The necromancers

(Reflections on Armed Forces Memorial Day 2014 in Stirling)

See clarty kirkholes open wide
where Scotia's honoured dead did bide!
The dead, undone, keek at the sun,
so unaccustomed to the light.
Their tarnished medals, once so bright,
some won in actions now condemned,
hang daubed with glaur and ragged hems.
See winds blow through their tattered clothes
and through the ribs that lie exposed
as they seek those who summoned them,
and made similitude of life
in those death has released from strife.

Lined up in pristine uniforms
beneath the fly-past and salute,
the living stand two minutes stiff
in mute similitude of death,
to share the silence of the dead
just for a while, with respect.
Their medals bright, their epaulettes,
have yet to see the rust and sweat,
their hearts to feel their courage stall,
with fear before the final fall
into the mud; and solitude
that's witnessed through a sniper's sight,
until his trigger sounds its knell;
and mud, from which the dead emerge
as reassembled limbs converge
now summoned by some eldritch spell
to quit the silent halls of hell,
and show the day their share of night.

There is a thread that stretches back,
connects the future to the past,
a thread so thin, yet strong as steel
or spider's silk, and they will play
upon this string, who cast this spell,
a tune to make us dance today:
the necromancers, puppeteers,
who raise us high and lay us low
with cheers and tears and shadow shows.

The pageant and display persuades
the fools but not the wise. The sage
prefer the words of reason but
no reasons are found in the grave:
there chaos is defeated not
by reason but by silence. But
the dead must speak! It's why they're here!

It's why the turf was rolled away
and dead boys dug up here today.
It's why the dignitaries pray,
invoking ghosts of history,
and con with ermine mystery
while children starve. The script prepared
for heroes is distributed
to bony hands beneath dead eyes
for mouths to speak, to tell the tale
of glories past and sell new lies
of old wars fought and new wars sought,
and what we ought. Alas, they fail.

Mouths move but from the lips drip bullets,
from the eyes seep tears of earth,
dark sodden muddy tears. No words
are left to these who were deprived
of voice and choice by generals
when into hell they were consigned
to save the empire "God" designed
the day their futures were denied.

You'll see this story lacks a bold
and brave young hero, so let's say
the hero of this tale I've told
is just a face among the crowd,
a girl watching the parade.

She's Cutty Sark, but as a child,
before the wicked world unfolds
and finds her gone astray. The wild
and wanton witch has yet to show
and never will: the outcome hung
a while in the scales between
embodiment of all that's fine,
and the demonic feminine
another tetrametric verse
has taught us all to fear and curse.
Unlike that anti-heroine,
that anti-eurydice quine,
from Scotia's dreich dark underworld
another path was for this girl,
she makes for us another choice:
to rescue from the necromancers
all their mute and mirthless dancers
Breaking step, in softest voice
she speaks up quietly to implore

"Instead go to the furthest place where bugles have not blared,
to find the silence and the space to speak short words and spare
- no grave is there, and innocent of human presence still
that place remains - and let their names hang in the icy air."

How to bake a democracy cake

Ten easy steps to tasty politics ... 

1. Gather some friends and neighbours
2. Make sure there is enough coffee, tea and biscuits for everyone
3. Have a calm respectful discussion of the issue to be decided
4. Access information provided by advocates of the different points of view to be discussed
5. Make sure a range of opinions is represented in the discussion. Democracy cake will not rise if agreement is reached too early.
6. The discussion should have no "winner" or "loser" as this will also prevent the cake from rising
7. Bake at a very low heat for a very long time to avoid a half-baked cake
8. Once it is polling day, make sure you all vote!
9. Congratulations, you now have now baked a democracy cake. 
10. Feel free to decorate it with whatever offices of state, flags, parliaments, etc. you like

Gaza

In Gaza babies see a second birth,
born from the body then born from the earth,
the innocent witnessing their stillborn guilt,
born living then pulled in a caul of dust,
from ruins of the homes their fathers built,
as innocence departs to skies above,
where bombs fall as if from the wings of doves,
the drones absolved, the blind eye turned by us,
an innocence that we are guilty of.

Cha chreid mi nach e

I suppose this post has ended up as something of a love letter to Gaelic.

I am a Gaelic learner. My mother is a fluent native speaker. However she is of the generation who failed to transmit the language to their children, misled by ideas about the utility of the language and what they thought was best (e.g. "why speak Gaelic if it won't help you get a job?"). My own children attend a Gaelic school because of the benefits to them, but I must confess to a desire on my part to remedy this generational failure to transmit the language.

As a learner, I love the phrase cha chreid mi nach e. For me, at the moment, at my current stage of language acquisition, it exemplifies in a nutshell much of what I find fascinating and distinctive about Gaelic.

Bear with me during this digression about grammar please! I promise it will be brief.

Meaning something like "I would not believe that it isn't", cha chreid mi nach e is a wonderfully understated, elliptical double negative for conveying the idea "I think so", "Je pense que oui", that I think gives some insight into the kind of thinking that Gaelic supports, in line with the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis.

Looking at the mechanics of the language we see the use of the depedent form of a verb to indicate subordination - "that it isn't" is indicated by same mechanism one would use to ask "isn't it?" In effect that question is being answered by the clause that subordinates it. I find a grammar that combines direct question and indirect answer in this way so elegant and economical.

The verb is not conjugated with reference to person. What matters instead is whether it is a question or statement - is e "it is" or an e "is it?" - and whether it is positive or negative - chan e "it isn't" and nach e "isn't it?". All information about person is in the noun or pronoun.

We see a distinction between contingent tha and essential is forms of the verb to be. We can distinguish between what a thing is in and of itself and what temporary properties or conditions may pertain to it in a way that allows concision, subtlety and nuance not possible in English.

There are so many other examples of features of Gaelic I find fascinating: the use of the genitive case instead of the accusative case. I do not "kick a stone", tha mi a' breabadh cloiche, "I am at the kicking of a stone".

The language describes not what one thing does to another thing, but rather, how it relates to the other thing. The use of prepositional pronouns also lends power and suppleness to this facility. I do not "colour in" a shape, I cuir dath oirre, "put colour on it". I do not "sleep", tha mi 'nam cadal, "I am in my sleeping".   

Grammar digression over. 

There are many other features of the language which lend it descriptive possibilities not otherwise available, which I can't illustrate in the five simple words to which the phrase I have chosen, cha chreid mi nach e, is limited. Going beyond the narrow utilitarian monoglot perspective that results in languages being steam-rollered out of existence, Gaelic represents, in line with the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, a valuable and unique way of seeing and describing the world that we must not lose.

I am fond of the origin myth of Gaelic. The story goes that a man, Fenius Farsa, was concerned about the confusion of tongues that followed God's destruction of the Tower of Babel. He assembled a team of 72 scholars to study the world's languages and reconstruct the original language that preceded them before the confusion of tongues, and Gaelic was one of the outcomes. Hence the affectionate way in which Gaelic is referred to as The Laguage of the Garden of Eden. 

I enjoy analysing myth. One of my favourite books is "The White Goddess" by Robert Graves. I see in the 72 scholars of Fenius Farsa another instance of the number 72, such as we see in the 72 jewish scholars of Alexandria who translated the Hebrew Pentateuch. Of course, the ancient Egyptians had a calendar of five 72 day seasons plus 5 halycon days, but I like to speculate that the recurrence of this number in myth relates to the 72 days between the inferior conjunction and maximum eastern elongation of the planet Venus. This appeals to my background in astronomy and my inclination to find the origin of our origin myths in our prehistoric ancestors observations of the heavens.

My fascination with linguistics leads me to speculate about the relationship between the name Fenius and the Gaelic word for "self", fein, and to muse upon the somewhat gnostic capacity for reflection the Gaelic language mediates. I imagine this facilitated the esoteric yet intimate contemplations of Gaelic saints meditating in stone cells along the western seaboards of these islands one and a half millenia ago, and can give us access to their spirituality in the same landscape they experienced and described it in while they were recasting their language's origin myth in explicitly Christian terms.

One thing that I, as a learner, find intensely frustrating, is objections from member of the native language community to forms of Gaelic other than their own dialect, in particular, forms that they perceive to be relatively artificial products and projections of centralisation, standardisation and authority - "BBC" Gaelic, or "Sabhal Mor Ostaig" Gaelic, or however they choose to refer to it.

Yes, the influence of the learner community, with its need for a standard version, is transforming the language, but that need is a consequence of tthe native community's failure to transmit the language. I would rather than language survived after this process of transformation than went extinct. If the native community want to preserve the language in the form they prefer, they must make the effort to speak it to their childern, to their colleagues, and to their clients, rather than just complain about those prepared to invest the effort to learn it. This effort is the modern Fenius Farsa project that will ensure the survival of the language. Get on board or step aside!

In conclusion, I would like to propose something. Although I started out by referring to misconceptions about the utility of language and the harm this has done to the Gaelic language, I couldn't help but note with great sadness the decline in Gaelic in its Hebridean heartland while on holiday in Lewis this summer.

Of course I would want about a narrow utilitarian perspective when trying to remedy this. For example, if one looks to the Cajun language community in North America, one sees its recovery closely linked to cultural efforts surrounding their music from which we can learn a lot.

Nevertheless, I would like to see Gaelic as a language of business and the workplace in its own heartland. Surely some support could be given to shops and companies that choose to transact business between each other and their customers in the Gaelic heartland using the Gaelic language. When a child leaves Gaelic medium education as an adult, let's provide them with jobs where they can speak Gaelic.

Is this such a bad idea? Cha chreid mi nach e!

Darling's Candy

Ally Bally Ally Bally Bee
Darling came on our telly
greeting about the currency
for buying Coulter's candy

Poor wee Ally couldny get it right
Spouting politics of spite
We can all see through his shite
because it isny Darling's candy

Ally Bally Ally Bally BOO
Try and scare me and I'll scare you
Because assets means liabilities too
and they're no "Coulter's candy"

Our oil, toil, talent and time
will make our bawbees glitter and shine
and come September we'll ken fine
how to tae make sure weans hae candy

Ally Bally Ally Bally Bee
Sitting on yer mammy’s knee
Greeting for a wee bawbee
Tae buy some Coulter’s candy

Why currency uncertainty should make you vote Yes

In relation to the Scottish Independence referendum, does the No campaign's monomaniacal obsession with currency mean they have conceded every other point of contention, for example,

• Nuclear weapons and the removal of Trident from the Clyde
• Responsible stewardship of oil and renewable resources
• Saving the NHS from privatisation, dismemberment and the TTIP
• Foodbanks, social justice, and reducing our society's obscene levels of inequality
• The imposition on society of artifical austerity in the midst of corporate greed
• Self-determination and the sovereignty of the people
• EU membership and the fact that an Independent Scotland does not require accession

and so on? Are we to believe that currency must be given priority over all other considerations?

Until recently, when EU Commission President Jean-Claude Junker flatly contradicted their assertions, the No campaign placed equal emphasis on the uncertainty over an Independent Scotland's membership of the EU. Now that they have been found out about that, it seems they are left with one remaining big lie to use for all it's worth.

The uncertainty regarding the currency does not arise from the prospect of Scottish Independence. It is introduced by the actions of the No campaign. By threatening a veto on a currency union, which all independent and impartial experts identify as the preferrable option, Westminster raises the possibility it will act out of vindictiveness rather than pragmatism.

This uncertainty relates to whether or not Westminster will be pragmatic or vindictive in relation to a currency union actually features in my decision to vote Yes, rather than No.

I reflect on history and see

• The narrow failure of the referendum in 1979, followed by 
• Two decades of punishing Tory policies towards Scotland and then 
• A decisive victory in the referendum in 1999

The choice before us now, as I see it, is not between Yes and No. It is between

• A narrow victory now, or 
• A temporary set back followed by a decisive victory after another two debilitating decades. 

I would take the narrow victory now to avoid two decades of punishment. Why vote No and then throw the dice every few years and hope for the best at Westminster when they

• Refuse to pre-negociate, even to the minimum extent required by the Electoral Commission,
• Refuse to seek the clarification from the EU which only they, as the government of the current member state, are able to do, and
• Veto a currency union out of spite, against expert advice

and choose at every turn to adopt an approach that introduces uncertainties they can attribute to their opponents.

What price the pound?

We'll pay for our prescriptions and our university fees,
We'll fork out what it costs to pay for nuclear submarines,
We'll wage illegal warfare in a hideous spending spree,
If only we can do it with the pound.

Don't try to close the foodbanks or to end child poverty,
Please sacrifice our NHS to private perfidy,
Impose on us a government prioritising greed,
As long as you don't take from us the pound.

We'll tolerate intolerable inequalities,
Go fracking and Iraqing and ignore real wants and needs,
We'll show your Cyclops to our kids, their futures surely feed,
That one eyed monster known as the pound

Mike Club

Consider a simple mechanism: a chess clock connected to two microphones. The mikes are switched on and off by the clock, so that when one opponent's mike is on, and the time available for them to talk is elapsing, the other's is off, so that they cannot interrupt, and vice versa.

Choose a simple topic on which two opposed points of view might reasonably be debated. Allocate, say, ten minutes to each opponent, or whatever seems a reasonable amount of time given the topic, then let them debate the topic.

Imagine how this will unfold. The set up preserves the sense of an entertaining adversarial contest and ensures it is decided purely by the opponents' powers of persuasion. Some of the frustrating behaviour seen in recent television debates would be discouraged. Each opponent would be likely to cede control before they use up their time because they need to retain an opportunity for rebuttal of points made by their opponent. It would be interesting to see how they end up managing their time.   

1. The first rule of mike club is you talk about mike club.
2. The second rule of mike club is you talk about mike club.

In general, if you want an outcome, to decide who the "winner" is, you could have an audience who are polled before and after the debate, with the winner being the one whose vote goes up. The outcome then relies on the persuasiveness of the speakers and not on the underlying weight of opinion prior to the debate. 

It seems to me this system would be useful just now as we discuss the pros and cons of Scottish Independence. Rather than debate that as a single issue using this format, I would break it down into a number of debates on related topics such as

• Social justice
• The future of the NHS
• The removal of Trident
• Environmental issues and climate change
• Energy policy and renewables
• Foreign affairs and the European Union
• The oil industry
• Currency

and so on. Each side could put forward a different spokesperson best equipped for each debate.

In general, a useful variant might have three polling options, to include undecideds, polled using a traffic light system of red, amber and green. This would allow badly posed topics involving, for example, imponderables, straw men, and false dichotomies, to be trapped as a win for the undecideds.