SCOTTISH FOOTBALL (2)
Back in January, I said that Scottish football was rather dull, since the two Glasgow clubs, Rangers and Celtic, have had, and still have, an effective duopoly. Since then, it has become even duller.
Basically, Rangers went bust. It was a protracted affair, but that was the end result. A new club was formed out of the ashes, but under the rules of the system, it was not allowed to participate in the Scottish Premier League. It then applied to join the first division of the Scottish Football League, the next best tournament, whose winner gets access to the Premier League. The SFL said that Rangers could join, but only in the third division. Which means that Scotland's most successful football club won't get back to the SPL before August 2015 at the earliest.
Not surprisingly, in Rangers' absence Celtic are already top of the SPL, with a game in hand. Yawn.
Walter Blotscher
Sunday, 30 September 2012
Saturday, 29 September 2012
NORTHERN IRELAND
Today is the 100th anniversary of the signing of the Ulster Convenant, the document which ultimately led to the partition of the island of Ireland into north and south. During the nineteenth century, there was a growing recognition in mainland Britain that the governance of Ireland as - in effect - a colony was not tenable, and that some sort of devolved administration ("Home Rule" in the jargon) would need to be put in place. The leading proponent of Home Rule was the great Liberal Prime Minister William Gladstone. But his two attempts to find a solution foundered on the strength of the opposition from the Protestant north and their mainland supporters, notably in the House of Lords. In 1910, the general election resulted in a hung Parliament, so the Liberals did a deal; Parliamentary support from the (southern) Irish Parliamentary Party in return for a new Home Rule bill. Crucially, the deal also curtailed the powers of the House of Lords, which meant that they could only delay the bill, not kill it. Home Rule was scheduled to come into effect in 1914, a date that was then delayed by the outbreak of the First World War.
The Covenant was designed to show that whatever the politicians in Westminster chose to decide, Home Rule would not happen on the ground without a (literal) fight. Taking its inspiration from the Solemn League and Covenant taken by the Scots in 1638 prior to the Civil War, northern Protestants pledged to defend Ulster from Home Rule with "all means that may be found necessary". Hundreds of thousands signed up, in a very public demonstration. Six months later, in January 1913, the Ulster Volunteer Force was set up, a Protestant militia that armed itself with guns and ammunition smuggled in from Germany.
The events and aftermath of the First World War demonstrated that London had lost control of the situation. Shaken by northern resistance, the Government quietly offered Ulster an opt-out from Home Rule, thereby effectively killing it. Then the south of Ireland rebelled, and eventually gained independence. By 1921 the partition of Ireland was a reality.
Although Northern Ireland is part of the country of which I am a citizen, I have never really understood it. It doesn't help that I have never been there; but to be honest, I have never really wanted to. It is essentially made up of two tribes, the original Catholic Irish, and the Protestant majority, descendants in the main of Scottish settlers in the sixteenth century; since I am neither tribal nor particularly religious, I find the structure and totems both odd and disturbing. The IRA assassinations and famous trials of the 1970's (the Guildford Four, the Birmingham Six) made a big impression on me as a teenager. However, although horrified by the random violence of the IRA, I was even more horrified by the sight on TV of the people who seemingly wanted to stay yoked to me, not least by the intense hatred they seemed to show all of the time, and which seemed to be etched into their faces.
Today's anniversary will be marked by a huge march in Belfast. Marches are Northern Ireland's peculiar trait, as reflected in the phrase the summer "marching season". As is normal, this special march will pass at least one Catholic church, a potential flashpoint. The police will be out in huge force to try to ensure that there is no violence. As I say, this is Northern Ireland, and I don't understand it.
Walter Blotscher
Today is the 100th anniversary of the signing of the Ulster Convenant, the document which ultimately led to the partition of the island of Ireland into north and south. During the nineteenth century, there was a growing recognition in mainland Britain that the governance of Ireland as - in effect - a colony was not tenable, and that some sort of devolved administration ("Home Rule" in the jargon) would need to be put in place. The leading proponent of Home Rule was the great Liberal Prime Minister William Gladstone. But his two attempts to find a solution foundered on the strength of the opposition from the Protestant north and their mainland supporters, notably in the House of Lords. In 1910, the general election resulted in a hung Parliament, so the Liberals did a deal; Parliamentary support from the (southern) Irish Parliamentary Party in return for a new Home Rule bill. Crucially, the deal also curtailed the powers of the House of Lords, which meant that they could only delay the bill, not kill it. Home Rule was scheduled to come into effect in 1914, a date that was then delayed by the outbreak of the First World War.
The Covenant was designed to show that whatever the politicians in Westminster chose to decide, Home Rule would not happen on the ground without a (literal) fight. Taking its inspiration from the Solemn League and Covenant taken by the Scots in 1638 prior to the Civil War, northern Protestants pledged to defend Ulster from Home Rule with "all means that may be found necessary". Hundreds of thousands signed up, in a very public demonstration. Six months later, in January 1913, the Ulster Volunteer Force was set up, a Protestant militia that armed itself with guns and ammunition smuggled in from Germany.
The events and aftermath of the First World War demonstrated that London had lost control of the situation. Shaken by northern resistance, the Government quietly offered Ulster an opt-out from Home Rule, thereby effectively killing it. Then the south of Ireland rebelled, and eventually gained independence. By 1921 the partition of Ireland was a reality.
Although Northern Ireland is part of the country of which I am a citizen, I have never really understood it. It doesn't help that I have never been there; but to be honest, I have never really wanted to. It is essentially made up of two tribes, the original Catholic Irish, and the Protestant majority, descendants in the main of Scottish settlers in the sixteenth century; since I am neither tribal nor particularly religious, I find the structure and totems both odd and disturbing. The IRA assassinations and famous trials of the 1970's (the Guildford Four, the Birmingham Six) made a big impression on me as a teenager. However, although horrified by the random violence of the IRA, I was even more horrified by the sight on TV of the people who seemingly wanted to stay yoked to me, not least by the intense hatred they seemed to show all of the time, and which seemed to be etched into their faces.
Today's anniversary will be marked by a huge march in Belfast. Marches are Northern Ireland's peculiar trait, as reflected in the phrase the summer "marching season". As is normal, this special march will pass at least one Catholic church, a potential flashpoint. The police will be out in huge force to try to ensure that there is no violence. As I say, this is Northern Ireland, and I don't understand it.
Walter Blotscher
Friday, 28 September 2012
THE COMMON COLD
The common cold is a generic name given to around 200 viruses which can affect the human upper respiratory tract, and which all have similar symptoms; sore throat, cough, runny nose, sneezing and so on. They are typically transmitted via airborne droplets, which is why particular close proximity groups such as school classes tend to get them at the same time. Adults typically get a cold up to half a dozen times a year, children more often.
Being viruses, antibiotics do not have any effect on colds (though they may ameliorate some of the symptoms). Beating them requires the body's immune system to get going, which is why colds have at times in history wreaked havoc on populations with no immunity (eg eskimos exposed to European explorers). Weather conditions play a role; but that is because some of the viruses are more prevalent in cold, wet weather, not because cold, wet weather weakens your immune system.
Colds are often confused with influenza, which produces similar symptoms, though in a more severe form. Yet flu is caused by a different set of viruses, which tend to be more virulent and much more likely to result in death. Asian bird flu is the big worry at the moment; though the biggest pandemic was probably the Spanish flu outbreak in 1918-20, which is widely held to have killed more people than the First World War (i.e. a lot). People at risk such as the elderly can get flu jabs; but they only vaccinate against known strains, and these mutate all the time.
The reason I am musing about all of this is that I am currently in the middle of my first cold of 2012, which happens to be quite a severe one. Not severe enough to stop me blogging, but close.
Walter Blotscher
The common cold is a generic name given to around 200 viruses which can affect the human upper respiratory tract, and which all have similar symptoms; sore throat, cough, runny nose, sneezing and so on. They are typically transmitted via airborne droplets, which is why particular close proximity groups such as school classes tend to get them at the same time. Adults typically get a cold up to half a dozen times a year, children more often.
Being viruses, antibiotics do not have any effect on colds (though they may ameliorate some of the symptoms). Beating them requires the body's immune system to get going, which is why colds have at times in history wreaked havoc on populations with no immunity (eg eskimos exposed to European explorers). Weather conditions play a role; but that is because some of the viruses are more prevalent in cold, wet weather, not because cold, wet weather weakens your immune system.
Colds are often confused with influenza, which produces similar symptoms, though in a more severe form. Yet flu is caused by a different set of viruses, which tend to be more virulent and much more likely to result in death. Asian bird flu is the big worry at the moment; though the biggest pandemic was probably the Spanish flu outbreak in 1918-20, which is widely held to have killed more people than the First World War (i.e. a lot). People at risk such as the elderly can get flu jabs; but they only vaccinate against known strains, and these mutate all the time.
The reason I am musing about all of this is that I am currently in the middle of my first cold of 2012, which happens to be quite a severe one. Not severe enough to stop me blogging, but close.
Walter Blotscher
Thursday, 27 September 2012
BAH HUMBUG
A regular reader of mine used the phrase "bah humbug" in connection with some of my posts. So I looked up what it meant.
The consensus seems to be that is a phrase from Charles Dickens' book "A Christmas Carol". Ebenezer Scrooge says it about things he thought were nonsense or worthless. So my reader is saying that I write posts about things that I think are nonsense or worthless. Like popcorn yesterday.
He also suggested that I was getting as grumpy as Mr. Scrooge about these humbug things. Mm, perhaps I am.
All I need now is for this blog to become as literarily famous as Dickens' novels, and the analogy will be perfect!
Walter Blotscher
A regular reader of mine used the phrase "bah humbug" in connection with some of my posts. So I looked up what it meant.
The consensus seems to be that is a phrase from Charles Dickens' book "A Christmas Carol". Ebenezer Scrooge says it about things he thought were nonsense or worthless. So my reader is saying that I write posts about things that I think are nonsense or worthless. Like popcorn yesterday.
He also suggested that I was getting as grumpy as Mr. Scrooge about these humbug things. Mm, perhaps I am.
All I need now is for this blog to become as literarily famous as Dickens' novels, and the analogy will be perfect!
Walter Blotscher
Wednesday, 26 September 2012
POPCORN
I dislike popcorn. True, I eat it when it's there, but I always look down on myself when I do. It's incredibly more-ish, but it tastes pretty much like salted cardboard. I never ever have it with that gunky stuff they serve it up with in America, which is just gross.
The other problem with it is that it just doesn't go with children; which is odd, since children are the main consumers of it. What I mean is that the relationship of popcorn to children is governed by the iron law children + popcorn = one big mess on the floor. Apparently it is impossible for a box of popcorn to move in its entirety from its container to the inside of a child's mouth.
I was reminded of this again today when I was up in the cinema. We had 31 children to watch the new Disney film Brave last night; today, the auditorium looked a mess. As I say, it's an iron law.
Walter Blotscher
I dislike popcorn. True, I eat it when it's there, but I always look down on myself when I do. It's incredibly more-ish, but it tastes pretty much like salted cardboard. I never ever have it with that gunky stuff they serve it up with in America, which is just gross.
The other problem with it is that it just doesn't go with children; which is odd, since children are the main consumers of it. What I mean is that the relationship of popcorn to children is governed by the iron law children + popcorn = one big mess on the floor. Apparently it is impossible for a box of popcorn to move in its entirety from its container to the inside of a child's mouth.
I was reminded of this again today when I was up in the cinema. We had 31 children to watch the new Disney film Brave last night; today, the auditorium looked a mess. As I say, it's an iron law.
Walter Blotscher
Tuesday, 25 September 2012
CARDINALS
The word cardinal comes from the Latin cardo, the name given for a wedge put in between timbers. Cardinals thus were originally exceptionally able or useful priests, whom the Pope used as fixers to bypass the normal structures of the early Church. They got their big break in 1059, when Pope Nicholas II decreed that Popes should henceforth be elected only by the College of Cardinals. The traditional appointment of Popes by "the people and clergy of Rome" had exposed the office to the whims of local politics; or, even worse, the views of the Holy Roman Emperor. Nicholas' decision was an attempt to free the Papacy from external control, and he was greatly helped by the fact that the new Emperor, Henry IV, was a child at the time. The history of the following millennium shows that Papal independence was not always successful; yet it remains the case today that the Pope is chosen by the Cardinals, and that if you want to have any real chance of becoming Pope, then you have to get appointed as a Cardinal first.
Reflecting the origin of the word, Cardinals are still nominally priests or bishops of the various churches or dioceses in or around Rome, even though they are really living and working somewhere else. Most Cardinals are now either archbishops or senior administrators in the Curia, the Vatican civil service. However, being an archbishop doesn't guarantee you a Cardinal's hat. The current Archbishop of Westminster, head of the Catholic church in England, is not yet a Cardinal, but he will almost certainly become one in due course.
When a Pope dies, the Cardinals meet in conclave in order to choose his successor; though nowadays, only those under 80 years old are allowed to vote. Basically, they are locked away, voting inside the Sistine Chapel, and are not allowed out until a choice has been made, which requires a two thirds majority. The choice is signalled by sending white smoke up the chimney of the building to the faithful waiting outside in St. Peter's Square.
In this democratic age, the method for choosing the leader of a billion or so Christians seems rather bizarre (no women involved in any part of the process, for instance). Despite that, I have a bit of a soft spot for the Cardinals. The place where I did my university studies was founded by Henry VIII's able administrator Cardinal Wolsey, and was originally called Cardinal College. A fact reflected in the Cardinal's hat motif on the college tie.
Walter Blotscher
The word cardinal comes from the Latin cardo, the name given for a wedge put in between timbers. Cardinals thus were originally exceptionally able or useful priests, whom the Pope used as fixers to bypass the normal structures of the early Church. They got their big break in 1059, when Pope Nicholas II decreed that Popes should henceforth be elected only by the College of Cardinals. The traditional appointment of Popes by "the people and clergy of Rome" had exposed the office to the whims of local politics; or, even worse, the views of the Holy Roman Emperor. Nicholas' decision was an attempt to free the Papacy from external control, and he was greatly helped by the fact that the new Emperor, Henry IV, was a child at the time. The history of the following millennium shows that Papal independence was not always successful; yet it remains the case today that the Pope is chosen by the Cardinals, and that if you want to have any real chance of becoming Pope, then you have to get appointed as a Cardinal first.
Reflecting the origin of the word, Cardinals are still nominally priests or bishops of the various churches or dioceses in or around Rome, even though they are really living and working somewhere else. Most Cardinals are now either archbishops or senior administrators in the Curia, the Vatican civil service. However, being an archbishop doesn't guarantee you a Cardinal's hat. The current Archbishop of Westminster, head of the Catholic church in England, is not yet a Cardinal, but he will almost certainly become one in due course.
When a Pope dies, the Cardinals meet in conclave in order to choose his successor; though nowadays, only those under 80 years old are allowed to vote. Basically, they are locked away, voting inside the Sistine Chapel, and are not allowed out until a choice has been made, which requires a two thirds majority. The choice is signalled by sending white smoke up the chimney of the building to the faithful waiting outside in St. Peter's Square.
In this democratic age, the method for choosing the leader of a billion or so Christians seems rather bizarre (no women involved in any part of the process, for instance). Despite that, I have a bit of a soft spot for the Cardinals. The place where I did my university studies was founded by Henry VIII's able administrator Cardinal Wolsey, and was originally called Cardinal College. A fact reflected in the Cardinal's hat motif on the college tie.
Walter Blotscher
Monday, 24 September 2012
WINTER HOBBIES (2)
It's September and it's Denmark, so it's starting to get cold and miserable (I know, since I have just emptied the rubbish into a howling gale). It's also time for winter hobbies to start up again; for me, badminton on Mondays, bridge on Tuesdays.
This year we started bang on time, on 3 September and 4 September respectively. We could have started in August; but as I said before, it's just not done. I still haven't worked out why, and nobody is telling me.
Two of my three badminton partners have had solar panels installed on their roofs, so they get free electricity and even make a bit on the side selling the surplus back to the grid. The post-match beer is an opportunity to compare notes, so I expect I will be hearing more on the intricacies of monochrystal panels in about two hours' time.
Walter Blotscher
It's September and it's Denmark, so it's starting to get cold and miserable (I know, since I have just emptied the rubbish into a howling gale). It's also time for winter hobbies to start up again; for me, badminton on Mondays, bridge on Tuesdays.
This year we started bang on time, on 3 September and 4 September respectively. We could have started in August; but as I said before, it's just not done. I still haven't worked out why, and nobody is telling me.
Two of my three badminton partners have had solar panels installed on their roofs, so they get free electricity and even make a bit on the side selling the surplus back to the grid. The post-match beer is an opportunity to compare notes, so I expect I will be hearing more on the intricacies of monochrystal panels in about two hours' time.
Walter Blotscher
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