The Hangover

Part Two. No, it's not me. It's a movie. A sequel. Kind of. The three original characters from the (quite hilarious) 2009 film are transplanted from Vegas to Bangkok where a similar, nightmarish alcoholic blackout causes them all to retrace totally forgotten drunken steps. Three American men with a shared history of misbehaviour travel to Thailand for the wedding of one of them, a dignified and slightly anally retentive dentist  who is marrying a beautiful, educated Thai girl from a highly respected family. One little drink on the beach then morphs into an awakening with a drug dealer in a seedy Bangkok hotel room who promptly dies after snorting a line of coke, a missing teenage genius brother of the bride and a bridegroom with a quite fetching, if large, facial tattoo. Imagine the unimaginable and it probably happened. There isn't really a story, more a concatenation of retrospective and highly unfortunate series of events, pieced together painfully and appallingly slowly around the general theme of finding the missing boy.  In case it's not obvious, this is not suitable for children It's violent, crass, offensive to every conceivable interest group, and liberally besprinkled with profanity and male nudity - yes, being Bangkok - a transsexual prostitute puts in an appearance with whom, apparently, the bridegroom-to-be had consensual gay carnal relations. Oh, dear. The whole point seemed to be to to make even seen-it-all-done-it-all adults laugh in shock at each dawning, ever more shameful recollection. 

It was awful. Why, then? Because it served as an object lesson to remind me why Uncle Jack and I parted company several years ago. But, it never got quite that bad, did it? I really can't remember.

Blither and Squiff

There being little that has captured my attention in recent times - apart from a surfeit of violence just about everywhere, I feel justified in returning to a familiar theme. Not 'the two-state solution' - why not simply expand the  State of Israel to include everything from Syria to Yemen - that'd give the Palestinians a bit more room to move - no.  As the end of term gallops ever closer, I find myself trying to be gracious, tolerant and fair when compiling student reports, always an exercise in creative fiction and  which I'm not very good at any more, tending to say what I want to say rather than that which I am expected, indeed 'told' to.

In a similar vein, I am almost never ‘told’ I must be tolerant of other people’s religion, except by unctuous politicians seeking re-election who tell everyone on prime time TV. It’s just expected that ‘civilised people’ have no moral or intellectual scruple about  rational acquiescence to the notion that others may hold different opinions to their own. The validity of such opinions can and perhaps should be challenged since it’s logically fallacious to suppose that just because a large number of people have been persuaded by crappy logic it isn’t necessarily either right or expedient. So with a large, powerful lobby group who in my view cruelly and despicably determined to raise a triumphalist mosque near the site of the atrocities of 9/11 in New York, am I supposed to simply be tolerant?

Furthermore, I find myself wondering which tenet of their religion do you mean?  A religion, after all, is a system of beliefs and to say that all beliefs are equally worthy of tolerance is to say, essentially, that ideas don’t matter at all.  It’s just blither and squiff.

For instance, I always try not to think about burning or beheading those who hold different views on transubstantiation than I do – though there are days when it’s difficult, believe me, especially when such views are accompanied by the cushioned arrogance which a belief in Tradition tends to foster.  Whiffs of Popery have the stink of enslavement about them and I do think that Anglicans with Catholic, misogynistic tendencies who hide behind esoteric theology condemning the priesthood of women ought to just bugger off back to Rome where they belong. By contrast, if, like those Westboro Baptist clowns, you turn up at an American soldier's funeral claiming he deserved to die because America tolerates homosexuality and “God hates fags,” then you’re off my Facebook list for good. Because your beliefs suck.

Mildew And Rust

When I didn’t think the Church could possibly get any weirder, someone sent me a link the other day of a video of a Catholic priest invoking God’s mercy on the current drought in rural France, a ritual first celebrated in 511CE. It’s Rogation Sunday shortly – one of four, apparently. The word "Rogation" comes from the Latin rogare, meaning "to ask," and was applied to this time of the liturgical year because the Gospel reading for the previous Sunday included the passage "Ask and ye shall receive" (John 16:24). God obviously has the ‘out to lunch’ sign up the rest of the time. More probably, the liturgy was bent to fit the season since its likely derivation is  from the Roman Robigalia which has exactly the same function, namely a pagan ritual involving prayer and sacrifice for a good crop and 'protection from mildew and rust' . Sunday marks the start of a three-week period (ending on Trinity Sunday), during which clergy – can’t imagine why - didn’t let people get married. In England,  Rogation Sunday is sometimes called Chestnut Sunday for reasons unspecified. No doubt TBP could tell me.

The faithful typically observed Rogation days by fasting in preparation to celebrate the Ascension, and farmers often had their crops blessed by a priest at this time, Violet vestments – rather jolly, don’t you think -  are worn at the rogation litany and its associated Mass, regardless of what colour was worn at the ordinary liturgies of the day. A common feature in former times was the ceremony of "beating the bounds", in which a procession of parishioners, led by the minister, churchwarden, and choirboys, would proceed around the boundary of their parish, marking territory by peeing in the corners perhaps, and pray for its protection in the forthcoming year. Let’s all march down the middle of the 30 - rush hour might be best – all we have to do is find an expendable choirboy or two and a couple of churchwardens. It was also known as 'Gang-Day', a precursor of ‘March for Jesus’, perhaps. In ancient times, it was followed by an alefest, thus guaranteeing participation. In Henry VIII's reign the occasion had become an excuse for so much revelry that it attracted the condemnation of a preacher who declared "these solemne and accustomable processions and supplications be nowe growen into a right foule and detestable abuse."  Ratso Joe it seems is quietly encouraging the revival of – er - ‘older rites’. Not surprising as the former head of the Inquisition. How about a good witch-burning?

Before the howls of protest, perhaps it’s just me getting older and less tolerant of (from my humble point of view) complete claptrap. Yes, it can be argued that some people need this kind of focus, but a solid encounter with a mighty, glorious, life-changing  Ruach HaKodesh might put a stop to much of the play-acting.

My Country, My Country

I love this country. The building site where I live provides shade and scale, in contrast to the flat, featureless desert landscapes others have to put up with. As a child, I had collections of plastic lorries and Caterpillar vehicles; now I can see up to thirty real ones, trundling, growling behemoths kicking up vast clouds of dust. What fun. Winter temperatures, with freezing noses and icy roads no longer trouble me. Instead, I can bask in the sunshine of temperatures in excess of 51 degrees Celsius, surely warm enough for anyone. It's a shame that my pool is almost always covered in a fine film of dust, otherwise I could take advantage of it more often. Sandstorms, we're told, seem to be becoming more frequent, generated in the Arabian furnaces, propelled by malevolent djinn and no longer confined to the summer months when expatriates are torn away from the deserts they love so much back home to more temperate climates. According to a study conducted by a US Navy researcher and reported by USA TODAY, US troops in Iraq, Afghanistan and Kuwait have inhaled microscopic dust particles laden with toxic metals,including aluminium, lead, tin and strontium-not counting any stray uranium from tank-busting missiles, also bacteria and fungi. If the troops have, all the rest of us have too. Quite alarming, really. The air we breathe has been described as a 'toxic stew' of bacteria and fungi. A toxic stew that may explain everything from the undiagnosed Gulf War Syndrome symptoms to high rates of respiratory, neurological and heart ailments. 


Now I understand why people walk around looking like this...

Big respect, of course. I don't know these charming ladies but no doubt their family members recognise them.


Must I really leave this delightful place in a little under three weeks?

Paradise Postponed. Again.

So, Paradise has been postponed, yet again. An elderly gentleman named Harold Camping predicted the Rapture on Saturday last, for the second time, it would seem. The first time in 1994 was a non-event because of less-than-perfect arithmetic and this one seems to have gone the same way. Poorly applied algorithms aren’t very reliable, unfortunately.  It’s now Monday, and I and all my believing friends seem to be all present and correct. My heart almost missed a beat when the principal failed to show up for work, but it transpired that he'd gone to Africa, not Paradise.  Nevertheless, scare tactics work as expectations of the Rapture have spurred so many interesting new business ventures for those willing to take a few risks.

There are a number of key problems with the Rapture as a business opportunity: first of all that many regular and loyal customers are looking forward to it, so presumably won’t be around for repeat sales. No worries. Unrighteous Mammon has ways around the absence of God.

Rapture businesses want to make your Rapture experience as uncomplicated, worry-free and profitable as possible. Here’s an example. A company called “Eternal Earth-Bound Pets” will take care of your abandoned dog or cat once you’ve been whisked off in the twinkling of an eye to bask in the presence of the Lord. The company charges $135 for the first animal companion and then $20 for each additional, payable in cash in advance - no cheques or credit cards. Further, the company promises it will still be around on the 22nd because, “…each of our representatives has signed an affidavit affirming that that they do not believe in God or Jesus, and that they have blasphemed suitably in accordance with Mark 3:29, thus negating any chance of salvation.” Pet counselling can be arranged for an additional charge. Unmissable, really, and certainly one less thing to fret about.


The Almighty was unavailable for comment although it was rumoured that there was a stony silence in  heaven for over half an hour since a senior seraph remarked that they hadn't seen Him quite this ticked off since Pat Robertson blamed a tsunami on the gays.

Excellent. I now see that my car service has been completed and I can be on my way very shortly. Home that is, not Heaven, traffic permitting.

One final, spooky little thought. Oprah is doing her final taping this week. Oblivion surely crooks its bony finger. Very soon.

The Right Man

Now that DSK is out of the running for the French Presidency it's a wide open field. As part of the selection procedure I think that potential candidates should fill out a questionnaire to determine their suitability for high office. This is a work in progress, obviously, but I thought something along these lines might be quite a promising start.

What's the greatest threat to world peace?

• Terrorism.
• Godlessness.
• Barack Hussein Obama.
• Intolerance.
• Environmental damage
• Barack Hussein Obama
• All of the above

What about the gays, then?

• They will Burn in Hell.
• Equal rights for all would be nice, but I can't see it happening somehow.
• As long as they stay in the Church where they belong, that's fine by me.
• Everyone should be eligible for a civil union. Including animals.
• Whatever.

Have you ever obliterated a village?

• Yes.
• No, but I want to.
• No, but I've killed the equivalent population of a small Siberian town.
• Only a simulated one online.
• Not that I can remember, but...
• Absolutely not. That would be cruel.

Abortion

• Women have the right to choose.
• Some women have the right to choose...
• It's murder.
• God does not condone it, so I don't either.
• Whatever.

Do you have a mistress?

• Of course I do. I thought it was compulsory.
• I have been flawlessly faithful to my lovely heiress wife for thirty years.
• I'm gay, you moron.

What about the plight of the homeless?

• They continue to be marginalised, and more must be done to help them.
• I'm afraid I don't know any.
• Who gives a shit? I certainly don't.
  
  

What was your stance on the war in Iraq?

• It was an illegal war, and frankly, I didn't trust the President's motives.
• We brought freedom to an oppressed people. Almost.
• We shouldn't be sticking our noses in other peoples' business.
• The price of fuel can alienate some voters.
• I'm mindful of the long-term environmental damage caused by depleted uranium.
• Whatever.

Stem cell research?

• I'm against it.
• I'm in favour.
• I really don't give a shit about trees.

What's your deepest, darkest secret?

• I was a crackhead and an alcoholic; I killed someone in a car crash, but I think I got away with it.
• I committed some questionable acts while part of the armed services.
• I frequently walk around with a concealed sidearm. It makes me feel secure, somehow.
• I may have shot and killed someone, but I'm not sure, being drunk at the time.
• I hate most people. All the time, as it happens.
• I'm squeaky clean. As a button. Really.

If you could have a catchphrase, what would it be?

• "Rock and roll!"
• “I'm glad you asked me that”
• "Well, that's a difficult question, and quite honestly ..."
• "For our children!"
• "Freedom!"
• “Father, forgive."
• All of the above. But not on the same occasion, of course.

I think this would go a long way towards weeding out unsuitable centrist candidates thus leaving a clear, unequivocal choice between Sarkozy and Le Pen.

Lucrece in New York

It's so French to see conspiracies everywhere; it's almost embedded in French culture. But the appalling charges levelled against Dominique Strauss-Kahn have caused more that a Gallic shrug in the Elysée Palace and amongst les bourgeois, who are normally remarkably tolerant of the sexual peccadilloes of their leaders, for whom seduction, sans violence, is an art form. This has exploded like a landmine, a sex scandal "à l'anglo saxonne" with dirty laundry billowing in a most unseemly fashion on Parisian boulevards. Like most breaking stories, fact and speculation become intertwined. Had he wanted to satisfy his bestial and corrupt desires, he would surely have had no problem, financial or otherwise, in engaging the services of a leggy $3000 a night escort, discretion guaranteed. Instead, he has been portrayed as a potential rapist, sodomite and kidnapper, which individually is bad enough but collectively scarcely credible. And, all before lunch as well. Did he 'flee the scene'? No, he had lunch then boarded his flight, having phoned the hotel since he'd left his mobile phone behind - the Press suggesting he 'left in haste'. It seems clear that something went on which wouldn't look good on his CV - perhaps he made some kind of pass at his accuser, an  African-American maid, but it takes considerable determination and physical intimidation to force a young woman to engage in unwilling fellatio.


So, is there a conspiracy? Three weeks ago, Strauss-Kahn evoked such a possibility in an interview with French newspaper Libération when he said he thought he was under surveillance and named the three principal difficulties he foresaw if he was to stand for the presidential elections.


"Money, women and the fact I am Jewish"


Oh, dear. A rich philanderer with sympathies in Tel Aviv - he might as well paint a target on himself. Meanwhile, he is a guest at Riker's Island, where he'll hopefully not get to be best friends with Abdullah, 230 pounds, the Taleban weightlifter from Kabul.

“The mightier man, the mightier is the thing 

That makes him honored or begets him hate; 

For greatest scandal waits on greatest state.” 

The Rape of Lucrece (Shakespeare)

Whatever else DSK turns out to be, he is no Tarquin and the maid is unlikely to suffer the same fate as Lucrece who stabs herself after being raped (image detail Paolo Veronese, 1583)

The presidential elections will have to wait. For quite some time.