Category: uncategorized

I'm having to write this on my phone, as my computer's packed up. Bear with me, the title above will be explained. This morning, I went to my computer as usual, being obsessed lately with updating its table of contents and fixing up posts where needful. For example, I'd found a document in an old… Continue reading Finding Fulfilment →

Illustration: from the New York Times review of first edition, in 1907. I’d been reading a trio of Conrad’s sea stories: The Nigger of the Narcissus, Typhoon and The Shadow-Line. Two were about storms, one a calm; two about sailing ships, one steam; two about serious illness on board, one about the obstinacy of a captain. After these I… Continue reading The Secret Agent →

an extract from Virginibus Puerisque Closely following on this epoch of migratory lanthorns in a world of extinction, came the era of oil-lights, hard to kindle, easy to extinguish, pale and wavering in the hour of their endurance. Rudely puffed the winds of heaven; roguishly clomb up the all-destructive urchin; and, lo! in a moment… Continue reading Robert Louis Stevenson on Gas Lamps →

I wrote this in 2006, when social media were still young. Blogspot was the popular medium for bloggers, who habitually offered lists of  other blogs they recommended. See for example Bryan White's Encyclopedia of Counting Sheep with his journal of dreams.  Reading it again, I still hold to the view that blogging is a way… Continue reading Giving Something Back →

Who was she? Although the history of her formal canonization is complicated, regional calendars of the Catholic Church have listed her as a saint for centuries. On 10 May 2012, Pope Benedict XVI extended the liturgical cult of Hildegard to the entire Catholic Church in a process known as "equivalent canonization". I'll try and read… Continue reading Hildegard of Bingen →

farm buildings with brick and flint building behind, part of the estate     land fenced off Gate to the public footpath on return walk farm worker had just laid this fresh supply of hay. She stopped to chat when she was about to push a wheelbarrow heavily laden with water to replenish the trough… Continue reading Sunday Morning Stroll →

This is to say thank you to all readers and especially to Ellie Clayton, Phil Ebersole, IanInverness and Michael Peverett, for your comments on my recent Simone Weil posts. Also to those who clicked on “like”. Most especially to those who remained silent. It’s all valuable feedback. It’s become clear that reading Gravity and Grace is not… Continue reading A Graceful Retreat →

Dostoevsky, from Father Zossima's discourse in The Brothers Karamazov, freely rendered

Gerald Bullett has this to say about the excerpt:

Shakespeare, Sonnet 116

Traherne, from Centuries of Meditations

It's definitely time for another post. Ideally, some inner process would prompt me into bursting forth, some natural impulse like buds and blossoms in Spring. For something had been going on while the trees were still bare in winter; a preparation, invisible to the untrained eye. But this morning I'm starting from cold. My conscious… Continue reading Seeing a Pattern →

It’s a relief to come back here and write a post. I’ve endured weeks of “nothing to say”. Instead I pursued my latest book project, alluded to in the previous post, which has involved pruning, refining, selecting, truncating, rewriting—in short editing—what I’ve written over the last ten years. As a task it’s a long winding… Continue reading What to Do →

I write here to express my thoughts and it’s difficult because they branch out in all directions, and I struggle to find an organizing principle. My thought is a response to the interaction of myself with the rest of the world. It’s constantly dynamic, like the global weather system. If I manage to write anything… Continue reading The Organizing Power of Words →

Seen rightly, the blog must be one of the great inventions for raising literature to a higher level. Apart from offering instant publication without middle-man intervention, it opens itself to instant feedback from readers. It can be edited ad libitum. Unlike a periodical, it has no obligation to publish at any set interval, or at all.… Continue reading Reader-Friendly →

retrieved from ian.mulder.clara.net Home | Access Diary software for MS Access97, Access2000 Screenshot 1: pick any date - the day you were born, today, some day in the future, whatever Screenshot 2: you can select the font, its size, the ink colour, the window background colour Screenshot 3: you can set up appointments and reminders and you… Continue reading original version of diary software →

There was certainly something extraordinary about the way Karleen and I met, back in December 2003, on a site called AI: Africa Introductions. we each wrote a little about ourselves: no details, no photos. From there on, we communicated online by text only, thru Instant Messenger. Despite 6 hours difference in our time zones, despite… Continue reading The Story of Our Love →

Said CIngram, in a discussion of his recent post, Misunderstanding Evolution: I would be interested to hear your diatribe on teleology, if you still have the urge to produce one. Did I still have the urge? I wasn’t sure. I eventually responded: Yes, I feel that whatever dire accusations are fired by either side in… Continue reading Everything Desires →

Things are happening in hedgerow and pasture; a spate of fresh worm-casts; larks twittering; occasional sardonic comments by crows. A suddenly-surprised pheasant flaps away from me, going airborne in its panic, plumage bejewelled and voice like a rusty klaxon. Last year’s sunflower-heads, haggard and desiccated, stand witness to the kindness of supplying winter provender for… Continue reading Spring be my Muse →

I walked this morning through Old Amersham, attracted by the flag of St George on the church tower. I felt strong in myself. The beauty of this chilly, sunny morning uplifted me. I was not possessed by the necessities of life, not driven by problems and desires. The present moment was sunlight kissing old stones, well-pruned… Continue reading The Garden of Remembrance →

Excised from accompaniment When I practised as a therapist I would sometimes get frustrated at my patients’ use of the pronoun “I”. Despite being taught that the sense of self is composed of “head” and “body”, they couldn’t stop speaking from a head-mind which functioned in proud isolation, peopled with its own constructs. They often… Continue reading Head and Body →

I’ve agreed to help publicize DBA Lehane’s competition, which is to help publicize his website. I don’t normally do much to publicize anything. Perhaps I just want to show you my own entry. I’ve never written a short story before, never mind a short short one. It is exactly 500 words and the title had to… Continue reading Don’t be abashed →

Nothing posted here for a long time. I wanted to, but too busy. There was a time two years ago when I could book an hour at the internet café and write one straight off, but these days I convince myself I don’t have an hour to spare, and in any case a gushing torrent… Continue reading Angelic message? →

It’s the 6th of August 1962. I’m sitting on the steps outside the Duomo, Florence’s cathedral, trying to work out whether I’m a student, an ex-student or merely a tourist. I’ve recently arrived from Marseille, where I spent some weeks—I've no idea how many; and I have not yet located my fellow-students of Italian language… Continue reading David’s fig-leaf →

Faculty? I mean the university rather than the human kind. Well, both. Over at Hippocrates Got Lost, we were talking about hospital chaplains: ostensibly the conundrum of who should pay them. This has led to a discussion. We all agree that they help the patients get better, or give them palliative comfort. So this led to… Continue reading The Faculty of Wonder →

Years ago, before the public library in this town was cunningly pruned and restocked to reflect the scientifically-determined reading taste of the residents, it contained some quirky books that made a rainy-day visit into an exciting adventure. In the foreign languages section I found a novel by Pierre Boulle. I was astonished to discover he… Continue reading Sexual energy →

When this blog started, its title was “An Ongoing Experiment”, an idea reflected in its then url: “perpetual-lab.blogspot.com” . I didn’t know where it was going, but it has followed its nose like an unleashed dog on a trail of adventure. Any person or thing which has continuity in time acquires defining characteristics, and these… Continue reading Writing it down →

Please note that the Norfolk House story begins at “Nest of Dreams”, so I’ve numbered that “0”. Also that the mention of my “man-flu” affliction introducing yesterday’s piece was a warning that it would be rough. It’s edited extensively now. In “Nest of Dreams” I referred to awakening sexuality. A boy, especially if he has… Continue reading Norfolk House 2: vignettes →

This train to London goes quite smoothly. That’s the important thing, for it allows me to write legibly in this notebook: correction, would allow me to write legibly if I possessed that skill. Perhaps this trip will have a useful outcome: to provide some new pieces in the jigsaw puzzle of my existence. At present… Continue reading Train Scribbler →

. . . he uniformly adhered to this strange opinion, which his indolent disposition made him utter: ‘No man but a blockhead ever wrote, except for money.’ Numerous instances to refute this will occur to all who are versed in the history of literature. (Boswell) What would Dr Johnson think of us blogheads? “Blogheads not… Continue reading Dr Johnson and Blockheads →

In 1977 I won an essay competition, “Software in the Nineties” organised by Computer Weekly. The prize was presented by James Burke, a journalist and TV presenter specialising in the history of inventions. Afterwards I wrote to Stafford Beer, whose book Platform for Change I had recently read. Printed on paper of various colours, it included an… Continue reading Virtual Gardens →

Thursday, October 25, 2007 An ordinary valley For some months now, I’ve been drawn to the ordinary. I can’t exactly explain why. Perhaps something has rubbed off from walking the streets in Babylon Town and in this narrow valley. I live not far from little river which sneaks behind factories, workshops and the common dwellings… Continue reading from Blogger 2 →

updated on 6th December 2024 In an “utterly insane world ruled by a capricious and indifferent deity”*, the only thing we can keep swept clean and fresh is our own doorstep. To follow our own conscience is a tragi-comic defiance of the gods. It is the Absurd, symbolised by Albert Camus in his Myth of… Continue reading Sacrifice and Conscience →

wayfaring.pdf

Around 1951, while I was at Merrion House Preparatory School at, I acquired this book. I never knew where my things came from. They might have been dropped off by my grandfather in his 1930s car. This one was mostly boring, told me things I had no context  for, but these pages were fascinating me:… Continue reading The Modern Encyclopaedia for Children →