Pied Reality

'Pied Beauty' by Gerard Manley Hopkins is number 727 in the New Oxford Book of English Verse. It is a hymn to all things pied - pied meaning coloured alternately in large areas, as the Texas Paint horse is red and white.
The Pied Piper, for example, is so-called because:
"His queer long coat from heel to head,
Was half of yellow and half of red".

'Pied Beauty' is a fine example of the 'sprung rhythm' of that counter, original, spare, strange poet. Also distinctive of Hopkins, it is a flawed masterpiece.

Glory be to God for dappled things –
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches' wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced – fold, fallow, and plough;
And all trades, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise Him.

I much admire Hopkins' poem, but I doubt couple-colours always glorify a creator, as he thought.

Consider the Pied Corvids.
I have a visceral loathing of magpies. It runs in the family: my father taught it me; my cousin has it even worse than I do.

Pica pica, the European magpie. Handsome birds, pied black and white, with a long tail. In Shakespeare they are simply pies, the mag came later.
Pica is the Latin name, probably sharing a derivation with the Greek κισσα or κιττα.
So my loathing might be dismissed as kissaphobia, but I would protest. A phobia is an irrational fear or dislike; my aversion to magpies has rational roots.

Magpies raid the nests of other birds: they are egg-thieves. That's bad enough, but pecking the eyes of nestlings is the habit which condemns them. No-one can forgive magpies after seeing a blood-stained robin's nest of cold, dead, eyeless nestlings; or worse, bleeding, squirming nestlings, still alive.
"Cruel", my father would say; "Cruel, that's what they are; they peck but don't eat; they are wicked".

Regrettably, magpies are now multiplying in suburban gardens, including mine, scavenging waste or taking food put out for other birds. This is very bad news for the song-birds and the other welcome visitors to our gardens.
It's time to get a magpie trap - a simple wire cage with a trap-door. Put in a mirror, because magpies are attracted to their own reflection. Then remember the nestlings, put on leather gloves [they are vicious peckers], kill instantly by a sharp twist and pull to the neck; show them what mercy is.

Theses thoughts come after my visit to Wisley Gardens yesterday. My reverie in the Pinetum was disturbed by the devilish chuckles of a pair of magpies, strutting amid a mass of dwarf Cyclamen, in glorious flower under the trees. It was as if a cloud had darkened the sun.
Et in Arcadia ego.

Pica is the medical term for depraved appetite - eating dirt, or stones, or other items. It is said to be named for the magpie's omnivory. I recall a young pregnant woman who caused alarm by sucking pieces of coal [she came to no harm]. Then there was the elderly man referred from the psychiatric hospital because he had lost weight. He had a large hard mass in the abdomen. At endoscopy the stomach was full of stones. They had to be removed surgically.
A colleague had an endoscopic picture from another patient. Among the coins, bits of twig, a key and other things was a fresh packet of Rizla cigarette papers.
That's pica, but I digress. I have another example.

Orcinus orca, the killer whale, is another black and white pied predator with a vicious, cruel nature. Two video sequences from the BBC Natural History Unit come to mind.
The first follows a pod of Orcas hunting the calf of a Grey Whale, off the coast of California. Relentlessly they harass mother and calf, trying to separate them. Eventually the exhausted, bitten calf can swim no more. The pod go into a feeding frenzy, tearing out the tongue of the calf, leaving the rest of the carcass to sink into the depths.
The second is the stuff of nightmare. Sea-lion cubs are playing in the surf. Suddenly a huge black and white shape surges up the beach, seizes a cub, then shuffles back into deeper water. Out in the bay, the cub becomes a toy, still alive. The Orca uses its tail to bat the cub high in the air. When it falls back its tormenter hunts it down and repeats the game. Eventually, I suppose, the cub is eaten, a release from this horrifying ordeal. Extraordinary behaviour; unpardonable cruelty.

Those who argue that altruism proves the existence of God must also justify cruelty: the ugliest of vices, in man and nature.

The Razor's Edge and Rhazes

After writing yesterday about two realisations of Christianity, I remembered the following passages from 'The Razor's Edge', by Somerset Maugham, a writer I admire greatly.

First he tells this story.

" Do you remember how Jesus was led into the wilderness and fasted forty days? Then, when he was a-hungered, the devil came to him and said: If thou be the son of God, command these stones be made bread. But Jesus resisted the temptation.
Then the devil set him on a pinnacle of the temple and said to him: If thou be the son of God, cast thyself down. For angels had charge of him and would bear him up. But again Jesus resisted.
Then the devil took him into a high mountain and showed him the kingdoms of the world and said that he would give them to him if he would fall down and worship him. But Jesus said: Get thee hence, Satan.

That's the end of the story according to the good simple Matthew. But it wasn't.

The devil was sly and he came to Jesus once more and said: If thou wilt accept shame and disgrace, scourging, a crown of thorns and death on the cross, thou shalt save the human race, for greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. Jesus fell.
The devil laughed till his sides ached, for he knew the evil men would commit in the name of their redeemer."

Then, a few paragraphs later, he reflects.

"I diverted myself idly with the idea that had sprung so unexpectedly into my mind. I played with it.
I couldn't but surmise that the devil, looking at the cruel wars that Christianity has occasioned, the persecutions, the tortures that Christian has inflicted on Christian, the unkindness, the hypocrisy, the intolerance, must consider the balance sheet with complacency.
And when he remembers that it has laid upon mankind the bitter burden of the sense of sin that has darkened the beauty of the starry night and cast a baleful shadow on the passing pleasures of a world to be enjoyed, he must chuckle as he murmurs: Give the devil his due."

I remembered too the supreme wisdom attributed to Rhazes - Muhammad ibn Zakaria Al-Razi - that great tenth century physician in Baghdad.

Human reason and experience alone give reliable knowledge;
The way of philosophy is open to all abuses;
Claims of divine revelation are false;
Religions are dangerous.

Maugham surely expands Rhazes' fourth point.

Greeks and Scots

My new grand-daughter boasts mixed ancestry. Her father's mother is Scottish; her father's father is English; her mother's parents are Greek. The English part I know: consider the Scottish and Greek.

Scotland and Greece are both mountainous, with numerous islands and sea inlets - lochs and kolpoi. Scotland is the extreme north-west of Europe [excluding Iceland]; Greece is the extreme south-east. Both have a history of isolated communities quarrelling - Scottish clans in their glens, Greeks in city-states.
Both have suffered conflict with neighbours.
Climatically they have little in common. Scotland is exposed to the north atlantic, with complex weather formations bringing wind and rain in abundance. Greece enjoys a more settled Mediterranean climate, with intrusions of cold from central Asia.
Unexpectedly, oats are an important crop in both countries.

Geographically similar maybe, but in religion the two countries are close to the opposing ends of the spectrum of Christianity; and religion is the most powerful determinant of culture.

Greek Orthodoxy is close to the original Christianity, as it developed in the first centuries after Christ. The New Testament is written in Greek; the early development of Christian theology was conducted in Greek; and many Christian rituals and festivals have Greek origins.
Orthodoxy is Christianity as institution. Its churches, its hierarchy and its liturgy exist and continue in their own right, a glimpse of paradise on earth, serving the people as the church decrees. It preserves traditions going back nearly two millennia; venerating saints and ikons, vestments and incense; fostering poetry, music, art.
It's a religion of reassurance and release. Sins are forgiven, doubts passed over: attend, commit, and the priests will make all well.
Zeus may have been knocked from Olympos, but Athena, Demeter and Aphrodite are still influential.
Bread, wine and oil are its most important symbols. It is extensive and inclusive.
[Divisions in Orthodoxy are more national than doctrinal.]

Dostoevsky's Grand Inquisitor defends the church as institution: it offers the magic, mystery and authority which simple believers crave. This argument may prevail even in the land of Hippocrates, Socrates, Aristotle, and Euclid.

Scotland is the birthplace of Presbyterianism. Calvin taught Knox, and Knox blew his trumpet in Scotland.
Presbyterianism is Christianity as community of the faithful. The individual's faith is founded on scripture, to which there is free and open access; no priest intervenes between believer, bible and God. There is no hierarchy: the church is governed by 'elders', some of whom are necessarily professional ministers. Ministers conduct services of worship, teach, and advise. Like physicians, they have no authority.
Presbyterianism is an austere, personal religion, striving to realise the teachings of Jesus; intellectual, suspicious of dogma, stressing the symbolism of ritual, denying magic. Its churches are undecorated.
It is a religion of duty and admonition. Sin and guilt burden us all; each must work out a personal salvation, correct in every detail. That is difficult, many will fail.
It's a tough religion, intense like the whisky of its homeland. It has an exclusive tendency, manifest by its many schisms. Perm the adjectives free, reformed, united and presbyterian before church; you'll probably find it exists or has existed.
Presbyterians and Orthodox share a profound aversion to Roman Catholicism.

The Presbyterians stress freedom in faith, and personal responsibility.
The Grand Inquisitor concedes Jesus offers these, but argues they place a burden on humanity which most cannot bear. He didn't know the Scots.

I favour opinions which are kataphusin, according to natural reality. I have little respect for opinions katabiblion, according to scripture. Still, after 70 the issues raised by religion become more pressing, so my interest in Christianity increases.
Were I to embrace religion, my head tells me I should become presbyterian; but I admit a deeper attraction to Orthodoxy. I am in awe of its ancient heritage, the subtleties and euphony of its language, the glories of its buildings and liturgies. Beauty is seductive, and inspiring.
After all, such a move into religion would be to admit that life is too short for pure kataphusin. Life's biggest questions demand some sort of answer; so dump the doubts, only believe, accept mystery and authority - maybe even the magic. Enjoy the securities and comforts of Faith.

As the Old Dominie said:
"Alone at nights, I read my Bible more and Euclid less".

Arithmetic on the Frontier

They call it asymmetric war: limited high-tech. versus abundant low-tech. Afghanistan was always the prime example. How can a militia of mostly illiterate peasants defeat a Western combat group heavily armed with the latest equipment?

It's easier than you might expect. Never confront the enemy: he wants to bring you to battle, where his advantage is overwhelming. Harass constantly, killing at every opportunity: casualty reports in the Western media are a powerful weapon. Hide among your own women and children, wear civilian clothes: civilian casualties spread shame and guilt, enrage your allies in the enemy country, and rich will be their reward from Allah.

Live in a mountainous country; he cannot match your local knowledge.

Persist, allow no conclusion, let his much greater costs wear him down, over as many years as may prove necessary.

The Brits. have forgotten Kipling's 'Arithmetic of the Frontier'. Let them learn again bitter lessons in the toughest of schools.

Here's one simple tactic for your Jihad, potentially very profitable in several ways.

Ammonium nitrate, NH4.NO3, is a common agricultural fertilizer, produced industrially in thousands of tons annually.

NH4 is nitrogen carrying hydrogen: NO3 is nitrogen carrying oxygen. Ammonium nitrate is set for intra-molecular combustion:

NH4.NO3 ---> N2 + 2H2O + O

The products are nitrogen gas, water and atomic oxygen. Nitrogen and water are stable, low energy compounds: this reaction is exothermic, releasing the energy used in manufacture. It also converts solid ammonium nitrate to nitrogen and water gases: a huge volume expansion. 1 kilogram of solid has the potential to deliver more than 768 litres of hot gas in a fraction of a second.

But there is also oxygen, in an activated form. Mix in something combustible and finely divided to react and remove the oxygen - flour, say - and you will release a lot more energy - and carbon dioxide gas.

If possible, contain the mix in a metal drum, to hold the mass together long enough for the reaction to near completion. It's not high explosive, but there's still a lot of bang for your Afghani buck.

Add a simple detonator, maybe a small quantity of high explosive, and you have a cheap, crude but effective bomb. You can make up in weight what you lack in punch.

Bury a 50-100 Kg bomb in a dirt road; pack it round with stones to carry the blast; sweep sand over it. Run the detonator wires to a concealed view-point, and you have an ambush.

Total cost is a few ounces of crude opium.

The Taliban know this. They also know the human, political, and monetary value of their targets.

Consider their latest successful ambush, the cost to us, the profit to them.

Three of our finest soldiers killed, a fourth gravely injured, probably mutilated and disabled for life. Families devastated, widows and orphans to be supported.

Our media publicise our losses, stressing the suffering, questioning why are we there, degrading public morale and will to continue the campaign. The politicians have to respond.

Each soldier represents an investment of many thousands of pounds in training and deployment. Each injured and disabled soldier will cost millions in evacuation, treatment, rehabilitation, and support.

Deploying the Jackal patrol vehicle and associated kit will leave little change from half a million. It carries weapons, notably a heavy machine gun. Capture that, and your next target is a Chinook helicopter. There is more valuable loot in the wreck - guns, grenades, and radios; not to mention 'prestige' loot - helmets, uniforms, boots, classy sunglasses, ipods.

To what purpose are these losses? To make a safe world for the Karzai clan? To create a free, democratic Afghanistan, prospering by honest toil, not by heroin? To secure full human rights for women, homosexuals, and other victim groups?

Get real.

The odds are still on the cheaper man.

Our Prime Minister says there is a chain of terror from Afghanistan to the streets of Britain. So would we be squandering lives, wealth and honour in Afghanistan if there were no mosques, mullahs, muftis and muslims here?

That question is now 'crime-think'. NewLabourSpeak forbids such talk. I had better shut up.