Provincial Letters

Far from the mad crowds of the city, Blaise Pascal passed comment on the strange behaviour of this urban contemporaries in his Provincial Letters. The connection between them and this blog is somewhat tenuous.

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Location: Grimsby, N E Lincolnshire, United Kingdom

My star sign in Superstition. And I didn't believe in reincarnation last time, either. The only thing I can't tolerate is intolerance. I am a fanatical ant-fanaticist. I am bigotted only where bigots are concerned. I am a fundamentalist atheist. I'm proud to be a product of evolution; I know it in my genes.

Friday, July 08, 2005

Posted @ 10:50Untitled

Last Saturday, Tina and I sat in front of the TV with several bottles of wine and enjoyed the spectacle, emotion, music and hope of the Live 8 concert in Hyde Park. On Sunday, we and others were welcomed into the heart of the small village of Thoresway in the Lincolnshire Wolds (see photograph) to join their village fête by providing music. On Wednesday, we all thrilled to the announcement that London was to host the 2012 Olympic Games. On Thursday…

From a personal perspective I received a lunchtime phone call from my mother to let me know that my brother Martin, his partner Tracy and their son George — who live not far from Liverpool St Station — were all fine, as was my brother-in-law, Jean-Marie, who was working in London this week. Some small mercy.

I am numb and full of inappropriate words.

London is a vibrant, exciting city (which, every now and again, needs mocking when it takes itself too seriously) full of people of many colours, creeds, faiths, ages and opinions. By-and-large they all get along very well. Like any family they have their ups and downs, their tiffs and disagreements. But they get by and keep growing. The ordinary people of London do not fight wars or decide to fight wars: they are not to be treated as the sacrificial victims to honour any deity or cause. Any god which rewards such barbarity is a mad god. Any manifesto which justifies such callousness is a manifesto of the insane.

In memory of the dead
In sympathy for the bereaved
In compassion for the bent and broken, the scarred and scared
Take one small step each day
To make the world a better place