In January I've run just over 260 km. This astonishes me. I first started running about three years ago in the gym in an attempt to get some measure of fitness back. On deciding I quite enjoyed the treadmill I thought I'd give proper running a go - and found it much harder. A km left me knackered, but before too long I was doing a few k once or twice a week. I set myself the goal of running three time a week, then four. I ran my first 10K, the Age UK Wrap Up and Run, in March 2013 and my first Half Marathon a year later. It isn’t too long since I couldn't imagine being able to run on two consecutive days but in the last month I've run to work and back and then run in the evening. I’ve signed up for the Yorkshire Marathon this year. Goals that I wouldn't even have considered aiming for are behind me without me even realising it. Somehow, I've become a runner.
Sunday, 8 February 2015
Saturday, 17 January 2015
The pope is a right Charlie
Pope Francis has just spoken out in support of terrorism. I’m guessing that this isn’t what he meant to do, but that was the meaning of his words. He said that if someone insulted his mother they could expect a punch in the face, and insulting someone’s religion was much the same thing. “You can’t insult someone’s faith,” he said. If that isn’t saying that the Charlie Hebdo people were basically asking for what happened, I don’t know what is.
Do I have the right to insult the Pope’s mother? Yes, I do. Would doing so without good reason make me an arsehole? Yes, it would - and there is but one commandment; try not to be a dick. However, I could criticise the Pope’s mother if I thought I had good reason to do so (I’m sure she is a lovely woman and she seems to have raised a son with, generally speaking, a good social conscience, so well done her). Likewise, I can criticise a religion - or any idea or set of ideas. And that is an important difference; a religion IS a set of ideas and is not a person. It is open to criticism, yes, and if the the ideas are ridiculous they are open to ridicule. And the people who believe those ideas are, by definition, not the ones who decide whether what I say is opinion, criticism or insult. If I say that, because there is no god, Christ was not divine - or, in fact, there is no evidence that such a person actually existed - or that, for the same reason, Muhammad was not inspired by god you may feel insulted by these statements but they are not inherently insulting.
But, you may ask, isn’t Muhammad a person? Well, he certainly was a real person but, as I say, I do have the right to insult a person although doing so may make me an arsehole. However, as a supposed prophet and founder of a religion, Muhammad has become an idea more than a person and, what is more, the very act of saying that you are not allowed to criticise someone or something makes it almost a duty to do so. That is the case whether this is a political figure like the current Turkish prime minister or a religious one.
And, don’t forget, while my criticism of religion may be overt all religions criticise the others by their very existence; for example, the tenets of Islam and Judaism state Jesus Christ was not divine, thereby entirely negating the reason for the existence of Christianity. All religions state that they have the one truth so, by definition, the adherents of the others are at least misguided. As an atheist I say that all the religions are correct, on this one point at least. And it is my right to do so. If there are ridiculous ideas that I think are doing harm, I will ridicule them. If you do bad things and I think part of the reason you do them is the ideas you hold - or those ideas are the reasons you give for doing those things - I will criticise and possibly insult you. If you are a good person, I don’t really care if you hold some beliefs that I find silly; I almost certainly hold some that you do, too. Maybe we can have a friendly debate. I fully recognise that trading insults is not an effective way to win an argument but if you place even the possibility of debate out of bounds, then expect some ripe and inventive abuse.
Tuesday, 30 December 2014
Sleeplessness and shift work
Late shift today followed by a 9 AM start tomorrow, purely because the call centre closes at 5.30 on New Year's Eve. Which is a good thing, but getting home only to head back to work 11 hours later is something I've not done for a while. And, as I broke my bike chain heading into work today i shall be relying on public transport. Added to that, been awake since before 2 this morning, horrible night of insomnia. If only that guaranteed I would sleep tonight.
Moan, moan, moan.
Moan, moan, moan.
Monday, 29 December 2014
29/12/2014
Almost missed posting today.
Late shifts today and tomorrow, really does make my day feel like nothing but work. I keep meaning to rise early so I can get stuff done before heading in, but it's hard to get my head down too soon after getting home. I should get my arse in gear to look for another job; this one isn't terrible, but it doesn't have a lot in the way of job satisfaction and the shiftwork is starting to get to me. If I could get something 9-5, and/or something that I could get my teeth into - and that paid even close to what this does - I'd jump ship so fast. Or I could knuckle down and write. Even if that doesn't pay it would give me some sort of satisfaction, and I know I used to be able to write, at least to write half decent prose, but feeling that I have something worth saying is another matter.
Late shifts today and tomorrow, really does make my day feel like nothing but work. I keep meaning to rise early so I can get stuff done before heading in, but it's hard to get my head down too soon after getting home. I should get my arse in gear to look for another job; this one isn't terrible, but it doesn't have a lot in the way of job satisfaction and the shiftwork is starting to get to me. If I could get something 9-5, and/or something that I could get my teeth into - and that paid even close to what this does - I'd jump ship so fast. Or I could knuckle down and write. Even if that doesn't pay it would give me some sort of satisfaction, and I know I used to be able to write, at least to write half decent prose, but feeling that I have something worth saying is another matter.
Sunday, 28 December 2014
Dinner and a movie
My usual Sunday evening is going to my dad's, making tea (this evening being chicken breasts in a honey & mustard glaze with creamy leek and mushroom tagliatelle. That's right; all this and I cook, too. Sorry, ladies, I'm spoken for). This is also usually followed by a movie, a DVD I've taken over that I think my dad and Margaret should enjoy. Yes, I do look upon this partly as an educational endeavor, introducing them to good films they probably wouldn't seek out of their own accord and, I confess, success has been mixed. They loved Stranger Than Fiction and Little Miss Sunshine, were bored by The Royal Tenenbaums and confused by The Prestige. I think I'll hold off on Adaptation, Rashomon and Pan's Labyrinth.
Tonight we had a selection but went for Life of Pi, a film I saw at the cinema and loved. I know a lot of religious people came out of it and loved it because it "affirmed the importance of faith" and I know some atheists who hated it because they saw a new-agey, there-are-many-paths-to-god message. I think that both are wrong, although I guess also kind of right.
Firstly, I love this movie because of the quality of the film-making; as well as the visuals, which are utterly stunning, the pacing and storytelling are superb. I think this is a masterclass in film making. But I also love the story. Let me get this straight; I am a hard-line atheist, often anti-theist - I believe that the denial of critical thinking and reliance on moral authority that religion often teaches is a terrible burden on humanity. I think there is a clear correlation; that it is perfectly clear that parts of the world that are more in thrall to this sort of belief are less humans and civilised and those that have shaken it off more so. So, no bush-beating here.
And there is undoubtedly a religious message in this film, and the Yann Martell book upon which it is based (I had read the book before seeing the movie - yay for me - so it is possible that I see more layers than the more visual art form allows, although I think Ang Lee and scriptwriter David Magee do a superb job of conveying these). But I do think many people miss a subtlety which, frankly, isn't all that subtle. At the end, after the story of survival, all those weeks at see in a small lifeboat with a Bengal tiger, when asked if this is true, Pi gives another possibility. Perhaps it is all a metaphor. Perhaps the hyena was the vile ships cook and the zebra the Buddhist sailor and the orangutan his mother - and he was the tiger. The the cook allowed the sailor to die and used his flesh for bait to catch fish - maybe even ate some of it - and in an argument killed Pi's mother. And that Pi, the tiger, killed him. That the story the film has told us in those spectacular visuals is a metaphor that Pi has created to allow himself to survive, to live with the events. And when it is put to him bluntly, "But which is true?" Pi answers: "which story do you prefer?"
And this isn't a cop out. Pi's early life of absorbing the ideas of Hinduism and Christianity and Islam, following all of them equally, fits this perfectly. On one level it is saying that there is truth and there is a good story and that, all being equal, sometimes it is fine to go with the good story. But rather than be a pure expression of faith this leaves multiple interpretations. Pi, as the narrator who has laid this tale before us, is fully aware of the disconnect between that which is factual and those stories we tell ourselves to get by. Sometimes it may be better to accept the internally consistent tale that makes us feel better but is just a pretty story. This is by no means a clear-cut, comfortable ending from any viewpoint, and leaves me, at least, pondering how we construct the reality that we live through.
The fact that the film - and the book - can be interpreted in multiple ways, has multiple readings, for me simply reinforces how excellent it is.
Tonight we had a selection but went for Life of Pi, a film I saw at the cinema and loved. I know a lot of religious people came out of it and loved it because it "affirmed the importance of faith" and I know some atheists who hated it because they saw a new-agey, there-are-many-paths-to-god message. I think that both are wrong, although I guess also kind of right.
Firstly, I love this movie because of the quality of the film-making; as well as the visuals, which are utterly stunning, the pacing and storytelling are superb. I think this is a masterclass in film making. But I also love the story. Let me get this straight; I am a hard-line atheist, often anti-theist - I believe that the denial of critical thinking and reliance on moral authority that religion often teaches is a terrible burden on humanity. I think there is a clear correlation; that it is perfectly clear that parts of the world that are more in thrall to this sort of belief are less humans and civilised and those that have shaken it off more so. So, no bush-beating here.
And there is undoubtedly a religious message in this film, and the Yann Martell book upon which it is based (I had read the book before seeing the movie - yay for me - so it is possible that I see more layers than the more visual art form allows, although I think Ang Lee and scriptwriter David Magee do a superb job of conveying these). But I do think many people miss a subtlety which, frankly, isn't all that subtle. At the end, after the story of survival, all those weeks at see in a small lifeboat with a Bengal tiger, when asked if this is true, Pi gives another possibility. Perhaps it is all a metaphor. Perhaps the hyena was the vile ships cook and the zebra the Buddhist sailor and the orangutan his mother - and he was the tiger. The the cook allowed the sailor to die and used his flesh for bait to catch fish - maybe even ate some of it - and in an argument killed Pi's mother. And that Pi, the tiger, killed him. That the story the film has told us in those spectacular visuals is a metaphor that Pi has created to allow himself to survive, to live with the events. And when it is put to him bluntly, "But which is true?" Pi answers: "which story do you prefer?"
And this isn't a cop out. Pi's early life of absorbing the ideas of Hinduism and Christianity and Islam, following all of them equally, fits this perfectly. On one level it is saying that there is truth and there is a good story and that, all being equal, sometimes it is fine to go with the good story. But rather than be a pure expression of faith this leaves multiple interpretations. Pi, as the narrator who has laid this tale before us, is fully aware of the disconnect between that which is factual and those stories we tell ourselves to get by. Sometimes it may be better to accept the internally consistent tale that makes us feel better but is just a pretty story. This is by no means a clear-cut, comfortable ending from any viewpoint, and leaves me, at least, pondering how we construct the reality that we live through.
The fact that the film - and the book - can be interpreted in multiple ways, has multiple readings, for me simply reinforces how excellent it is.
Not going to hit the 1000
I've been recording my runs on a website called bugmiles.com (along with several others; my recently found fitness fanaticism melding with my geeky urge to measure and record). I'm approaching the arbitrary milestone (as it were) of 1000 miles recorded - I started on the website at the end of April, I think, but included runs going back to the Sheffield Half Marathon earlier that month.. I'd set myself the challenge of reaching the 1000 by years end, but the snow may have scuppered that; I don't min at all running in the cold, but the pavements are treacherous with packed, frozen snow and ice and I think running on that would be foolish. Of course, i might have to go out anyway. Perhaps I ought to join the gym again.
Saturday, 27 December 2014
It was going so well
Today wasn't what it was meant to be. The plan was to spend the day with Becky. I haven't seen nearly enough of her recently, partly due to my awkward shift pattern at work. Tough over the Christmas period. And her being married doesn't help.
Today we had planned to meet up quite early, spend the day together and then take my son out for a meal this evening. The heavy snow that hit last night put the kibosh on that, though; while the tram is running fine it doesn't go anywhere near her and the buses seem to have been cancelled, on top of which she is quite timid about getting stuck out. So I hiked up to hers and we went for a lunch at a local pub instead. Had a lovely afternoon, but toward the end she started getting a bit upset. She asked me to go home with her, for a drink with her and her husband and I said I would if she wanted. He knows and has asked her to invite me over before, but I've quailed at the potential awkwardness. Or I'm a coward, one or the other.
But at her door Becky said, No, it's okay, you get home, it's not a good idea. I said I'd come in if she wanted but maybe didn't press hard enough. So twenty minutes walk down the snowy road she sends me a text saying she feels she's been abandoned. I try to call but she doesn't keep her phone on her. I text saying I'm heading back, and I start back up the steep, snowy hill, trying to call again and again. No answer by the time I get to the end of her road. I don't want to barge in but how can I take her saying I've abandoned her a walk away? So I call the housephone and he answers. Can I speak to Becky. She seems shocked I've called. It's alright. Yes. Everything's OK. Hangs up.
So I walk home. Already tipsy from the wine we'd had at the pub I think I need to drink more. Four hours later and not heard a peep. I've texted, asked if everything is OK. I hate this.
Today we had planned to meet up quite early, spend the day together and then take my son out for a meal this evening. The heavy snow that hit last night put the kibosh on that, though; while the tram is running fine it doesn't go anywhere near her and the buses seem to have been cancelled, on top of which she is quite timid about getting stuck out. So I hiked up to hers and we went for a lunch at a local pub instead. Had a lovely afternoon, but toward the end she started getting a bit upset. She asked me to go home with her, for a drink with her and her husband and I said I would if she wanted. He knows and has asked her to invite me over before, but I've quailed at the potential awkwardness. Or I'm a coward, one or the other.
But at her door Becky said, No, it's okay, you get home, it's not a good idea. I said I'd come in if she wanted but maybe didn't press hard enough. So twenty minutes walk down the snowy road she sends me a text saying she feels she's been abandoned. I try to call but she doesn't keep her phone on her. I text saying I'm heading back, and I start back up the steep, snowy hill, trying to call again and again. No answer by the time I get to the end of her road. I don't want to barge in but how can I take her saying I've abandoned her a walk away? So I call the housephone and he answers. Can I speak to Becky. She seems shocked I've called. It's alright. Yes. Everything's OK. Hangs up.
So I walk home. Already tipsy from the wine we'd had at the pub I think I need to drink more. Four hours later and not heard a peep. I've texted, asked if everything is OK. I hate this.
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