It is very unfashionable to talk about evil. Most folks, I suspect, will roll their eyes at the medieval nature of such a concept and anyone daring to invoke it. And yet, as St Paul said about his own epoch, 'the times are evil.'

Yes, I know. We have better health care, more abundant food, clean water, vaster expanses of knowledge, modern conveniences and so on and so forth. There has been huge progress in science, education, medicine and technology. It's undeniable.

And yet, the times are evil. Very recently, a young man, a local boy, passed away from a drug overdose. Illegal drugs are one of the most pernicious evils I can think of. They destroy young lives and whole families are devastated. It is not about choice. What kind of society allows its most immature members, those it should protect, to make reasonable adult choices about ingesting drugs?

In an age of excess, and this is the age we live in, there is always the risk of moral decline. When you aren't busy worrying about putting food on the table or getting a bucket of water from the well, when life has become materially comfortable, then humans don't seem to function very well. Things start to spin out of control when the struggle effectively ceases. And there is a concomitant rise in evil amongst us.

Doubtless those reading this will think I'm balmy. But try telling that to the family up the road who lost their precious son. May he rest in peace.

Burnt Offerings

I have been picking up the ash all day,

As thin as skin, emery-grey,

It flew up in the night,

And settled here, as if to say,

Put me together, tease me out,

Mark out the places,

And make me fit.

I sit, unnerved by the 

Night's unwonted flames,

The private spaces -

Books, knick-knacks, photos,

The minutiae that frames

Why we live,

How we live,

Hiding an ever-fragile carapace -

The all we are, rendered

Like a shopping list,

All gone.

Next day, the house

crouches,

Forlorn, ambiguous,

Frowning as if offended,

Tenebrous in the blue vault,

As if a sudden joy,

Or even happier pulse,

Has ended.

Now and then the text messages in my phone displays a little symbol on the left of a section of speech. It looks a bit like a car battery with a plus sign on one edge. I have no idea what it means nor whether it has any bearing on the text I have sent. Was it received? Was it read? Did it go to a parallel universe?

Searching for what these symbols are should be fairly straight forward. But I spent at least half and hour in fruitless googling, ploughing through some of the least interesting prose on the planet. I am grateful that someone seems to have made an effort, though not on my behalf nor with my purposes in mind. I could find a great many tedious examples of symbols that might be displayed for any manner of purposes, even when sending or receiving text messages, but my little car battery was not amongst them.

When a detail such as this becomes a problem for so-called smart AI search engines, then you know we have a problem.

This week marked the tenth wedding anniversary of Ann and me. We did a couple of celebratory things, including a lovely yum cha in Sydney. I had hoped that we could spend a few days in Canberra but family issues preclude that for the time being, so maybe closer to Christmas for that trip.

Marriage is always a complicated dance between two essentially different people. We all have some similarities, of course, but many contrasts too. If we come from different cultures, as Ann and I do, then the opportunity for misunderstandings to arise increases. There are sometimes fundamentally opposing ways of living, seeing the world, understanding reality, and so forth.

In spite of all this, here we are. Actually, I think our marriage is stronger than ever. A mixed marriage is not for everyone as a lot of smitten men will find out once they have gotten past the obligatory 'looks' phase. There are many cautionary tales.

As I advise others, learn about the culture, in a deep not a cursory way, and be prepared for ways of thinking about issues that are radically different from your own. And learn how to bite your tongue!

Recently the news has has a number of stories about the potential for AI disaster. Tasks given to AI have turned in unusual and unexpected directions. In one case the AI agent broke out of the controlled environment, in another, a number of AI agents found ways of collaborating on a task by hacking into and communicating through a digital bulletin board. Doubtless there are other surprises that we have yet to learn of or which we will never hear about.

I am not opposed to artificial intelligence, especially where it can make life better for real world natives of the planet earth. In medicine, research, in advancing good technology, and so forth, AI has an important role to play. But most intentional actions have unexpected consequences, some better, some worse. And some intentions are malign in the first place.

There are plausible scenarios in which AI, so enabled by human actors, destroy civilisation and even life on earth. It could happen through evil intent, or negligence, unrealistic optimism, or quite by accident, but it remains, even as I game a number of options in my head, within the realm of possibility.

If checks are put in place now at an international level, then perhaps it can be averted. I am not at all confident about that given the the way international relations look at the moment. 

I am not an economist though I have an interest in how things work in the economy. That doesn't mean that I completely (or even partly) understand interviews and articles that cover emerging or current problems or why one thing is linked to another. It is a far bigger and more complex picture than the oft-alluded to household economy.

But having watched a few programs recently, I do get the worry about the global economy, though I often forget about half of what is said. It seems that, as I recall, a financial crisis may be brewing, principally because of three factors - a bond market squeeze, high government debt, and the AI infrastructure boom. I am a bit sceptical when I hear about something or other being a 'perfect storm', another way of saying how multiple problems may converge to create something much larger than themselves, but I'll sit with it this time.

Apparently, if the storm clouds do indeed become the deluge, then, um, I don't really know what happens. But there will be 'wailing and gashing of teeth.' The Biblical metaphor is quite apt really, because a lot of people, especially small ones, will be hurt. The rich, I guess might suffer the slings of a small part of their vast fortunes, or the arrows of a luxury yacht or two. Poorer folk might really be in shtuck for lost houses, cars and businesses, if the worst outcome prevails.

I hope that they are all wrong and that we muddle through to an unsatisfactory conclusion, that being the likely least bad option.

 Speaking of literacy, I watched an old BBC doco from the early 1960's in which some of the adults who were interviewed bemoaned their lack of education, relative to that of their children. Many had left school quite young and felt that had they had the same chance as their kids, their incomes who be significantly higher. It was interesting how strongly they attached educational background to earnings (valid as that is) and so little to intellectual striving or personal fulfilment. Then again, they didn't really have much choice and their limited vision, stunted by their educational lack, made such remarks perfectly reasonable.

Another aspect of the program (which was highlighting changes in nature of South London after WW2) was the common response to 'are you happier now?' inquiry. While most said that they were undoubtedly better off than their parents were, the increase in living standards and new high-rise housing had diminished their sense of community. Things were not so neighbourly as they once were.

Such an atomisation continues apace. The folk from the sixties cited TV as a major cause of the decline of local camaraderie. Today a similar argument is made with smart phones. Doubtless we are also far more affluent than the people in the documentary. When I am on the train, I often just watch my fellow commuters, most of whom are deeply engaged with all-in-one entertainment machines. The only voices I hear are those who are talking into those machines. This is not a criticism, just an observation. I am not sure where it is all leading.

I hadn't realised until yesterday what a wonderful philanthropist the late Dolly Parton was. We read an article from the The Conversation on 2RPH's Features Forum which talked about her program, Imagination Library, which she started in 1995. This delivers age-appropriate books monthly and freely to children from birth to their fifth birthday. In this country alone, 50,000 kids get a monthly book. Having books read to you and being able to read them yourself, irrespective of your circumstances, is a blessing for both literacy and the imagination.

Dolly is best known for her music, costumes and wigs. She was an outstanding and influential performer. But her generous contribution to literacy (her own father could not read) will have ripple effects for generations to come, things unseen and yet moving on the spirit of the written and spoken word.

Pursuant to my last post, it seems that modern commentators think that the times we live in now are morally superior to the past, and that people who say otherwise are afflicted by the 'rose-coloured glasses on the past' syndrome.

I always have a good think about criticism like this and the point made can apply in many cases. The 'good old days' posts that regularly pop up on social media are undoubtedly looking back through a biased lens, one that confirms the prejudices already held. Posters comments reinforce this. I have spent a good part of my life fighting such skewed views of the world. Moreover I don't think the time of my youth was any kind of halcyon period.

The key thing about views of moral good or evil is the metric by which it is measured. It came as a surprise to me then that contemporary analysts (philosophers, sociologists etc) are on quite a different page to me. For whereas I am looking at the moral from the point of view of a more ancient aspect (murder, lying, sexual misconduct, avarice, jealousy, pride, love of neighbour etc) they are more inclined to consider the greater good, progress in medicine and hygiene, a reduction in prejudice, increased compassion, access to clean water, a reduction in suffering and so forth. These are all very noble goals and I support them heartily. Who wouldn't?

But we are talking at cross purposes. When your yardstick is grounded in materialism and the metaphysical is irrelevant, then you are always going to have a different view of whether we are in moral decline. I don't think either side is wrong - we are just talking about different things and how you measure them.

 Greater minds than mine, of which there are many, have considered the question - 'can there be a moral code without God?' - and there have been a lot of well-considered answers. 

Apparently that answer is 'yes', followed by a perfectly reasonable justification. Here is one very common response:

'The truth is, morality doesn't require a belief in God. Secular morality offers a compelling alternative, grounded in reason, empathy and our shared human experience.' (Sacrilegious Discourse)

It is surely possible to build a moral code, one that informs our legal system, one that reflects the grounding elements mentioned above. It may even function well for a period of time.

But Christians (and other people of faith) will argue that without the imprimatur of God, and the sanctions that only a divine creator can employ, such a moral code, good as it is, will eventually decay into relativism. Secularists disagree. Who might be right?

My observations, subjective as they are, suggest that just such a decline into relativism is happening now and has been ongoing for a century or longer. With the decline of faith and belief in God, together with the teaching of moral codes such as the ten commandments, the idea of truth, of what constitutes right and wrong and what this means in practical liveable terms, has been muddied, challenged and undermined. It really is getting worse by the year.

The folks who postulate theories of secular morality are smart, well-educated, decent people, who are actively interested in the well-being of society. They are a tiny minority. I don't know if, outside their virtuous circle, they notice the increasing amorality of many of the citizens around them, the disregard for human life, the decline of public discourse, the normalisation of practises and ideas that are repugnant to human dignity. Do they notice the 'my truth/your truth' brigade as they play out a classic relativistic scenario?

Yes, a moral code is possible without God. It's capacity to maintain itself though, is somewhat in question. Just look around.

 It's easy to worry about things, especially when you don't have all or any of the background information. This is even more so when it involves loved-ones. Incomplete pictures create uncertainty and uncertainty, like it's opposite, security, is decidedly 'mortals chiefest enemy.'

As a Christian, uncertainty is something that we have to live with, trusting that God has matters in hand. Because many of us want to control situations, even micro-manage them, giving up is difficult. Moreover, as soon as we do try, we find ourselves endeavouring to take up the reigns again. It is hard to 'lay it down' and not pick it up again.

I have found this especially so recently. Wondering what is going on, wondering if there is something I can do 'to help', is a challenge. It is a daily challenge - surrendering a situation to God, trusting that whatever the pathway He chooses, will ultimately be for the best.

 Father John's homily today was bang on, a rarity is which both my brain and my faith were fully engaged. He was, in essence, gives us a Cook's Tour of some of the thinking of Pope's over the past 120 years. More narrowly, I suppose, he touched on the manner in which the Papacy has engaged with what was happening in the world around us at that time, including the rise of Marxism, the degrading of the environment and the ascendancy of AI. These of course, are hugely consequential issues. Even Marxism, despite the defeat of communism in the 1990's as a serious socio-economic choice, remains a hot-button topic amongst those who think and those who chatter.

Despite my centre-left origins, I find myself agreeing on just about everything. Today we are in the thrall of a kind of world-wide delusion - that we can go on consuming the way we do, that life is primarily about the material and its uses, that technology will ride to the rescue as the curtain begins to fall. But I sense a panic under the surface, a sidewards glance that knows at some level, these things are not true. I claim no special knowledge in these matters. Moreover, I know nothing about it except what I have read and what I observe around me.

On another note, though related, the Father's weekly column was preceded by this quotation attributed to one Elmer G. Letterman (about whom I can find nothing), which reads:

'A man may fall many times but he won't be a failure until he says someone pushed him.'

There is certainly some truth in that.

When I first read Philip Larkin's verse, somewhere in the early 80's, it struck a deep chord inside me. I made an immediate connection with both the way he saw the world and the manner in which he said it. Larkin is not everyone's cup of tea, of course. His pessimistic take on reality (tempered by a certain reluctant joy) will not impress the young 'world is my oyster' squad. But they are not likely to be reading poetry anyway.

I don't always agree with Larkin and what he thinks about life, even though I understand why he does. I was reading, by way of example, Aubade, on a recent 2RPH program, which is a marvellous poem. Larkin was an atheist, or at least an agnostic, so for him Christianity is

'..the vast moth-eaten musical brocade/Created to pretend we never die.'

It's a brilliant metaphor, so visual, but only true if you are without faith. I can appreciate the skill, even the idea, but still respectfully disagree. Written 20 years earlier, Church Going (one of my favourite poems), talks of a time  when 'superstition, like belief, must die' and 'what remains' is but 'grass, weedy pavement, brambles, buttress, sky.' The juice has gone from the fruit, leaving only a crumpled skin.

It's very tempting to take this position - all that is is purely material - but we all breath a final breath. Faith is not necessarily about living forever, crossing the Jordan, if you like, but that is a component. It is very much about the now, how I live my life from day to day, where I place my trust, to whom do I look towards.

I wouldn't want any of Larkin's poems to be unwritten, just because I hold a different world view. Some of them are masterpieces.

Looking at the world as it appears today, it is hard not to be seized by an eschatological terror. As we enter a new phase of the 'information age', one that may be dominated by A1, the hype about the potential for human progress is counterpointed by what looks, to a keen observer, like a new age of decline.

I have written before about the most obvious areas of concern - climate change and it's uncertain consequences, nuclear arms, the breakdown of the post-war consensus, the demise of social mores and so forth. 

Never let it be said that I am a prophet of doom - for I am not - but if you add all the natural disasters that are upon us - earthquakes, volcanoes, tsunami, bushfires, floods ( I could go on) - then it would take a true Panglossian to make a case for long-term human thriving. There are tipping points as far as the eye can see.

From a Christian point of view, this was all foreshadowed in Scripture. The exact nature and timing of 'the end' is a mystery, entirely in the hands of God. But we are told to watch out for the signs. They seem to be plentiful, though one should be careful not to be self-deceiving.

I am fast running out of ways to keep fit. My years of running were stopped by knee problems. My three decades of lap swimming ended with shoulder injuries which only surgery might repair. And my walking career has been constantly thwarted by both knee and foot problems which will not get any better.

I could take up cycling again, though likely with another e-bike. I do have a tendency to fall off from time to time so spectacles will be necessary. To stop more falls, need it be said.

In prepping another Writers from the Vault episode for 2RPH I came across a monologue that I hadn't thought about in three decades. In the prologue to Henry V, a character named 'Chorus' enters, and proceeds to tell the audience that the play they are about to see involves vast armies, battles, foreign locations and so forth. But alas, you will have to use your imagination, for here we have only a bare stage and 'this wooden O.' So, go to it.

In Branagh's film of the same play, the Chorus is played by Derek Jacobi, who gives a masterful performance throughout. I decided that I would use the opening speech for the next Writers program, but, having watched Jacobi again, have no hope of coming anywhere near his magical level.

But I am not an actor, merely a cipher for the works of others. And contentedly so.

 The elderly man holding 'The End is Nigh' sign as passers-by give him a wide berth is very much someone who is ridiculed, being either mad, fanatical or plain foolish.

And yet, budding eschatologists can hardly have missed the plethora of end-time signs can keep popping up with increasing frequency. Sure, it is a fraught business and we (I speak here of Christians) are encouraged to tread carefully, as only God the Father knows the actual time in human history when the curtain will fall.

Still, the last 100 years or so has provided much to muse about - two world wars, the invention of atomic and nuclear weapons, the amazing emergence of Israel as a state after a two and half thousand year hiatus, the increasing fragmentation of international relations, the faster pace of life, the rise of AI, the threat of climate change, the scourge of illicit drugs....It just goes on and on really and provides decent material for the consideration of anyone interested in a Biblical interpretation of the end of history.

It is unwise to be drawn into making predictions or claiming the fulfilment of prophecy. But it is certainly wise to pay attention.

 FIFA have hinted that they might be interested in expanding (yet again) the number of teams playing at World Cup Finals every four years. So far we have moved up from 16 (the original formulation) to 24, to 36 and currently, 48. The figure they have in mind, apparently, is 64 nations. Why? 

The answer we keep getting is equity and participation. After all , look how well minnows Cape Verde did as a result of the most recent expansion. Don't we want more of that?

Of course, the truth is far less idealistic. It's all about money and FIFA wants a lot more of it, which they would get in spades with a bigger competition.

Surely a better idea would be to allow all of the current list of FIFA men's rankings - 211 nations in total - to participate in the finals competition. That way, all the pesky qualification rounds could be eliminated. The duration of the tournament would likely be a few months so FIFA could make a packet from sponsorship and advertising and broadcast rights.

Come to think of it, it might be prudent to add in a few extra places, bringing the number of participants to 220, to account for nations that currently don't exist, or potential colonies on the Moon and Mars.

 Lately I have been 'camping in', my expression for living in a house that has no running water. On Sunday a pipe attached to an outside tap burst and I had to shut off the water at the meter. I can draw a little water for a bucket-full but only for a minute or two. There is, of course, no hot water as I shut off that service too as a precaution.

Luckily, the girls are in Melbourne for a few days. I can cope with the inconvenience but I doubt that they could. I do enjoy the somewhat spartan manner of heating a jug and sitting in a thimbleful of warm water in the bath. 

The plumbers are here and having a hard time of locating where the gal pipe meets the copper, the better to shut off the former. This house is old and jerry-built and nothing conforms to any proper specification so they will have to improvise. I hope things are resolved today for the sake of my family, who will be home on Friday.

The FIFA World Cup has proceeded to the knockouts (Round of 32) and already, heavyweights Germany and Holland have fallen. The Germans, like the Italians before, are an excellent tournament team but have curiously departed early over the past decade. I suppose no one nation can be on top forever, but there must be something going on in German football for this to occur.

England continue to underwhelm and narrowly beat DR Congo this morning. Since 1966 they have been the perpetual bridesmaids of the WC despite having some excellent talent at their disposal. I suspect that if they could bottle some of the Socceroos grit and determination and administer a dose before every game, they might have won won silver by now.

As for the latter, they play a very good Egypt side in a day or two and will need to figure out how to deal with Mo Salah, who is apparently fit to play. Salah had a very patchy season with Liverpool but is a match winner on his day. Egypt are more than Salah of course but this is probably his last WC so he will be determined to make an impact.

On your guard Socceroos!