SECULAR VALUES - Where The Values Are

If we are not clear about what our ethics are, then we are also unclear what values* lie behind them, those you believe and instinctively uphold through your life. In these days when cynicism or apathy are our guiding stars - in what do we now put our faith?

The poet and thinker David Whyte believes there is a central dichotomy in modern society between two values, to be an independent individual and to belong. We want a sense of belonging to society, to families, to religions, to political or social groups. But find ourselves rebelling against any perceived restrictions, oppression, compromises and curtailing of individual liberty that belonging to any group may ask of us. Liberty and belonging are seen as in fundamental and oppositional loggerheads.

These days we lean towards individualism above collective loyalties, and tend to downplay the need for the latter. Once upon a time it was the reverse, that we valued the collective loyalties way above individual self expression to the point of actively suppressing the latter. Neither position seems to embody an entirely healthy or flexible attitude.

So, having turned partly away from devotedly adhering to our role as a dutiful civilian, we've turned them into a issue of personal choice. They are considered optional extras, or at least conditional ones, dependent upon whether they fulfill personal advantage or match our desires. The nobler task of committing oneself to higher ideals and values, ones that take us beyond solely feeding our personal benefit and gratification, are often being slandered as fruitless self denial. Individual liberty has been reinterpreted as the be all and end all of life in the pursuit of happiness.

If our society does require remedial work to restore the central strength of its ' common values and ethics' , what are they now? What is there left of our 'common values and ethics'? Can they be rebuilt or reformed?  Would we uphold them? Do we even recognise ourselves as having collective values? For values to be followed, we have to identify with them, aspire too them, on a personal, even instinctual, level. Once owned, values are not passive possessions, they need to be worn.

In the pursuit of values there is a fundamental question - What is good? And once having identified what is good, its followed by - how do I encourage what is good in myself and in others,? Religious teachers through out history, whatever their denomination, have essentially been asking that questions of us - What is good, and how do we encourage that in individuals and society at large? 

That there is a degree of ethical congruity across faiths indicates these values are broadly held in common across most human cultures, whether East or West. They are not just the sole preserve of one particular religion to define, uphold and impose. They are reflecting human values and basic needs for - liberty, loyalty, respect, tolerance, kindness, appreciation, the sanctity of life, etc.

There will always be people who will refuse to adhere to values for the common good, just because you can in a free society. Its what the law is for, to provide an ethical backstop for when people over step the mark. In general, I'd like to believe most people want to do good. Though we may often be mislead in the moment, by the strength our emotions, by the misjudgments we make and by pressures from aspects of society to act in a particular way, which may or may not be to the good. 

Values stimulate an ethical impulse in us to act, or not to act on them, to pursue them or abjure. But we do need to recognise we have them, that they're ingrained into the geology of our behaviour. The psychologist and philosopher Ian McGilchrist believes they emanate as a quality from the universe. All phenomena has intrinsic value, its not conferred upon phenomena by us.

Though the phrasing and emphasis might differ, religious ethics provide a context within which common themes of - what it is to do good - can be adopted. There can, however, be subtle differences in their purpose over - what is the doing good for? Lets look at a few examples around violence and killing. Its the primary precept in Buddhist ethics. This has both a negative and a positive version, what to discourage and what to encourage. It says:-

I undertake to abstain from taking life
With deeds of loving kindness, I purify my body.

In the Ten Commandments it says - Thou shall not kill, which is blunt and to the point. It doesn't sound very nuanced, but in actual practice it would have to be. Because the context within which something takes place is important; killing in war; killing under extreme duress; killing by accident; killing as a lesser but necessary form of good. Causes and volitions nuance the level of approbation, for where allowances would be made.

Buddhism asks you to consider ethics in relation to your thoughts, words and deeds. So its not just about bodily killing, its about the violence we do within our minds to ourselves and others, and what we say about ourselves and others. To work on transforming these into a loving and kinder response. Violence and anger do mutual damage to victim and perpetrator. So for Buddhism the purpose in our doing good, extends beyond a divine prohibition to not do anything bad. It is to purify and change ourselves so thoroughly that in a small incremental way we alter, not just our experience of reality, but reality itself. 

In Christianity it values not killing in order to prevent the suffering and hurt of another. Buddhism values 'abstaining from taking life' in order to prevent the suffering and hurt of both victim and perpetrator'. For in both, the not doing of something throws up huge challenges on an emotional and mental level. Not killing someone, no matter how murderous you are feeling, requires you to stop where you are, to adjust your perception, mind or feelings, and step away from wielding that axe. 

Hatred is a perception filter, a habit of an angry mind and stirred up emotion. So you have to tackle hatred on many levels. The Buddhist precepts provide a tool to cultivate 'loving kindness' towards yourself and the state you are in, and towards the person to whom you have ill feeling. It is not.necessarily, an easy or quick thing to turn around. So patience needs cultivating.

In both religions human life has intrinsic value, it is either God given and sacred, or a precious opportunity arising from fortunate circumstances that created your life, so it is wrong to rob anyone of it. All human and sentient life is inter-connected. Our inter-connectedness is a belief that has foundational importance in Buddhism. Though Christianity may not make interconnectedness that explicit, it is a quality arising from everything being of God's creation. We are doing good, but behind it lies a larger sacred purpose.

What is valued tends to be founded upon such underlying beliefs. Not taking life is a value, but we do so, because - we are all interconnected spiritually - are all Gods creations - all human life is sacred. These are foundational beliefs. For example - all life being interconnected underpins why not causing harm to others is deemed so vital. This is also a responsibility we hold not just individually, but collectively.

But there have been times when cultures don't value that interconnection. In many early ancient cultures where humankind was more stratified, prejudicial distinctions were made between the capabilities of men and women. Likewise different classes, slaves or races. It was considered of lesser consequence to kill a slave, because they"d already been bought and sold, and by virtue of being commodified were robbed of their humanity anyway. 

A similar thing happened to Jews, homosexuals, gypsies and people with mental problems. under the Nazis regime. Where it became OK to kill someone because they were considered dehumanised, subhuman, inferior or defective. This view is dependent upon holding a belief in your own superiority or that of your country, cast, race or gender. Then your values will emphasise your separateness and your inherent, even God given, sense of being superior. This meant even killing might be considered important for the greater good of mankind. Its not something I'd sign up for. But it demonstrates how the sort of values you hold can produce a different sense of what is right ethically, of what is to be considered good.  

The consequences of the first precept or commandment 'to not take life' roll out from them like a constantly evolving ethical river. Causing us to examine other forms of violence, through what we do, through what we say, through what we think, even through to what we eat. Murder is one hate filled action, it can take many forms, particularly in how we speak to ourselves and to others. If we hate ourselves then this tends to seep out in how we respond to the people we encounter in daily life. 

Values state an ideal, out of which emerges an ethical principle, but that ethical principle has to be acted upon if it is to have any value at all. Nothing theoretical has meaning or validity until its put to the test. We all hold a fundamental belief that these values, if they are put into action, would make the world a better place to live in, not just for yourself, but everyone.

That beliefs, values and ethics have previously been the sole preserve of religions, could make all this triumvirate of elements problematic. Because we want to see ourselves as moving beyond organised 'superstitious' religions. A secular form of ethics, however, cannot evolve out of nothing. Dissociating them from where they emerged first, doesn't necessarily help. 

Christianity's purpose has often been to act as societies conscience, the focus for social reform and ethical progress. We have to acknowledge, however begrudgingly, that we inherited a legacy from Christian ideals and ethics. Even though practicing Christians have not always been the best exemplars of them, for better or for worse.

If not our religious or political leaders, who else today will uphold our inheritance of these 'common values and ethics'? Who today has the authority to provide moral leadership?  Maybe it should not be down to one person or institution, not a top down dissemination, but an up-swelling from a grass roots desire for renewal.

* Values - underlying ideals, qualities and feelings we have given emotional investment to. Often referred to as core values, these feed into our ethics and the sort of society we aspire to have. Not, however to be confused with monetary values.

To follow

SECULAR BELIEFS - Its Certainty Or Bust

ART 'n' Ab ART - Look Out - Ruth Butler Exhibition

Exhibitions don't always immediately grab you. Sometimes you do have to give paintings or artworks sufficient time to speak to you, to tune into them. Impatience or a desire to get the gist and quickly move on, undermine one's receptivity and hence the depth of appreciation suffers. Its not always an easy thing to obtain a true grasp of where an artist is coming from. Length of time is important.

Ruth Butler's paintings do communicate themselves with a great and alluring immediacy, I felt I had an instinctive sense of them, almost as a living process taking place before your eyes. There on the canvas was a painting evolvong in a way that was as instinctive and in the moment as anyone can make it. She has had to give this time to mature, as does the viewer.

Her paintings are both loose yet controlled, geometric yet organic, solid yet fluid. Instinctual improvising takes time, and more importantly, a patient sensitivity. In order to uncover where a work is at, to tell where it needs to go next. Some paintings obviously begin with hand drawn patterning, but several layers later end up with a soft semi transparency and calligraphic natural references. Others appear to take exactly the opposite path, moving towards slabs of colour bestrided by erratic lines.

Using a broad range of mark making, and an alive vibrant colour sense. Her paintings in the end create a mood that I personally found exciting to visually engage with. The most obvious art historical reference points stylistically are Paul Klee, but the overall assault of pattern and form had strong associations for me is with that most outsider of artists, Friendesreich Hundertwasser.

Her instinctual layering approach I recognise in my own art process, but I've never quite had the courage, so far. to fully break out of a meticulously controlled execution mindset. However frustrating the devotion of time and discipline to that becomes. This exhibition has encouraged me to drop my long use of gouache paint, a medium so suited to flat colour that it almost insists on tight form and execution. I'm taking up exploring the qualities and possibilities of acrylics. Watch this space.

FEATURE - 'The Truth' Monologue

This monologue from The Life & Death of Colonel Blimp from 1943, contains so much pain and pathos within it.  Delivered with such simple yet effective power by Anton Walbrook, a brilliant actor, so often shamefully overlooked.  It gives voice, not just to a refugees plight, but their viewpoint on what its like to be a refugee in a country that can't quite accept that your reason for being here is genuine and not duplicitous. It speaks quite powerfully over seventy years later to those contemporary sour minds and ungenerous hearts, who wouldn't recognise empathy even if it slapped them across their increasingly smug faces.

 

FILM CLUB - The Life & Death of Colonel Blimp

Powell & Pressburger Season - 1943 

On the surface the character Colonel Clive Candy is derived from David Low's cartoon strip from 1934, lampooning the British establishments blindness to the threat of Hitler. However, Colonel Blimp for Powell & Pressburger was more an extension of an old soldier who'd appeared in an earlier film - One of our Aircraft is Missing - who constantly refers back with nostalgia to the old way of fighting a war. Underneath the satire Powell and Pressburger humanise the situational mind set, even though its wit is bent on being more pokey and subversive.

Churchill was appalled they were even considering releasing The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp in the aftermath of an ignominious withdrawl from Europe, and a stalled plan a year away from the D Day landings, He tried to put a stop to it, but Arthur Rank insisted and the film became popular, because it did obtain such a wide distribution in the UK. 

It was severely re-edited for the US, essentially turning it into a linear narrative, by removing all the flashbacks and echoes to the past. It was not until the 1980's restoration that its full length and original editing was restored, along with digitising its deteriorating technicolour format.

Maybe for Churchill the character of Colonel Blimp did follow an uncomfortably similar parallel to his own self mythologised backstory. The central character Colonel Clive Candy's  ( Roger Livesey ) experience  of war, spans from the end of the Boar War, through the First World War, and ends with a Home Guard exercise during what was then still an ongoing war with Nazi Germany. Candy is a life long soldier, who has done nothing else but serve his country through the military. Though initially a bit of a rogue maverick, he settles into a life of dull respectability and conformity to a set viewpoint of war and his role in it. 

The film has multiple narrative strands running through it. At the beginning it shows us a British military that believes you fight a war fairly and is always appalled when other countries don't play fair too. They're always playing catch up. Blimp is the archetype of this particular mindset, often lauding that, though the German's played dirty, in the end we won. This viewpoint is slyly being satirised, but not without some affection too.

Because the Germans are spreading 'untrue' stories about there being British atrocities in South Africa ( some of these were actually true! )  He ends up going to Berlin and fighting a duel with Theo Kretschmar Schuldorff, ( Anton Walbrook ) over it. In the process he becomes Candy's life long friend. The changing nature of that friendship is a major thread throughout the movie. 

Theo, because he has to bare with the humiliation of his country being beaten in war, later accuses the British, that though they won the First World War they failed to learn anything from it. The most touching moments in this film are when Theo, once again, tells his old friend Candy exactly how things really are. That you can't ever expect the Nazi's to act according to the traditional playbook. He's had to leave Nazi Germany, having already lost his own children to a pernicious ideology. This time its not just a fight for territory but for the hearts and minds of Western democratic civilisation.

Another strand is unrequited love. Until Theo announces he is going to marry Edith Hunter ( Deborah Kerr ), Candy does not realise how much he was in love with her too. He goes out with her sister and other look a likes, eventually marrying one - Barbara, and in later scenes chooses a female driver Angela who looks like her too. All of them are played by Deborah Kerr. Its as though, even in love, he can't move on either. Edith has become this angelic ideal.

Both Livesey and Walbrook worked frequently with Powell and Pressburger and both give performances here that show them at the very top of their game. Walbrook in particular is so quietly mesmeric to watch, beautiful subtle acting, facial expressions, suggestive gestures, all telling of a man who has been broken and reforged himself, but not without some personal cost. 'The Truth' monologue in his immigration interview to be accepted as a refugee, is so heartbreaking. Starting as a wider angled shot of the whole room, it zooms in slowly on Walbrook's face, very closely monitoring its every suggestive flicker, and then when he's finished speaking zooms out to take to the same whole room stunned into silence. To have that happening all around you and hold your acting nerve is quite some feat. 

The character of Candy,  has much more broader cartoon like origins, and hence is a much harder part to play. Livesey manages to bring a touching humanity to the old bluffer over its three periods, and ages well. Candy is a well meaning kind person, a lot of fun to be around, even though he has these huge blind spots. Its only through his friendship with Theo, that he manages to grow any wiser. 

Though female characters in British movies of this period, can sometimes be a bit of a thankless role, here Deborah Kerr, brings immense skill and delineation to all her three characters, all of theme are feisty and assertive, though in entirely different ways.

I first saw this film in an art cinema during in the 1980's revival of interest in Powell & Pressburger.  You could say the whole idea of doing this series on The Archer's output, rests on my enduring enthusiasm for this one film. In this process I have discovered many other undiscovered beauties. I remember being completely blown away by Colonel Blimp at the time. It resonated with the tense contemporary atmosphere in the 80's surrounding The Falklands War, as the Churchill myth was being rolled out once again. 

Watching it again it is hard to fully take in all the various interweaving themes that it encompasses, certainly not in one viewing. In a career full of spectacular highlights, The Life & Death of Colonel Blimp is up there with the very best of Powell & Pressburger.

CARROT REVIEW - 8/8

CHURCH LARKING - Beeston Regis Parish Church

One of the joys to be had from 'church larking' is encountering the unexpected. Quite often an unpreposessing dull exterior can, as you lift the latch on the porch entrance door, reveal an interior full of character and unusual architectural flourishes. I usually arrive with standard questions in mind - when was this built and over what period? How has it come to be the way it is? Someone once described buildings as vertical archaeology. And its true that through analysis of minor visual elements you build up a rough historical timeline, of what led to what.

A question that crosses my mind every time I pass by Beeston Regis Parish Church is  - why is it so far from anywhere? The main village green and pond is actually half a mile away adjacent to the ruins of Beeston Priory. The distinctly medieval church is nearer to the most recently built part of Beeston, nudging onto the edges of West Runton. It's position stuck out on the edge of the sea cliff, sea erosion aside, is a bit of a mystery. One that I've yet to solve.

The Church from the Priory

It is a beautifully compact and well proportioned church, with internally quite a few unique details. Externally, you can see it has been largely remodeled in the 15th century. As is often the case the tower, though heavily renovated in 1951, is the oldest surviving part of the church. Probably 11th-12th century, its not round, so its an exception for this period in East Anglia.

The clerestory is a 14th century insertion, which as ever has required the remodeling of the roof. It has quite neat and even flushed flint work, so it looks newer, as does the crenelation of the top of the tower. The crispness of these is perhaps a sign of its many restorations since the 19th century.

But thankfully the interior has not suffered too detrimentally from well meaning restorers. The roof remains the original 15th century one. Not all the decorative corbels are of that date. The oldest have symbols of the Passion, the more recent emblems of saints. 

What instantly catches your eye is the rood screen. Which despite Reformation zeal has survived, minus its rood obviously, yet without vandalism to its medieval panels of saints. As the church is dedicated to All Saints, and they are all representations of biblical disciples, maybe this was deemed appropriate. Either that, or the rood was removed and hidden during the Commonwealth Republic. Nonetheless. it is a joy to find it still in situ. Not all of the screen is the original woodwork, it's upper part has been very sensitively restored. Reproducing the workmanship one might expect of a medieval woodworker, its quite a feat.

There are two characterful plinth heads either side of this rood screen. They appear to indicate they once supported something. Whether this was anything to do with the rood screen is hard to fathom.

Another features of note, are the two niches set in the side and adjacent wall of a window in the south aisle. I've not seen their like before. These may have once contained figures of the Virgin, or a figure adopted by a local medieval guild, who could have maintained a shrine in this corner of the church.

Another detail really worthy of doting over is the piscina and sedilia. It is utterly beautiful with a Perpendicular window set behind it. This window was once blocked off, but someone in more recent times had the brilliant idea to reopen it. So now the sunlight can beam through it and illumine its gorgeous stone tracery. It is thought this feature may have been brought here from the ruins of Beeston Priory, and that does seem right. There is something about it that is of an entirely different league of design to humble old Beeston.

Clear Glass Window with niches

It's a characteristic of Norfolk coastal churches to make the most of the low horizons, abundant sky and sunlight. It's rare to find more than a few fully stained glass windows. Most nave windows, as here, being clear glass or occasionally patterned Victorian insertions. As none has survived in Beeston we cannot know whether there was any original medieval stained glass. It maybe stained glass was too expensive and beyond the ability of a rural medieval church to afford. Only when glass manufacturing methods improved in the 19th century did it become feasible.

ART 'n' Ab ART - Post Petrochemical Practices Exhibition

Cromer Artspace continues through the summer and into the autumn, to bring an interesting mix of exhibitions. Some are solo artist shows, others are a group of artists gathered around a theme, creative focus or medium.

An interesting example of the latter was this exhibition called Post Petrochemical Practices. Though it sounds like some multi-national manufacturing initiative, it is a portmanteau exhibition that showcases a range of approaches to art making that avoids the use of materials derived specifically from petrochemicals.

What we have presented here are ecologically more sound, less polluting or invasive methods of expression. All the four artists in this exhibition use natural sourced mediums or effects.

Yelena Popova sources soil from radioactive areas and paints these into carefully controlled swirls of tone. 

Geoff Litherland makes use of the effects of mould and light to create in work on plaster.

Liz Mc Gowan uses found objects like shells and moss to create circles of texture. 

Sam Hodge uses an unfolded piece of packaging as printing templates utilising pigments made from soils, then layering them

The inventive diversity of approaches is what I found most interesting in this exhibition. Much of the work shown here owes a debt in form or medium to the late 20th century land artists, with elements of Cornelia Parker and abstract minimalism. 

Its probably something built into the nature of the mediums they choose to work in, that the effect of these works is quite subtle and often mimics effects you find in nature itself. Nothing in it did I find astounding or got my creative juices going, but it was a stimulating show that challenged ones preconceptions and assumptions about what you can create art from.

SECULAR ETHICS - Look at the State of It

The division of society into secular and religious, has a long history, and the separation has cultivated inconsistencies in the practices of both aspects. Secular life forms the ground for ethical practice ( spiritual or otherwise ) and ethical practice inevitably has its impact upon the secular functioning of society (spiritual or otherwise). But what is secular* ethics**?

The historian Tom Holland has suggested that 'the secular' as an idea originates from Christianity itself, created to demarcate the boundary between what was a priestly or a kingly domain of influence. Many democratic constitutions still erect such a boundary, at least in principle, in the hope of keeping religious and secular concerns fenced off.  And these still operate, in the US for example, as an excedingly leaky religious exclusion zone. The separation is an ideological one, and in everyday life and practice it does not really exist.

In the UK we live in a society that sees itself as predominantly secular. Religions exists as a choice, a private affair. Despite having an established church with a monarch who is the figurehead for both state and church. This is a formal symbolic deception. As the country at large operates outside any collectively held religious framework. Whenever an Archbishop pipes up about an unethical aspect of government policy, they are sternly told not to interfere in politics, to just hop back over the other side of the moral fence will you.

After millennia of top down religious impositions of godly power and disapproval. From the Reformation onward religious devotion, and ethical practice with it, has become more and more a private individuals concern. Though there has always been an understanding that society in general still held shared 'common values and ethics' that are Christianity Lite.  

Increased secularisation and individualism has left us with a Christian infused, but 'relative' form of values out of which some form of rough cut secular ethics flows. People now speak their 'truth', however contradictory that maybe to the facts of the matter or their ethical probity. Governments no longer uphold 'common values' nor hold themselves to a higher standard of ethics. Its all about what you can get away with, free of consequence. They say black is white, and say the exact opposite an hour later. Its all relative to place and who you are speaking to. To point out this ethical duplicity is mere nitpicking.

And into this secular ethical black hole has come a trenchant surge of secular puritanism, from both the left and the right, attempting to command the moral high ground, from where they can point the finger of shame. Social media is full to the brim with it.

I find myself dwelling on a question in the middle of this puritan rinse cycle -  is it actually possible to have 'common values and ethics' that are purely secular?  Isn't a prior historical religious context always lurking unacknowledged in the background? Ethics arise from values and values arise from core beliefs about human behaviour and metaphysics. Where else would the values for a secular ethics emerge from? Is simply to vaguely secularise our pre-existing Christian based values going to do? Because that appears to be what we are attempting. 

I started reflecting on this for three reasons. First, Five years ago I left a Buddhist Order. Since then I have remained Buddhist in essence with exploratory forays into the Christianity that in a sense had preceded it. My ethics have remained largely unchanged, still guided by the Ten Precepts that excited me early on in my spiritual life as a Buddhist. At the time I first heard them, they spoke deeply to my own innate ethical sense of the values I wanted my life to be guided and motivated by. Prior to that I'd had no conscious template, other than the Christian one I was brought up with, to frame that innate ethical sense within.

Why did I not feel the same about the ten commandments? Well they were commandments, from God, which were two large and problematic concepts for me. And I am not alone in finding them a troublesome obstacle. When we have values within such a context, we find ourselves framing our ethical views within a language of prohibitions. God's commandments are there to prevent us doing things, things we may still want to do, even though they are bad for us individually or for society. Commandments place hard boundaries to contain the worse instincts of our human nature, and assert compliance by anointing them with divine authority. That is one way to create 'common values and ethics' I guess.

The Ten Buddhist Precepts are couched in terms of being principles that you practice. There is no God punishing you to get you to practice them. When you inevitable fall short of them, the sense of shame you have arises from letting your better self down, that is seen as sufficient in itself. You move on, rededicate yourself to your continued,if faltering, practice. Buddhist ethical practice is always in the process of not quite becoming perfect. One's ethical sensitivity, at best, is constantly evolving and deepening over time. 

The second reason, was reading Tom Holland's book Dominion, in which he lays out a convincing case for Western Civilisation being entirely constructed on the revolutionary impact of values, ideals and ethics from Christianity. However secular we may try to be ethically, these remain fundamental underpinnings for how our society functions. They have their authority for existing, through there Christian origin and mindset, that they came from God. This raised the idea in my mind whether any ideal or ethical sense, cut off from the religious ethos that spawned them - well can that really work?

Third, I recalled a phrase from the late Buddhist teacher Sangharakshita, who being quite pragmatic, said that 'It was better to have a Christian sense of ethics, than no ethics at all'.  It's was a warning to Buddhists not be too partisan in their attitude to another religions ethical practice. Ethics from within a religious context, he considered were better than doing without. 

Though we all may have an individual ethical code, should that really be one we pick n mix to suit ourselves? There is a rigor in applying ourselves to an external code of ethics with a collective ethos behind it. This supports and brings confidence to the practitioner that they are applying themselves to doing the right thing. Is it important that an external spiritual framework exists behind any individual ethical practice, in order for it to be most effective? 

Can we trust ourselves not to be ethically self serving? There's always a public and a private face to our ethical practice. Ideally they ought to be the same, but they frequently are not. The tendency being to let ourselves off our ethical practice when we think we are not being seen. The 'ethics of the private moment' as the teacher Subhuti once called it. Its what feeds most scandals and moral outrages. People forget that social media is not a private moment, but a public one, and fall fowl of it being exposed.

When an apparently popular, even saintly, figure is revealed to have reprehensibly soiled feet. They may have performed a sin in private, and now its distasteful moral underbelly is there for all to see. We cannot bare the sight of other more famous people's moral flaws  inconsistencies and imperfections. This says a lot about how prudish we feel about our own. But also highlights how much our desire for moral exemplars still exists. But is our bar, in our secular age, always being set too high?

There is a sense still of there being a residual 'common values and ethics' but paradoxically, not ones entirely universally held. Nature, as they say, abhors a vacuum. So what we currently appear to have is the 21st century version of a witch trial, where social media platforms act as moral arbiters, like a modern, perhaps more rabid, version of the Inquisition. Virtually stoning, torturing and disemboweling the object of their opprobrium. It has all the ethical sensitivity and rectitude of a comic book superhero. There is little wisdom or compassion here. Just ethical cleansing.

Where do we go from here?

*   Secular - a part of society without overt religious affiliation. 

** Ethics - rules, codes of behaviour, ethos or principles by which one could live ones life.

To follow .

SECULAR VALUES - Where The Values Are

THE BEST BEFORE DATE - 1981 & 1983 - Homosapian & Telephone Operator by Pete Shelley

With the disbanding of The Buzzcocks Pete Shelley struck off in an entirely new direction. His first single as a solo artist was Homosapian. Largely electronic, which was still thought radical even in 1981, his approach also became more personal. 

Homosapian strongly made the case for love being the same whether it was within a heterosexual or homosexual relationship. Shelley was bi-sexual. and was taking a brave step in being so publicly frank about his feelings in song. This was pioneering at the time. Predating Bronski Beat by three years, in releasing a campaigning song defending queer love and relationships.

And it is a danceable addictive song too. One of Shelley's best, delivered with huge passion and gusto. Despite all this it never reached the UK Chart. The BBC reputedly discouraged it being played, without actually banning it, because of an allusion to gay sex in its lyric. But it did chart in the US, Canada and Australia, and became a huge dancefloor filler in nightclubs, gay and otherwise, across the world.

Two years on, and the single Telephone Operator, is another electronic driven love song. This time its a guy who thinks he's in love with a telephone operator. So he phones them over and over again. It's a really offkilter song, with overtones of stalking to modern ears. But that was very much Shelley's compositional style to place love in an less sympathetic, even discomforting context. It also contains one of Shelley's finest vocal perfomances.

Telephone Operator didn't chart either, only reaching No 66. Though often gaining critical praise for his recorded work, this was not transfering into sufficient sales to sustain a solo career. There was in his appearance, that constant staring directly into camera, there was always something sneery and provoking about it. Shelley, though small in stature, was not remotely cuddly, and would never have been, nor would have wanted to be, the archetypal pop star. At the end of the eighties The Buzzcocks reformed, but this was strictly for fans only. Further commercial success continued to evade them.

THE BEST BEFORE DATE - 1978 - The Light Pours Out of Me by Magazine

Meanwhile, post leaving the Buzzcocks, in an entirely other realm of 1978. Howard Devoto, having had the briefest sojourn away from the limelight, reveals the first fruits of his distinctly peculiar vision.

Magazine, formed in 1977 were one of the first bands whom you might call Post Punk. There was the sense that Devoto just wasn't going to wait for the punk bubble to burst as it inevitably would, he'd puncture it first himself. Releasing Shot by Both Sides in January of 1978 which reached 41 in the charts. Perhaps encapsulating in song the furore that greeted his leaving the Buzzcocks.

There was always a feeling that Magazine were really the then unfashionable thing - an albums band. So it was not til the LP Real Life that you got a fuller more rounded sense of what they were really about. This album contained a cache of songs that Devoto had originally written with Pete Shelley before he'd even left the Buzzcocks.

The stand out track is The Light Pours Out Of Me. It has the most recognisible and instantly captivating openings of any song. The pounding opening drum, the rumbling thrum of its bass and the magisterial guitar that proudly rings out the architecture of its riff. As though declaring the entrance of some beast, emporer, or nascent thing of importance. Its also as moody as hell. There's the expectant build up, then enters the hammy theatricality of Devoto's proto goth vocal intonations. Bleakly menacing as though the living dead were given voice - Time flies, Time Crawls, Like an insect, Up and down the walls - The light pours out of me. 

As with many Devoto songs there's an existential dilemma being worked out through imagery in song form. The tune is addictive listening, but it's lyrical opacity is so deliberate. Evocative but not allowing you to perceive its true meaning - Is this person deluded, a danger? Who on earth do they think they are? Some sort of Magus, a demon, a godlike figure? What drug are they being consumed by?

Devoto's visual style of performance possesses no charm, a nerdy creep, rather than creepy.. He was fortunate to have assembled behind him a band of hugely talented musicians, containing the inestimable Barry Adamson and John McGeogh within it. The Light Pours Out of Me has just one of McGeogh's guitar riffs and its a classy corker. It's not for nothing he is rated by his contemporaries as The Guitarist of his generation. But his contribution to Magazine was not to last long. McGeogh left in 1980 to ornament the golden years of Siouxsie & the Banshees, and Magazine entirely folded the following year.

CHURCH LARKING - Cley Next The Sea Parish Church

What strikes you about St Margaret's in Cley Next the Sea, is how unlike any other parish church along the North Norfolk coast it is. Beautifully and richly ornamented architecturally, this sort of work does not come cheap. They had royal and noble patronage, but why here, in what is now a small village?

It's hard to imagine Cley as a major English port, that had a close trading relationship with the German Hanseatic League. Norfolk in medieval times was one of the wealthiest areas of England, due to the economic dominance of East Anglian wool and weaving. Cley exploited access to this market.

The quality, size and age of the many substantial buildings in Cley. betrays this rich trading history. The era when numerous large boats would be in the harbour, plus a thriving port area just at the bottom of the current churchyard.

The main channel allowing access to the port, did over the centuries begin to silt up. This forced the ports harbour to move nearer to the sea where the channel remained broader. That silting up process was further accelerated by a local landowner embanking and enclosing surrounding land. There was also a major fire in 1612 that destroyed much of the original medieval port buildings.This is why we now find St Margaret's at the far end of a small village, with little building surrounding it to indicate its former centrality to a port.

So this is where the money came from to fund the expansion and decoration of its central religious building. Take a close look at its highly decorated porch, and the clerestory with its alternating gothic pointed and quintrefoil circular windows. These are much larger than is usual with beautifully executed ornate tracery. The church originally had two elegant side transepts that have since fallen into ruin. Probably this ruination parralleled the decline of Cley. With no money available to execute repairs. It was at one time more widespread, but there has been extensive restoration work in the late 19th century.

The church tower was originally quite squat. Its current place is to one side of the current nave. So most likely there was an earlier narrower church preceding its expansion in the 14th-15th century to the current size and style. There are filled in romanesque shaped apertures on two sides of the tower. This suggests the age of that earlier church is most likely to have been 12th Century.

The large clear glass perpendicular style windows with coloured borders, look very like Victorian replacements. As is the current Chancel, apart from a piscina and sedilia that are likely medieval. The height and light of the nave is elegant and spacious. Before the Reformation figures of saints would have adorned the ornate canopied plinths above each pillar. There are two remaining blocked up doorways to the left of the Chancel arch, that used to lead to the gallery of a medieval rood loft.

Cley is then a deceptive church. From the outside it appears relatively small in length. Only when you enter do you experience how broad and high it actually is. The glory of what it must have looked liked at its height in the 15th century, still suggested by what remains.

SHERINGHAM DIARY No 89 - A Prevalence of Double Crutches

In life, you know when you are on a roll. Things go smoothly in a positive upwards direction. Equally, there are times when you know the portents are agin yah. And likewise, you just have to roll with the painful consequences of these. It's an Ouch, but, hopefully an instructive Ouch. Such was the Farmers & Makers Market at Fakenham Race Course 

If one read and noticed them, the augeries were all there. E.mails stating a spaced out arrival schedule for stall holder's - they don't get to everyone. The lack of any advance publicity or even basic roadside signage. So when we arrived and joined a long arthritically slow moving queue of cars and trailers, this did not bode well. We arrive at 8am, didn't get on site til gone 9am. They needed food stalls to go in first, but many were arriving late, spaced out amongst this ever lengthening queue. Tempers became fraught. Fourteen year old stewards were sworn and berated at.

By the time we were stressfully setting up our stall, the punters were arriving. The morning up to lunchtime was only 'showing promise' sales wise. But after lunch everything went incredibly quiet and continued as though a plague had suddenly hit, until at 3pm we could start packing up. 

Markets are long days, with a lot of advance preparation involved. The outlay of time, sheer effort and fee, is not insignificant. So for it not to be financially worth it, well that's more than a little disheartening. After two dud craft shows in a row, we are reviewing, yet again, what our criteria for choosing markets are. 

We know what we have to offer is good. But finding where our customers are, is not proving easy. Nowhere near Fakenham apparently. We need to be nearer to catchment areas that more likely to have surplus income. 

What was the most notable thing about the folk who attended the Farmers Market? The incredible and widespread obesity, male or female, young or old, whole families of them shaped like Russian dolls. Women in particular, who were so morbidly obese they had double crutches or zimmer frames that could barely support their weighed down frames, curved spines, hunched torso. All with such tangibly painful movement and restricted agility. 

It was actually quite shocking to see the level of it's prevalence at this Market. I don't think I'd be exaggerating if I were to say 20% obese. When we hear about the coming obesity crisis, this is what they are talking about. It has, apparently, already arrived in Fakenham.

What we saw in Fakenham was primarily local folk turning out for a Market, to buy a pie or two. and a craft beer for later. Then going home. With the complete lack of meaningful publicity no one from further a field had any knowledge it was even on. Relocating the market from The Raynham Hall Estate to Fakenham changed not just the atmosphere but the clientèle it attracted quite radically. 

MY OWN WALKING - Puts You There Where Things Are Hollow.

It is educational to note, that as one grows older so do the heroes of your youth. In my case those I lionised were mostly musicians. And whilst Bolan and now Bowie are dead, many are still around and, most shocking of all, still touring. Milking their youthful career highlights to augment their pension pots, their urgent need for rehab, or to raise the down payment on a place in a retirement community.

There is something to be lauded, in being easy going and relaxed about one's own aging process. How one's former heroes cope with it is of genuine interest, as they are often older than you. Which makes observing the existential travails of our heroes, once so godlike, now reduced to the mortal frailty they always possesed - at least instructive. And so we find the surviving spectre of our idols, now looking more like they ought to be our accountant or vicar. Or worse, resemble a nefarious Uncle who everyone warned you was a bit pervy, so steered clear. Others bare the beaten looking visage of boxers, except the pugilism has mostly arisen from being subject to bruising encounters with alcohol or drugs. 

Few are charmed with musical career longevity. The ocassional duff album you might be forgiven, but two in a row might prove terminal. Wither the one hit wonder much lauded for a month or so, failing to follow through on their limited appeal and potential. A three minute monster single, followed by decades of genteel obscurity subsisting in the Cotswolds. 

Even those whose careers do continue to thrive are often mentally damaged by the stress of sustaining it. Regularly reconstructing it with as much frequency as their faces have been to the plastic surgeon. Any music career is inclined towards 'erectile disfunction' from time to time. If you can't get it up by natural means of innate talent, then maybe it could benefit from some chemical stimulation, or a collaboration.

The youthfully defiant unconventionalism, of saying unsayable things, of teenage rebellions against the norm, can become reduced in crotchety middle age to the lazy tropes of right wing patriotism, with all its suspect sentimental assumptions loudly declared. When all but the most loyal of fans have only a vague idea who you were, a bit of controversy reminds them what a twat you currently are. Maybe always were.

Its as though, post fame, it's never going to be kind to our heroes. Their minds addled by increasing age and inflexibility. Finding themselves hankering for a career and a time before arthritis or slerotic arteries were even thought of, let alone experienced. They are after all, human.

The transitory nature of fame, is just a micro example of the transitory nature of everything. The energy, idealism and optimism of our youth, worn down by experience into world weariness, cynicism or abject fear. Change, once so enthusiastically welcomed, is now strenuously resisted. We all want to make our presence felt, to leave something behind of value, to be in someway remembered. Whether that is by fans, friends or family. However, the circumstances that support remembrance are also likewise transitory. Adulation is fickle, as is memory, history and the internet.

'Time takes a cigarette, puts it in your mouth. You pull on your finger, then another finger, then cigarette. The wall to wall is calling, It lingers, then you forget - Oh oh oh oh, you're a rock n roll suicide.'  

David Bowie - Rock n Roll Suicide

THE BEST BEFORE DATE - 1978 - Love You More by The Buzzcocks

Having survived Devoto's abrupt departure. The Buzzcocks needed to capitalise on the momentum their Spiral Scratch EP had created. Their next single, released in November 1977 was deemed so controversial, it was banned 

Orgasm Addict, was a peon to masturbation, including a mock ejaculatory outcry. It was still part of the zeitgeist to provocatively offend. What Pete Shelley did subsequently was to refine, then entirely alter the future mood music of punk. Evolving it into the New Wave. This still had the propulsive speed and energy of punk, but allied it to broken hearted love songs with melodies.

Two singles later, the Buzzcocks songs were mellowing, yet still hovered outside the top thirty.  Love You More was the simplest of love songs. It got a tiny bit closer to the main chart, at number 32. Its protagonist is worried about how long his new love will last - I don't want to end up like a nine day wonder -  he opines. Was the lack of longevity in relationships linked to him not loving someone enough?  Otherwise it will last until - the razor cuts - and then the song abruptly ends. Doesn't sound healthy does it? Shelley knew how to bring the suggestion of an edge to even the most conventional sounding love song.

After Love You More, a series of propulsively driven love songs, with catchy lyrical hooks and Pete Shelley's whining vocal style were released. Ever Fallen In Love With Somone You Shouldn't Have Fallen in Love With? finally broke into the top twenty peaking at No 12. Two other top twenty hits followed. The next single ended just outside the top thirty again. At which point the band split due to difficulties with their record company. But in truth, they had already wrung the life out of their current musical style by then.

FINISHED READING - A Plague On Both Your Houses by Susanna Gregory

Matthew Bartholomew is a doctor in a Cambridge college, Michealhouse. There are, as ever, a lot of tensions and competitiveness between academics, students, colleges, between town and gown. This is the 13th Century, and the growing rivalry  of Cambridge with Oxford is also in the air. There is a rumour going round that infiltrators from Oxford are trying to undermine and bring down their competitors in Cambridge"s burgeoning colleges.

Sir John Beddington, the college principle  is found dead, at first its thought he 's committed suicide, but Matthew realises it was murder. Looking back there have been a series of mysterious deaths. On the surface they look uncontroversial. Closer examination shows something is not quite right about them. Then an elderly monk Augustus, who'd previously warned about something nefarious going on, is found brutally murdered. And then his dead body goes missing. What is going on here?

Set with great detail and realism in the 13th century - A Plague On Both Your Houses, opens in the weeks leading up toThe Great Plague spreading to Cambridge. Gradually as it draws nearer and consumes Matthew's workload, it becomes harder to discern what deaths are due to the disease, and what to homicide.

This is the first of a multi volume series of Medieval detective novels featuring the character Matthew Bartholemew. You can tell Susanne Gregory is still finding her feet here,  her way into the characters, period and style. It's a overwritten in places, one too many sub plots, charaters and red herrings. By its conclusion I was no clearer in my own mind, why the group responsible were doing what they were doing. There are a couple of genuinely surprising plot twists and reveals. A good first novel though, very readable.

CARROT REVIEW - 4/8

SHORT STORY - Mission Creep

I looked at myself in the bedroom mirror, and there it was, the fungus the bogeyman face. During the day I successfully became yet another variation on a human being. Yesterday an unsightly and obese boy, tomorrow perhaps I resemble a desiccated human walnut, a good deal older. Not always masculine either. Some times the race or gender shifts, even a little indeterminately. Lets just say I can receive funny looks - of the 'what is that?' -  variety.

When I pull myself away from the truth that inhabits mirrors, I imagine myself as this perfect simulacrum, perhaps young, unformed, even gauche. All those small tropes of behaviour that help define the human, the usual things they like to eat, drink and be merry with. 

Once I side glance my reflection in a shop window all of this falls away. Pretences? No longer convincing. Mirrors will not lie. They tear down facades, dissolve any artificial perception filter I've erected. That this happens solely within my vision and no-one else's, is unsettling. My being, being so bloody changeable. This is not why I am here on earth, surely? To visibly hold my sense of self together, with gaffer tape, for the good of the Misson.

I can't remember when this slipperiness in my appearance started. Was there a multiplicity always present? How I was made in my DNA? Except, I've always assumed I didn't have any. I'm made to pass as human, no more than this was required of me. No one will ever know otherwise. I move around, and each gender disguise is never seen through. Successfully I concoct yet another new 'appearance' to add to my wide range of recognisible personas. My being, mind and body is a 3D blank canvas upon which my line managers paint.

Today I was a teacher, I walked into the local comprehensive. I taught mathematics there. I ate my lunch in the canteen, I conversed with the students, with other teachers, the caretaker, nothing went remotely amiss. They all appeared to see me for who I was; a kind and capable supply teacher.  I returned home happily convinced by my own portrayal. A moment of shock, taken a back again. I was a woman, a middle aged woman, smartly dressed, high powered and businesslike. Had I changed gender during the tube journey home? I was a man for sure when I left this morning. Same cheekbones, chin too perhaps, but definitely male. The worrying thing is I didn't notice any change happening.

I've little control left over who I am. It used to be I could set in concrete the gender, the character and career etc. Now it can roll over of its own accord. Its anyone's guess who I'll become any day, any hour, any minute. So far nothing has altered whilst I've been out on assignment. Well, not that I've noticed. Which is fortunate.

Each evening I melt into the armchair and let whoever I've been that day evaporate away. Back to the fat glutenous blob I really am, that only I see in a mirror, its not pretty, not humanly handsome. I sit, an open channel processing and offloading my experiences of that day. Then downloading the life mantle I'm to assume tomorrow. Absorb the notes and details, then prepare for the constructing of the facsimile the following morning.

I've not told my bosses about the unannounced shape shifting. They'll just blame it on me, I know they will. Even during my training I found conforming to a fixed identity hard to maintain. Something within me wants to rebel. Though I thought I had a good handle on it. Obviously not.

I have this intentionally boring foundation character I assume at home, a Mr Average. Its just so I don't arouse the neighbours suspicions. Onto this base is layered today's experiment. Today this surface level is a younger man, early twenties, works in a call centre, hates his job, hates himself, just broke up with his partner of two years, currently on a bit of a downward spiral. Not a cheery chap to be, or be around

He feels considerably more fidgety mentally. I really have to grapple to keep hold of him, more than most 'appearances'. A strong undertow of depression. Everyone I'm encountering so far avoids him. He stinks a bit of piss and liquor. People walk to the other side of the street. I hung around on a park bench for a while, fell asleep, till a park warden gave me a sharp poke with his stick - 'you'd better move on mate, before the bill are sent for, don't make it harder for me please

So I get up, walk around the park a bit, down the edge by the canal. It's quiet here. Until I encounter a group of men. They begin to tease and taunt, and this ends in them manhandling and joshing me. I lose my balance. I fall in the canal. My 'appearance' is totally unable to swim, so I instantly flounder and thrash about ineffectively in the dingey water. I ask for their help, they jeer and walk off. I fight for air, sink and gasp  till the weight of my clothes begins to get the better of me. I become entangled in something in the canal bottom. All my energy to fight for life, proves insufficient. I submerge beneath the turbulent surface. As I slowly descend into the murky sediment, all I can think of is - is this what they do when you begin to malfunction? Am I being taken out?