OU TMA 06 Religious Studies OR History of Science

This TMA is a choice between these two subjects. A 1200 word essay is required and I'm way behind on the studying. I reckon I'll plump for the Religious Studies question which is:
How far do you think observing a religious activity, such as a festival, can help you to understand the part a religion plays in the life of an individual or a community?

Now so far I what I'm thinking is this. 'Read the question'! See it's not about religion per se, or a religious activity, or an individual, or a community. It's about how far I think the mere observance of a religious activity can help me to understand the part a religion plays etc. So we're separating the study of religion from religion itself. OK it's blindingly obvious to you lot but it helps me if I spell it out in front of me like this before I get my teeth into it.

So where should we proceed from here? Well tonight is Monday and there is usually live jazz on in the pub downstairs, so I think that is where I will proceed. In the meantime I want you lot to study this question carefully and give me your answer in not more than 1200 words. And NO TALKING! For god's sake Lingo Slinger pull your skirt down, we can almost see your breakfast! Twenty Major! Put that cigarette out or I'll have to tweak you. Clairwil! Leave Nogbad alone! Do stop snivelling Nogbad, it's pathetic. No Larnach, you can not sit next to Bluefluff. Yes I know she's your friend. No Bluefluff you cannot sit next to Larnach. Now heads down people, I'm off to the pub. Barker! You're in charge.

The Real Reason For The War In Iraq

I want you to imagine a pipe. It’s a big open-ended pipe and here’s how big it is. It’s so big that Shaquille O’Neal can stand inside it wearing a top hat. In metres it’s 2.4 m diameter or, for you Americans, it’s 7 feet 10 inches. Now, let’s get Shaq out of the way because we don’t want him to get injured, because down this pipe we are going to send crude oil. This crude oil will flow at a speed of 3 m/sec or 6.7 miles/hour, a fairly fast running pace, and it will fill the whole diameter of the pipe. So this is what I want you to visualise, a pipe 7 feet 10 inches diameter flowing full bore with crude oil, every minute of every hour, of every day of every year, on and on without cease. It flows like a river, it gushes continuously, it roars forward, a cataract of black oil. Just imagine what that oil would look like as it cascaded out of that pipe. Think of the sheer ear-drum shattering noise, the earth-shaking vibration, the awesome power of it.

The quantity that flows through this pipe is 10,178,711 barrels per day. Every day, on and on. This is, on recent average, the amount of crude oil that the US imports every day, continuously, year after year, and the trend, rather than decreasing, in these days of worrying middle east politics and global warming, and so on, is increasing. Of course there is not a single pipe. There are a number of them, from Canada for example, plus the oil imported, largely from the Middle East, by the huge tankers that berth at LOOP off the coast of Louisiana, and at the offshore lightering areas off of Galveston, plus the smaller tankers, relatively speaking, berthing at shore facilities on both coasts. The US in fact only produces just over 5.5 million barrels per day, so it relies on imports for about two thirds of its needs.

Now let’s add this up in cash. We need to keep it on a daily basis because if you try to think of it yearly it’s just crazy. Let’s say a barrel on average costs $50. In fact today it’s about $65/barrel. So 10,178,711 times 50 = $508,935,550 per day. Have you got that? Half a billion dollars a day! That’s what’s flowing out as the crude flows in. Now I believe the US has a trade deficit of about 49 billion dollars. That’s about 100 days of crude oil imports, actually it’s a lot fewer than that if we keep to a realistic oil price. Is anybody making the connection here?

Of course the US needs energy to produce goods and to keep the economy moving, but does it need so much that it hurts? It hurts the economy and it hurts the environment. It seems perverse to me. And do you know what is really perverse? If a US politician wants to make himself unelectable he just has to stand up and say that gasoline is too cheap and that there is a crying need to put more tax on it and to consume less.

And here’s the real truth behind the war in Iraq. GW Bush has no idea how to run the country without this huge oil consumption. In his term imports have continuously risen to these levels, and they just keep on climbing. And now this and this.

The growing economies of India and China are taking more and more out of a finite supply, pushing prices higher and creating supply problems in the medium to long term. Where does it end? The gloomiest scenario is a world economic collapse and further turmoil in oil producing areas such as Iraq. It’s not too far fetched to say that Iraq is only the beginning unless the American public wakens up to what is going on, and unless American politicians start telling the truth about how vulnerable the country is to depend so much on imported oil. While Bush is in power? Fat fucking chance. You need more? Read all about it here.

Now think of the torrent of oil flowing today into the US, over 10 million barrels a day, and picture it slowing, stuttering, trickling and then .. stopping.

A Love Of Language

Rendition (noun). Interpretation, rendering of dramatic role, musical piece, etc. (Concise Oxford Dictionary).

Some people call me pedantic. Now I take some pride in that. It means, to me, that I pay attention to detail, that I like all my commas in the right place, that I don’t like unnecessary apostrophe’s, that I like words spelled correctly. I like that in me. What’s wrong with wanting to be correct? What’s wrong with having a love of language, and wanting people to have some respect for it? And this love of language extends to wanting other people to mean what they say, especially politicians. But they are devious bastards those people. Their deviousness knows no bounds. They will take a word, a perfectly innocent word, and give it a meaning that none of us will ever have imagined could be associated with that word.

How can anyone do that? How can anyone just stand up at a meeting and say:
“You know, Mr President, I think that it’s a wonderful idea, but what we’ll do,see, is just to keep it sweet with the media people, if they ever get to hear about it (har, har!) is, we won’t call it ‘transportation of suspects to another country in order to torture them and cover our tracks’, see that’s just too many words. No, we’ll give it a simple title that couldn’t possibly offend anybody. Let’s say, I know - rendition!”

Rendition! You’ve got to hand it to them, the devious, black-hearted fuckers. This is a word that reminds people of a poetry reading. How far away from torture can you get! It was bad enough when poor old Dan Quayle tried to tell a class of school kids that potato ended in an ‘e’, but this is beyond an outrage. They are fucking with our language and they can not, they must not get away with it. This is what we used to tut-tut about in our superior free-thinking, western liberal way when the Soviet Union was extant. Wake up for fuck’s sake! Especially you people with the vote in the home of the fucking brave! A lie is a lie. And the biggest fucking lie of all is that Iraq had something to do with 9/11. No, that's just an insinuation they want people to believe, the biggest lie is that they are in Iraq to free it from terrorism, to give the people democracy. If it wasn't so tragic you would have to laugh, but if they keep repeating their lies in language nobody understands anymore, they'll get away with it.

Listen to language. Listen to language like this:

And what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son ?
And what'll you do now my darling young one ?
I'm a-goin' back out 'fore the rain starts a-fallin'
I'll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison
And the executioner's face is always well hidden
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten
Where black is the color, where none is the number
And I'll tell and think it and speak it and breathe it
And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it
And I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin'
But I'll know my songs well before I start singin'
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
© Bob Dylan

Social Anthropology

I've got to admit that I like"Irish" pubs. And I mean, by those inverted commas, even those whose only claim to Irishness is a Guiness tap. For example I was in one in Rijeka last week called The River Pub and it was full to the brim with all that shite that you'd never see in any self-respecting bar in Dublin. You know the kind of thing; old pressing irons and broken sewing machines, copper kettles and saddles and any kind of a thing that looks vaguely rustic, not to say rusty. Well that was the River Pub, choc-a-bloc with "Irishness". But here's the thing. On the wall upstairs was a huge picture of Winston Churchill. Now I'm no expert on Irish history but ... well you get my drift. Anyway the whole place just looked fucking stupid, but I liked it anyway. It wasn't even owned by an Irish person, it was owned by a Croat and the barmaid had not a word of English, or Irish I'll bet. But the place had a nice atmosphere and the music was good old rhythm & blues.

And then I get to Trieste and find out that there's an "English" pub. The "London Pub". Now what kind of a shite name is that. Anyway it does serve good Guiness and there was the best selection of malt whiskies on the gantry that I've seen outside of Glasgow. So we tried some, and then we tried some more, in the interests of scientific research you see. And we discovered a very strange thing. That no matter how much we hated this "English" pub, and no matter how much we absolutely detested the fact that they put so much fucking herbs on your steak that you couldn't eat it, that we began to like this place too. And the barman, who last night was the surliest bastard you could ever hope to punch on the face, was now just the nicest person who ever graced this good earth. And he even gave us a scarf, courtesy of Guiness, to keep the cold wind at bay while we wound our way back to the hotel. Now is that not amazing?

TMA 05 - He's Pulled Out The Big One!

80% for TMA05! Can you believe it? It's true dear blog readers. I have surpassed my own highest expectations and now sit astride an average of (let me see, times that, divided by thingy) 68%! Now I know you all knew I had it in me but I have to say I'm chuffed to bits with this mark. It just goes to show, there's the odd little nugget among the dross. And it does give one a boost for the work ahead. The next modules are on religion; bring it on.

Actually the next modules are intriguing and, given the time to concentrate, I should find them interesting. Unfortunately (getting my excuses in early) I am travelling to Trieste tomorrow and I'll be there until maybe middle of next week, which means that work will be getting in the way. It's almost impossible for me to sit down and study in a city that's new to me. The least I'll have to do is find out where the Irish pub/s is/are. All in the pursuit of the my ancillary studies in social anthropology of course. I'll keep you posted.

It's Done & Gone!

For better or worse, it's gone. So what was my answer to this? Well you know I can't give away too much. The OU takes a dim view of people publishing TMAs on websites or such so I'm going by the rules ... but! Well I can give you a few hints.

The first part:
Discuss the relationship between individual freedom and social responsibility as represented in the Social Contract by Jean-Jacques Rousseau.
Well, piece of piss. You just read the thing and you discuss it. You look a bit fucking loopy though, sitting alone in a room declaiming to no-one at all, but that's what you got to do. And then you put it down on paper, as it were, via your keyboard. And you conclude, as any right thinking individual would, that Rousseau was one mixed up muddahfuggah. But you can't write that down because they would take an even dimmer view of that; so you make something up. To the effect that Rousseau believed that an individual can be free, and live according to his own needs and desires, while at the same time obeying the rules and laws of the state, as long as that state is based on legitimate authority, i.e. not a king's assumed authority. Well that was the gist.

So how about the paintings? For a start they are different in context and in content. The first, the David, is a clear representation of a scene taken from the story of the founding of the ancient Roman republic. Let me guide you here to improve your education to the level of mine. And here. So it's an ancient story which can easily be seen as an allegory for the contemporary events of David's life, vis. the French revolution.


This picture by Friedrich is a different sort of a fellow altogether. It may, or not, depict a scene from the artist's imagination or it may be drawn partly from memory or some other source. It is, though, my impression that this is a very personal statement. The picture is not meant to provide an overt message, like the David, but rather to invoke a mood or state of mind. There is a melancholy air about the work but it's very enigmatic. Very, I would say, open to the individual viewers interpretation, rather than presenting a clear message from the artist.

Please don't think I have any confidence that my view on these two great paintings would carry much weight with any half educated art historian, but I hope I make a reasonable point.

Now it's Friday, the week-end starts here. Out for a pint tonight, and then I'm visiting Rijeka over the Saturday and Sunday. Vidimo se! By the way there is a fantastic fine art web-site here. The images are large so if you've got a nice big flat screen monitor, enjoy!

I Only Look Worried.

Where do I begin? TMA05 due in on Friday and not a fucking clue.

(a) "Discuss the relationship between individual freedom and social responsibility as represented in The Social Contract by Jean-Jacques Rousseau."

And that's only the half of it! The other part is:
(b) How far is it appropriate to bear the same concepts in mind when considering Jacques-Louis David's Brutus and Caspar Freidrich's Wanderer Above The Sea of Fog respectively?

I feel like a fucking wanderer above a sea of fog myself! I'll tell you how far it is appropriate, mate. Not very. But they don't want that, do they? No - you've got to waffle on for 600 words for part (a) and another 600 fuckers for part (b), checking the word count every two seconds while you circumlocute like Stephen Fry with a drink in him; till you don't what you've said but the verbiage count is spot on. And there it is, padded out with shite like 'the dichotomy presented to us has to be resolved by intellectual analysis' and 'when we consider, as consider we must, the metaphor within the metaphor'. Should be good for a bare pass. What more could we ask for?

Charles Kennedy Resigns.

So Charles Kennedy has resigned. While this is some kind of a sad conclusion to his reign as leader of the Liberal Party it is also an important waypoint in his battle with alcoholism. And in the end that is the more important matter. I believe that he was doing himself and his family no good by trying to cling on to a position which could only bring more pressure on him, and thus increase the likelihood that drink would regain the upper hand. When it comes down to it there is every reason for those closest to alcoholics to be pessimistic about a successful outcome in their fight against the demon drink. I have witnessed at close hand the losing battle, over a long long number of years, of a close relation against alcohol addiction, and it is totally demoralising to be close to such relentless self-destruction. There are, of course, those who do prevail and I fervently hope that Charles Kennedy will be one of those.

It is not entirely surprising that Charles Kennedy tried to live up to what he saw as his duty to the party. I believe he is that rarest of politicians, a man of great integrity, and therefore he put his party before self. It was a mistake, but that is in the nature of the illness he is fighting. Lack of judgement comes hand in hand with alcohol addiction. Now that he has made his decision I hope that the press and the public will give him credit for his bravery and his integrity, and the space to find some healing. And let us not forget the quality of the man. He has been a Member of Parliament since he was 23 years old. He is yet only forty six. He'll be back.

New Year Resolve.

This is the time of year when we all should resolve to do better so, not to let the opportunity pass by, here are my resolutions:-

• I will stop contemplating my navel and concentrate on other more attractive ones.
• I will pay more attention to the whereabouts of my glasses.
• I will walk away from people who look at my shoulder or close their eyes when talking to me.
• If someone does that interrogative inflection when they are actually making a statement to me I will kick them in the balls.
• I will drink less alcohol and more milk.
• I will blog at least twice per week.
• I will read more books.
• I will give up pocket billiards except during business meetings.
• I will stop saying ‘fuck’. No I fucking won’t.
• I will not engage in sadism, necrophilia or bestiality, because that would be like flogging a dead horse.
• I will be better organised for my Open University course.
• I will be nicer to people who are important to me.
• I will weigh 4 kgs. less by June.
• I will lower my golf handicap by 4 strokes.
• I will campaign tirelessly to eradicate unnecessary apostrophe’s.
• I will avoid cliches like the plague.

So I'm doing my bit. Are you doing yours?