SONGS in my head today: Adeste fideles, We three kings, Hark the Herald Angels Sing, It came upon a Midnight clear, and many such christmassy cheerfulnesses. All thanks to the carol service yesterday which, being an usher at, meant standing all hour-and-a-half long. Which wasn't as bad as it could have been, as I'm a sucker for lustily-sung christmas carols and after a couple of them, the world seemed a beautiful, joyous place.

SAINTS of the day are the martyrs Rufus and Zosimus (107), who lost their lives during Trajan's persecutions.

SADDAM
Of all the reporting I've read, Jonathan Freedland's article best captures the weird, crazy disappointment/relief/contempt/satisfaction at Saddam turning out to be human and worse, pathetic at it.

"IT IS AS IT WAS" JP II likes The Passion. Here and here and here.

EXCELLENT! A little survey of travelling to Ethiopia, from another Genyaan blog. Inspiring stuff. Allow me to recommend his blog as well.

THE NILE KERFUFFLE there's a decent summary of the stuff and good links from mostly africa and it is here

JAMHURI DAY, you ask? There's very little to celebrate, apart from the fact that we're freer than at any time in our recent history, peaceful, and are undergoing (quietly!) quite the cultural revival. Beer's on me, form an orderly queue to the left...

KANU is up to its old tricks again. That great flushing sound you hear is what's left of my respect for Simeon Nyachae going down the toilet. A world-class administrator, who just doesn't understand that democracy involves actually listening to other people, is about the kindest possible thing that can now be said about him.


QUINE, v. (1) To deny resolutely the existence of importance of something real or significant. "Some philosophers have quined classes, and some have even quined physical objects." Occasionally used intr., e.g., "You think I quine, sir. I assure you I do not!" (2) n. The total aggregate sensory surface of the world; hence quinitis, irritation of the quine.
-the Philosophical Lexicon-

Songs in my head today, everything on La Boheme sung by Pavarotti et al.

Saint of the day is Lazarus, as in : "Lazarus, Come Forth!" (Robert Powell, 1977, Jesus of Nazareth, the miniseries)

Let's play a little game, right? How many anti-Kenyatta references can you spot in this poem?

A cockerel crows
as a broken axe
Falls at your feet.
Disarmed by time
You stand unashamed,
Crying 'it is not fair'.
Tied by your own hate traps
And fouled by the urine
of your flag bearers,
you have gambled away
the labours of the motherland
entered trade with death
to batter humanity
with the wave of a flywhisk.
You have locked up the fires
Of living youth,
Damned in the torrents
of conscience
and drenched your entrails
with greed and pride.

But you have lost the bet
and your line shall we
ostracise
Bury the stool of your mother's house
for vengeance is unleashed
and contempt is in our spittle.
And as public office
Zigzags corrupt
like the trail of a drunken whore
that menstruates,
and as gunmen freely execute
insane commands
We know that the time
has come to kill,
To cleanse,
To free our motherland
From the grip of a gambler.

-H.W.O. Okoth-Ogendo-

songs in my head today: Two Shots of Happy, One Shot of Sad(U2) and Nyimbo cia Mau-Mau Vol.1.

St. Damasus I (305?-384) is the saint of the day.

I have a presentation to do on Martha Nussbaum's Patriotism and Cosmopolitanism in about 11 minutes which I 've done about 2 hour's work for. Buggered doesn't even begin to cover it.

Songs in my head today: One (U2), Everlasting Love (U2), Strangers When We Meet (Bowie), Heart's Filthy Lesson (ditto), Kambi ya Langata and Kuuma Ndemi na Mathathi (both off Nyimbo cia Mau-Mau Vol.1)

Saint of the day is John Damascene, the last of the Greek Fathers and an interesting man for these interesting times.

Work has, through sheer sloth on my part, piled up to heights that threaten sanity, hence the longish gap between posts. All the same, there is some slight chance that the back of the beast will have been broken by the end of the week. Till then, no more posts.