Saturday, 7 January 2012

Sorry Frank Skinner - It's Catholicism and Cardiff City (Not West Brom)

Catholic Good. West Brom Bad?
Many moons ago I used to listen to the podcast of Terry Wogan who, with his whimsical way and Irish brogue, and twisted humour (often supplied by his listeners) would have me giggling. Although Wogan had rejected the Faith of his youth, he would often talk of Ireland and so on, and there was something comforting in that. Oh he'd be on the radio in the morning's too, but as any working parent with school-age children will attest, mornings are akin to organised chaos, when a number of whirlwinds pass through the house leaving clothes, food, schoolbooks and much else scattered anywhere and everywhere.

So it was via his podcast I would catch up with his wittering, jokes, observations and so on. There was an added bonus too: you didn't have to hear some of the awful music on the radio playlists. When he stepped down and his breakfast slot was taken over by Chris Evans, it was like losing an old friend. There is something about the 'in your face' shouty-cheeriness of Evans that just doesn't sit well with me. Being cheery every day just seems false.

Frank Skinner the famous comedian has a bi-weekly podcast, which I was overjoyed to discover earlier this year. It has been more than a replacement for Wogan's in that Skinner is just as laid-back, whimsical and jocular but he's a practising Catholic too, and isn't afraid to mention it when religion pops up in subjects. If you enjoy dry wit and observational humour, I can highly recommend his podcast.

The other thing he regularly mentions on his radio show (which the podcast is the highlights of) is his support for West Bromwich Albion, the Black Country football team. Another famous supporter of theirs is the part-Croatian Catholic ITV sports pundit and presenter Adrian Chiles, though I don't know if he's a practising or cultural Catholic. Both he and Skinner were mentioned in a Top 100 list of UK lay Catholics, As is the Norwich City boss and celebrity TV chef Delia Smith, who has mentioned that the Latin Mass means so much to her (a close friend of hers is Sister Wendy the TV art critic).


Whitby Cathedral Synod 596 - Easter Victory
Anyhow, today West Brom are playing host to the world famous Cardiff City FC in the third round of the FA Cup, and they are supported by yours truly and the author of the Ecumenical Diablog, not to forget my uncle Billy, Old Pa Hurley and many other Hurleys.

I would approach the Church to settle this matter but Cardiff is an Archdiocese and Birmingham is an Archdiocese too. It could be as problematic as the argument over the timing of Easter at the Synod of Whitby, which resulted in the final victory of Cardiff City, erm sorry - I mean Roman Catholicism

So, I'm sorry Frank Skinner, but I must give the whole of my sporting loyalty to Cardiff City. But if West Brom do win I won't hold it against you... too much!

May the best team win. So that's Cardiff then (famous last words, I can view humble pie approaching...)


Update 1: Reading my tweets it's almost half-time and it's 2-1 to West Brom.
Update 2: Few minutes into 2nd half: It's all square at 2:2. St David catches up with St George!
Update 3: It's full time. Oh boo hoo.  4:2. We'll have to to do a post-Iraq Tony Blair and "draw a line under it." I need a cup of Glengettie! ;-)

Friday, 6 January 2012

Can the Perfect Cuppa Bring More People to Our Lady of Walsingham?

Before I go any further I should say that it is well known I like a pint of Brains and the occasional wee tot of whisky. Just in case anyone thinks I am a teetotal joyless Presbyterian or "drink from the wrong tap" if you get my meaning.

Now that my credentials are established, I can safely say I like a nice cup of tea. Not as much as some Northerners (Lancastrians and Yorkshiremen) I know, who could drink tea as an Olympic sport. But you know what it's like: you get in from a windswept walk with an excitable Patch the dog, a hectic shopping expedition (telling Mrs H "we/you/I don't need that/those/them" or "what do we/you/I need those/them/that for?"- so she doesn't take me too often), from mind numbing queueing in banks etc. etc. and the first thing Mrs H says is "I'll put the kettle on" or "let's have a nice cup of tea."

It's all so very civilised. I think only Shane McGowan would get in from the shops or a walk on the beach (if he does anything so normal) and pour a whisky. For the rest of us a cuppa will suffice.

We all of us have to discover certain things in life. Of course there are the absolutes that so many search for, and sadly because of the wet-flannel nature of too many Bishops and the kum-by-ya-ification of the Church since the 60s too many people flirt with New Age beliefs, Buddhism, the Kabbalah, Islam and a veritable Heinz 57 varieties of spirituality, when we all know that Jesus Christ established His 'One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church' on the rock of St Peter as the first Pope.

But once you have that sorted (and you better had!) we can all worry about other things. Brains for beer. Clarks for pies. M&S for bundies. Cardiff for football. Oh you know how it goes.

So as life goes along we gather to ourselves our favourite things. Most of us need comforts in this "vale of tears" (which is why family is so important) and there can be little more that provides so much of a prop as a "nice cup of tea" as any writer of modern drama would tell you.

And it is in this sphere of such trivial importance, that I can announce the best cup of tea to be had. We (Mrs H and I) have tried allsorts (no, not liquorice tea!) in our quest for the perfect cuppa. From top notch "English Breakfast Teas" and even the absurd flavours of Earl Grey and green teas, to the cheap end of the value blue stripey 100 for 40p strained dishwater types.

After much deliberation we have got our bestest tea for the bestest cuppa in Hurley Towers: Glengettie!

I dunno why it works so well, why it's better than Typhoo, Yorkshire Tea, Twinings or even Asda Own Brand. But it does, and it is.

So my advice, if you live in a civilised area that doesn't have awful hard water (like London), try Glengettie Tea. I'm having one right now in my Hilaire Belloc mug and it is a very ennobling experience.

Belloc said: “Is there no Latin word for Tea? Upon my soul, if I had known that I would have let the vulgar stuff alone” but then he was always a Francophone. Perhaps it is in reaching out for tea (albeit a Welsh one, and I do use the term advisedly) that we reach out to our Anglican neighbours, especially as many of them are converting to Catholicism via the Ordinariate of Our Lady of Walsingham.

If they learn that Catholics drink more tea than whisky, then they may be happy to convert. When they find out that we may have dogma and infallibility, but we also have tea and biscuits, then they might understand that Catholicism isn't some "foreign thing," but as Welsh (oh OK, and English) as a nice cup of tea.

Oscar Wilde once said that the Catholic Church is for saints and sinners, for everyone else there is Anglicanism. It is widely rumoured that this world renowned sinner converted before his death, and we all know there is "more joy in heaven" over one conversion... but I'm sure there are plenty of Anglican saints and sinners who like a nice cup of tea, and now they know Glengettie is the cuppa to have, now that dilemma is sorted, they can resolve to convert and come back to the barque of Peter where they truly belong.

Not some much as "more tea vicar?" as "another Glengettie Father?"

Monday, 2 January 2012

Orcadian Viking Families and the New Paganism

As you may know my Tulloch in-laws descend from Orkney on the paternal side. In a previous post I showed how they could also trace their family tree back to Scottish royalty.

In the year 2000 I was lucky enough to be able to visit Orkney, with my father-in-law's sister and her husband (the fabled 'Uncle Maynard') and we took the opportunity to visit as many of the Neolithic structures of the Island(s) as we could, plus a few more recent ones.

I do go to Orkney once more with Mrs H and the wee bairns and we were lucky enough to see some of the main sites again

Pictured here you'll see a pic of myself and Auntie Kay near the Tomb of the Eagles, and yes that's the Atlantic Ocean behind us! It was a bit of a bubbling cauldron on the day, which was just "windy." It must look truly awe inspiring on a really stormy day.

So after visiting Maes Howe, the Ring of Brodgar and similar sites, I was thrilled to see 'A History of Ancient Britain Special: Orkney's Stone Age Temple' programme on BBC i player. UK residents can watch it here but I dare say it will be on you tube sooner or later.

One of the abiding memories for me was on visiting Maes Howe to see the graffiti left by tourists in the late Dark - early Middle Ages. If memory serves me right it was all Norse/Viking in origin and much of it was of the kind "Harald gets all the girls" or "Sven is the best sailor in all the oceans" and similar. All very 1970s if you ask me... but I do recall our guide showing us some graffiti which he said was left by the Vikings who had returned from the Crusades.

Right there and then you are forced to recondition your view of history. Of course, it is known that the Norsemen went onto to found the Kiev Rus (the beginnings of modern Russia really) and provided the elite Varangian Guards to the Christian Emperors of Constantinople, not to mention the Norsemen of Normandy who went on to found the Franco-Norman kingdom of England, which led to the Angevin Empire (wherein the Kings of England claimed as much of France as of modern-day Britain, which would lead to countless wars) and the Kingdom of Sicily which went onto control nearly half of modern-day Italy, but these were their more northerly brethren, better known for the raping and pillaging of their forebears; of razing monasteries to the ground, rather than raising monasteries from the ground.

Yet in the northerly wilderness of windswept Orkney, there is proof that the Norsemen, the men of the north, went to the Holy Land, fought and died for Christ and His Church. In our living room we still have a framed print of St Magnus' Cathedral, sadly temporarily protestant, of a painting by a local Orcadian. It's a reminder of the Catholic Faith of the Norsemen of Orkney.

It reminds me of another link showing the Christian conversion of the former wild-men of the North. The Coppergate Helmet. To quote from the York Archeology site:

When the work was completed the true splendour of the helmet was revealed. The decorated brass strips, which run across from nape to nose and from ear to ear, bore an inscription which can be translated from the Latin as:
In the name of our Lord Jesus the Holy Spirit God the Father and with all we pray. Amen. OSHERE XPI.
Yes - the Vikings of York, the erstwhile receivers of Danegeld to protect the Christian Anglo-Saxons from the onslaught of the heathen Vikings, now had living with them, the Saxon Oshere, with a Latin inscription-prayer to the Holy Trinity, to protect the wearer. To find such a treasure, of Latin Catholic culture in the home of the Danes in England, is astounding.

We begin to see the process, as with the 'Vikings' of Kiev, how the Vikings of Northern England and Northern Scotland were converted to Christianity, the Faith they had fought against for so long.

But back to Orkney and the Neolithic forebears of the Norsemen who would replace them. Skara Brae was, at the time of my visits, the most intricate and detailed Neolithic settlement. It looks like the new discovery at the Ness of Brodgar is even more exciting, but it seems to be of a ceremonial usage rather than a domestic one.

Whilst the latter may outdo the former for the historians and archaeologists because of the very mystery and insights it gives into the unknown rituals of life circa 5,000 years ago, to me it is the very domesticity of Skara Brae that makes it breath-taking.

We do not know the ceremonies that took place at the Ness of Brodgar. Was there a form of priesthood? Was there a sacrifice? Were there prayers for the dead? Was it closed-off to the outside world like a strict monastic order? Or was it very much a community affair, like a parish church? Or perhaps a mix of the two like a Medieval Cathedral?

But at Skara Brae one sees the homes, the hearths, the settings for the beds, the cupboards for the trinkets, the doorways, the communal passageways. You can imagine the families coming and going, swapping news, visiting each other. You can imagine the hunters/farmers coming in of an evening, or the fishermen bringing in their catch for supper.

The beliefs of our ancient ancestors have fallen by the wayside. Much of what druids, witches etc. give to us today is latterly invented, usually by weirdoes with a taste for Satanism, an unhealthy preoccupation with sexual activity of all kinds, and a sense that dramatisation will fool the weak-willed. e.g. witchcraft as practised today was invented by Gerald Gardner who became an acolyte of the satanist Aleister "the Beast" Crowley. What they tell is us ancient is in fact an absolutely modern concoction.

All these people were really interested in was drugs and sex, so in that sense I guess one might call them ahead of their time in that they lived the 1960s back in the 1930s and 1940s. In regards to our own society and what Benedict XVI warned against when he visited Britain: they are the forces advocating 'moral relativism,' the "do what thou wilt" of Crowley has become the "freedom of choice" that leads so many to drug addiction or the abortion clinic.

Whilst these things may be of interest to academics, and find a home in history books, the paganism of the past fell away for a reason. It was false. It was man-made, yet it was at least born in a pre-Christian age. And it has been replaced by latter-day pagans by something that is false and man-made, created in enmity of Christianity. In time, it too will fade and die, like heresies through the ages, paganism too has been re-invented and come back. As Hilaire Belloc wrote in his masterpiece Survivals and New Arrivals, much of what opposes Christianity is re-hashed through the ages, new themes on old evils re-invented, twisted this way and that to try and undermine Christendom.

While the supposed, imagined or factual rites of the Ness of Brodgar have fallen away, the very domesticity of Skara Brae has flourished through the years, despite the onslaught of the land enclosures and industrialisation, despite the modern onslaught of single-parents and same-sex "partners." Domesticity is the hallmark of a civilisation, because without it, no society can flourish and without it no society can survive, ancient, historic, old or modern.

Even the heathen Vikings when they were pillaging, raping and rampaging their way across Northern Europe and down into the belly of what would become Ukraine, kept a domestic lifestyle in their homelands and in their new settlements (whether Orkney, Kiev, Dublin, Swansea or Brecon).

That is what helped the Norsemen to survive and thrive. The paganism came and went, but the Norsemen thrived, building and helping to build great Christian civilisations in France, England, Russia, Byzantium, Sicily and elsewhere.

Their erstwhile paganism was a culture, a folk-memory, tales of tribes that could be easily discarded, remembered in heroic poems, as we remember the likes of King Arthur. But their home-life, their families, their hearths: without these they could not have survived and without these Christianity may not have found a ready receptacle; the great Christian Norse warriors that would go on the Crusades, that would defend the Emperor in Constantinople, and that would raise wonderful Cathedrals and monasteries throughout England, France and Italy may have been lost to history.

I am sure that the home and the family will survive into the future, but I am equally as sure that it has never faced such an insidious attack as it faces today. How many of London's rioters, I wonder, came from single-parent homes or homes where the 'father figure' is the latest in a long series of "partners?"

In a recent poll, (which I now typically can't find) it was revealed that a tiny minority of UK churches wanted "the right" to perform same-sex marriages. Yet the UK government seems intent on pushing this through. Is this a blip in the history of the family? Or is this yet another step on the path of good intentions that leads you-know-where? Or a headlong rush by the New Pagans intent on reaching certain ends as soon as possible?

Never before in the history of the world, it seems to me, have we had rulers who seem so intent on making it preferential for couples not to marry (tax breaks, housing benefit etc.), for young single mums to expand numerically (free housing, extra income) and now we have the big push to equate sterile homosexual relationships with families that bring about future generations (future tax-payers if you want to look at it materially).

On Orkney all those years ago, the farmers and fishermen, went home to their communities and their families, for generation after generation over many hundreds of years. If we destroy the family over a few decades then we face the danger of doing terrible damage for years to come. The "new family" will be a mockery of the original, a fake that in fact destroys the family and reduces society to a chaos that will make the Neolithic age look positively cultured and settled.

As for the New Paganism, that has ushered in the "right" to murder the unborn, and wishes to bring about the "right" to kill the old, and the "right" for homosexuals to be "married," Belloc put it best in his 1931 essay, the New Paganism:
   The New Paganism, should it ever become universal, or over whatever districts or societies it may become general, will never be what the Old Paganism was. It will be other, because it will be a corruption. The Old Paganism was profoundly traditional; indeed, it had no roots except in tradition. Deep reverence for its own past and for the wisdom of its ancestry and pride therein were the very soul of the Old Paganism; that is why it formed so solid a foundation on which to build the Catholic Church, though that is also why it offered so long and determined a resistance to the growth of the Catholic Church. But the New Paganism has for its very essence contempt for tradition and contempt of ancestry. It respects perhaps nothing, but least of all does it respect the spirit of "Our fathers have told us."
   The Old Paganism worshipped human things, but the noblest human things, particularly reason and the sense of beauty. In these it rose to heights greater than have since been reached, perhaps, and certainly to heights as great as were ever reached by mere reason or in the mere production of beauty during the Christian centuries.
   But the New Paganism despises reason, and boasts that it is attacking beauty. It presents with pride music that is discordant, building that is repellent, pictures that are a mere chaos...
...Men do not live long without gods; but when the gods of the New Paganism come they will not be merely insufficient, as were the gods of Greece, nor merely false; they will be evil.  One might put it in a sentence, and say that the New Paganism, foolishly expecting satisfaction, will fall, before it knows where it is, into Satanism.

Saturday, 31 December 2011

An Ode to Robert Parsons OBE

Uncle Rob
AN ODE TO ROBERT PARSONS OBE


There was on old(ish) man from Cyncoed
Who was kind to all he employed
With a fatherly smile
He'd walk the extra mile
Whilst remaining incredibly coy

At Christmas he'd put on a big do
The whole family gathered there too
He'd go after a BAFTA
Have us crying with laughter
As he dressed up in drag - woo hoo.

His New Year honour "winnings"
Came from most humble beginnings
On Cardiff's mean streets
Shoes with holes on his feet
He dreamt of nights on fine linen.

Twas back in the year '88
He decided it must be his fate
To help families in need
He must now succeed
(Tomorrow was always too late).

And so now he has his earthly reward
(It was passed and cleared by the board)
He's been helping so long
He deserves this fine gong
What next? Will they make him a Lord?

Uncle Rob Gets an Oboe? Knighthood for Old Pa Hurley?

It was a busy day today. After trying for the umpteenth time to unlock a phone from O2, who have been as helpful as a boil on the posterior, I decided to clear out the shed, which hadn't been done for months (after what seems like an eternity of work leading up to Christmas left me feeling like a piece of Alex Ferguson's match-time chewing gum). So with cardboard boxes flying hither and thither (and back to hither) pots of paint, bikes, scooters and all manner of chattels being cast to the Easterly biting wind, I didn't hear the dingaling as a text message was received deep in the deepest pocket (and I have deep pockets as my children will attest).

So when I read that my uncle Rob had got an oboe, I thought that was 'nice' but, with all due respect, it's a late(ish) age to be doing such things. After all, we're waiting for the results of our littlest one's level two violin exam. But you do hear of these "silver surfers" who start a new venture, such as learning Russian, taking up the drums, or bungee jumping.*

So it came as something of a relief (no offence to oboists one and all) to find out that uncle Rob hadn't taken up the oboe but had rather been given the O.B.E. in the Queen's New Years Honours List, for his services to charity.

So with one gong safely in the bag for the family, it's high time we started lobbying SA Brains Ltd for some worthy reward for Old Pa Hurley, after all over all the many years "Hollow Legs Hurley" has been quaffing ales at the Park Cons, he must have kept many hundreds of SA Brains employees in, erm, employ; not to mention keeping their extended families in the opulence they are accustomed to.

As one of the four 'sins that cry to heaven for vengeance' is to defraud a working man of a just wage, by handing over a bright shiny penny for every quart of ale and thus ensuring, indirectly, that the workers of SA Brains are given their full wage due, might we not suggest to the powers that be that Old Pa Hurley has carried out great works of charity, on an ongoing basis, for the material benefit of a good number of workingmen? Not to mention the many and great developments in the brewing process that must have occurred during his ever-so lengthy life, which I would humbly suggest have been spurred on in the full knowledge that their fruits would be tasted by the old venerable man of Roath.

So three cheers for 'Uncle Rob' Parsons** for his OBE (and a polite applause if he has taken up the oboe too) but let us begin campaigning here and now for the due recognition of Old Pa Hurley.

Arise Sir Old Pa Hurley! Knighted for his services to employment, research and development, charity and dog-walking.


===

*Old Ma Hurley may be taking notes...

**Robert Parsons was also the name of one of the first Jesuits to return to Elizabethan England on a Papal mission to bring the Sacraments to a suffering people, accompanying St Edmund Campion in 1580 who would be captured and horrifically martyred. Parsons went on to found seminaries across Spain and the first post-Reformation English Boys' Catholic School (in France). For a great book, which reads like a boys' own adventure, on the Jesuit missions read God's Secret Agents by Alice Hogge (I bought it cheaper on Amazon - Old Pa "10p doughnuts" Hurley would approve).

Monday, 26 December 2011

St Stephen's Day: Family China and the Tale of St Margaret Clitherow

Yes it's St Stephen's Day (when St Wenceslas "looked out" on his favourite pizza - deep pan, crisp and even) aka Boxing Day. So it's been cold cuts, left-over Christmas dinner, and bits n bobs.

Another opportunity to get out our favourite Christmas china - our 12 Days of Christmas set of plates, each with the presents given on each of the 12 days of Christmas (from Christmas Day to Epiphany).

Calm down Old Pa Hurley, they did not cost a king's ransom - these were bought for £3 at a car boot, albeit in foreign parts (England).

Now you may not know this, but the poem/song 'The 12 Days of Christmas' is Catholic in origin. It came about after Elizabeth I reneged on her Coronation oath to uphold the Catholic faith and walked out of the Coronation Mass as the Blessed Sacrament was elevated by the priest.

She made England, Wales and Ireland protestant by forcing through a law whilst some of the Bishops were waylaid by her hirelings, so not only did she break her oath, but she forced through a law by guile that would never have gotten through otherwise.

After this it became illegal to celebrate Mass, attend a Mass or to house a priest. People had to to go to her protestant services or face fines and property confiscations. "Good Queen Bess" my backside!

And so, from circa 1558 to circa 1829, Catholics were forced underground, those who had the courage, stamina and fortitude to continue with the Faith of their Fathers.

If you want to know how cruelly and horrifyingly normal Catholics were treated, look up the treatment of St Margaret Clitherow, whose only crime was in having Masses celebrated in her home. She was crushed to death, whilst probably pregnant, at the age of 33.

The 12 Days of Christmas came about as a means of teaching each other, and especially the young, all about their Catholic faith, but in a hidden way - in the days when priests had to hide and the faithful lived in fear of their livelihood, property and lives.

As Catholic.net says:

“The Twelve Days of Christmas” celebrates the official Christmas season which starts liturgically on Christmas Day and ends twelve days later on the Feast of the Epiphany. “My true love” refers to God, “me” is the individual Catholic. The “twelve lords a leaping” are the twelve basic beliefs of the Catholic Church as outlined in the Apostles Creed. The “eleven pipers piping” are the eleven Apostles who remained faithful after the treachery of Judas. The “ten ladies dancing” are the Ten Commandments. The “nine drummers drumming” are the nine choirs of angels which in those days of class distinction were thought important. The “eight maids a milking” are the Eight Beatitudes. The “seven swans a swimming” are the Seven Sacraments. The “six geese a laying” are the Six Commandments of the Church or the six days of creation. The “five golden rings” are the first five books of the Old Testament called the Torah which are generally considered the most sacred and important of all the Old Testament. The “four calling birds” are the Four Gospels. The “three French hens” are the Three Persons in God or the three gifts of the Wise Men. The “two turtle doves” represent the two natures in Jesus: human and divine or the two Testaments, Old and New. The “partridge” is the piece de resistance, Jesus himself, and the “pear tree” is the Cross.

Sunday, 25 December 2011

Merry Christmas from The Hurley Family

A very Merry Hurley Christmas to you all!

This was the teapot my dear wife received from Santa. All very exciting.

Merry Hurley Christmas 2011. You bet!

Wednesday, 21 December 2011

Countdown to Christmas at Hurley Towers

Oh joy... that mad period before Christmas when work is so overwhelming is coming to an end.

Now we can start to get ready for Christmas festivities. Hoorah!

Get the logs in for the fire. Get to Confession in time for Christmas day. And stock up on the pork pies and itchy-gum cheese. Drop off the last few Christmas cards to friends and neighbours.

I may even have a sneaky foaming ale or two (otherwise Old Pa Hurley may think I've gone  a bit 'ginger').

Only a few little doors left on our Advent calendar. It's all very exciting.

Tuesday, 20 December 2011

Bad Korea Move for Hoo Flung Dung?

So Kim Jong Ill has died. You'd have thunk his name was a giveaway.

Now the weirdo North Koreans have appointed Kim Jong Young. They've got a better chance with him, judging by his name.

Apparently Kim Jong Young's older brother Kim Jong Nutter was by-passed because it was just too much of a giveaway. And the less said about Kim Jong Streaker the better!

It all reminds me of a rather rude poem my elder brother taught me when he was a rather rude teenager, which included the character Hoo Flung Dung.

Oh the carefree casual anti-Oriental racism of one's youth! Where have the good times gone?

HVP Huzzey: Big Hitter for Wales

HVP Huzzey 2nd left middle row, Welsh rugby team.
I have written much about my famous great-grandfather Henry Vivian Pugh Huzzey (aka HVP or Vivian).

There's a cracking article in today's South Wales Echo (page 33 I'm reliably informed) outlining this little known sporting great.

With his tally of tries for Cardiff and Wales, there can be little doubt that HVP Huzzey would have been one of Welsh rugby's most famous names had he played in Welsh rugby today.

How fantastic that as of today, more people know of my great-grandfather, his sporting prowess, and his achievements for both Cardiff and Wales, rugby and baseball.

Link:,
HVP Huzzey in today's South Wales Echo

When is a Bubble a Booblé and a Soufflé a Sufle?

Mrs Bucket - or Old Ma Hurlé?
If crooner Michael Buble is pronounced as Booblé, does that mean:
  1. I can try and bake a sufle for Christmas dinner dessert?
  2. I have been hanging baublés on the Christmas tree?
  3. We will have a glass of booble on Christmas morning?
Or is Michael Buble just pulling a Hyacinth Bucket from the comedy Keeping Up Appearances who insisted on being called Mrs Bouquet?

Whatever next?

Gareth Hoorlé reporting.

Sunday, 18 December 2011

One in the Eye of Richard Dawkins and his ilk

Today at Mass one of the readings was of the Annunciation, that moment which gives us the first part of the Hail Mary (Hail full of Grace, the Lord is with thee).

Of course Mary's submission to the Will of God, meant that the Incarnation of Christ could happen. The whole of creation was dependent on the submission of Mary, the second Eve.

What a beautiful moment - perhaps the most important moment in the history of the world, for it enabled Christ the Saviour to be born - the event we are all about to celebrate.

Back in the Summer I picked up an old Missal at a car boot in Swansea for £1 or so (you can imagine I skipped home). It contains some beautiful colour illustrations, including this one, which shows The Annunciation.

It's easy at Christmas time to get lost in the consumerism and some of the schmaltz, so let's remember this Christmas that we are indeed celebrating the Incarnation, made possible by Mary the Mother of God.

And if any atheists try to tell you otherwise you have my permission to tweak their nose, kick them up the Khyber and tell them we will not live in a new Soviet regime!

Merry Christmas!

Thursday, 8 December 2011

Congratulations to the Dingles

Good and bad news today.
Me dancing - badly

Good news is, little Alexander Joseph Dingle was born this afternoon to Paul and Janine.

They dismissed the idea of calling him Dan Glyn Dingle. Hmmm.

Bad news is that I'm now a Great Uncle! Well, I kind of suspected I was a great Uncle, but after turning 40 I am tempted to say this is another foot in the grave, but then I'd have two feet in the grave - and that is just creepy.

Still, commiserations where they are due, because if I'm feeling old, how are Old Ma and Old Pa Hurley feeling? Great Grandma and Great Grandpa! Zoiks!

And so the tail end of 2011 sees another member of the extended Hurley family peek his way into this world. I wonder what he'll be writing about circa 40 years from now? Blimey! If the good Lord sees fit to keep me on this earth that long I'll be a proper greybeard by then.

And so the generations roll on...

Friday, 2 December 2011

Are Old Pa Hurley and GK Chesterton Distant Cousins?

I always wondered was I was drawn to the great English Catholic writer GK Chesterton.

Was it his innate humour? His dry wit? His piercing observations? His loathing of pomposity? His love of the poor and the underdog? His defence of Catholic tradition? His absolutism against relativism? His love of country but loathing of jingoism? His love of politics but scepticism of politicians? His embrace of history but his emphasis on creating a better tomorrow?

Apparently not!

GKC? or Old Pa Hurley?
This you tube video of a GK Chesterton talk, pricking the bubble of Protestantism's central tenet of 'sola scriptura' (scripture alone) in his wonderful style has an artist's computerised impression of a (admittedly slimmer than usual) GKC.

Take a look at the image (reproduced at right) of GKC. Remind you of anyone?

Someone who totters down Albany Road of a Saturday night after righting the wrongs of the world in the bar? Someone who likes to get a 10p clearance bag of doughnuts to nibble as he meanders his way homeward, just as (GKC's chum) Hilaire Belloc wrote of the winding lanes of Sussex in his celebration of life, England, social history and so on, in his famous book The Four Men?

The GKC cartoon character even wears the kind of suit adorned by Old Pa Hurley that led to him getting free beer in one Cardiff hostelry when they assumed he was a plain-clothes policeman!

Little short of a Damascene Conversion (if one can mention such non-ecumenical things in the modern world without straying into hate crimes), I am now given to thinking (I know, it's worrying) that I must have first picked up a GKC tome because of some familial tie, some inner yearning to learn from the wisdom of my old dad.

I thank God (ditto re. ecumenism) that I don't believe in the many-armed elephantine deities and turbanated wotnots of the Hindoos, for with GKC passing away in 1936 and Old Pa Hurley being brought into this unsuspecting world in 1937, one might wonder at the possibility of reincarnation.

Now if I find out that GKC had a fondness for supping Brains SA*, then I think I'll have to phone up some clever genealogist in the morning.

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* I am still awaiting my letter confirming sponsorship by Brains Brewery. One of their vans travels down our street with worrying regularity as if to coax more pennies from my padlocked coin purse (all very medieval).

Thursday, 1 December 2011

Are You Opening Those Advent Calendars?

I hope you all opened the first door in your NATIVITY Advent Calendars today.

And not a Coca-Mc-Cadbury 'Happy Holidays' Snowman choc-fest one either.

Advent has begun. Let us prepare for CHRISTMAS.

Here's a wonderful icon, reminding us that Mary is the Mother of God, and the sacred nature of life in the womb.