Compassion and hypocrisy

The recent release on compassionate grounds of Abdel-Basset al-Megrahi, the convicted Lockerbie bomber, has been big news in the last week or two.

Much has been made of the controversial decision to release him, made by Scottish justice secretary Kenny MacAskill. Sometimes compassion is hard to show, but there has been widespread support – particularly from Christians – for the decision. It’s been described as one of the biggest political decisions in the devolution age and certainly of the current SNP administration – but if both come to be defined by compassion, then that’s a pretty good defining characteristic.

Of course, MacAskill is not a Christian himself, but I understand from a friend who works at the heart of the Scottish political system that although MacAskill’s three most senior civil servants are Christian they did not write his speech that referred to “a higher power”. Is this an example of the Christian faith at work through prayer and example, influencing others?

What might admittedly have been a politically astute lean towards a religious society has still nevertheless created controversy across the pond in the USA – as this website illustrates.

However, there is hypocrisy at work in much of the pro-boycott movements – as this site and this blog post brilliantly reveal.

The USA cannot have it all its own way, and perhaps the protesters, and indeed we all, need to bear Matthew chapter 7 in mind before criticising.

Books

Among the books I am packing for my trip to Edinburgh this week is Shadow Behind the Sun by a Kosovan Albanian woman, Remzija Sherifi.  It charts her and her family’s life as they flee violence in the war in Kosovo in the late 1990s and settle into a new life in Glasgow.

I have a huge interest in Kosovo and Albania, but other than a few highly recommendable Ismael Kadare novels (fascinating and imaginative fiction influenced by Albanian culture, history and legends), I’ve read very little from that part of the world so I am looking forward to getting stuck into it.

I was actually given it by my publisher, and feel it’s probably a good thing to check out a writer I suppose I have that tenuous connection with.  Indeed, it’s another writer from the same publisher – Sandstone Press in Dingwall – that led to my recent announcement of my forthcoming book.

Back in January of this year, I’d written a blog entry praising the excellent Between Weathers by Ron McMillan, and as you can see I received comments on it from both the author himself and the publisher.  Sandstone picked up on the mullet idea on my website, asked me to make a formal submission about it, and (to cut a long story short) there then followed a few months of writing, editing and discussions.

Of course, you’re probably interested in what the title is and what the cover is like, but I’ll save those for later posts.

It’s just a good thing I enjoyed Between Weathers so much…

In between trips

I got back from Edinburgh late last night, had a busy day today, and then caught up with some folk from the Flickr Inverness group this evening, to take some photos of the Kessock Bridge. Conditions were a bit rubbish and I actually got better shots on my walk home.

I’ve uploaded a few, however, for your delectation. Or scorn.

Tomorrow I am off to Aberdeen for work, stay the night there, and head on to Glasgow on Friday morning for a meeting, and get back home that same evening.

Two days back at work, and I am already knackered again…

Back to reality

Work starts again tomorrow, after two weeks’ leave and a summer which has on the whole been quiet.

I am off to Edinburgh in a bit, with a busy day down there tomorrow, and trips to Aberdeen and Glasgow later on in the week.  The following week will be entirely in Edinburgh, and the few weeks thereafter will be similarly travel-packed, with exotic locations such as Fraserburgh, Glasgow, Skye, London and Sheffield featuring on my agenda.  Mind you, not all of that is work-related – the Jayplay and Explosions in the Sky gigs also loom imminently on the horizon, which will be good.

But just as I’ve been getting used to being at home for a prolonged period, it’s back to the usual pattern of busyness with trips both near and far.  Though I don’t mind, really – it’s rarely too long before my rested feet begin to itch again.

However, I approach my forthcoming trips to Edinburgh with some trepidation, because not only is the city being turned upside down and shaken vigorously due to the tram works, it’s also the Festival, which as any cultural historian will tell you was specifically created to annoy me.  If I get accosted by a leafletter wearing stilts inviting me to their performance of MacBeth on trampolines in a phonebox, or held up on the streets by a party of overwhelmed and overweight American tourists walking side by side to block up entire pavements, I might fail to be responsible for my own actions.

At least they’d probably write me off as a grumpy local, however, which is fine by me.

Moon

I went to Eden Court last night to see Moon, a film I’d heard a little about it and was keen to see.

The story is set in the near future, and revolves around an astronaut, Sam Bell, who is working alone for three years on a mining station on the moon, with only his computer for company.  I’ll not spoil the film by revealing the key development in the film, but you can probably predict the kind of mental, physical and emotional challenges that the situation presents to Sam.

The film’s tagline could almost be “One man on a routine mission in space, all alone.  Something’s bound to go wrong, otherwise you’d get bored watching.”  And indeed something does go wrong, the solitude of Sam’s existence making him reflect deeply and urgently on who he is and what he really knows about his life and work.

Such themes, and the way that Sam as the key character explores and resolves them, remind me strongly of The Island, a terrific (though admittedly not hugely original) film I saw once at the cinema and must get round to buying on DVD some time.

Moon looks and feels, however, quite different from The Island.  The scenes of the lunar landscape are an atmospheric blue-tinged black and white.  The interior of the base is spartan, almost retro.  In fact, Sam’s softly-spoken, unemotional computer, and the brilliant use of both silence and rhythmic piano score to create an atmosphere of tension, are strong and unashamed echoes of 2001: A Space Odyssey, the classic film by Stanley Kubrick based on the Arthur C Clarke novel of the same name.

I’ll be able to think more about the comparison between Moon and 2001 in a couple of weeks, in fact, as I’ll be back to Eden Court to watch it as part of its ongoing Kubrick season.

Finally, any endorsement of Moon must make mention of the brilliant Sam Rockwell, who plays the lead role of Sam Bell.  As the only meaningful character in the film, a great deal is required of him to keep our attention and keep the film ticking over.  His ability to convey a whole range of emotions and help us understand the difficulties he is facing as he comes to terms with what’s going on, is highly impressive.

While Moon is not a perfect film – there are a one or two bits and pieces that seem inconsistent – it’s a great concept, beautifully-directed and brilliantly acted.  The ending, too, is satisfying – a mix of a hopeful and optimistic tone, with a trail of interesting thoughts and questions about who we are and how we perceive our own reality.

I’d say it’s probably the best film I’ve seen at the cinema this year, although given that the only other ones I’ve made it to are Terminator: Salvation and Madagascar 2, that might not be the most helpful complement to pay it.

Out for a walk

Sadly I’ve forgotten my camera, so here’s an iPhone shot.

Some rather exciting news

I’ve been a little cryptic once or twice lately about all things mullet. Today, however, I can now reveal all: there is going to be a book!

It will tell the story of the early days of the mission – the first three adventures in Albania, Ireland and Australia.  And it’s rather sad to consider that this has been going long enough for there to be “early days”…

Publication will be some time in early 2010.  There is a lot more to tell and reflect upon regarding how this has come about and what lies ahead – but more to come on all of that over the coming weeks.

Suffice to say it is very exciting times…

Déjà vu

Following my earlier post about Dunrobin Castle and the Highland Clearances, it was something of a coincidence that I should sit down this evening to watch something I’ve been meaning to watch for a while – Who Do You Think You Are?’s episode with comedian and star of That Mitchell and Webb Look, David Mitchell.

David Mitchell’s family tree was explored in fascinating detail, featuring two strands: one a line of farmers in the far northern coast of Sutherland, and the other a minister’s family in Sleat at the south end of Skye.  While there was something predictable in this London-based show’s slightly patronising and dismissive treatment of the highlands and the Gaelic language, it was nevertheless an interesting watch, and neatly explored a little of the facts of the Highland Clearances that I reflected upon while writing my earlier blog entry.

It was also very nice to see a number of very beautiful, but also quite familiar, locations in the footage.  It’s well worth a watch, although of course the BBC iPlayer is only for those lucky enough to be citizens of this more or less United Kingdom.

Oh, and earlier in the evening, Nicole and I took an amble along the river and through the Ness Islands, rewarding ourselves afterwards with a pint at the ever-excellent Castle Tavern; and who should walk in as we exited, but Caley Thistle manager, assistant to George Burley, and patron saint of bloodied headbands, Terry Butcher.  He didn’t recognise me, though.

Not that he let on, anyway.

Dunrobin Castle

Yesterday, to take a break from all the painting, decorating and tidying of the flat, Nicole and I did a day trip to Dunrobin Castle.

On the east coast of Sutherland, just north of the town of Golspie and accessible via its own dedicated railway station, it’s a spectacular location in a beautiful part of the world.

It’s the seat of Clan Sutherland and historic home to the Dukes of Sutherland, and built in a striking French style with amazing riches to see inside, ornate gardens outside, a falconry and a great wee museum of archaeology and natural history next to the gardens.

While it was all highly impressive, there was something slightly missing, and that was a coherent introduction of the place and its inhabitants throughout the years.  The story was revealed bit by bit as you toured the building visiting each room, viewing the artwork and interpretations, and speaking to the guides.

However, at the risk of proposing something slightly tacky, the experience lacked a proper introduction upon entry, like an interactive display or a video to set the scene.

Of course, one reason why they haven’t done that might be that the full story of the Dukes of Sutherland would rightly have to illustrate that there is much blood on their hands, and the opulence of the castle is arguably in part at the expense of thousands of others: the people of the county of Sutherland suffered terribly during the Clearances at the hands of the then Duke of Sutherland (see the Undiscovered Scotland page on Golspie for a useful quick introduction to the story).

The empty countryside you travel through on the train up once the line swings inland after Tain is in stark contrast to the wealth of exhibits and artefacts in the castle.  The people were emptied from the land to go abroad; the castle was filled with riches from abroad.  An ironic swap and a matter of historical controversy.

Not that I wish to knock Dunrobin Castle too much – it’s a stunning building in a gorgeous part of the world, and in my mind is probably one of the biggest, most beautiful and most important castles in Scotland.  It’s great that, though privately-owned, it’s open to the public and as a day out is great value and highly interesting.

But for such a place at the heart of the story of the Clearances not to mention that part of history – even in passing – seems insensitive to those who know about it and misleading to those who don’t.  Indeed, the other manifestation of the Dukes of Sutherland on the landscape of the area is the massive statue referred to in the above article.

Not that Dunrobin should be unique in receiving such criticism, as I am struggling to recall ever seeing a museum that fully tells the story of the Clearances.  It’s something we might rightly expect of the museum of Inverness, here in the capital of the Highlands.  But the rubbishness of Inverness museum’s content and location is another debate entirely, and something of significant contention locally.

Anyway, here are my photos from yesterday.

False start

So, we’re only a week into the new season of Scottish football, and already the Old Firm have swept aside their opponents (one of whom, Aberdeen, really should be expected to do better).  Meanwhile the national team have lost heavily to Norway, and three teams who started their European campaign were out, mostly to embarrassing opposition, before the SPL had even begun.

Hardly a good state of affairs for the national game to be in.  Things really need a radical shape-up and I find my views aligning with much of what Ian Bell has written in today’s Sunday Herald.  While the SFA is a sluggish and incompetent organisation, it’s not just a bureaucratic or leadership problem – the demise of Scottish football has its cause in everything from Buckfast to PlayStations, political disinterest to social attitudes, deficient coaching cultures to club mismanagement, greenfield developments to crowded school curriculums.

It’s probably right that there ought to be some sort of national enquiry into how Scottish football could improve and be managed in the future – and that’s not a kneejerk reaction to a string of bad results domestically, in Europe and by the national team, it’s really something that’s festered for so long.

It’s perfectly credible, too, that our clubs and national side could be up there among the best.  After all, in the 1970s and 1980s we were among the big boys at both levels, producing a string of great individual players, famous club successes in Europe, and (by today’s standards) respectable performances from the national team.  Small countries can be successful – see punches above weight by national sides like Slovenia and Greece in recent years, or Portugal or the Netherlands on a more consistent basis, plus the club performances of at least those last two nations.  Consider also our growing successes and reputation (often despite a lack of resources, equipment, media attention or mass participation) in sports like cycling, tennis or snooker.

A national enquiry, commissioned by the Scottish Parliament, wouldn’t just be about naval-gazing either, or even about undue political interference in the national game.  If the causes of the problems in Scottish football have roots in everything from community cohesion to our drink problem, then surely to have a long, hard, independent and no-stone-unturned look at the game would be something that is of interest (and potential benefit) to the health, wealth and well-being of the nation as a whole.  Findings may even present lessons that are applicable to or have impacts on other nationally-important but struggling sports such as rugby and shinty.

I’m no expert on any of these subjects above, nor a particularly active or partisan football fan.  But I do care about the game and its ability to affect the mood of the nation.  So here are two admittedly amateurishly-written suggestions that I reckon any national enquiry into football should explore – but which I concede exclude the less tangible changes we need in the attitudes of local authorities, schools, players, families and politicians, which is a massive area I wouldn’t even know where to begin comment:

1. Summer football.  There were a flurry of reactionary articles in the past few weeks as Scottish teams (club and national) lost to those from countries who play from spring to autumn, and are therefore fully warmed-up when it comes to the start of the European fixtures in July and August.  Just because potential Norwegian or Russian opposition do it is no reason in itself for Scotland to do it, but there are plenty more reasons.  Our best weather is in the few weeks of the summer in June to August.  No matter how well you prepare for conditions, players and pitches are best in good weather, and it’s so much more enjoyable for fans, not to mention safer and less time-consuming to travel in good weather.  Football in January or February is – unless we equip all our clubs with decent pitches and potentially indoor facilities like in Norway – a ridiculous concept and it makes no sense that we continue it.
2. A football pyramid.  With no automatic relegation from the third division to the regional and junior leagues, teams are more likely to go out of business or be punished for maladministration than they are to be removed for football reasons.  There’s absolutely nothing to separate the best of the regional and junior clubs with much of the third division, a tier which contains clubs from small population bases and boasting pitiful attendances.  I’m not saying those clubs shouldn’t exist, but they should certainly be forced to justify themselves on the pitch as well as off it.
3. A merged football authority.  It impedes marketing, administration and the overall development of the game from the elite level to the community level that we have several bodies attempting to run the game – the SPL, the SFL, the SFA and no doubt others at the junior and amateur level.  Without an integrated body running the show, it’s hard to know who’s actually in charge and who can be held to account for the state of the game.
4. Money.  Whether from benevolent businessmen, the clubs themselves or the public purse, good sport requires money.  Money for teachers and coaches, for decent facilities, for travel and for marketing.  Not to say success can be bought, but you certainly can’t have success in your national game with no money at all.

Mind you, it’s not all doom and gloom – I think the ray of light this season is going to come from the first division, which like last year promises to be highly competitive and unpredictable.  In last week’s Sunday Herald, all the football pundits’ predictions for the season put Dundee as title winners.  I doubt it myself, and reckon it’ll be a close-run fight between them, Dunfermline and Inverness, with Ross County and Partick Thistle not too far behind.  It’ll be a cracker in the top half of that division this season, and I really ought to persuade myself to get to a game or two.