March 17th, 2014


The Finest Wines Known To Humanity- Not

There's a big bottle rack in the corner of the garage. I'd assumed everything on it was home brew (and disgusting) but my sister went through it at the weekend and found several bottles of "real" wine my parents had stashed away and forgotten. I opened one of them yesterday. It was a Cotes du Roussillon- vintage 1990. Ailz and my mother liked it well enough but I thought it tasted of nothing very much- watered down vinegar perhaps.

Fred And Charles

Fred Phelps is in the news again but this time it's because he's dying so lets play pretty.

Not that he'd play pretty if it were someone he disapproved of that was dying. Given half a chance he'd be picketing the hospital telling them how much God hated them and how they were going to burn.

But really, it takes courage to be as horrid as Fred has set himself to be. I couldn't be that brave. Let's at least praise him for that.

As it happens I've been reading about Charles Borromeo.

Charles was a lot like Fred. He hated sin. He preached hell at people. He went out on the streets and demonstrated his contempt for everything human.

The difference is he lived in the Phelpsian universe of the late 16th century where preaching hell at people was the thing to do.

So Charles got to be Bishop of Milan and have a private army and burn people for real and not just in his imagination.  Then after his death they made him a saint of the Holy Catholic Church.

Whereas Fred has his tin tabernacle and a big file of newspaper cuttings and that's about it.