Apologies For Absence

I have been away from this blog for a few weeks. I apologise. The world has been in a catastrophic mess. It still is. It has not really seemed that I can add anything to the commentary on Trump's war in Iran. By calling it Trump's war I am probably doing a disservice to Netanyahu. Hey ho. I will say only this: this war has been prosecuted on a vainglorious whim boosted by a misunderstood Zionist zeal; the Americans have not come even close to articulating a proper reason for their attack; Iran is a crazed theocracy but the way to deal with it is not Operation Epic Fury.

Enough of such things. Reasons to be cheerful, one, two, three. Last week BH, MS and RW were kind enough to let me join the Appleby Renegade Tour, a golfing trip of sheer fun. The history would bore you, suffice to say that Appleby was the venue for the early QMT golf tours - I have blogged about that before and, as I always say, it's a long story so I won't weary you with it.

Immodestly I have to relate that the Pig won the golf. Not through any great competence but by sheer obduracy. Enough of that. The courses. First up was Bentham, comprised of nine old holes and nine newer. I'm glad to say you could not really see the join. The Pig got the tour off to an inauspicious start by blasting two out of bounds from the first tee - thereafter a degree of sanity and good fortune came to his rescue.      

A god meal and a few pints were followed by a goodish night's sleep (I'm not as good as I used to be with an unfamiliar bed) and we even went for a walk around Appleby on the second morning before our afternoon outing at Appleby Golf Club. I had played Appleby twice before and thought it adequate. I was wrong - this is a fine golf course on wild moorland. We played through a blessedly short but biblical storm and under high winds. I should also record that the Pig produced an improbable clearance break of twenty-two to clinch a frame on the clubhouse snooker table. Great moments in sport.

More food. More beer. Another truncated night's sleep and then an early start on the journey home. We broke the journey at Breadsall Priory which is where QMT Tour is to be held in June. Very much a hotel/resort set-up with two courses. We played the Priory course. A perfectly decent lay-out but very hilly. Not remotely as memorable as Appleby but a good end to the trip. I slept well back at home and woke as stiff as a board. I was till sore on Sunday morning but dragged myself out for a thirty minute run and that made me feel much better. You're not getting any younger Pig but rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Advent 13

Volume 13 (Jerez to Libe): Jews

I promise you I'm not doing this on purpose. I don't look at the volume of the encyclopaedia until the evening before the day in question - the one exception to that will be the final entry on Christmas Eve. That is planned, but even in that case the text will only be scripted on the day itself.

I have dear friends who are Jewish. Equally, I have encountered confrontational and mean Jews. I can say the same of most races and creeds, not least the Catholic faith to whose elegant wreckage I cling. At this point in history it is the case of Israel that most concerns. Last month that stupefyingly self-regarding institution the Oxford Union staged a debate around the proposition, 'This house believes Israel is an apartheid state responsible for genocide'. The proposition passed by a substantial majority. Cue the understandable cries of protest at the ant-semitism wrapped around the debate and its pre-destined verdict. 

Of course I've never met the man (just as I have never met Trump) but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't take to Benjamin Netanyahu. I am entitled to reach this conclusion - the man has put himself on the world stage and his actions have implications for the multi-racial land I live in. I am also clear that I have no truck with radical Islam (in its many factions) and its resolve that Israel has no place on the world map. If pressed, I am a Zionist and believe in a two-state solution. This simple conclusion is, I accept, about as much use as a chocolate teapot. There can only be prayer and reason.

The Oxford Union has been down this road before. Consider one of the speecehes made in 2008 in suppport of a motion that 'This house believes that the State of Israel has the right to exist':  Zionism and Neo-Zionism . This elegant argument offers intellectual cover for the two-state solution. But consider this - if you research a little deeper you find that the maker of the speech got so aggravated by the conduct of his own side that he crossed the floor of the debate and voted against the motion. Anyway, and as we say at the best point in the Catholic mass, peace be with you.

Grumbling And Some Antidotes

I'll tell you what is true: Donald Trump is an idiot with peculiar skills; Jeremy Corbyn is an anti-semite but is so far lost in his wretchedness that he has no access to self-knowledge; criticism of the state of Israel is not per se racist; the Brexit process descends daily into a less and less amusing mess; I'm struggling to think of a current public figure who fills me with confidence. It's not just today that I feel all of these things - a little cloud of reflective misery follows me most of the time.

an antidote

Antidotes: I played golf at Cavendish Golf Club with my great mate Big Willy Mac last week and it seemed that God was in his Heaven and all was well in the world, most particularly as I parred the eighteenth before retiring to the bar for a Guinness and a bowl of chips; the next day I played twilight golf at Pype Hayes with three old rugby buddies - once again there was Guinness but no chips this time; Daughters Numbered One and Two are both home for the weekend so my family are all to hand; we had a curry last night and then watched Rain Man, a good film but not a great one - 7/10.

multiple antidotes

Life's been good to me so far.