The Chase

After the monumental success of Lawrence of Arabia, Sam Spiegel could never quite recapture his old magic, releasing films that were both box-office thuds and critical bombs. While The Night of the Generals and Nicholas and Alexandra are interesting if flawed films, The Chase (1966) is a complete misfire, an obnoxious, one-note social message film playing with a stacked-deck and an inflated sense of self-importance. It really has no message beyond saying that America is a violent, nasty place, an idea conveyed in many films better and more subtle than this.

A small Texas town turns upside down when Bubber Reeves (Robert Redford), a good-hearted local convict, escapes from jail. Various townspeople go ape, from oil tycoon Val Rodgers (E.G. Marshall) and a trio of bigoted thugs (Richard Bradford, Clifton James, Steve Ihnat) to a meek banker (Robert Duvall) who shares a past with Bubber, to Reeves' ex-wife (Jane Fonda) and former pal (James Fox), also Rodgers' son. In the middle of all this is Sheriff Calder (Marlon Brando), disliked by pretty much everyone; he tries to keep his head and prevent bloodshed as Bubber arrives in town, but finds his position increasingly difficult.

With Arthur Penn (Bonnie and Clyde) directing, a script by Lillian Hellman (The Children's Hour), and a cast of hot '60s talent and fine character actors, The Chase has all the trappings of a great film. But all this talent essentially goes to waste in a dull, overlong film that makes its point early and then beats us over the head with it. Early on we get that our characters are unlikeable, sleazy racist slugs waiting for an excuse to kill someone, but to pad out the run-time, we get interminable party and conversation scenes. The plot proper doesn't start for about an hour, and for at least half the film, we've nothing to do but hang out with redneck scum. Once the story gets underway, as the film seems satisfied with condescending hatred rather than a thoughtful examination of violence and bigotry.

The way Hellman and Penn sell the message and characters is beyond obnoxious. The film takes place in a typical Small Town as Envisioned By Guilty Hollywood Liberals, populated by completely one-dimensional vermin. The trio of thugs goes around leering at teenaged girls, brandishing guns, beating up the Sheriff, and just we know they're really bad, harass a pair of random black men. Few of the others are better, from the slutty, drunken women to the eccentric old loonies to the henpecked bank VP. Calder is passive and uninteresting, lacking motivation or depth, and is never a satisfactory protagonist. Bubber, in keeping with Penn's The Left-Handed Gun and Bonnie and Clyde, is a good-hearted, misunderstood crook, who has improbably spent his whole life taking the fall for others.

Perhaps the biggest problem is that we never understand why Bubber is so feared. The movie leans towards individual hatred mixing with mass hysteria, but this doesn't jive. Bubber is so virtuous and non-threatening that the film's conceit is ludicrous, and marks the characters as pawns of the ridiculous plot. The rigged drama is completely unsatisfactory, sacrificing logic or drama for the sake of demonizing its characters. The climactic lynch mob scene is well-staged but ridiculous, and the crude restaging of Jack Ruby's slaying of Lee Harvey Oswald at the climax adds insult to injury. The ultimate message of The Chase is that people are no damned good, an unhelpful, intellectually bankrupt message reeking of smugness.

Penn's direction is fine, handling his large cast and location shooting well. The set-pieces are generally well-staged, but Penn can do little to alleviate Hellman's stinker script. John Barry contributes a fine score, his first for a Hollywood film. No one can complain about Spiegel's lavish production values, but his attempts to recreate the biting social commentary of On the Waterfront fall dramatically flat.

Marlon Brando, in the middle of his mid '60s slump, plays Calder as a passive, boring lead. His mumbly Texas accent put this viewer in mind of Boomhauer from King of the Hill, not a good thing in a "serious" social drama. Jane Fonda successfully transitions from comedy star (Cat Ballou) to serious actress, but a pre-superstar Robert Redford is an inert martyr. James Fox (A Passage to India) gives a fine turn with a remarkable Texas accent. The rest of the cast does well: Robert Duvall (The Godfather Part II), E.G. Marshall (Twelve Angry Men), Angela Lansbury (The Manchurian Candidate), Janice Rule (Invitation to a Gunfighter), Richard Bradford (The Untouchables), Clifton James (Live and Let Die), Miriam Hopkins (The Children's Hour), Bruce Cabot (King Kong).

The Chase is a top-notch production, well-made by a fine array of Hollywood talent. All the fine acting and technical skills, however, are at the service of a lame, skewed and mean story. When you stack the dramatic deck this much, you can advocate pretty much anything imaginable, and everything about it rings false. Far from being an overlooked classic, as some have suggested, The Chase is a dated film that's best left forgotten.

Catholic Turns Against Caesar over Abortion

The Telegraph reports that a pro-life campaigner has launched a test case against the BBC by refusing to pay her licence fee because of what she sees as the corporation's support for abortion.

Veronica Connolly, a practising Catholic, claims she is entitled to withhold her payment because the BBC has in the past "censored" a graphic election broadcast from the Pro-Life Alliance, the anti-abortion group.

Mrs Connolly, 53, a grandmother from Birmingham, is being prosecuted for the non-payment of her £139.50 television licence for 2008-9. The anti-abortion campaigner has instructed Paul Diamond, the leading religious rights barrister, to act for her. He will use a ruling from the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR) to support her action that the compulsory payment of the licence fee has breached, or violated, her "conscience".

In an interview with The Sunday Telegraph, Mrs Connolly said yesterday: "I want to highlight that the BBC has become the mouthpiece of the Government, which is generally very pro-abortion. "We get pro-abortion propaganda thrust down our throats and it's time someone said 'no, enough'."

Mrs Connolly, who has been an anti-abortion campaigner for the past six years, added: "Abortion is the biggest human rights issue of our day." In a crime drama screened last year called Hunter, the BBC portrayed anti-abortionists kidnapping and killing children. This representation outraged pro-life campaigners and resulted in numerous complaints.

Mrs Connolly, who is disabled and uses a wheelchair after suffering from ME for 22 years, hopes her case will be heard later this year. If she is convicted, she will take it through the courts on appeal to highlight what she sees as an injustice....

For full article click here.

Latin Mass, Post Mass Drinks Last Night

After the Traditional Latin Mass at St Mary Magdalen's the congregation went to the pub and had a drink. Here we all are. Just goes to show that the Traditional Latin Mass attracts a youthful crowd, eh? Didn't we just have a great time. I know it was Friday but it is good that we are all getting to know each other.

Disclaimer: This post is a total fabrication.

CCC's New English Translation of the Mass Out Soon

Catholics for a Changing Church have announced that a new English translation of the Roman Missal will be released soon.

In what amounts to a radical shift in the liturgy the group maintain that their translation is 'more faithful and accurate to the latin'. The new missal will be strikingly different to what the Church has been used to since the Second Vatican Council.

Controversial aspects of the new translation include the replacement of the phrase 'God our Father' with 'Daddy', 'Lord' with 'O Lordy, Lordy' and 'we ask this through Christ our Lord' with 'for Chrissakes'.

The Kyrie, or 'Lord, have mercy, Christ have mercy' part of the Mass has been replaced by the new translation, "Oops, we did it again, soz Lord."

References to the 'Mother of God' are to be replaced with 'Ma' and the 'St' before names of saints and martyrs of the canon has been removed to be replaced with absolutely nothing.

The new translation of the Sanctus is one part of the Mass which has drawn the most criticism from the more traditional wing of the Church, who are angered that the 'Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of Hosts' has been replaced by the prayer, "Once, twice, three times a holy, man, this dude in Heaven is holy and there ain't no doubt 'bout that, man."

The Agnus Dei, also, has drawn criticism as the phrase 'Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the World' has been translated as, 'Lamby Lord, with minty sauce, you take away the discrimination of the Church, both here and er...abroad.'

A spokesman for Catholics for a Changing Church defended the new translation last night, saying, "The Pope has to get with the times and so should the whole Church. God has changed, its part of His nature to change constantly and above all, we think He wants the Christian community to celebrate the fact that we're all mates in Christ our Diversity. The new translation of the liturgy is reflective of the fact that we're Jesus's mates and we're all mates in Jesus. Talking to God should be like talking to your mates down the pub. Catholics for a Changing Church are waiting for the Pope to acknowledge that. Like, chill out, man! It's only God! Do you know where I can get some pot?"

The head of the Latin Mass Society was unavailable for comment, having been said to have gone into a state of long term catatonia upon reading the CCC's new translation. His wife asks for prayers to be said that he may emerge from it soon.

Great Expectations

David Lean's Great Expectations (1946) is a richly made but problematic film. The gorgeous photography and incredible art direction are belied by clogged-drain pacing and a pair of naff leads. A huge pitfall in adapting something as expansive as a Charles Dickens novel is that much is inevitably lost in transition, and Great Expectations is no exception.

Pip (Tony Wager) is the adoptive son of a blacksmith (Bernard Miles) who accidentally runs into Magwitch (Finlay Currie), an escaped convict, and shows him kindness before he is arrested. Pip comes under the tutelage of the deranged Miss Haversham (Martita Hunt), becoming entranced by her adoptive daughter Estella (Jean Simmons), whom Miss Haversham advises to "break his heart". Years later, helped by a mysterious benefactor, Pip (John Mills) travels to London to become a gentleman, reacquainting himself with childhood chum Herbert Pocket (Alec Guinness) and Estella (Valerie Hobson), as diffident as ever. At the same time, however, he discovers his benefactor is none other than Magwitch - whom Pip must smuggle out of the contrary when the authorities show up.

Great Expectations is unquestionably gorgeous to watch: from Guy Green's striking black-and-white photography to John Bryan and Wilfred Singleton's striking art direction - most notably, the cemetery and marshes early on, and Miss Haversham's vast, cob-web enshrouded mansion, it's a truly beautiful film, reveling in period detail and costumes. The famous opening scene, where Pip encounters Magwitch in a fog-shrouded graveyard, is brilliant, bravura film making at its best. It's much more ambitious than the beautiful but modest Brief Encounter, giving the first hint of the man who would become the pre-eminent director of epics. On a purely artistic level, Lean's film is quite an achievement. In other areas, however, it's highly problematic.

Attempting to compress a Dickens novel into a film is no easy task; compressing it into a two hour film, however, is even trickier. The written-by-committee script (including Lean, his Cineguild buddies Anthony Havelock-Allan and Ronald Neame, Cecil McGivern and Lean's wife Kay Walsh) struggles to make sense of Dickens' jumbled, episodic narrative, with an uneasy flow and sluggish pace, with little connection between scenes. Character development is marginal, with Pip's unsatisfactory narrative filling in gaps and telling us what Lean and Co. seem incapable of expressing - most notably, Pip's supposed conversion to a "snob" and Estella's change of heart. Without the introspective capabilities of a novelist, things just seem to happen, and the result is largely unsatisfactory.

The cast is wildly hit-and-miss. John Mills is badly miscast as Pip, stiff as ever and way too old for the part. Valerie Hobson (Kind Hearts and Coronets) is equally one-note as Estella, easily bettered by the radiant young Jean Simmons. In his first film role, Alec Guinness is unusually colorless. Martita Hunt (Becket) and Finlay Currie (Ben-Hur) shine in the two most colorful roles. The supporting cast includes such fine actors as Francis L. Sullivan (Oliver Twist), Bernard Miles (In Which We Serve), Ivor Barnard (The 39 Steps) and Freda Jackson (A Canterbury Tale).

Ultimately, Great Expectations is a mixed bag. Lean would do a much better job of it with Oliver Twist two years later, creating a Dickens adaptation that works as a film, both artistically satisfying and entertaining.

An Heretic Wrapped in an Enigma Wrapped in Teflon

Watch footage of the nauseating heretic with 'no regrets'. I hope, for his sake, that he doesn't display this kind of arrogance at the General Resurrection...Mind you, I'll grant that in the Face of Almighty God, it will be difficult.

Matthew Parris has written a good article on Tony Blair's defense of his record in the run up to the Iraq War. I particularly like this bit...

Tony Blair is a Manichean, or dualist. He believes that the Universe is best understood as an eternal struggle between the forces of good and evil, in contention for dominance. Christians are supposed to believe that the battle is already won, and Mr Blair’s dualism is (paradoxically) closer to Islamic fundamentalism than to the Gospels. For Mr Blair at least “Axis of Evil” was not just a Bushite soundbite: it was a profound philosophical insight into the meaning of world history. Once you understand this, there is no arguing with him.

Matthew Parris is correct in this analysis. Blair did and still does refer to Saddam as a "monster". The unfortunate characteristic displayed by Blair is not reflective of the way in which the Church describes anyone. We are capable of horrific choices, choices which destroy human life, choices which are mistaken, choices which we then attempt to justify because the 'ends justify the means', or so we think. But that does not make us a "monster". I agree with Matthew Parris, that there was, essentially, not one born-again, Bible-bashing fruit-loop running the war in Iraq, but two. Tony Blair will never 'repent' of the Iraq invasion, primarily because he believes that Saddam was the 'baddy' and he and George were the 'goodies'. Essentially, what we are talking about, here, is a man who treats the issue of war like a child playing soldier games with his friend. "Neeeoooow! Bang! Whoosh! We got him!"

As far as Tony is concerned, it does not matter whether the Iraq war was grounded in deception, spin and fabrication. It does not matter if it was illegal in international law. It does not matter if Parliament was mislead and with it, the British public. It does not matter, either, what we think of him. It does not matter that so many lives were sacrificed and it does not matter whether our soldiers died. Today, it did not appear to matter that the bereaved families were listening to his testimony.

The Iraq war was justified solely on the grounds that Saddam was a "monster". To Tony, it does not even matter that 9/11 had nothing to do with Iraq. Saddam was the bad guy and he and George were the good guys, so private sins such as wilful murder, habitual lying and the worship of money don't matter or are absolved by the removal of the "monster". We all fall short of the Glory of God, of course, but I am beginning to wonder whether the reason that Tony Blair took this country to war was solely because he was and still is, an heretic, unable to accept the teaching of the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church.

Well, let him take his money and his fortune and leave him in peace. After all, he is going to have all of eternity to reflect on his premiership. We should pray for the poor man because 'all the money in the World will never buy back your soul'. Hopefully, in years to come the story of his tenure will be used in Catholic classrooms in teaching the children about the dangers of heresy, moral relativism, religious fundamentalism, faith without reason and the seduction of the proud by money and power.

Of course, I'm not saying he's a "monster" exactly, just a poor sinner, a wounded creature, like me. The saddest thing of all is that he just can't admit that. If I were responsible for that much devastation, death, cruelty and barbarism, I'd just want to put my head on Our Lord's breast and weep until there was no more tears left to be cried. Still, that's what we should all be praying for...

Tony, this one goes out to you.

Too Funny...

Please, check out the website for gcc4vat2.co.uk

In response to the Catholics for a Changing Church website, ccc4vat2.co.uk, a vastly more interesting and amusing campaign has been started called Geriatrics for a Changing Church. The home page really hits the spot.

Geriatrics for a Changeling Church, earlier known as Middle-aged Catholics Trying to Re-live the Sixties, began as a bunch of professional whingers who didn't like being told what to do by the Pope after being encouraged by various liberation-theology cranks to think that Vatican II meant you'd be able to do what you like and there'd be no such thing as sin any more. They were soon joined by assorted trouble-maker ex-priests and lesbian nuns in civvies.

Nobody sensible listened to them, so they started to meet among themselves, talk bollocks, and ignore the fact that no-one was interested. All along it has been a thorn in the side of any parish priest unfortunate enough to have a nest of these vipers (or even one or two) on his manor. Despite a lot of grandiose hogwash about 'a new way of being church', there's nobody involved in this outfit under 70. Nevertheless, we're still trying to foist on younger generations the "Changeling Church" of the Freemasons and Crypto-Protestants who hi-jacked the legacy of Vatican II. Unfortunately, they don't seem to be buying it. But we can't accept we lost the argument after all this time, so we'll keep going as long as they keep bringing us our pills. Oh no, I've been again. Can someone call the nurse?

Just to clarify the group's status, the anonymous author of the fun-poking site has reminded us that it is, 'In no way related to Catholics for a Changing Church. No way at all. Definitely not.' Victor Meldrew chairs this satirical website dedicated to the enthusiasm of a group of elderly Catholics with an unhealthy devotion to Paul Inwood and indebtedness to an age that gave us the pill, the Beatles and a sudden explosion in the recreational use of LSD.

It has been said before and it will be said again that the Benedictine project of liturgical renewal, liberating the Latin Mass from the shackles of appalling guitar strumming and equally appalling loud drumming, amid the cackles of gnostic men and women more interested in their star signs than the one and only Light of the World, Our Lord Jesus Christ, is a movement particularly attractive to men and women in their youth.

Introibo ad altare Dei, ad Deum qui laetificat juventutem meum.
I will go to the Altar of God. To God Who gives joy to my youth.

H/T to a friend.

Whitewash

Here is a whited sepulchre, full of dead men's bones. To check on the progress of Tony Blair in the Iraq Inquiry, click here.

I've been watching some of this inquiry and it appears that certain questions have been omitted. The former Prime Minister was only able to go to war in Iraq because Parliament backed him. Why did Parliament back him? Because of the dossier concerning weapons of mass destruction that could be deployed within 45 minutes. No weapons of mass destruction were found, ergo, it is apparent that Parliament was mislead, democracy was subverted and the nation was deceived.

Ultimately, this is not the Court at which Mr Blair will be held truly accountable. That Court will be the Court of Heaven. That Court will answer the cries of the innocent who died at Blair's behest; the soldiers, the civillians, the children, the women, the men who were sacrificed in an illegal war which served US and UK interests in the region, in a country with no weapons of mass destruction, a country which had already been brought to its knees by sanctions, a tin-pot dictatorship, governing a country rife with poverty and misery. That is the Court that will ask Mr Blair the very real and very difficult questions. That is the Court that will ask probing questions of us all.

"Does power corrupt?"
"Yes, power corrupts."
"Does absolute power corrupt?"
"Oh, yes....Absolutely!"

This inquiry will be toothless. The one to come will be the one that really matters and so let us all join in a chorus in the wilderness and cry out with one voice, "Repent!" Hopefully, Mr Blair and many others, will hear us.

Paul, Daryl and Andy

Had a good night last night. Mister 'P' came over and Daryl, (browsing a calendar of Pope Benedict XVI!) and his friend Andy came over a bit later on. I love cooking for people, as I'm a bit rubbish at doing it for myself. I have rediscovered a fondness for chicken kievs. Andy is really interested in the Catholic Faith and we had a big discussion about the plethora of churches you could join. Obviously, I told him which Church was the One True Church and he might come along to the Latin Mass on Friday. I think that the low Latin Mass is a gentle and kind introduction to the Catholic Faith, as it is not too 'in your face'. Non-Catholics would understandably feel intimidated by a high Mass on Sunday, as everybody else is singing and you wouldn't know the parts of the Mass and you could find yourself feeling like a fish out of water so to speak. At a Latin Mass, there is more space simply to be and to pray.

Andy is a trained carpenter but is out of work. 'Mister P' is a trained cabinet maker. I'd love to learn how to be a carpenter to go along with my gardening stuff. I wonder if me and my friends could start an 'odd job' business in which we pooled out skills which are currently unemployed and made a go of things. It is hard in a recession but it would be great to be our own bosses so to speak. We could do a bit of gardening, a bit of cleaning, a bit of handiwork and all that. That reminds me, I have to do my tax return and sharpish! By the way, Fr Ray, thanks for the digital camera! I'm going to take it everywhere!

Wicker Man

A charming edition to my studio flat...

I did a job for an elderly gentleman in the parish today, throwing out old papers he needed no longer. He generously pays me for doing odd jobs for him and checking up on him everyday. On the way to driving over to his place to pick up some papers to recycle at the refuse tip, I found this delightful wicker bookcase by St Michael and All Angels Anglican Church. Needed a bit of a clean but other than that it fits perfectly in my studio flat. St Pio of Pietrelcina now guards it. I have a few books and videos and they nearly all fit nicely. I picked up this sofa from a guy who does freecycling in Brighton. I was just passing him with my friend Paul when I was moving in and he asked if I needed a sofa. I was over the moon...it even reclines! Next to it are some pine drawers I found near my place.



At the tip I was horrified to see a man taking a fish tank, almost exactly the same size as mine over to the landfill section. Does nobody think about what they are throwing away to put in landfill? Believe me, even though I live in an eco-flat and enjoy finding things people don't want anymore and selling them, or keeping them myself, I'm not an eco-warrior. I found this small office cabinet near my street. I found the computer desk near my street and I found the stereo on the road near St Mary Magdalens. I found the TV, with an in-built video player near St Mary Magdalen's Church with a sign on it saying, "Merry Christmas!" The stereo sounds great and you can put 5 CDs in at the same time and change which CD you want to hear! I must say, that since I got a place of my own I've become somewhat materialistic, but when stuff is literally going begging, what are you meant to do!?



It just seems to me that there's so much waste going on. Why throw out stuff that other people might need or want only for it to go into landfill which is hardly an infinite place for refuse? Finding that bookcase brightened up my day! Someone might have really quite liked that fishtank and now its smashed up on a rubbish dump! Look! I found this splendid shelf unit with matching clothes wardrobe by a bin near the station! Very nearly a whole flat decked out with furniture and electrical goods for free! I regret not throwing myself in front of him and imploring him to give it to me to sell or give to someone! I might have to start hanging out at rubbish dumps all day saying to people, "You're not really going to get rid of that, are you? I'll find a home for it!"

Self-Flagellation

Inspired by the example of Pope John Paul II, who it is said mortified his body with a leather belt, I have bought some wool from the local fabric shop. I'm going to give myself the hardest thrashing I ever had in reparation for my sins and to mortify my passions. If you don't hear from me again, its because I've got tangled up in it and am unable to make it to a phone or my computer.

Why should we count it as something evil that Pope John Paul II did this to himself, as a penance for his shortcomings in imitating Christ. This is the same age that increasingly condones suicide and assisted suicide, saying, ‘It’s my life, my body, my choice'. What is really disturbing? A light bit of flaggelation every now and then as penance for ones sins, or an act of total self-destruction?

Furthermore, he was inflicting some corporal punishment upon himself – not others – it wasn’t 'self-harm’ – it was self-discipline. He was truly a ‘man for others’, people who met him realised that. Being a ‘man for others’ he chose to be a man going against his own desires or interest. It might seem medieval, but who amongst us wouldn’t like to see a few public Catholics doing some public penance?

Keep Praying!

Rico Dibrivell, 35, covered in dust and dressed only in underpants, was carried out from the ruins of a building in the centre of the capital Port-au-Prince.

After apparently being trapped under rubble for 14 days, Mr Dibrivell would be one of the world's longest survivors of an earthquake, though experts on the scene said it was possible that he had been caught in more recent days when a damaged building collapsed. He did not appear to have serious injuries.

Don McCullin's 1989 Newsnight Film on London's Homeless

Newsnight celebrates its 30th anniversary today. In honour of their journalistic endeavours, they have posted some good and memorable reports from their archives on their website. Click here for Don McCullin's 1989 film about London's homeless. It is as relevant today as it was then. Human dignity is not something to be decided by the State or any man. Human dignity has been raised by Christ who redeemed us, by taking upon Himself our humanity. He has raised our dignity to heights of which we cannot fathom and no man, no Government, no culture and no law can take that dignity away from us.

Martin Amiss

Martin Amis, when he was better looking and younger. Corduroy jacket? Check! Serious, 'I'm an intellectual, don't you know?' writer's face? Check! Cigarette in hand? Check! Bowl of fruit? Check! Insulting, existential-angst-ridden, sixth form common room musings on the dignity of the elderly? Check!

Defending his scandalous words in yearning for a day when the elderly will have euthanasia booths on street corners, Martin Amis said, “To be human is to have a certain amount of dignity, and I don’t see that dignity in the demented. It’s unworthy of a human being to have to go through that. The choice to die is a noble privilege we should all have.”

Without wishing to go all Graham Greene on his arse, this really does get to the 'heart of the matter'. The whole problem with moral relativism is that if you define yourself by its morbid obsession with the evil twin cults of self and death then you don't see the true dignity of any human being, yourself included.

The children of the World, in contrast to the children of God, give people value by a set of arbitrary and grossly materialistic and shallow standards. These people believe that people have dignity if they are say youthful in apperance, attractive, monied, working, productive and healthy.

These people believe that people do not have dignity if they are old, unattractive, poor, unemployed, unproductive or ill, mentally, long-term physicially or mentally. Martin Amis's whole premise on making such foolish statements is totally and utterly infused with relativistic despair and ultimately, a deathly and chilling nihilism.

Martin Amis does not believe that 'the demented', by which we take it he means those suffering dementia, have dignity. This is extreme and insulting language indeed, since who is he, an over-rated novelist, to decide who has dignity, and who does not? Of course, he might believe that those with dementia do have a kind of innate dignity, but they don't look like they have dignity, but he's left it rather open-ended, hasn't he? By extension, we can assume that Amis believes the same of all long-term disabled men and women with say, cerebral palsy. I mean, if people can't just jump out of their wheelchairs and write yarns while living off the back of their father's literary success, then the disabled might as well just be wheelchaired off Beachy Head now, right?

We are living in dangerous times indeed, times in which if someone doesn't 'appear' to have dignity, then they are judged not to deserve it. Dignity, Mr Amis, is not in the eye of the beholder. It just is. It is the dignity of the human person, precisely, which should protect individuals from the clutches of people who fail to see it. Like Mr Amis, we may not always conduct ourselves with it, but we have a God-given dignity which cannot be removed. If you try and remove dignity from some people, or say that certain groups do not possess it, then you deny these people their humanity and eventually you view them as sub-human.

This is the real reason that assisted suicide has come back to the headlines with two cases in quick succession this week. In neither of the cases were the children who were 'helped to die' by their mothers accorded their true dignity. Both were treated as sub-human. Our dignity, from conception to natural death, is the only barrier between a civilised society and the gas chambers, but senseless writers like Amis don't think about this, instead choosing to spout off their sick view of the human race. I hope his latest characters have more depth and love for people than he does!

Assisted Suicide Laws Thrown Into Disarray

The Government's Director of Public Vacillation, Keith Starmer.

The Telegraph reports on a disturbing case, the precedent of which hardly bodes well for the future of the protection of the vulnerable in the UK. The law is said to be in disarray because, according to the Daily Mail, 'the case was in stark contrast to that of Frances Inglis, the mother given nine years last week for injecting her brain-damaged son with a lethal dose of heroin, because Lynn had said she wanted to die.'

The law surrounding the prosecution of relatives who help their loved ones to die was thrown into disarray last night after a mother was cleared of trying to kill her daughter. Kay Gilderdale walked from court after being acquitted of the attempted murder of Lynn, 31, despite previously admitting to helping her commit suicide.

Lynn decided she wanted to end her life after her body had been left “broken” by 17 years of the chronic fatigue illness ME. At the age of 14, a sporty, athletic Lynn began a downward spiral that would see her confined to her bedroom, unable to move her legs, swallow or eat. At her most severely ill, she could recognise no one. Mrs Gilderdale initially tried to stop her daughter ending her life but backed down after she said: “I want the pain to go — I don’t want to go on.”

Mrs Gilderdale admitted assisting her suicide by giving her sleeping pills, antidepressants and injecting air into her veins in December 2008 after her daughter had injected herself with morphine.

But she was also prosecuted for the attempted murder of her daughter, only to be cleared unanimously by a jury yesterday in less than two hours. It emerged that Keir Starmer, the Director of Public Prosecutions (DPP), had taken the decision to pursue the attempted murder charge in November, a month after issuing guidance on assisted suicides. The move came after law lords backed a call for clarification of the law by Debbie Purdy, a multiple sclerosis sufferer.

The Gilderdale case revived the debate surrounding both “mercy killings” and assisted suicide after issues were raised over why the 55-year-old was in court at all. Last year, two judges questioned whether it was in the public interest to prosecute her for attempted murder, given that she had pleaded guilty to aiding and abetting suicide. One suggested the case be dropped rather than “let this defendant get tangled up in a messy trial for the sake of some legal mumbo jumbo”...

So, there we have it! Whether someone actively participated in someone's suicide, instead of assisting them to live, is now 'some legal mumbo jumbo'...) Both this lady's daughter and the boy with brain damage were vulnerable. Consent to being killed, suicide, is not the mindset of a healthy, balanced individual. Suicidal tendencies require supervision, care, compassion and love.

[Full article, click here...]

Calling All St Mary Magdalen's Parishioners!

Do you want to raise money for the St Mary Magdalen Building Fund?

Run the Brighton Marathon! That's you, I mean...not me! Fr Ray? I'll do it, if I must, but you had better be generous with your donations! Now that is what I call penance!

Dumbass Rides Again

Perhaps you didn't realize it from my recent "column", but Ben Shapiro is an idiot. A week after infecting our brains with his list of Top 10 Overrated Directors, which reads the like the drivelings of a mentally-challenged IMDBer, Shapiro gives us a new piece, listing the Ten Greatest Directors. I'm not going to take too much issue with his list, although it's a pretty basic group of directors, but it's worth noting for his combination of apologia and defensiveness over his last column.

Last week, I stirred some folks up with my Top Ten Most Overrated Directors of All Time... And by “stirred some folks up,” I mean faced down a virtual lynch mob.

Poor you! You get paid for stirring folks up with asinine film lists, and then mean Internet peoples call you names! You have the hardest job in the world, I tell you what.

Okay, some of these comments are pretty mean, but still, if you don't want mean Internet people to flog you, you'd better show more taste and talent than the average denizen of IMDB. Or else forfeit your salary to charity or something.

Who knew that Aronofsky supporters were fans of the film Fury?

Gratuitous esoteric cultural reference? Check.

If you think about it, though, this doesn't even make sense, given that Fury is very much an anti-lynching movie. But as we've seen before, the degree to which Mr. Shapiro's brain repells logic is truly astounding.

A few quick items in response to that piece. First, it was not about “bad directors”...but about overrated directors.

Yeah, we get the distinction, although if you're going to do nothing but bad-mouth them, I'd say that's as good as calling them bad.

Alfred Hitchcock is nowhere near the worst director ever (I was probably too harsh to label him “slightly better than mediocre”), but it is a travesty to label him the greatest director of all time, as so many have.

Yes, an opinion contrary to yours, O Learned One, is clearly a "travesty".

Before you accuse me of hypocrisy, let me be clear that I'm mocking this guy not for his opinions, but his utter inability to argue a point, grasp logic, or write. When your criticism of Raging Bull amounts to "it's gross", you've forfeited my respect.

The same holds true for David Lean (I appreciate Great Expectations, Brief Encounter, and swaths of Bridge Over the River Kwai, I just think he doesn’t deserve to make the top 20 list)

Do you still think Brief Encounter is "half-an-hour too long"? Granted, I wouldn't mind overmuch if you cut out the stuff with Stanley Holloway and Joyce Carrey.

Second, I neglected three directors who clearly should have made the list: Roman Polanski (somebody stop the Chinatown cult!), Spike Lee (how can he make race relations this dull?), and Tim Burton (damn you for ruining Sweeney Todd).

So your apologia amounts to trying to piss off more people.

I'm glad you didn't bring up Polanski though, because you'd probably make some self-satisfied rant about his pedophilia.

Rebecca and Suspicion are the same film, not Notorious and Rebecca;

Well, that's less of a reach than what you were previously claiming, but that's still no more than case than Notorious and Topaz being the same film.

the Orlando Bloom reference was to Black Hawk Down, not G.I. Jane

You mean Orlando Bloom isn't a woman? Could have fooled me.

Now, to the real question:

"How do I have a job?"

the top-ten greatest directors of all time

Oh.

Wait a minute, isn't this the guy who said in his last article that the auteur theory was "idiotic"? What is this article if not a celebration of auteurism?

Ben, maybe you want to familiarize yourself with the concepts of "logic" and "consistency". If you have a moment.

This is truly a rough decision – there are at least two score great directors who could make this list.

If you want to be really technical there are probably hundreds of directors worthy of consideration for such a list. But okay.

Here is my one basic criteria: directors who provide me the most viewing pleasure over the course of their career.

Damn, and my list of favorite directors was based on the "one basic criteria" of whom caused me the most pain!

That means telling a great story in the best possible way

So nothing about cinematography, camera work, acting, art direction, any of that? Gotcha.

Subjective? Sure. Deal with it.

This from the guy who says that it's a "travesty" that someone could think Alfred Hitchcock is a great director. What were saying about logic and consistency?

It's all subjective, though, and I'm sure there's someone in the Universe besides your daddy who thinks you're a good writer.

I’ll admit that this list skews toward older directors, not because older movies are generally better than newer movies (though I think they are), but because directors in the period 1920-1960 generally made more movies, which means more opportunities for directors to shine.

I would strongly disagree with the concept that quantity equals quality, but okay.

I’ll start by explaining why certain directors are not in the top ten.

So a pre-emptive apologia this time around. Nice. This must mean your list is really bad.

Francis Ford Coppola: He had a period of unbelievable creative magic. Within a ten year period, he made Finian’s Rainbow (1968), a charming musical; The Godfather (1972), which requires no commentary; The Conversation (1974), perhaps the creepiest movie ever made; The Godfather: Part II (1974), which matches its predecessor in quality; and Apocalypse Now (1979), a mad journey into the heart of darkness. Then he was done. How this talented filmmaker went from The Godfather to the atrocity that was Jack (1996) is utterly bewildering. It was tough to keep him off the top ten list. It was even harder to boot someone from that list to make room for him.

I only take issue with this because that the Godfather films alone are so friggin' awesome as to qualify Coppola for the list. Coppola has a much smaller number of films than, say, Hitchcock, and I'd say his batting percentage is about the same.

Peter Jackson: I believe Jackson’s Lord of the Rings trilogy to be the finest directorial effort of all time, surpassing even Citizen Kane.

I'll let this speak for itself. Still, I might argue that "the finest directorial effort of all time" would earn one a place on the list of greatest directors.

King Kong was overlong and CGI-obsessed

Compared to what, the modest, tightly-paced character drama that was Return of the King?

Orson Welles: Citizen Kane requires no explication – it is justifiably seen by many as the greatest directorial job ever. His Othello is similarly creative and inspired. The Magnificent Ambersons follows the pattern. But Welles destroyed himself and his career, and the fates should never forgive him for wasting his unparalleled talent.

Nothing on Touch of Evil or Chimes at Midnight or The Trial or F for Fake? Welles' life after Kane was extremely rough, but that doesn't in any way diminish the work he did put out.

Stanley Kubrick: Overrated

That was your last list, numbnuts. Keep focused on the topic at hand.

Fritz Lang: M is the best foreign language film ever made. Period.

No.

Perhaps if I’d seen more Lang, I’d put him up in the top ten (the only other films I’ve seen of his are Fury and The Big Heat), so I’ll claim ignorance here.

Just here? Don't be modest!

Fred Zinneman: Perhaps the best conventional director of all time – a man who simply puts on camera what needs to be there. He’s not the artist that any of the top ten are, but he did create The Day of the Jackal, A Man for All Seasons, Oklahoma!, From Here to Eternity, and High Noon, a list to be reckoned with.

Good on ya, mate, you got one right!

Victor Fleming: How hard was it to come up with this list?

It completely destroyed your faculties of reason and coherence, apparently.

John Huston: The best adventure director of all time, responsible for The Man Who Would Be King, Moby Dick, The African Queen, and The Maltese Falcon. Again, not enough versatility to put him over the top.

What. What? WHAT!?!

Okay, let's take a look at what he just said.

The first three films would qualify under the general rubric of "adventure" films, despite the difference in time and setting. But The Maltese Falcon is a friggin' film noir! What "adventure" does anyone go on there?

This isn't even to mention Huston's Westerns (Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean, Treasure of the Sierra Madre), social dramas (The Asphalt Jungle), musicals (Moulin Rouge, Annie), romantic character dramas (The Dead), etc. Not all of them are all-time masterpieces, but surely you'd agree that Huston's resume spans a large number of genres.

No versatility. You need a dictionary, boy.

I'm thinking of starting a petition to get this guy fired and out on the street. In these hard economic times, lots of people need work, and when there are people starving, Ben Shapiro should not have a job writing for Big Hollywood.

That is all.

Chris Morris's New Jihad Comedy

Michael Deacon of Telegraph Blogs has posted this video clip of a new Chris Morris movie about rubbish terrorists.

Above is a clip of Four Lions, the debut feature-length movie from Chris Morris, the controversy-monger behind the viciously funny Brass Eye, The Day Today, On the Hour and his short-lived but excellent Radio 1 music show (as well as the clumsy misfire Nathan Barley).

The comedy, which received its debut at the Sundance festival at the weekend and whose release date hasn’t yet been confirmed, is said to be a kind of Islamists’ Dad’s Army: it follows a group of howlingly inept Islamic would-be terrorists who yearn for jihad without really understanding what it means or how properly to achieve it. A bit like all Islamic terrorists, then.

We thought satire had been trumped by fact with the pants bomber but this new movie could be rather funny. If it reaches the heights of 'The Day Today' or the outrageous and funny 'Brass Eye' then it could be worth seeing. This was the 'bombdogs' alert.



This was Chris Morris interviewing Australia and Britain into war.

The Bigger Issue

We have a few problems with The Big Issue magazine. It is sold with the slogan 'a help up, not a hand out', but just how true is this? For anyone unfamiliar with this magazine, The Big Issue is a magazine started by John A. Bird which is distributed by the homeless and hostel dwellers. The homeless take a cut of about 50-60p per issue, the rest of the money going into The Big Issue Trust for the running of the magazine and any projects the company want to operate. It has a good reputation but there are a few obvious problems with it.

Firstly, we don't know anyone who buys the magazine because they are loyal to the magazine, or because they thoroughly enjoy reading it. It doesn't make you laugh, its tediously written and we don't know anybody who likes it. Our experience of buying the Big Issue is that motive for buying it is charity, not interest in the magazine which is usually dull, uninteresting and irritating to read. We know that many people give a bit of money to the vendor and tell them to keep the magazine, so they obviously feel the same as we do.

Secondly, it is sold as a 'help up'. There is dignity in working, selling a magazine on the street, so it isn't a 'hand out'. This is how it is sold. But, the reality is a bit different. Big Issue vendors stand, often for hours in a day, often in rain, wind, snow, sleet, calling out 'Big Issue' to members of the public and waiting, hoping that someone will buy it. The amount of money the vendors make depends on how long they work. Having met a couple of vendors I know that they often work 10-12 hours a day, if not more.

It is not a guaranteed income and so they could stand there all day, make next to nothing and walk back to a hostel with change in their pocket. This is not dignity in work, this is tantamount to slavery. Meanwhile, the owner of The Big Issue, who professes to having been on the streets himself, having got off drugs and drink and become a successful social entrepreneur is rolling in it. Meanwhile, also, The Big Issue makes money from advertising, the rest of the cost price of the magazine and pays its writing, editorial and sales/marketing team substantial wages for producing the publication every week. This is how a good idea can go wrong. Those who sell the issue, in real terms, make peanuts, pittance out of selling it, nothing like a living wage, while the writers and workers and the owner make a lot of money.

This central injustice also affects the content of the magazine because it is true to say that the majority of the writers and editorial team have never experienced homelessness or had drug or drink problems which are often experienced by the homeless. At worse, The Big Issue makes slaves of the homeless and vulnerable who sell it, while writers and editors and the owner have the kind of salary of which the homeless can only dream. It is not a 'help up'. It isn't even much of a 'hand out'. A good magazine which addresses homelessness would be one which was written, produced and owned by the homeless and the marginalised, where their voices were heard instead of used to shout out 'Big Issue!' on street corners everyday in the rain, sun or snow, because frankly, a magazine written by the homeless would be better than The Big Issue, more interesting, probably funnier and more truthful than what is being presented at the moment.

Laurence England & George Horvath

The Ultimate Cheese

Buy delicious new Low Low Cheese. The Ultimate Cheese.

Sorry...times are hard. They called me having seen my blog. They offered me a months supply of cheese and a cheque for £100 and in the end I crackered.

Where Eagles Dare

If you liked The Guns of Navarone except for the plot, the dialogue, the characters and the semblance (however tenuous) of realism, then Where Eagles Dare (1968) is the film for you! Anticipating the Medal of Honor video game series, Alistair MacLean's follow-up to the much-garlanded 1961 film is a mindless World War II action flick, filled with bizarre, improbable twists and turns and scene after scene of faceless Nazis getting knocked over en masse like swastika-adorned bowling pins. It's fun up to a point, but it will disappoint anyone looking for more than just cartoonish gunplay and explosions.

In 1943, a US Army General (Robert Beatty) is shot down over Germany, along with Allied plans for the invasion of France. A crack team of mostly-British commandos, led by Major Smith (Richard Burton) and American Lieutenant Shaffer (Clint Eastwood), parachute into the Bavaria to raid the Schloss Adler, the forbidding headquarters of the Nazi Alpinkorps where the General is being held. Almost immediately, the commandos start turning up dead, and things are clearly not what they seem. A series of twists and turns reveals several characters to be traitors, others to be otherwise lying about their identities, and very little of it is sorted out by the time the bullets and bombs start to fly.

It's rare for a movie to so frankly describe itself, but when Ferdy Mayne's befuddled General shouts "THIS IS PREPOSTEROUS!" during Richard Burton's epic mindfuck session, he's encapsulated Where Eagles Dare in a nutshell. The movie's featherweight plot goes through so many twists and turns that it eventually collapses under its own weight - it even ends with a gratuitous twist. The set-up is silly but well-done, creating mood, tension and character, but after the brilliant scene where Burton confuses the hell out of everyone and then does it again, the movie falls back on endless scenes of Clint Eastwood gunning down interchangable Nazis en masse while things explode in the background. If you're like me, after awhile that becomes tiresome, particularly when the film's incongruities and plot holes start to pile up.

Director Brian G. Hutton handles the direction well; the movie has its share of fine sequences, from the twice-mentioned Burton scene to the epic ice-ax fight on top of a movie tram car, but the hallway machine-gun shootouts quickly become repetitive. The art direction by Peter Mullins, with the looming, cavernous Schloss Adler, and Arthur Ibbetson's imposing cinematography of the foreboding, white Alpine forrests, are excellent. Ron Goodwin's rousing score also contributes much to the film. If nothing else, the adventure is certainly stylish.

Richard Burton and Clint Eastwood are both excellent, playing off each other surprisingly well, and making their ridiculous characters almost believable. Mary Ure (Custer of the West) has a near-pointless role as Burton's glamorous gal pal; Ingrid Pitt (Doctor Zhivago) fares better in a smaller part. The most interesting characters are the trio of Nazi villains - Ferdy Mayne (The Captain's Paradise) as the General, Anton Diffring (Fahrenheit 451) as the flustered Colonel, Derren Nesbitt (The Blue Max) as the arrogant Gestapo man. It says little for Maclean's sense of dramatic economy that all three are killed before the action properly gets underway.

Where Eagles Dare is the perfect movie to have on TV in the background as you do homework or chores. Its plot is so complicated that it doesn't begin to make sense, and the whole thing is incredibly, knowingly frivolous - paying attention is beside the point. I suppose it's fun enough for a mindless Saturday afternoon movie, but at 158 minutes it comes close to wearing out its welcome.

Keep Praying!

Guardian reports...

A man was dramatically rescued tonight after spending 11 days under the rubble of a hotel in Port-au-Prince, hours after the Haitian government declared search and rescue operations over.

I heard today that the UN have said that the search and rescue operation is 'over'. Thank God some agencies are still looking for the living. Nothing is impossible for God, as we have seen over the last few days.

Watch this! So funny!

Massive send up of Pet Shop Boys.

A Very Catholic Song!

Electronic formed from the break-up of The Smiths. Crystal cut, diamond guitarist Johnny Marr on guitar, Bernard Summer of New Order on vocals and Pet Shop Boys man doing backing vocals on this track. 'Getting Away with It'. Enjoy! I've realised that I don't need to move a friend's drum kit into my flat as I've got my keyboard back. Home recording is go, with a little help from my friends...New Order and Electronic used synth drum beats, don't you know!

Rising Baseball Star Leaves Profession for Priesthood

Soon to be seminarian and 'L'Osservatore Romano' 2015 Calendar Priest for November, Grant Desme. Sorry, ladies, he's off limits!

May God be praised! What a generous and courageous man!

Oakland Athletics prospect Grant Desme has turned his back on professional baseball - to join the Priesthood. The 23-year-old outfielder was the Most Valuable Player in last year's Arizona Fall League, where major league clubs send their top prospects each autumn. But Desme, a lifelong Catholic, plans to enter a seminary this summer.

"I was doing well at baseball. But I really had to get down to the bottom of things - I love the game, but I aspire to higher things," he explained. "I wasn't at peace where I was at. I have no regrets. I felt that while baseball is a good thing, I thought it was selfish of me to be doing that when I really felt that God was calling me more

Desme, who had looked set to receive an invitation to spring training with Oakland's major league players next month, had been considering the move for over a year, despite hitting 31 home runs and stealing 40 bases in the minor leagues in 2009. "Last year before the season started, I really had a strong feeling of a calling and a real strong desire to follow it. I just fought it," he explained. "As the year went on, God blessed me. I had a better year than I could have imagined, but that reconfirmed my desire. "I felt that while baseball is a good thing, I thought it was selfish of me to be doing that when I really felt that God was calling me more."

He informed the A's management on Thursday evening, and now expects to begin "a 10-year process" towards becoming a priest while he studies at St Michael's Abbey in Orange County. Oakland general manager Billy Beane added: "We respect Grant's decision and wish him nothing but the best in his future endeavours."

So, he's traded in whacking balls for whacking the Devil, the flesh, the World and the self. Great news!

RIP Jean Simmons

Another classic Hollywood star passes on: the incredibly gorgeous and talented Jean Simmons, star of Great Expectations, Guys and Dolls, Spartacus and Elmer Gantry.

As a side note, it's ironic that she dies the same day as the new Spartacus miniseries. Let's hope Kirk Douglas and Tony Curtis don't follow suit.

Topaz

Topaz (1969) is one of Alfred Hitchcock's most-maligned films, a dry, slow, "realistic" Cold War spy caper with a non-star cast. Some of the criticisms are fair - it's long, slow-paced, and unfocused, with a wooden plank of a lead in Frederick Stafford - but it's far from the bad, boring film its reputation suggests. Its brilliant scenes come in spurts, but parts of Topaz are Hitchcock at or near his best. If nothing else, it's miles better than the interminable, dull-as-dirt Torn Curtain.

In 1962, with the Cuban Missile Crisis heating up, KGB Chief Boris Kusenov (Per-Axel Arosenius) defects to America. French intelligence Agent Andre Devereaux (Frederick Stafford) is approached by CIA Chief Michael Nordstrom (John Forsythe) to investigate Kusenov's information of Russian missiles in Cuba. Devereaux uses his Cuban spy ring, including lover Juanita De Cordoba (Karin Dors), to gain information, only to run afoul of Rico Para (John Vernon), Castro's vicious right-hand man - and Juanita's paramour. Devereaux also uncovers the existence of Topaz, a ring of KGB spies operating out of Paris, and tries to smoke out the culprits - including several of his high-ranking colleagues.

Topaz's biggest problem is that it seems like two movies in one. The two main plot threads - Devereaux's work in Cuba, and the unravelling of the Paris spy ring - are loosely connected at best, and both halves seem strangely underdeveloped. The Cuba scenes are fleshed out with the Deverauex-Para-Juanita triangle, which plays as a retread of Notorious, and some liberally-used stock footage of Castro and Che Guevara. Throw in a trite subplot about Devereaux's family troubles, and Topaz is all over the place, with too many characters to follow, and too many plot threads left hanging. To be fair, the movie is never boring, but at the same time so much is going on that the story doesn't properly come together. The ending is a bizarrely unsatisfying non-climax - and yet it's the best of the three filmed endings.

Despite his supposed disinterest in the project, Hitchcock does a fine job directorally, and the movie excells at individual set-pieces, some of which rank among Hitchcock's best. The most famous is Para's murder of Juanita, with her purple dress spreading out beneath her like a pool of blood. Hitchcock makes brilliant use of silence in a number of scenes, from the tense escape of the defectors at the film's onset, to Philippe's (Roscoe Lee Browne) infiltration of a Cuban-occupied hotel, to the ingenious way a pair of Cuban spies are unmasked, and the disturbing post-torture scene. Jack Hildyard's striking photography and Maurice Jarre's low-key score certainly help matters, though Samuel Taylor's script is clunky and overloaded with exposition. Even if the underlying story is subpar, the movie is worth watching for these individual scenes.

Frederick Stafford, an unknown Austrian actor, is a handsome dud, giving a thoroughly wooden and stiff performance. John Forsythe (The Trouble With Harry) is equally one-note, while the beautiful Diane Dors (You Only Live Twice) is left hanging with a half-developed character. Dany Robin and Claude Jade go through the motions as Andre's estranged wife and daughter. The most interesting performances are in the corners: John Vernon's (Animal House) fearsome strongman, Philippe Noiret (Cinema Paradiso) and Michel Piccoli's (Belle du Jour) French spies, Roscoe Lee Browne's (The Cowboys) Harlem florist and Per-Axel Arosenius's obnoxious defector.

Topaz is a mess, but it's at least an entertaining one. There's a germ of a good idea or two here, and some excellent individual scenes; it's too bad that it doesn't quite come together into a great film. Ultimately Topaz is one of those films that's more interesting than good.

Keep Praying!

BBC reports that an 84-year-old woman has been rescued after spending 10 days under rubble following the Haiti quake.

Doctors say the woman has multiple wounds and her condition is grave, but are doing all they can to save her...[Full story here.]

Fr Bing on St John Bosco & Sex Education

Interesting video by a Priest called Fr Bing on the Church's role in instructing children in the Faith and the new battle looming over sex education. He offers St John Bosco as a model of wisdom in the daunting task ahead.

A man of ideas, a man about town, but not a man of action...

Front page of a magazine I developed and placed under the patronage of St Anthony of Padua. First draft and as you can see, I'm still obsessed with the West Pier.

I can be a prize idiot at times. You know, I have a lot of ideas. I tell them to other people and in the end people say something like, "You're barking." I come up with ideas for how to raise money for the Church, like collecting jars and selling my Grandma's recipe for apple chutney outside the Church. Then I say stuff like, I think we should get a load of cucumbers and pickle them and sell them to the Poles who go to Mass. They could get all their Polish food from us. Then I think about nicking a few soup recipes and selling soup.

People compliment my spaghetti bolognese sauce and I think to myself, 'We could sell that'. People love my carbonara sauce. I think, 'We could sell that!' I've done a gardening course, a book-keeping course (nearly!), a journalism course and a politics degree, I've humiliated myself during half of a primary school teaching course and walked away with a shattered self-esteem. I've done a desk-top publishing course and know how to use the packages and yet still, I am here, blogging, scraping by, falling into debt and then running back to mummy and daddy at the age of 32, just so I can keep my car on the road. I think now and then of going back and trying to do a teaching course in R.E, or nursing, but I have done SO MANY courses, it is getting beyond a joke. There must be another way.

The idea of a magazine, a new magazine, has been buzzing around my head for a long time. I think of the many ways that monasteries are able to generate an income for their necessities and find it inspiring. They move in somewhere and put their heads together and say, "Right...How we going to pay for this place, then?" One of the brothers turns around and says, "Let's buy a beehive and keep it in the larder. We'll sell honey and stuff."

I am unemployed and know more than a few unemployed people. The worse aspect of unemployment is the feeling useless and feeling like you are not contributing to society, so you become enclosed and insular. All too easily you can become and outsider and feel outside of society, cast adrift. All my ideas, I'd like to do. I'd like to start a magazine with the help of unemployed people, perhaps homeless people too, something in which people could tell their stories and raise awareness of what life is really like in poverty in Brighton, if not in the UK. Things start small and like a mustard seed, can grow with faith and prayer. I know two guys who sell the Big Issue who are fed up with it. They like the idea of a magazine which is developed and written by people really living poverty.

I talked to a volunteer at Voices in Exile who told me he works in Shoreham and runs a company with friends selling pies. How great is that! He just got together with some friends and they all thought and said, "Let's sell pies." So, they did! I know that there is funding for some projects.

I guess what I am saying is that I'd like to be some kind of a 'brother' and start a kind of lay community of unemployed people doing monastic type things, living a monastic-type life, like praying the Rosary, going to Mass, working, but being a self-sufficient community of people. I know that these things are difficult, very difficult in fact, but not impossible. All I do know is that it cannot be done alone. Strength is in groups, even relatively small groups to pool together their talents and their skills and come up with something that works. I'm not a communist, but I do think that capitalism drives people apart rather than brings people together. Thatcherism was too individualistic. I think that Caritas in Veritate picked up on the truth that we are a little inter-dependent. We need other people and other people need us. I think...I think that what I am saying, is that I am a hippy. We wouldn't have to live together, but we could do something positive.

The Holy Father is Coming...the Liberals Quake!

Catholic Voices are coming...and they're not the voices the UK are used to! Hopefully the majority will be voxes catholicam. My Latin is terrible, isn't it?

Mark Dowd of The Guardian is worried about the Holy Father's visit. He's not worried about his safety, oh no. He's not worried about him being pilloried in public, oh no. Having swooned at Pope John Paul II when he graced the UK, he doesn't much fancy Pope Benedict XVI by the sounds of things. The former friar turned big public spokesman on Catholic issues, at, err, The Guardian, the paper so renowned for running in front of buses to push the Pope out of the way of oncoming media calamities, is worried that truly Catholic voices will be heard by Our Lady's Dowry. Well, it may be that a chap from Opus Dei is doing the PR for the Holy Father's visit because some within the Church are aware of just how popular the Holy Father is amongst our Bishops. Now, where's that cardigan I'm so fond of...

"The Pope is coming! The Pope is coming!" cry excited Catholics and this time, with no tricky Falklands diplomacy to navigate around, it is to be an official visit. In early autumn, Benedict XVI will be accorded all the pomp normally associated with a head of state. So why am I already full of fear and apprehension? After all, in May 1982, when John Paul II came to these shores, I got up at 4am, donned my white Dominican habit (yes I was a friar for a brief period from 1981 to 1983), and joined five thousand other religious in Roehampton. We sang. We cheered and waved our wee yellow and white flags with the Holy See's coat of arms on them. The Popemobile swept past within an inch or two. John Paul. What a face! He positively seemed to look through me. He smiled. I felt reduced to total insignificance, yet touched by something from beyond. Only the Polish Pope has ever had that kind of effect on me...' [Full article here]

And this is the best bit of the whole, rather shoddy article.

'In truth, this is a scary time to be a liberal Catholic. '

Ha-hah! Isn't it just!? Good time to be a Catholic though, wouldn't you say?!

Masters of War

I've been having an argument on the blog of Fr Dwight Longnecker which is most unseemly. I have not helped in making it seemly, but some things need to be said! He is a Priest, so I should be more respectful of his blog than a layman's, but I took objection to his post on the gun sights scripture story on US soldier's guns, for more than one reason! What I really do not like is nationalism to the point of blindness towards our own Government's corruption and agendas. I watched, very recently a TV programme about hospital workers in Afghanistan who are daily treating our British soldiers, who arrive, at the age of 18, 19, 20 with their legs blown off from roadside bombs. We honour their sacrifice, but should we honour the Government that spends our brothers' blood so cheaply!?

Both Iraq and Afghanistan can, now, be nothing but endless wars, drenched in futility, the original motives of which will always be dubious, in light of revelations new and old. We, we, as Catholics, should never put the pride of our nationality above our identity as children of God, nor should we forget the dignity of those, even those who hate us! Our Blessed Lord said as much when he said, "Love those who hate you."

I, personally am not a British Catholic. I am a Catholic! Of what use will our nationality be in Heaven! That means that if the Government who runs the country in which I was born, or the Government in the US, or whatever powerful Government is running a war which is highly circumspect from the outset, and, indeed, whatever evil they claim they may be fighting to win our support, until I see a Papal Bull backing it, I'll not consent! It is not being done in either my, nor the Church's name and never has Pope Benedict XVI, or, I think, his predecessor, given his blessing to either of these wars.

Both the US and the UK, we shall doubtless reap what we have sowed over there. Our presence there is by no means defeating terrorism. No, we are merely pouring petrol onto the flames of a fire and I dare say that no matter how many body scanners you put in airports now, thanks to Tony and George, we're gonna get burned someday! Just for those who are interested, here is a list of countries with whom America has been at war, since 1945. You'll notice, they are all big, heavily armed, industrial, militarised countries!

China (1945-46 & 1950-53)
Korea (1950-53)
Guatemala (1954 & 1960)
Indonesia (1958)
Cuba (1959-60)
Congo (1964)
Peru (1965)
Laos (1964-73)
Vietnam (1961-73)
Cambodia (1969-70)
Guatemala (1967-69)
Grenada (1983)
Libya (1986)
El Salvador & Nicaragua (all of the 1980s)
Panama (1989)
Iraq (1991-2002)
Sudan (1998)
Afghanistan (1998)
Yugoslavia (1999)
Afghanistan (2001-02)
Iraq (2002 -)

Hmm...is it just me, or does that kind of look like a near perpetual state of war? Anyone heard of the military industrial complex? Believe me, I know our Government does it too, but just because a war is sold to us on the basis of a 'sexed up dossier' of spin and lies, or 'we gotta go hunt the guy with the funny name who used to be employed by us', does not mean, that just because we are Catholics, those of good faith, that we should give the Government our blessing. God knows we should pray for our troops, like the brave men that they are! But those who sent them there, oh my, if I ever make it to Heaven, I'll happily take a break to watch them...

I remember going to one of the first Masses I ever went to at a Church in Brighton and being graced with the words of a Priest, who, during his homily, said, "We pray for our leaders and Governments. May they understand that evil is never justified, no matter how good the desired outcome", or something along the same lines. An unjust war is just like abortion. You lash out, for you were unprepared! You weren't ready and it wasn't planned! And just because you've been hurt, you kill the innocent. They took 3,000 of your men, so you take 100,000 of theirs! Then, you're surprised when go they hide in the mountains and come back when you're not suspecting! God help us! Some Americans think the Devil is in Afghanistan. I assure you, that if anyone has access to the corridors of power in the US, the White House and 10 Downing Street, it is the Devil. He isn't just operating in Muslim strongholds, after all!

Looks like our current PM is about to go before the jury which will not convict him of signing the cheques for Iraq. He was totally blameless, of course. After all...he is the Prime Minister of Great Britain! Tony was the bad guy, remember that. We do, at least, remember that!