"Blowing the Shofar" by Seymour Fogel (1944) It's been a while since I had a good old fashioned poetic rant, but here is one, prompted by the ludicrous events in the BBC in the past week, yesterday's lectionary readings and this image which I shared on social media as one of my #LentArt posts inspired by those readings. It’s time to put away the whistles And blow the shofar instead, To rouse us from our complacency, Our complicity in the coming catastrophe. We inherited not just a land But a globe filled with promise; A fecund cornucopia capable of meeting all our needs and more. But more and more is what Was wanted by fewer and fewer. Abundance of milk and honey inducing Lactose intolerance and diabetes. We fiddle while the world burns, Yet the poor go cold, hungry, and thirsty With water tainted by sewage or salt As profits and sea-levels rise. And some, driven from their homes By the encroaching oceans and deserts And the conflicts that they cause Seek a land of
On Valentine's Day my wonderful wife gave me a card. This was unusual. Not just because we don't usually do Valentine's Day stuff, but because in it was the promise of an overnight in Stratford on Avon to see the RSC production of the Tempest which ends tonight. She had conspired with my PA to reschedule my meetings and spirit me away for 36 hours on Thursday and Friday of this week as a wee pick-me-up. We usually head off for a day or two at least the week after the 4 Corners Festival, but that wasn't possible this year because I had some work meetings and deadlines that week, and Sally had to go visit her mum in Scotland. So this little sojourn was very welcome. Doubly so because it was a surprise. Trebly so because The Tempest was the first Shakespeare play I ever performed in, nearly 43 years ago, and so it holds a special place in my heart, despite being one of the Bard's less accessible pieces. I deliberately didn't read any of the reviews of the show once