I can’t not blog about what is currently dominating the world news - the death of Michael Jackson. Everywhere you go his songs are blaring from windows of houses, cars, shops and every TV channel seems to be rerunning documentaries or videos. Understandable I guess - since he was always newsworthy in life he will be even more so in death. I was genuinely saddened to hear the news but not surprised. I have been expecting it for a couple of years now. In fact I’m surprised it hasn’t happened sooner. Michael Jackson died a long time ago - it’s just that now we have to accept it. I have deliberately chosen a photo from when he was a fresh young talent rather than the sad monster he turned himself into. If there is ever a good reason not to encourage your kids to seek fame early, Michael Jackson has to be the most poignant. I’m of the generation that witnessed him explode onto the scene with his brothers as the lead singer in The Jackson Five. I was an avid Tamla Motown fan and The J5 were no exception. He was preposterously talented for such a young boy and the hits kept coming. When he went solo he didn’t disappoint but by the time Thriller had elevated him to godlike status the signs were all there that something very wrong was taking place. His story (sorry for the pun) was one of tortured genius and cruel isolation from all that was real life. He lived in a world of his own making and it was not Neverland - far from it. It was more like the Island of Dr Moreau (H.G.Wells) a place full of hideous monsters. Hopefully MJ is finally at peace and all that remains is for the world to deify him and forget all the ambiguities of his disparately sad life. We prefer our heroes dead because we don’t have to confront the inadequacies of their reality. He will live on in his music and in the footage of his unearthly dance moves. However, we would do well not to gloss over the sad truth that his tragic life is a salutary warning that ‘celebrity’ - the 21st Century sickness - is not the panacea many would like to imagine it to be.
iTunes reminded me today that it is 25 years since the film Ghostbusters took us all by storm with just about every aspect of the film. Great idea, great script, great cast, great . TWENTY FIVE YEARS!! Without realising the significance I happened to watch it again a couple of days ago on day time cable and of course I laughed and smiled all the way through. Bill Murray is legendary, Rick Moranis fantastic and Sigourney Weaver - well - Sigourney Weaver. I saw it with some friends while at college and again when my kids were old enough to get it and again whenever I need a lift. As another bonus I also remembered that I bought the Commodore 64 game Ghostbusters which was absolutely groundbreaking stuff - especially the vocal “He slimed me!” using the SID chip and some clever programming - all on 64k of memory - less than 1 megabyte! In reality it was a pretty impossible game to complete (for me at least) but the sound alone was worth it. So, happy anniversary Ghostbusters and thanks for the memories.
For a while I subscribed to an organisation called Shift In Action - Institute of Noetic Science. It was founded by Ed Mitchell one of the Apollo Astronauts following a life changing epiphany whilst in space looking at the earth from his tiny craft. He became convinced that science and spirituality could form an important partnership for the good of humanity. It’s an interesting organisation and whilst I didn’t buy everything that came out of it (some stuff is a little wacky!) I was impressed with much of the aims and objectives. The video accompanying this post is inspirational and I have signed up to hear more about the film it promotes - have a look and see what you think.
Today I saw a sight that warmed my heart instantly - and set me thinking. From 0ut of nowhere two little girls, around eight years old, came skipping along with huge smiles on their faces. I was transported back to my own childhood remembering when I first learned to skip. Now, I’m talking about the kind of skipping that doesn’t involve a rope, you know - that not quite walking and not quite jogging way of getting from A to B. Seeing these two little kids joyously skipping along I found myself wondering exactly when it was that I stopped skipping. For that matter when did any of us over ten years old stop skipping? Skipping may be one of the defining activities of what it means to be a child. The other thing about skipping as a mode of transport is that it is almost impossible to do without a) smiling and b) singing or la la la-ing a song of some sort. I am also asking myself not only when did we stop skipping but why did we stop skipping? If we continued to skip as adults the world might be a less violent, serious, and negative place. Imagine our politicians skipping from place to place? Or the armies of the world skipping instead of frog marching? What if we skipped to keep fit instead of jogging? Surely the world would be a more peaceful, joyful and even hilarious place. I’m going to start skipping to work - OK, I will get some funny looks but, who knows? maybe it could catch on go on, I dare you . . .
NB. Seems I may have touched on something here - check out the comment from Kim below and follow the link to iSkip.com - a whole website dedicated to encouraging adults to get back to skipping! Found this very funny clip of comedian Michael McIntyre talking about skipping -
Getting to the gym is a self imposed necessity regardless of whether it is actually doing me any good from a fitness point of view. Truth is, on Gym days I look for the slightest excuse to dodge it but when I can’t find one and I get there, I quite enjoy it. I run. I row. I push a few light weights around. I even look at myself in the mirrors. But I couldn’t do any of this without the personal motivator that is my iPod. I often just let it play on random using a playlist I named ‘Inspire‘. I secretly hope that I can will certain tracks to fire up just when I need the extra boost to finish the final few laps as I run the New York Marathon in my head. One such track is Sleep Deprivation by the wonderful Simian Mobile Disco - I defy anyone NOT to be perked up by this one - press play, crank up the volume and jump around the room like a loon! So good - when it does come on I look a bit like Brad Pit in Burn After Reading (not in a studly way - more in a geeky weird way - see the film). As a bonus I include below SMD’s remix of Knights Of Cydonia since I am also a big Muse fan - it’s different - stick with it.
Listen to Sleep Deprivation
In response to my post about Nietzshe on my other blog from Katie in the UK I glanced across at one of my Billy Bookshelves and - completely at random - picked out five books from my collection - so here they are;
Banana Rose - Natalie Goldberg : I came across this novel because of her book on writing called Writing Down The Bones. Sadly, and somewhat ironically since Bones is a book about how to write, the novel could not be described as a classic. It’s a memoir of happy hippy days and female emancipation which in the end is just a bit dull.
Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer : I picked this up whilst on holiday in New York a couple of years back. I wanted to read a novel which was set in NYC so that I could feel more a part of it. This book did not disappoint. It is a quite incredible tale of a small boy, Oskar, who finds a key in his dead fathers closet and sets of in search of what it is meant to open. His father was killed in the collapse of the Twin Towers and the story is tender and breathtaking as well as funny - great read.
Billy Liar by Keith Waterhouse : Billy is a 19 year old northern lad who is bored with his small town existence and indulges in fantastical daydreams which have hilarious consequences. It was made into a film with Tom Courtney as well as a TV series which is what led me to the book. I was around the same age as Billy when I used to watch the TV series and inevitably identified very strongly with him. It’s a fun book and worth picking up in a second hand book store.
God For Nothing by Richard MacKenna : I read this whilst doing my Theology degree in Nottingham and it had a profound impact on me. MacKenna was an out of work actor working as an agony aunt for a women’s magazine before being ordained into the Anglican church. He wrote the book based on his experiences and reflections during his curacy. The title comes from an encounter he has with a woman who he was visiting after the death of her husband. In the course of the conversation she suddenly burst out with “Fuck God he’s God for nothing!” she had meant to say ‘good for nothing’ but in her state it came out as ‘God for nothing’. An honest and for me transformational book.
Finally, Rolf On Art by - well - Rolf of course! Rolf Harris is a legend for my generation. I remember as a child watching him on Saturday night TV as he told a story whilst painting a huge canvas on stage. His catchphrase “Can you see what it is yet?” still brings a smile to my face. The book was a present and is based on his TV series where he looks at the great masters and tries to paint in their style. One of the best things he did was to paint the Queens portrait for one of his programmes - it was a classic. Only Rolf could have got away with being so casual with the Queen who most of the time looked completely bemused.
So, there are just five random books from my collection - what about yours?
So, I’m sitting in the lounge when I hear manic laughter ringing out from the garden below. But wait! That’s not laughter, it’s the distinctive and highly amusing call of the Kookaburra! I rushed to grab my camera and managed to snap a quick photo before it flew away. In that one moment I am transported back to my childhood in the UK when I first heard about this strange laughing bird. I was about 8yrs old listening to the story Kurri Kurri the Kookaburra being read to the class by Mr Cartlidge my teacher. He was an excellent reader and his rendition of the cackling laughter of the Kookaburra captured my imagination. For some reason when I was older in secondary school me and a few mates went through a phase of calling each other by imitating the Kookaburra laugh. Happy days! Back then I would never have believed that I would one day be looking at a real live Kookaburra in my garden. They’re not that common in the suburbs anymore so it was a real treat to have it visit. I checked out some facts about the Kookaburra on Wikipedia and was shocked to read that aparently Kookaburras were found by English men in the middle of the eighteenth century. How anglocentric! As if they just appeared out of nowhere when the white man came on the scene - this really won’t do! They, along with the indiginous peoples of Australia had been around for a very long time before being found by English men.
. . . . but I’m back and hoping to keep the blog up to date. I’ve had to switch web-host and in the transition a lot of my image and mp3 files have got lost in the ether so if you trawl through the archives there will be a lot of links that don’t work. It would be too much effort to update them all and I guess nobody will be that bothered! I am attempting to keep two blogs on the go - this one for more general and personal items and mytinymind for the more theological, spiritual and crazy stuff! So, if your brave enough head over and see what you think - meanwhile, if you do drop by leave a comment and let me know . . . .
And so I experienced my first carol service in the sun. Surreal experience it was. A good crowd of us gathered on the lawn outside the church spreading out our blankets and sharing sandwiches and sausage rolls. The wine glasses clinked and laughter drifted through the air before the call to worship summoned us inside. It was cooler outside and I’m thinking next year we should at least hold part of it outside maybe reaching the climax inside the building. I still find it hard to fully enter into the sense of the season but everyone was in good voice and seemed to enjoy the event. I even gave my own rendition of In The Bleak Midwinter at the piano - a carol not surprisingly pretty much unknown in Australia! It brought a kind of Pommie irony to the whole event. So, it may be time to put up a few fairy lights on the decking at last . . . .
Some friends back home in the UK have created quite a stir with their brilliant Advent Calendar idea.They are part of an initiative that call themselves BEYOND and describe themselves as an opportunity for people to explore spirituality through a variety of creative approaches. The aims of BEYOND are To help people to a deeper understanding of spirituality through the arts and other creative activities. • To explore non-traditional ways of being Christian. • To be a resource for church people who wish to further explore their relationship with God. They might also be described as a Fresh Expression of church - an alternative to the norm and their Advent activity this year is all of these things. Visit their web page to find out more about their Beach Hut Advent Calendar installation along Brighton and Hove seafront. This is a bold and exciting attempt to engage people in thinking about the Christmas story throughout December using the simple advent calendar idea and going beyond what most people might expect. It’s a project that has captured the imagination of many and also drawn interest from the local and national press. Well done Martin and Sally - what a fantastic idea - have a great Christmas!
I can’t not blog about what is currently dominating the world news - the death of Michael Jackson. Everywhere you go his songs are blaring from windows of houses, cars, shops and every TV channel seems to be rerunning documentaries or videos. Understandable I guess - since he was always newsworthy in life he will be even more so in death. I was genuinely saddened to hear the news but not surprised. I have been expecting it for a couple of years now. In fact I’m surprised it hasn’t happened sooner. Michael Jackson died a long time ago - it’s just that now we have to accept it. I have deliberately chosen a photo from when he was a fresh young talent rather than the sad monster he turned himself into. If there is ever a good reason not to encourage your kids to seek fame early, Michael Jackson has to be the most poignant. I’m of the generation that witnessed him explode onto the scene with his brothers as the lead singer in The Jackson Five. I was an avid Tamla Motown fan and The J5 were no exception. He was preposterously talented for such a young boy and the hits kept coming. When he went solo he didn’t disappoint but by the time Thriller had elevated him to godlike status the signs were all there that something very wrong was taking place. His story (sorry for the pun) was one of tortured genius and cruel isolation from all that was real life. He lived in a world of his own making and it was not Neverland - far from it. It was more like the Island of Dr Moreau (H.G.Wells) a place full of hideous monsters. Hopefully MJ is finally at peace and all that remains is for the world to deify him and forget all the ambiguities of his disparately sad life. We prefer our heroes dead because we don’t have to confront the inadequacies of their reality. He will live on in his music and in the footage of his unearthly dance moves. However, we would do well not to gloss over the sad truth that his tragic life is a salutary warning that ‘celebrity’ - the 21st Century sickness - is not the panacea many would like to imagine it to be.
iTunes reminded me today that it is 25 years since the film Ghostbusters took us all by storm with just about every aspect of the film. Great idea, great script, great cast, great . TWENTY FIVE YEARS!! Without realising the significance I happened to watch it again a couple of days ago on day time cable and of course I laughed and smiled all the way through. Bill Murray is legendary, Rick Moranis fantastic and Sigourney Weaver - well - Sigourney Weaver. I saw it with some friends while at college and again when my kids were old enough to get it and again whenever I need a lift. As another bonus I also remembered that I bought the Commodore 64 game Ghostbusters which was absolutely groundbreaking stuff - especially the vocal “He slimed me!” using the SID chip and some clever programming - all on 64k of memory - less than 1 megabyte! In reality it was a pretty impossible game to complete (for me at least) but the sound alone was worth it. So, happy anniversary Ghostbusters and thanks for the memories.
Today I saw a sight that warmed my heart instantly - and set me thinking. From 0ut of nowhere two little girls, around eight years old, came skipping along with huge smiles on their faces. I was transported back to my own childhood remembering when I first learned to skip. Now, I’m talking about the kind of skipping that doesn’t involve a rope, you know - that not quite walking and not quite jogging way of getting from A to B. Seeing these two little kids joyously skipping along I found myself wondering exactly when it was that I stopped skipping. For that matter when did any of us over ten years old stop skipping? Skipping may be one of the defining activities of what it means to be a child. The other thing about skipping as a mode of transport is that it is almost impossible to do without a) smiling and b) singing or la la la-ing a song of some sort. I am also asking myself not only when did we stop skipping but why did we stop skipping? If we continued to skip as adults the world might be a less violent, serious, and negative place. Imagine our politicians skipping from place to place? Or the armies of the world skipping instead of frog marching? What if we skipped to keep fit instead of jogging? Surely the world would be a more peaceful, joyful and even hilarious place. I’m going to start skipping to work - OK, I will get some funny looks but, who knows? maybe it could catch on go on, I dare you . . .
Getting to the gym is a self imposed necessity regardless of whether it is actually doing me any good from a fitness point of view. Truth is, on Gym days I look for the slightest excuse to dodge it but when I can’t find one and I get there, I quite enjoy it. I run. I row. I push a few light weights around. I even look at myself in the mirrors. But I couldn’t do any of this without the personal motivator that is my iPod. I often just let it play on random using a playlist I named ‘Inspire‘. I secretly hope that I can will certain tracks to fire up just when I need the extra boost to finish the final few laps as I run the New York Marathon in my head. One such track is Sleep Deprivation by the wonderful Simian Mobile Disco - I defy anyone NOT to be perked up by this one - press play, crank up the volume and jump around the room like a loon! So good - when it does come on I look a bit like Brad Pit in Burn After Reading (not in a studly way - more in a geeky weird way - see the film). As a bonus I include below SMD’s remix of Knights Of Cydonia since I am also a big Muse fan - it’s different - stick with it.
In response to my post about Nietzshe on my other 
And so I experienced my first carol service in the sun. Surreal experience it was. A good crowd of us gathered on the lawn outside the church spreading out our blankets and sharing sandwiches and sausage rolls. The wine glasses clinked and laughter drifted through the air before the call to worship summoned us inside. It was cooler outside and I’m thinking next year we should at least hold part of it outside maybe reaching the climax inside the building. I still find it hard to fully enter into the sense of the season but everyone was in good voice and seemed to enjoy the event. I even gave my own rendition of In The Bleak Midwinter at the piano - a carol not surprisingly pretty much unknown in Australia! It brought a kind of Pommie irony to the whole event. So, it may be time to put up a few fairy lights on the decking at last . . . .
Some friends back home in the UK have created quite a stir with their brilliant Advent Calendar idea.They are part of an initiative that call themselves