Borne Afar By Hercules!

We always think we're having a hard time of it, it's human nature, things could always be better, if only our luck would change. What we tend to forget, is just how desperate and often futile were the lives our ancestors lived. We may have very different backgrounds, you and I, but the likelihood is that no matter where your family originated, you can be rest assured that there was ample frustration, misery and misfortune along the years.

What has all this to do with Hercules then (as seen in the picture above)? Well, if you've followed my posts from a while back, you will know my affinity with genealogy (family history). Yes, I've done a bit of research, and even as an amateur, I now have around 11,000 individuals on my family tree. When I was at my researching peak (not working) around 2002-2003, I uploaded my tree to several major family history websites, and I've been receiving contacts from distant relatives ever since. It's a great way of expanding your family tree without doing any real work.

Wee, in a series of odd coincidences, just lately I've been receiving independent contact from several indiviuals in Australia, claiming to be related. They are indeed related. The basis of our relationship, lies in a dark passage of Scottish history, the Highland Clearances. Around about the 1850's, our mutual ancestors were living contentedly on the island of North Uist, when the landowner, the Lord of the Isles, decided to get rid of them and replace them with sheep. They were thrown out of their houses and their houses were torn down right in front of them, often at the onset of Winter.

They were then given paid passage as bonded labour, to the colonies; either Australia, New Zealand, America or Canada. In this instance, my ancestors went to America, but returned within a few years, but a large batch of their near relatives were dispatched to South Australia, onboard a ship called the "Hercules" (tenuous connection to picture established). There they married into a already well established Irish community, became Catholics themselves (of necessity) and proceeded to have enormous families in consequence. The odd thing was that I was contacted by 3 descendants of those emigrants virtually within a day of each other, purely by coincidence. Perhaps it's in vogue right now for Australians to trace their heritage. These things do seem to become popular in certain places, all of a sudden.

A Force Of Nature!

Apparently, record numbers will be leaving the UK this Winter break, seeking sunshine in distant locales. They say this every year, as though it has come as some surprise that people might prefer 2 weeks of sunshine, to darkness, rain, sleat, wind, family get-togethers and sherry. It's a no-brainer in my opinion. If you have the cash, do it! Personally I hate the long hours of darkness, I think I suffer from SAD (Sunshine... something or other disorder). It's very common in the North of Scotland. That's why people in Orkney and Shetland kill themselves more per head than anywhere else, during these long dark months.

It's not even as though we get snow anymore either. At least that cheered people up a little bit, and since it reflected back the light, it was reversing some of the effects of SAD. But we don't really get snow anymore, the weather patterns have long lost that predictability which they once had. I've heard the eldsters talking about 6 feet of snow, and I can't recall more than a few inches at best.

Perhaps you're reading this and as a resident of someplace either very hot or very cold, you might think it unacceptable for me to complain about weather which is nether here nor there, but believe me when I say that extremes are the way to go. We don't want overcast, windy and mild everyday. We want heatwaves and blizzards. That's what makes it bearable, natures fury unleashed. Well, a little bit of it anyhow, not the full whack. Couldn't have that!

Those Pesky Column-Makers!

It's extremely fortunate for you US citizens, to have a President with such great insight. Along with his Vice-President, they have realised that the last column in this picture is the most dangerous. They call this the Fifth Column, and the guys who make this particular column are called Fifth Columnists. Clearly such a column is created to undermine society, so in order to stop these Fifth Columnists, they have had to build 500 concentration camps around the country, each able to hold 5,000 individuals. There seem to be a lot of column makers going around. It only seems fair that the Vice-President award the contract to a company he has major shares in, because can anyone else really be trusted with a task of this importance?

How are they going to find these column makers then? It seems that they will take the guise of protestors against US foreign policy, otherwise known as terrorists. Certainly, speaking out against your own goverment is at best unpatriotic, but more than likely signifies your role as a collaborator. Good people will be able to express their patriotism by ensuring that their unpatriotic neighbours are consigned to these concentration camps, for the good of all.

It might be necessary to establish Martial Law at this point, because the President has taken steps to ensure that the Constitution will pose no barrier to his ruling the country forever, in the case of a national emergency. The Fifth Columnists will have aligned themselves with nationals from countries where there's oil, hoping to get themselves invaded so that the oil can be taken forcibly from them. If this happens then the President will control the World, unless of course he stops China or Russia from getting the supplies they require. If it gets to that point, don't worry, because your great leader will have the answer to avoiding Armageddon. Apparently he talks to God on a regular basis!

Talented Yet Anonymous!

I can't allow it, no I'm afraid I just can't stand by and do nothing while some anonymous person sits in his bedroom and plays guitar like this. It's a shocking indictment of society, if a guy like this isn't performing to sellout stadiums, rather than a handycam in his bedsit. You know what I'm talking about. He's not anorexic, so he can't sell records. Yes, we know the mentality of the recording industry, less about talent and all about appearances. Remember the Screaming Trees. They were a great band, some fabulous songs. They never ever signed to a major, even when Grunge was at it's zenith, because there were 2 "big" guys in the band.

So forgive me if I'm less than sympathetic to the current plight of the recording industry. They had their day, they made a lot of money, and they treated us like dirt. Well, now the boot's on the other foot, they've had the control taken away from them, their dictatorial rants are falling on deaf ears. Me, I'd be quite happy to place my cash straight into the hands of the artist. That doesn't please the record comapanies though. They want to be needed, they need to be wanted.

Well, they have no-one to blame but themselves. Taking your best customers to court, isn't the best way to future-proof your business. I know, because I've actually done a research project on this, and the hard facts state that people who "illegally" download music are by far the biggest consumers anyway. Conclusively therefore, illegal downloading was never the problem it was made out to be. The failure of the recording industry to accept change and their inability to drastically change their business model, these are the roots from which the crisis in the music industry has grown.

Dirty Old Men!

Unfortunately, if you're not a UK resident, it's unlikely that you will have heard of "Time Team", but I will still make this interesting, despite the fact that I'll be talking about a long running British show, which involves old men in shorts clawing in the dirt for fragments of pottery. You see, the Time Team arrive in some quiet village where there is good reason to believe that there was an ancient settlement. In fact they know that there was a settlement and where it was as well. But then they dig there. They have 3 days to find out as much as they can. So far so good.

Not this week though. The Time Team were in Normandy, following the exploits of the 1st Dorset Regiment during D-Day, World War II. My first problem with this is, it just wasn't that long ago was it? They even had one of the old soldiers with them to make it more plausible. The excavations would look at German positions taken by that regiment during D-Day.

Here's my second problem. Prior to D-Day, Hitler had the foresight to send some crack young soldiers to bolster the older gentlemen manning the defences, because clearly they would have cracked early in the day otherwise. British intelligence found out about this move, but kept it from the men for fear it would reduce morale. So, the British are heading up through a field to take a position on the ridge, when they were opened up on from the front and side by hidden German machine-gun emplacements. They were fairly decimated in this attack, which I assume might have sapped their morale slightly more than had they known what to expect.

Never mind. The Dorsets won the day and those men made a glorious sacrifice to capture what Time Team referred to as an unfinished anti-tank gun emplacement, that would have wrought heavy damage on the British forces, had it been completed.

The Magnum Special!

What could be more thrilling than a "Magnum" ride? My recollection is that it was Magnum P.I. and that he was as hairy as a man should ever be! Didn't he have a butler as well? I'm sure it would be far more exciting than an "A-Team" ride, well possibly not more exciting, but certainly more sophisticated. It's hard to think of "The Face" from the A-Team as anything more than a poor man's Magnum isn't it? Anyway, the A-Team never killed anyone, but Magnum could have if he'd had to. There was never any suggestion that he couldn't kill, he just didn't have to. Whereas, the A-Team had to, but didn't in order to prove that they hadn't killed the guys that they were supposedly framed for killing.

I think "Murdoch" probably killed them, and because he was such a nut-job didn't even know he'd done it. That might explain where the misunderstanding came about concerning who might have killed who. If Murdoch had received electro-shock therapy earlier in the day, all that nastiness might have been avoided, and the A-Team wouldn't have been reduced from an elite combat unit, to a mobile, mercenary, domestic problem-solving, bunch of losers.

Were they ever reconciled with top brass? I don't remember, and wonder very much if I'd actually cared in the first place. Anyway, a "Fall Guy" fairground ride, now that would be the ultimate. The Fall Guy was one of those shows which I tried hard not to like, but just couldn't help liking. Lee Majors was so personable, it was impossible not to be taken in by his wry grin. Anyway, I wonder where in the World this Magnum ride is located, I would guess Florida, maybe California. Answers in writing to; PO Box 115, Magnum Ride Location, Ulan Bator, Outer Mongolia.

Not With This Tide!

I had a bit of a nightmare this afternoon. It's the first time I've had any real bother with pupils, and I found some of them real heavy going. What made things so difficult was that I was doing some marking for the first time. I had to talk through their work with puils who had finished certain topics and it was during this time that the pupils started getting rowdy. I can see that a couple of individuals are going to have to be taken in hand.

I know I need to get tough with some of this lot. maybe I'll have to transfer someone out of the class as a warning message to the rest of them, although I'll take no pleasure in it. But, if they carry on like today, next time I see them, I'm afraid I'll have no option but to take some sort of action, because they think that getting away with it once is a signal that they can do it all the time. Probably because we're talking about older pupils here. The younger ones generally do what they're told. I dread to think what some of this lot get up to at the weekend.

I watched "My Boy Jack" last night with Daniel Radcliffe (Harry Potter) in it. True story, although I did find it pretty depressing. But, I've heard worse stories. This old guy I used to work for told me about how 15 young men set off from the village of Spey Bay to fight in the Great War. Only one of them ever returned. That must have been all of the young men from that village, as it's very small. Another story recanted how a woman had 3 sons off fighting. The sons were married to women from different villages, and on one particular day, the wives of all 3 men arrived at their mother-in-law's to inform her of their husbands deaths. That's right, she heard of her sons deaths, the three of them in one day. A bit like Saving Private Ryan, only true!

Lest We Ever Forget!

Remembrance Sunday again! I suppose the main thing to consider today is that somewhere (probably dry and dusty) young men are still giving their lives needlessly. I know that it's a day which is supposed to represent the loss of men and indeed women in all conflicts, but in my own mind, I just can't see past the First World War!

I have an attachment to it in many ways because my paternal Great Grandfather (who actually raised my father) was at Flanders, and took part in that last Great Cavalry Charge at Ypes, ordered by none other than Douglas Haig. My Gt Grandfather charged the German machine-guns on horseback, armed with (wait for it), a lance. Yes, you read right, he was armed with a lance. How he survived we'll never know, because he never told the tale. His reward for serving his country, well like most other sevicemen, I believe he found that there was no hero's welcome. He was never able to retain the position he had beforehand, and ended up doing labouring work.

This is my beef with the Earl Haig fund, the poppies they sell in the memory of fallen soldiers. The fact that Earl Haig was responsible for so many of their deaths. The phrase "Lions led by donkeys" was never more apt that when applied to him. Perhaps if he had gotten the opportunity to redeem himself like Monty did (you want to know what Monty did before he led the Desert Rats, then do some research yourself. It should be easy enough), then my image of him would be somewhat different, but I just can't abide the man's name being associated with the First World War in a charitable way, as though he never had all that blood on his hands.

The Agony and the Egg-city!

Don't ask me how, and definitely don't as me why, but somebody spent a great deal of time and effort constructing this entire miniature city from eggs. I could do a little research and give you some hard facts and figure about this, but sometimes things are just better left unexplained. For instance, I see from the pictures that the eggs are stacked on top of each other, which must have required a ridiculous amount of patience and skill. Also, what's going on with the flooring in this building? It looks awful.


You really would have to be walking on egg-shells at this exhibition wouldn't you? Not literally though, as you'd probably be thrown out, and the guards would smash your albumen-like teeth in. There would be yoke running down the street. They'd make you eat your own intestines like a battery-fed hen. Alright, maybe that's going a bit too far with the egg jokes, but I couldn't resist. I'm sure you understand!

The Wheel Broken At the Cistern!

Am I not good to you. I, being not a religious man, but being fairly well aware what constitutes a piece of good writing and what doesn't, bring to you this chapter from the Bible. That's not for me you might say, but wait. If the whole good book is a waste of paper, then this one chapter is definitely a keeper. I'll let you read it first, and even though you might know of it already, I'm doubtful whether you truly understand what it's about. That's because it's allegory, and it was crafted by a master wordsmith!

Ecclesiastes
OR, THE PREACHER - 12

1 Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them;

2 while the sun, or the light, or the moon, or the stars, be not darkened, nor the clouds return after the rain:

3 in the day when the keepers of the house shall tremble, and the strong men shall bow themselves, and the grinders cease because they are few, and those that look out of the windows be darkened,

4 and the doors shall be shut in the streets, when the sound of the grinding is low, and he shall rise up at the voice of the bird, and all the daughters of music shall be brought low;

5 also when they shall be afraid of that which is high, and fears shall be in the way, and the almond tree shall flourish, and the grasshopper shall be a burden, and desire shall fail: because man goeth to his long home, and the mourners go about the streets:

6 or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern.

7 Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it.

Now I'm trying to recall this from memory, as I can't locate a clearer explanation on the Net than the one that was give to me many years ago. The whole passage is an allegory on the failings of old age. Let me just point out these thoughts to you, then read it through again, you'll see what I mean:

• For keepers of the house, think "arms"
• The strong men shall bow themselves, think of "legs and back"
• For grinders, think "teeth"
• For windows, substitute "eyes"
• Doors shut in the streets - "hearing"
• Sound of the grinding is low - "the voice"
• For golden bowl, "the skull"
• The pitcher, "blood"
• The wheel at the cistern, "the heart"
• Man's long home is "the grave"

I might have erred on some of these points, but the allegory of death is so powerful, you can see why the Freemasons place such value on this passage. When you think how long ago this must have been written, whoever wrote it and whatever their message, it is indeed a wonderfully written allegorical piece.