JOHNVAGABONDAGAIN

D uring  lockdown I rather enjoyed watching church services online while lounging in my bathrobe, sipping coffee,  Being something of a spiritual butterfly,  If something failed to hold my interest, I could surf the web in search of better music or  something slicker and  more engaging . In other words, it was governed by mood or emotional engagement, not by any semblance of discipline or responsibility. Which was fun. For a time. But, the sheer volume of the religious smorgasbord on offer was itself an invitation to laziness. In the U.K ,  church attendance averages less than 6 %  of the population.   The late poet R. S. Thomas, a priest in the Church of Wales, called himself “a vicar of large things in a small parish.”   Yet, a quarter of British adults watched or listened to a religious service during the coronavirus lockdown, and one in twenty started praying during th at  crisis. I’ve had a checkered history with the church.  From low Anglicanism to Pentecostalism as it perfused i

It's been a while. Here I am, ashamed and guilty. I have been editing, examining and doing odd jobs here and there. On examining, once again, flushed with success and repetitive strain injury, my team has done sterling work, setting another battalion of the young into their next adventure at university - few real problems this year. It 's emotionally a bit flatlining - one works for days on end, dreaming of little red marks on a computer screen. Then, nothing. It takes its toll. Imagination, even here, looks dun-coloured and wan, since I find myself asking the unanswerable. Was I fair, always? And, what now? The grind of the surf gives way to the freedom of the ocean where I get to think new thoughts or even process old ones. Also, do I have anything very original to say? Everybody has written about transgender rights, school shootings, Putin's war and the absurd Partygate. So, what else could be written about that's really unusual , really edgy, really...different? Per

I read something quite strange today. The white T shirt, once worn exclusively by construction workers with sweaty armpits and cascading chest hair, who reeked of Guinness and hand rolled cigarettes, is making a comeback as this year's go-to for fashionistas.  Everybody gotta have one. I never really went from, so I suppose the cost of best quality Sea Island cotton will send prices through the roof.  It's really a thought-free process. White is right under almost all circumstances. Not altogether a good plan to cook in one, especially if expensive, fat droplets splatter - there's an interesting piece of physics here - and splatter stains, along with turmeric and spaghetti sauce tend to rather spoil the look.  The ultra-discreet Italian clothing brand Loro Piana, which caters for the most uber of the uber-rich and is a favourite of (surprise)Vladimir Putin sells a perfect white cotton jersey. Would I pay 900 euros for a T-shirt? Er, no. It's interesting, however, once o

Where I live, inflation is in double figures and is going to rise higher. People are doing all they can for Ukrainian refugees and Russian and Ukrainian can be frequently heard in the streets. Yes, the brutal invasion of Ukraine by the mad Tsar in Moscow is almost unilaterally to blame. Food and fuel prices are rising here and in a poor country this is not merely an inconvenience. It is a calamity and the reasons can be laid squarely at Moscow’s door. Yet the chill wind of famine is currently felt most keenly in the vast agricultural territories of Ukraine itself. A few weeks ago, a journalist spoke with a Ukrainian peasant - they still call the agricultural workers that in a place that is virtually a breadbasket for the rest of the world. He said: “In the old days, we had horses and cows and pigs and chickens. Now we are dying of hunger. In the old days, we fed the world. Now they have taken all we had away from us and we have nothing. In the old days, I would have bade you welcome, a