday (apparently so-called because in the ancient past results were announced then; it now takes a little longer, and the only potentially-suicidal aspect of the day is the quantity imbibed by certain drinking societies). Mine was rather more sedate, with the morning spent with theatre types (although I had to miss the ADC and the SoD garden parties, I could at least get to the ETG/CAST one), followed by the last choral evensong of the year and the choir garden party. From their a hard-core of the choir wandered up to New Hall for their garden party, which (since they don't have a ball) they Do Properly. A wonderful afternoon of sun, summery music, food, drink and friends, and an evening watching silly films. I'd never fully recognised quite how racist Bedknobs and Broomsticks is, though :-(.
In effect, that was the pattern for the week - and perhaps it would be silly to recount it too many times. Further highlights, tho, included watching Johns and Queens fireworks synchronised to try to outdo each other, each one slightly better than the last, from an excellent viewing spot at the corner of the UL, and a spot of work for the production company that put together the Tit Hall June event - the first time I've been paid for techie work, and it'll fund much of May Week. Then the week ended with results (for which, see below...). All in all, pretty content ;-)
*Not to downplay the value of Alex and Joachim, of course ;-)
Exam season
29/6/2009
I felt pretty weird going into these exams. On the one hand, they were to be the first taste of Cambridge exams, which has to be a pretty big deal, and I couldn't be confident of a safe result without much effort. But on the other, there was a feeling that being mediocre was OK - the female parent has helpfully insisted at regular intervals that it was perfectly OK to get a 2.i, so for the first time I didn't feel the need to challenge myself to be the best I know. I had the Cambridge ideal to refer to - these are the cleverest people in the country, so there's no need for me to try to keep pace with the best of them. But on the gripping hand* that desire is hard to drop, and besides I felt like I'd revised peculiarly badly - it was very frustrating to just stare at the pages and feel nothing go in, particularly since so much of Cambridge revision is actually the first time you look at something (since when you write an essay you concentrate on one thread in a particular core text, and when it comes to the exam it might well not be that thread which is picked up on).
So ultimately I didn't know what to expect of them. I knew my supervisors reports mostly said I should be looking at a 2.i, some saying I could get a first if I pushed myself. But I didn't know what it felt like to write a 2.i exam - if I think I've done really well, is that the standard of a first? Or is that a 2.i? Or, given that this is Cambridge, a 2.ii? Of course, at this stage it doesn't matter unduly - these results don't count towards my final degree, so all I really have to do is scrape enough marks to stop the university chucking me out (which is apparently pretty hard to fail to do). I did want to do as well as I could on the philosophy paper, though, since the plan was to take 3 papers from the theology faculty and one from philosophy next year - and there's no official way to do this, so I'd have to rely on impressing people with my philosophical prowess ;-)
First up was sociology, which I really didn't give two figs about. Felt fine, I guessed it'd be a 2.i, so was perfectly happy with that. Next, tho, was the one that mattered, philosophy. From this safe distance it's hard to bring back the feelings in my head as I left that exam, but perhaps the best taste I can give is to quote the email I sent to the mother just afterwards:
FUCK SHIT FUCKING SHITTING FUCK
that is all
Fortunately I had a weekend off to recover my mental state before the New Testament paper, and in what looked like a very good omen both the readings in Chapel on the Sunday evening before the exam were taken from the set texts (the "Nazareth manifesto" in Luke 4 and a bit of the Pentecost story in Acts 2). As it turned out, neither of those bits of the set texts actually came up, but it felt pretty good nonetheless - I could answer fairly standard essay questions on Luke's inclusion of the poor, and his attitude to Rome throughout Luke and Acts - so the fact that the detailed commentary question was on a section of Acts that I didn't know much about didn't bother me hugely. Greek the next day was largely OK, but had the worrying flaw that I couldn't make head or tail of what John was saying at the beginning of his first letter... I'm pretty sure it wasn't really a sentence at all :-P That just left the Christology paper, which had possibly the most wonderfully friendly exam question I've ever seen. Along the lines of "comment on the Christological work of either Maximus or Charles Gore", which basically means I can write anything I like about whichever of them I chose, as long as it's vaguely intelligent. Given that I'm a big fan of both Maximus and Gore, that was a real pleasure. Add in a fairly standard "quest for the historical Jesus" question, one on the historicity of the resurrection, and some Bonhoeffer, and you've got a pretty good paper as far as Giles is concerned.
And releasing the tension of the past month or so involved getting walking-into-trees drunk on cheap champagne in a punt full of theologians... a good way to end a day.
Although results didn't come around til the end of May Week, I think they fit more into this story than that one. They're posted up in class lists at the Senate House in the middle of Cambridge, but despite that I felt remarkably relaxed as I went to get mine - I don't really know whether I thought I'd done well, or whether I'd finally come to accept what I'd been telling myself all year, that it didn't really matter what I got, as long as I didn't outright fail. Whatever it was, I have to say it was a very nice surprise to see my name among the four that had been awarded firsts this year! Equally pleasing is the fact that the 2 people with stars next to their firsts (even better than an ordinary first...) are friends :-). The mark breakdown which arrived a few days later helpfully reminded me that I know nothing, though - my second highest mark was in philosophy, and the two lowest were new testament and sociology, both of which had felt fairly comfortable. I should probably give up forming any judgement of how I've done in any form of assessment, since I'm always wrong...
*See, you learn something new every day ;-)
Giles' political discontent blog
18/5/2009
It's been a busy few weeks here - my first mainshow in a design role, lots of exam stress, and some lovely Cambridge in summer moments - but I'm not going to tell you about that, of course... No, in what is rapidly becoming the Giles Fleming Political Discontent Blog, I bring you this story. In essence, the chief constable of the Avon and Somerset police has decided that his force doesn't have to follow court orders. If they seize an individual's personal property unlawfully, and the individual fights through the courts - the only means available to him - for redress, and it's shown that the individual is in the right, so the police must return the property, what happens? Why, they just refuse... They ignore the law... Cos who's gonna stop us, huh?
PS - if anyone knows what the state of play is with the G20 investigations, please let me know. I haven't found anywhere that's still covering it.