Friday, 30 May 2008
OK, one. It may not have been the original thought that I had, but it's of slight interest. I managed to not remember cycling up the largest hill on the way to college. Now, doesn't sound impressive in itself. More worrying, than anything. But I loved the experience. Cycling on auto-pilot happens all too rarely for me, and for it to happen during the most strenuous part of my journey was a great pleasure. I remember going over the roundabout (in the proper manner, after the Highway Code) before the hill, cycling a little way up it, but then I got lost in a day dream about playing rugby, being the only man who could catch up with the opposing winger who had broken away and heading for the try line. Irrespective of the pain that may be caused by the speed with which he is pumping his legs back and forth, I launch myself forward and wrap my thin, fragile arms around his legs and he comes tumbling down, just short of the try line. By which time, I'm at the top of the hill, slightly out of breath, and feeling the ache in my legs, but with no remembrance of the event whatsoever.
In all honesty, I can't remember the other thing, if there ever was one. So stick that anecdote in your pipe, and smoke it. You'll just have to come back sometime.
Thursday, 29 May 2008
It must be noted, however, that this is the first time I have seen a rag and bone man in my twenty years, and I had no clue what one gives such a person. Doesn't bode well for business, really...
Edit: I'm currently sitting upstairs in my room, and today's episode explains a mystery I had never been able to fathom; what the bizarre noise was, coming from the road. So, in retrospect, I had been aware of the rag and bone man, but without knowing what it was. Which bodes slightly better for business, but isn't doing much to convince me of the affluence of my area.
Wednesday, 28 May 2008
We lost, one would argue, due to an unfortunate ignorance of the rules. Two teams had just played, prior to our match, and as we walked on, the goalkeeper and one of the players that had just played joined the team we were about to play. Now, stranger things have happened, but were it not for these two players, we would have stood a very good chance of winning the game. Our goalkeeper has decided to take it up with the management of Goals, to see if we can get the result turned in our favour, as the rules state that no player can play for two teams within the same division in one season.
Now, normally, I think we would have let it slide, but for some reason, Matt has decided to take up the case. Got me to thinking about rules, and the principle behind the rules. Should such rules be strictly adhered to? And should we, as Christians, be gracious enough to accept defeat even when the rules have been broken? Something within me strives against the being so particular about the rules, and just letting it slide, or perhaps I am just not principled enough.
Who knows? Considering no-one but me is reading this currently, I'm not sure they care, either.
Tuesday, 27 May 2008
I have just spent the larger part of three hours reading through Simon Wiesenthal's 'The Sunflower'. In it, he relates his time as a Jew in Poland, but the emphasis is placed upon the conundrum he once faced, when asked by a dying SS man for absolution for the horrific acts he had taken part in. I am deeply moved, and asking all sort of questions of myself. Wiesenthal himself ends his tale with the somewhat chilling question:
You, who have just read this sad and tragic episode in my life, can mentally change places with me and ask yourself the crucial question, “What would I have done?”
For this, I cannot come up with an immediate response. But I now feel I have some basis for which my final project shall be written. An essay, a brief foray into the doctrine of forgiveness, in response to this book. Then, I hope, shall I be able to answer this question better. I refuse to answer until I end these ten thousand words. Should you choose to read this while I'm writing my final project; I sincerely hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: If they don't like this, and my project idea goes to pot, I apologise. Y'know... just in case.