The spectacle of the mass protests against the official results of the Iranian election astonishes and baffles.
Thousands have taken to the streets to declare register their disgust at a result they consider implausible.
This takes place two decades after the Tiananmen Square massacres and the fall of the Berlin Wall. Will it result in horrendous bloodshed or a breakthrough for freedom in the Middle East?
The protests immediately confront the West – and President Barack Obama in particular – with a dilemma which would furrow the brow of any grandee on Mount Rushmore.
Traditional rules of diplomacy dictate that a country’s actions should be determined by national interest.
This was exemplified by the Nixon White House’s decision to open relations with China. Yes, it was a Communist state and Mao-tse-tung’s Cultural Revolution had led to the deaths of some two million people, but it was in America’s interest to have formal relations with a future economic superpower.
Advocates of such strategies argue it led to China’s slow adoption of market capitalism which has lifted millions out of poverty.
In the present day, Britain’s dealings with Saudi Arabia follow similar principles. We do not harangue the regime about human rights; we need their oil and London and Riyadh face a common threat from Al Qaeda.
On June 11 this year the “roll out” ceremony for the first two Typhoon aircraft constructed for the Royal Saudi Air Force was held at BAE’s Warton site. A total of 72 Typhoons will be supplied.
As Labour minister Bill Rammell said: “The Royal Saudi Air Force is getting a fantastic aircraft... The industrial benefits of the project are also substantial for both nations and will help to sustain several thousand, skilled jobs in the UK and Saudi Arabia over the next 10 years.”
Saudi Arabia comes to the British negotiating table with a chequebook and the promise of stability. These two elements allow successive UK Government to strike lucrative deals.
The experiment in Iraq demonstrates what an unstable democracy in the Middle East looks like – and the shock of Hamas winning elections in Palestine proves that people can make choices which terrify the West.
From a cold, so-called “realist” perspective, the US and Britain’s primary goal concerning Iran is that it never gets a nuclear weapon and that it stops supporting Islamist militants.
If a convincingly elected leader – especially one who had greater respect for women and minority rights – pushed forward with a nuclear programme, this would transform the West’s headache into a raging migraine.
But the courage of the protestors who long for the rule of law and an end to corruption, repression and fear deserves a response. Just as we cannot ignore a famine in Africa, so we cannot turn a blind eye to the hunger for freedom.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Parklife
It is July in Wales, which does not mean that the sun will be shining. But the parks will be full of people starting fires.
I live five minutes walk away from Mack, a community of faith, hope and - this weekend - sausages.
Hurling an aerobie or just playing boules is an activity no Wii malarkey can match for easygoing delight.
One of the great challenges for modern men is finding a hat which will not prompt a citizen's arrest. Pete accomplishes this with aplomb.
James doesn't wear a hat, but he does have a beard which leads many people to ask if he is a direct descendant of Abraham Lincoln.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Vienna Days
Thirty years today, US President Jimmy Carter sat down with Soviet premier Leonid Brezhnev and the two men signed a treaty to rein in their respective capacities to end human life on earth through thermonuclear war.
It is easy to feel the glow of nostalgia when thinking about such a superpower love-in – and not only because this was a time when Sister Sledge were in the Top 10 with the original We Are Family.
It was an era when the leaders of armies who entertained ideas of wiping out one’s nation could be found in the diplomatic phone book and invited to a meet-up in Vienna.
At the 1979 summit, Brezhnev surprised his US counterpart with the words: “God will not forgive us if we fail.”
This invocation of the deity by the leader of a state synonymous in the mind of middle-America with militant atheism may have been a cannily calculated gesture of goodwill.
Few friendly hints that a rapprochement would be welcome come from Osama bin Laden, North Korea’s Kim Jong-il or Iran’s allegedly re-elected Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.
These are men you would not trust with a golf club, never mind a nuclear missile. North Korea has invented something which can make mountains shake, the Al Qaeda guru and his acolytes would love to possess a suitcase-ready warhead, and it seems a matter of time before Iran joins Pakistan, Israel and India in the nuclear club.
When dealing with Communist Russia on even the most frigid days of the Cold War it was reasonable to assume one’s Soviet interlocutor considered Mutually Assured Destruction was a bad thing.
The idea of a US President sitting across the negotiating table from bin Laden is ethically unconscionable, and is it possible to have a rational discussion with the North Korean and Iranian regimes?
In fact, would an amicable weekend in Vienna with such characters do anything to dilute their determination to gain nuclear missiles now that this is seen as the ultimate guarantor of state sovereignty?
As Thomas Friedman comments on the election controversy in Iran in the New York Times: “Israelis fear that if a moderate were to take over, it would not herald any real change in Iran, or its nuclear ambitions, but simply disguise it better.”
Is this the time for a post-imperial power like Britain to lead by example and get rid of its own wretched missiles?
Liberal Democrat leader Nick Clegg has been converted to the non-renewal of the £20bn Trident system; will the party go a step further and back nuclear disarmament?
We are in a difficult age when actions speak louder than words. We lack the ability to unilaterally disarm Tehran and Pyongpang through force or negotiation, but we can make a heck of a bold statement.
It is easy to feel the glow of nostalgia when thinking about such a superpower love-in – and not only because this was a time when Sister Sledge were in the Top 10 with the original We Are Family.
It was an era when the leaders of armies who entertained ideas of wiping out one’s nation could be found in the diplomatic phone book and invited to a meet-up in Vienna.
At the 1979 summit, Brezhnev surprised his US counterpart with the words: “God will not forgive us if we fail.”
This invocation of the deity by the leader of a state synonymous in the mind of middle-America with militant atheism may have been a cannily calculated gesture of goodwill.
Few friendly hints that a rapprochement would be welcome come from Osama bin Laden, North Korea’s Kim Jong-il or Iran’s allegedly re-elected Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.
These are men you would not trust with a golf club, never mind a nuclear missile. North Korea has invented something which can make mountains shake, the Al Qaeda guru and his acolytes would love to possess a suitcase-ready warhead, and it seems a matter of time before Iran joins Pakistan, Israel and India in the nuclear club.
When dealing with Communist Russia on even the most frigid days of the Cold War it was reasonable to assume one’s Soviet interlocutor considered Mutually Assured Destruction was a bad thing.
The idea of a US President sitting across the negotiating table from bin Laden is ethically unconscionable, and is it possible to have a rational discussion with the North Korean and Iranian regimes?
In fact, would an amicable weekend in Vienna with such characters do anything to dilute their determination to gain nuclear missiles now that this is seen as the ultimate guarantor of state sovereignty?
As Thomas Friedman comments on the election controversy in Iran in the New York Times: “Israelis fear that if a moderate were to take over, it would not herald any real change in Iran, or its nuclear ambitions, but simply disguise it better.”
Is this the time for a post-imperial power like Britain to lead by example and get rid of its own wretched missiles?
Liberal Democrat leader Nick Clegg has been converted to the non-renewal of the £20bn Trident system; will the party go a step further and back nuclear disarmament?
We are in a difficult age when actions speak louder than words. We lack the ability to unilaterally disarm Tehran and Pyongpang through force or negotiation, but we can make a heck of a bold statement.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
The Wedding of Caleb and Beverley
This has been one of the most joyful weekends in Wales since at least the 15th century. Two excellent friends were married and I had the privilege of saying some words.
This is the wedding of Caleb Woodbridge and Beverley Watling.
This is a moment in history.
Are you thrilled to be here?
I am.
We will remember this day for years.
Grandchildren not yet born will look at photos taken today.
This is a glorious collision of two fantastic people;
It is a happening engineered by the Almighty
And powered by love.
We are thrilled to be here.
A wedding like this
Is a day of holy joy
When the spheres of earth and heaven overlap
And the dancing beauty in the adventure of life shines
Caleb and Beverley have brought together
The people they love and cherish,
By whom they are loved and cherished.
And they have led us all today into the presence of
The Author of all that is good.
Long ago they asked him into their lives,
And now they do so again,
Together.
We rejoiced when we received their wedding invitation,
How much more will the great and giving God
Bless our two dear friends
Who have asked for his
Guidance and protection;
Presence and perfection.
Caleb and Beverley are rich in the gift of imagination.
And when fused with faith,
This allows them to see the deep reality
In which all of us live.
The equation at the heart of their universe is that the Creator God loves his creation;
That he sent his son to redeem those he loved;
And that the destiny of the cosmos is not
Disintegration
But rebirth and restoration.
God is love
And he gives birth to love.
Genesis tell us we are all
Made in the image of God.
What is this image?
It is the Father, Son and Spirit,
United in eternity,
Bonded in love,
Bringing healing to creation.
In every culture
The idea of marriage has awoken
Because our hearts pulse to the Trinity’s beat.
We want to join this dance
Experience this faithfulness,
This purpose,
And revel in such beauty.
In God -
The One who can paint both the rings of Saturn
And the wings of a butterfly -
We see a love and relationship we are designed to reflect.
But how?
The Bible points the way.
In words so easily misheard by ears
Clogged with the wax of the ego.
The Apostle Paul advised the first Christians in Ephesus:
“Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord.”
As to the Lord?
As to Jesus.
As to a man who loves you with all his heart.
As to a man who would swap the glory of heaven
To greet you in a garden.
As to a man who would cook you breakfast on a beach
And still your storms.
Is this not placing an impossible burden on the shoulders
Of even the greatest groom?
Is a bride who dares to hope that her husband
Might shine the qualities of her saviour
Not destined for disappointment?
Well,
She would be
If her husband depended on nothing but his own willpower
To achieve such a miracle.
But Scripture tells us
That God has
Predestined
Us
“[To] be conformed to the image of his Son,
In order that he might be the
Firstborn among many brothers.”
This is the destiny that God is working towards,
Regardless of what we might to do mess
Life up.
God can see a day
When we might know Jesus so well
And prize his friendship so dear
That we will have picked up his mannerisms
His priorities
His instincts
And his love,
So much
That people might think
We were family.
Today is a moment when family is extended.
The Woodbridges and the Watlings will be forever linked
By this outburst of love
And proclamation of commitment.
God is fashioning a new family,
Calling people from every corner of the planet.
In the worldwide church
Colours are blending,
Dialects are merging
And boundaries are crumbling
As God calls more people into his masterpiece.
God’s spirit has been at work in Caleb and Beverley for years.
They are already a force of blessing in our lives,
And God’s work of artistry in their lives is far from finished.
Submitting as to the Lord
Is submitting to a husband and lover
Who will obey God even if it costs him his life.
It is trusting completely
Someone who would lay down his life for you.
Who will weep with you at funerals
And declare his love at a wedding.
In these verses,
Paul continued:
“For the husband is the head of the wife
Even as Christ is the head of the church,
His body,
And is Himself its saviour.”
Jesus identifies with the men and women
Who fill this room
In such a delightful array of shapes and sizes.
He sees us,
Featherless, wingless, sub-angelic, 10-toed anarchistic homo sapiens,
Not as a strangely curious species
On an ordinary planet on the fringe of the universe
But as his body.
What must the angels have thought when they heard this for the first time?
The risen Jesus does not identify with the blazing supernovas
Or the thundering comets
Or the spiralling galaxies
But with us.
We can build him cathedrals
And carve him jewels
But it is to the men and women who make up
The church that he points across the centuries and constellations
And says with pride:
“That’s who I am”.
Paul says:
“In the same way
Husbands should love their wives as their own bodies.
He who loves his wife loves himself.
For no one ever hated his own flesh,
But nourishes and cherishes it,
Just as Christ does the church,
Because we are members of his body.”
Think how Christ loved the church.
He endured a birth in a stable,
The hatred of the establishment
And the scandal of a cross.
A husband is given the challenge
Of loving his wife
With the tender wisdom
And self-sacrificing passion
Of Christ.
This will involve self-denial
But it is not some crazy Spartan stunt
Like cold water baths
Or swapping chocolate for lentils.
It is a discipline which leads to joy.
The exercise of devotion to another person
Will uncover the treasures of love, peace, joy and hope
Among the pebbles of the domestic.
It is a chance to learn
To look at the world
Through eyes
Of a God of love.
He saw something so precious when he looked at us
That he sent his own son to save us.
These words in Ephesians are a manifesto of liberation.
A husband will never find happiness
If he seeks his identity
In the watch on his wrist
Rather than in the wife who holds his hand.
We are freed from the need to chase
Selfish ambition,
Fleeting wealth,
Lonely status,
And temporary prizes.
Instead,
God seems to shout from the pages of his book:
Go on!
Build your dreams around her.
Her delight will bring you delight.
Love her as if you know the world will be reborn.
Love her like you know days of joy are coming and good will win.
Love her in the wintertime
With the certainty
Of summer’s blaze.
Love her like you know
You will one day
Feel heaven’s rays.
In fact,
Can you feel it now?
This is eternal gold you are spinning
As you nourish and cherish this daughter of the king,
A princess of heaven
On the streets of Cardiff.
To identify with such beauty is a privilege and a joy.
Work worthy of a lifetime.
As Paul says in a moment of understatement:
“This mystery is profound”.
But as Proverbs 18:22 tells us:
"Whoever finds a wife finds a good thing and obtains favour of the Lord.”
Caleb,
You have found the favour of the Lord.
Beverley,
You have found a great man,
An oak on a hill,
A dreamer with a pen,
A jester and a scribe,
A blessing and a friend.
You have brought the dew of joy to this day.
Your trust in God lights up the lives of those around you.
It is the moonlight on the sea,
A beauty that lets us see
That there is more in this world
Than we might otherwise dream.
You take the Good News out of the realm of theory
And show us the realities of grace.
It is has been a joy to share this day with you.
And from this day on, your joy will shine on.
Reaching new lives,
Creating new lives.
God bless you both.
This is the wedding of Caleb Woodbridge and Beverley Watling.
This is a moment in history.
Are you thrilled to be here?
I am.
We will remember this day for years.
Grandchildren not yet born will look at photos taken today.
This is a glorious collision of two fantastic people;
It is a happening engineered by the Almighty
And powered by love.
We are thrilled to be here.
A wedding like this
Is a day of holy joy
When the spheres of earth and heaven overlap
And the dancing beauty in the adventure of life shines
Caleb and Beverley have brought together
The people they love and cherish,
By whom they are loved and cherished.
And they have led us all today into the presence of
The Author of all that is good.
Long ago they asked him into their lives,
And now they do so again,
Together.
We rejoiced when we received their wedding invitation,
How much more will the great and giving God
Bless our two dear friends
Who have asked for his
Guidance and protection;
Presence and perfection.
Caleb and Beverley are rich in the gift of imagination.
And when fused with faith,
This allows them to see the deep reality
In which all of us live.
The equation at the heart of their universe is that the Creator God loves his creation;
That he sent his son to redeem those he loved;
And that the destiny of the cosmos is not
Disintegration
But rebirth and restoration.
God is love
And he gives birth to love.
Genesis tell us we are all
Made in the image of God.
What is this image?
It is the Father, Son and Spirit,
United in eternity,
Bonded in love,
Bringing healing to creation.
In every culture
The idea of marriage has awoken
Because our hearts pulse to the Trinity’s beat.
We want to join this dance
Experience this faithfulness,
This purpose,
And revel in such beauty.
In God -
The One who can paint both the rings of Saturn
And the wings of a butterfly -
We see a love and relationship we are designed to reflect.
But how?
The Bible points the way.
In words so easily misheard by ears
Clogged with the wax of the ego.
The Apostle Paul advised the first Christians in Ephesus:
“Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord.”
As to the Lord?
As to Jesus.
As to a man who loves you with all his heart.
As to a man who would swap the glory of heaven
To greet you in a garden.
As to a man who would cook you breakfast on a beach
And still your storms.
Is this not placing an impossible burden on the shoulders
Of even the greatest groom?
Is a bride who dares to hope that her husband
Might shine the qualities of her saviour
Not destined for disappointment?
Well,
She would be
If her husband depended on nothing but his own willpower
To achieve such a miracle.
But Scripture tells us
That God has
Predestined
Us
“[To] be conformed to the image of his Son,
In order that he might be the
Firstborn among many brothers.”
This is the destiny that God is working towards,
Regardless of what we might to do mess
Life up.
God can see a day
When we might know Jesus so well
And prize his friendship so dear
That we will have picked up his mannerisms
His priorities
His instincts
And his love,
So much
That people might think
We were family.
Today is a moment when family is extended.
The Woodbridges and the Watlings will be forever linked
By this outburst of love
And proclamation of commitment.
God is fashioning a new family,
Calling people from every corner of the planet.
In the worldwide church
Colours are blending,
Dialects are merging
And boundaries are crumbling
As God calls more people into his masterpiece.
God’s spirit has been at work in Caleb and Beverley for years.
They are already a force of blessing in our lives,
And God’s work of artistry in their lives is far from finished.
Submitting as to the Lord
Is submitting to a husband and lover
Who will obey God even if it costs him his life.
It is trusting completely
Someone who would lay down his life for you.
Who will weep with you at funerals
And declare his love at a wedding.
In these verses,
Paul continued:
“For the husband is the head of the wife
Even as Christ is the head of the church,
His body,
And is Himself its saviour.”
Jesus identifies with the men and women
Who fill this room
In such a delightful array of shapes and sizes.
He sees us,
Featherless, wingless, sub-angelic, 10-toed anarchistic homo sapiens,
Not as a strangely curious species
On an ordinary planet on the fringe of the universe
But as his body.
What must the angels have thought when they heard this for the first time?
The risen Jesus does not identify with the blazing supernovas
Or the thundering comets
Or the spiralling galaxies
But with us.
We can build him cathedrals
And carve him jewels
But it is to the men and women who make up
The church that he points across the centuries and constellations
And says with pride:
“That’s who I am”.
Paul says:
“In the same way
Husbands should love their wives as their own bodies.
He who loves his wife loves himself.
For no one ever hated his own flesh,
But nourishes and cherishes it,
Just as Christ does the church,
Because we are members of his body.”
Think how Christ loved the church.
He endured a birth in a stable,
The hatred of the establishment
And the scandal of a cross.
A husband is given the challenge
Of loving his wife
With the tender wisdom
And self-sacrificing passion
Of Christ.
This will involve self-denial
But it is not some crazy Spartan stunt
Like cold water baths
Or swapping chocolate for lentils.
It is a discipline which leads to joy.
The exercise of devotion to another person
Will uncover the treasures of love, peace, joy and hope
Among the pebbles of the domestic.
It is a chance to learn
To look at the world
Through eyes
Of a God of love.
He saw something so precious when he looked at us
That he sent his own son to save us.
These words in Ephesians are a manifesto of liberation.
A husband will never find happiness
If he seeks his identity
In the watch on his wrist
Rather than in the wife who holds his hand.
We are freed from the need to chase
Selfish ambition,
Fleeting wealth,
Lonely status,
And temporary prizes.
Instead,
God seems to shout from the pages of his book:
Go on!
Build your dreams around her.
Her delight will bring you delight.
Love her as if you know the world will be reborn.
Love her like you know days of joy are coming and good will win.
Love her in the wintertime
With the certainty
Of summer’s blaze.
Love her like you know
You will one day
Feel heaven’s rays.
In fact,
Can you feel it now?
This is eternal gold you are spinning
As you nourish and cherish this daughter of the king,
A princess of heaven
On the streets of Cardiff.
To identify with such beauty is a privilege and a joy.
Work worthy of a lifetime.
As Paul says in a moment of understatement:
“This mystery is profound”.
But as Proverbs 18:22 tells us:
"Whoever finds a wife finds a good thing and obtains favour of the Lord.”
Caleb,
You have found the favour of the Lord.
Beverley,
You have found a great man,
An oak on a hill,
A dreamer with a pen,
A jester and a scribe,
A blessing and a friend.
You have brought the dew of joy to this day.
Your trust in God lights up the lives of those around you.
It is the moonlight on the sea,
A beauty that lets us see
That there is more in this world
Than we might otherwise dream.
You take the Good News out of the realm of theory
And show us the realities of grace.
It is has been a joy to share this day with you.
And from this day on, your joy will shine on.
Reaching new lives,
Creating new lives.
God bless you both.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Positive Votes; Negative Votes
Voters in an election often step into the polling booth unsure of whom to vote for but very clear about which party they do not want to win power.
But how can these people make their voices heard and register their lack of support for a party which has policies and personalities they find odious?
There is the option of “tactical voting”, where you back a party about which you feel lukewarm because it has a better chance than your personal favourite of stopping a candidate you loathe. Famously, in the glory days of Tory Blair’s Camelot, Labour and Liberal Democrat voters swapped votes to topple Tories.
But this is a mathematically messy exercise – precisely the type of malarkey that puts people off going to the polling station. Would it not be simpler to give people the option of voting against a party?
Has the time come for the honest option of the negative vote which would be subtracted from those cast in support of a party?
Judging by the paltry 30.5% turnout in last week’s European election, few people are passionately in favour of a political party. But it is easy to imagine a voter who is disillusioned with mainstream parties yet passionately opposed to extremists on the ballot paper.
Why not give him or her the chance to make their true feelings manifest?
If the party to the wild fringe of the left or right managed to garner sufficient support they would be able to climb over this obstacle. Instead of the democratic will of all people being stifled it would be better represented.
The ethics of allowing voters to drain support away from a party would need to be debated thoroughly. There may be good reasons why this is a ludicrous suggestion and, undoubtedly, chaos would result if every party ended up with a negative number of votes.
But universities possess legions of experts blessed with the acumen and insight to fine tune a workable system. Furthermore, it is suddenly fashionable to discuss reform of the electoral system – even Gordon Brown is doing it, and he was a fan of the Arctic Monkeys.
Arguably, the prime priority now is not ensuring that small parties get into power but finding a way of reaching the swathes who do not vote for any political grouping.
Such people should not be written off as apathetic morons more interested in resetting their digital telly-box than helping determine democratic outcomes.
Who can blame them for staying at home if the only option waiting for them in the polling booth is voting in support of a party they do not support?
Their 69.5% no-show at the polls is a clear statement of something. The bride who does not turn up at the wedding sends a bold message to the groom at the altar.
But how can these people make their voices heard and register their lack of support for a party which has policies and personalities they find odious?
There is the option of “tactical voting”, where you back a party about which you feel lukewarm because it has a better chance than your personal favourite of stopping a candidate you loathe. Famously, in the glory days of Tory Blair’s Camelot, Labour and Liberal Democrat voters swapped votes to topple Tories.
But this is a mathematically messy exercise – precisely the type of malarkey that puts people off going to the polling station. Would it not be simpler to give people the option of voting against a party?
Has the time come for the honest option of the negative vote which would be subtracted from those cast in support of a party?
Judging by the paltry 30.5% turnout in last week’s European election, few people are passionately in favour of a political party. But it is easy to imagine a voter who is disillusioned with mainstream parties yet passionately opposed to extremists on the ballot paper.
Why not give him or her the chance to make their true feelings manifest?
If the party to the wild fringe of the left or right managed to garner sufficient support they would be able to climb over this obstacle. Instead of the democratic will of all people being stifled it would be better represented.
The ethics of allowing voters to drain support away from a party would need to be debated thoroughly. There may be good reasons why this is a ludicrous suggestion and, undoubtedly, chaos would result if every party ended up with a negative number of votes.
But universities possess legions of experts blessed with the acumen and insight to fine tune a workable system. Furthermore, it is suddenly fashionable to discuss reform of the electoral system – even Gordon Brown is doing it, and he was a fan of the Arctic Monkeys.
Arguably, the prime priority now is not ensuring that small parties get into power but finding a way of reaching the swathes who do not vote for any political grouping.
Such people should not be written off as apathetic morons more interested in resetting their digital telly-box than helping determine democratic outcomes.
Who can blame them for staying at home if the only option waiting for them in the polling booth is voting in support of a party they do not support?
Their 69.5% no-show at the polls is a clear statement of something. The bride who does not turn up at the wedding sends a bold message to the groom at the altar.
Thursday, June 04, 2009
Making Hay
The combined presence of the Archbishop of Canterbury, Desmond Tutu, and the Chief Rabbi may have contributed to the miracle of sunshine which splashed down on the Hay-on-Wye book festival.
This unfamiliar sensation of rays from a blazing star hitting foreheads heightened the sense of being spirited away to a dimension where great books are never out of print and stellar authors consume ice cream on every corner.
It’s a reality where you bump into people who are the definition of people you don’t expect to bump into – which can lead to confusing situations when you collide with someone you should not be surprised to meet.
In a haze of pollen and paper, I excitedly mistook a splendid colleague for a Glaswegian journalist I last saw in 2003.
This moment of confusion did drop a disconcerting thought into my mind, though.
How can one be sure that the people in the white tents of Hay are actually the mythologically marvellous writers they claim to be?
Authors spend the bulk of their lives sitting alone in quiet rooms – not lolling on film sets or power-lunching on restaurant terraces in Malibu. They are the badgers of the creative arts, only occasionally emerging from dark recesses.
We may glimpse their visage on a dust jacket, but who would have the confidence to tap the gentleman in the queue at the ice rink and say, “Excuse me, but are you JD Salinger?”
I have long suspected that there is more than one Bob Dylan touring the world. The chatty chap who danced around with a harmonica one sunlit evening bore about as much resemblance to the pensive musician with the same name I’d seen a couple of years earlier as Bob Monkhouse does to Boris Karloff.
So having paid my £12 to listen to legendary Baltimore crime writer and Wire creator David Simon, I began to wonder if this was an elaborate wheeze. Was the man on stage really a masterful chronicler of institutional corruption or was he Farmer Bill from Felinfach doing a passable American accent?
In the book-signing tent, was that actually the ineffably hip Zoë Heller or was it a local schoolteacher writing her signature?
The Welsh Assembly Government has spent many millions attempting to inject entrepreneurial instincts into the populace, and this may be why an idea for a Welsh-Irish spectacular has germinated in my head.
Who would like to invest in creating a comparable festival in the wilds of County Antrim? The town of Ballymoney (population 9,021) has a thriving amateur dramatic society, and I am sure it would be possible to find actors capable of personifying JK Rowling, William Shatner and Fyodor Dostoyevsky (“What do you mean he’s dead? There he is in front of you!).
How could it not work? Now, if you can lend me a tent...
This unfamiliar sensation of rays from a blazing star hitting foreheads heightened the sense of being spirited away to a dimension where great books are never out of print and stellar authors consume ice cream on every corner.
It’s a reality where you bump into people who are the definition of people you don’t expect to bump into – which can lead to confusing situations when you collide with someone you should not be surprised to meet.
In a haze of pollen and paper, I excitedly mistook a splendid colleague for a Glaswegian journalist I last saw in 2003.
This moment of confusion did drop a disconcerting thought into my mind, though.
How can one be sure that the people in the white tents of Hay are actually the mythologically marvellous writers they claim to be?
Authors spend the bulk of their lives sitting alone in quiet rooms – not lolling on film sets or power-lunching on restaurant terraces in Malibu. They are the badgers of the creative arts, only occasionally emerging from dark recesses.
We may glimpse their visage on a dust jacket, but who would have the confidence to tap the gentleman in the queue at the ice rink and say, “Excuse me, but are you JD Salinger?”
I have long suspected that there is more than one Bob Dylan touring the world. The chatty chap who danced around with a harmonica one sunlit evening bore about as much resemblance to the pensive musician with the same name I’d seen a couple of years earlier as Bob Monkhouse does to Boris Karloff.
So having paid my £12 to listen to legendary Baltimore crime writer and Wire creator David Simon, I began to wonder if this was an elaborate wheeze. Was the man on stage really a masterful chronicler of institutional corruption or was he Farmer Bill from Felinfach doing a passable American accent?
In the book-signing tent, was that actually the ineffably hip Zoë Heller or was it a local schoolteacher writing her signature?
The Welsh Assembly Government has spent many millions attempting to inject entrepreneurial instincts into the populace, and this may be why an idea for a Welsh-Irish spectacular has germinated in my head.
Who would like to invest in creating a comparable festival in the wilds of County Antrim? The town of Ballymoney (population 9,021) has a thriving amateur dramatic society, and I am sure it would be possible to find actors capable of personifying JK Rowling, William Shatner and Fyodor Dostoyevsky (“What do you mean he’s dead? There he is in front of you!).
How could it not work? Now, if you can lend me a tent...
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