Milestones

It just occurred to me after posting the last entry that I have now passed three months as a blogger.

I hoped documenting the things that had been swirling around my head for so long would begin to change the reality around me. It has succeeded beyond my wildest dreams. Text in black and white has a power that spoken words don't, especially in a diffident and quiet voice such as mine.

"Blogging has changed my life" sounds like hyperbole, but it's the literal truth.

A Hostile World

It's been a very busy weekend. They are, these days. I'm not a naturally sociable person, and am aware that my default now that I live alone would be something of a hermit-like existence. I am also aware that if people invite me to activities, and I say no, those invitations will dwindle and stop. So I say yes. And I am busy. And this is good.

So having spent Friday evening in exceedingly enjoyable company, been out all Saturday (including a party), and also ventured out today for a Sunday roast at a friend's followed by a woodland photographic walk, I got home this evening to an answerphone message full of concern, thinking of me away from the brethren on a Sunday, and thinking how long and lonely the day must be. With no notion of the irony.

I write this blog based on the notion that I understand the brethren's point of view. Not that I claim any special knowledge, but just that I have been in close proximity more recently than most, and devoted a lot of thinking capacity to understanding the system. But one thing that mystifies me is the average brethren person's view of the outside world. It seems to be such a basic assumption that life will be terrible on the outside, that any other option is simply not imaginable. Why?

There have been brethren I have known who have spent time on the outside, and will speak with a shudder of the sensation of standing alone, feeling that life is empty and missing the meaning it once had. Obviously that is a biased selection, because these are people who have abandoned their attempts to live away from the brethren, but the interesting thing is that the majority of the brethren think the same whether they have experienced it or not. This makes me wonder whether it is the expectation which causes the experience to some extent. I can't say.

Philosophically I object to atheism, but one comment by an atheist does resonate with me, and that is that to admit that there is no meaning to life is to stand in a bracing wind of reality much more satisfying to a mature mind than a cosy shelter of make-believe. That resonates because I think that way of the brethren's life. As it happens, I do believe that life as a whole has meaning. But I do like that word "bracing" about being outside of the narrow meaning life used to have, and I can also understand that it isn't for everybody. I see others look at that bracing wind and turn away, thinking of it as an icy blast, and preferring to keep their hair shirts for warmth.

Reality is precious. It's not pleasant in every aspect, but I wouldn't settle for protection from the unpleasantness at the price of delusion, especially as the compensations are so great. I have been fortunate in having already experienced the kindness of strangers before ever leaving, which gave me the courage to make the break, and I have found so much more since. Wouldn't it be sad to think that the whole world was hostile except for the small community around you?

Purpose in Life

After I had stated that I was intending to leave the brethren, I had many dark warnings about the cold hard world outside, telling me that there was nobody caring, that everybody was, at base, selfish and nasty, and ready to use me for what they could get and treat me as disposable afterwards.

Up until now, I've been amazed at the kindness and general humanity I have found at every turn. Which makes it all the more shocking to come across vindication of those dark warnings from the last source I should expect.

It has made me think - not an uncommon reaction with me, you might say.

What am I doing? What is the point of me as a person? Should I crawl under a rock and pretend to the world I'm not really here? Is it really vanity that keeps me posting my thoughts to the wider world, and not a combination of record for the future and resolve-stiffener for the present, as I have been telling myself?

I have been reading instead of writing, and going over some old notes, which I have found to be quite reassuring.

The first quotation is from the wise and humane Isaiah Berlin:

Injustice, poverty, slavery, ignorance - these may be cured by reform or revolution. But men do not live only by fighting evils. They live by positive goals, individual and collective, a vast variety of them, seldom predictable, at times incompatible.

That, folks, makes sense to me. Yes, there are things in the world which need attention, evils to be addressed. Yet it seems to me to be unhealthy to be dominated by those evils, as though the burden of them is sufficient that they have won the fight before it's joined. To have as one's highest goal the destruction of something, however bad it may be, is to devote one's life to negativity. It is surely preferable to look at life as it could be, see the gains that could be made before they exist, and aim to change the world for the better in every small way one can. In other words, not to demolish the thing one objects to but supplant it with something better.

That's not always possible. Maybe not even often. But I, for one, think my life is happier for looking at it positively. And who says every purpose must make sense or be achievable as long as there's gain to had from the pursuit?

Next up is Marcel Proust:

"There is no man, however wise," he said to me, "who has not, at some time in his youth, said things, or even led a life, of which his memory is disagreeable and which he would wish to be abolished. But he absolutely should not regret it, because he can't be assured of becoming a sage - to the extent that that is possible - without having passed through all the ridiculous or odious incarnations that must precede that final incarnation."

Which is a long way of saying (as is Proust's wont) no regrets. I have a strange background. I have believed odd things. My life has been spent a peculiar way. But here I am, and all that has shaped me. If I wish it hadn't happened, not only am I wishing myself away, but I am losing the opportunity to learn from it all. Some people I have recently come across seem to feel deprived by their pasts, and rake over them with increasing bitterness rather than face the future squarely with the benefit of knowing how not to proceed.

I can't find the provenance of the next one, but I think it's relevant:

We most hate those who are most like us, but with their faults uncorrected.

This is quite a deep insight, I think, and those who have to do with the many varieties of brethren and ex-brethren can see how true it is. To an outsider, the differences are so slight as to be indistinguishable, but the little details that are not as they should be when perceived by a different group seem to fan hatred. I think it's as well to catch oneself in the tendency, and realise that if I'm looking at someone with hate, then they are more like me than I care to admit. The uncorrected faults are reason for pity, maybe, if I've corrected them in myself, but not more.

Some people appear to think that having been wrong in the past qualifies them as uniquely right in the present, and waste no opportunity of instructing others.

Finally, one that inspires me, and reminds me of the difference between my past life and the one ahead, from Jean Prevost by way of Clive James:

But my soul is a fire that suffers if it doesn't burn. I need three or four cubic feet of new ideas every day, as a steamboat needs coal.

Now there's something to live for.

All this is feeble philosophising as practised by a rank amateur. But it helps me, at any rate.

For Reader Information

I just sent an email to peebs.net as follows:

Some time has elapsed since our previous discussion, such as it was. I am prompted to write again by a conversation I have just had with a brethren visitor about my blog.

As I told him, the reason my blog is not publicly accessible is not my concern for the brethren's feelings, it is purely that I cannot live with the degree of exposure it was getting before. I even offered to let this brother into the list of invitees, as I don't have anything to hide in it, and it looks like he may well take me up on the offer.

So, my question is whether you would consider altering your previously stated position of republishing anything you see fit, regardless of author feelings, and leave my blog alone if I removed the protection on it. The protection is a pain in many ways, not least because there are new friends who I would like to be able to see the journey I've been on, and it isn't fair to make them jump through hoops to do so. My writing has become more personal in the time since you made free with it, and I shan't risk the same happening again, but I'd love to let the blog out of its prison.

I've said before that my musings are my own attempt to make sense of the life I've experienced. Reproducing them in the context of your site turns them into an attack on the brethren. That isn't what I ever intended, and nor am I in a position to withstand the possible legal onslaught if I am perceived to be an attacker regardless of intent.

Each time I've been in contact before, I've come away feeling absolutely infuriated, so I suppose this is a triumph of hope over experience. Still, the ball is in your court.

I'll also post this in my blog, so my readers (a select group I very much value) know that I've been trying to make life easier for them.

"The Survivor"

The Pros of Exes

I find myself in a particularly awkward situation. Can I possibly write about meeting people without being specific? My weekend has been about people.

The personal stuff can stay private, I think. Instead, here's some thoughts on ex-brethren.

It seems to be surprisingly common that people leaving the brethren don't want to have anything to do with the community of leavers. I share the tendency myself. It's something to do with feeling trapped and pigeon-holed. Having slowly and painfully come to terms with moving on from one community, the fellowship, the last thing one wants is a readymade alternative that's related and defined by the thing one is moving on from. It feels a bit like only half leaving.

Then there is the lifetime of indoctrination that says that people on the outside are not to be trusted, and that those bad enough to leave the chosen position are the worst of the lot, however nice they may pretend to be. You don't have to believe that to feel the effect of it, if only because the thought lurks in the back of the mind of one's friends and family sadly shaking their heads at the company one has fallen into. The fact that brethren have a gloomy expectation of leavers gathering together to boost each other's confidence, and telling each other that they've done the right thing, tends to induce a determination not to fit into the expected mould, and to do something entirely different.

This contrarian streak does have some definite positive aspects, as an aside: for one thing, it is noticeable that ex-brethren go out of their way to tolerant of obvious differences - though they find minor differences hard to take sometimes - and that has to be a good thing.

However, a passing remark yesterday made me think a bit. It was something to the effect that real friends are people who have some shared history.

I agree. And, that being the case, being as I have left behind everybody who fills that position best, I'd be a fool to ignore those who have some element of shared background - and that means ex-brethren. It's not about bad-mouthing where we've come from, it's about the relief of people knowing what the little references mean, not having to explain, just being ourselves without being wary of being different.

It takes a long time to build up true friendship, but if there is enough in common, then large steps can be taken quite fast. That's enough justification for overcoming a reluctance to become part of a ghetto, which is anyway a ghetto of the imagination, only as real as it's perceived to be.

Besides, I always found the majority of brethren to be decent, pleasant and friendly people, and I'm not surprised to find that those who've left are no different, and keener to show it. I met several for the first time yesterday, and would like to know them better. We barely had time to get past the "oh" as we mutually ditched our mental images for reality.

Whenever Ye Would, Ye Can Do Them Good

Yesterday, while at a birthday party for a Down's Syndrome woman, I was muddling myself pondering the differences in attitude to the disadvantaged between the brethren and outside.

Although I felt a bit out of place, since most of those at the party were quite familiar with each other (it was about half-and-half mentally disabled and carers/parents/friends), it was rewarding to see the interaction and sheer enjoyment. The birthday girl was overjoyed every time she opened another gift and found another token-stye present. I think there's something to learn there.

But what was puzzling me was considering how the brethren think of such people, and trying to decide whether blame outweighs praise or vice versa.

The good side is that anyone disabled in one way or another who is fortunate enough to be born among the brethren, can almost certainly rely on a secure and loving home. All the peer pressure runs in the direction of taking care of one's own, whatever the difficulties, and I have seen many families' devoted care to such disadvantaged people, and how happy they can be. I suspect that the rigid rules and routines also suit the less mentally capable.

But I felt bad on behalf of the community, even though I no longer count myself among them, because anyone on the outside, however needy, gets nothing, not even a thought. Yesterday I saw many people who devote some portion of their lives to making sure that the less fortunate have someone who cares. It may be a large part of their lives, or something they fit in around other things, but it's important in each case. Brethren just do not do that.

And I had never considered before the gain there is to be had from such activity. I'm sure it's selfless, but as with all selfless activity, it has rewards. Seeing a collection of people who could be thought pitiable, all happy and having fun, and displaying their considerable personalities, shifts one's outlook to humanity as a whole, I think. It's no wonder those who spend their time around such people tend to be cheerful and positive. I had always thought that attitude was part of what was required to go in for such work, but now I'm not so sure. I think the work encourages the positivity.

I'm not sure I shall go straight out and volunteer my help in caring for the disabled, but I'm glad to have the opportunity to think over these things, and who knows what the future may hold.

Piazzoforte

I didn't know there was any culture in my town.

So when I discovered an evening of music by piano and string quintet within walking distance of my house, it was worth mentioning to my key new friend. And as she sounded keen too, we arranged to go.

That meant quite a number of new experiences for me. This was my outing, and I haven't been a host before. Nor have I cooked a meal for anybody else. And my visitors, up to now, have been ones who require chairs and answers, no food, no drink, and are determined not to make themselves at home. Having a proper visitor was just a little bit worrying.

I didn't do too well, to be honest, as I missed the time for putting the food on to cook, and we had to bolt a small amount before walking rather more briskly than intended into town. Still, the conversation was good.

The music was much better than I expected, though. Chopin for forty minutes, then an interval, then forty minutes of the tangos of Astor Piazolla. The second half was very interesting to me indeed, and I felt obliged to buy the accompanying CD for further investigation. I'm not sure whether it was the smaller venue, the smaller sense of occasion, the music itself, the fact of having seen live music before, now, or a combination of all these things, but I felt much freer to just relax and enjoy myself this time round. I expended less mental effort on the experience as a whole, and much more on the music.

And I recommend Piazzoforte (the name of the ensemble) to anyone who likes classical music without any pretensions, and isn't too restricted in their opinion of what classical music is. These musicians certainly put their heart into the performance and didn't consider the material second-rate, and I was amazed how good they were.

Being a host will take more practice, though. I hope I get more opportunity.

Bible Language

Once again, something I have been reading has sparked off a train of thought that seems relevant, and I have been pondering it while doing a batch of baking, some ironing and some cleaning. My first non-brethren visitor comes tomorrow, and I've never been a host before.

But the thoughts were a useful distraction from nervousness, and the domestic work took no mental capacity.

The quotation these musings stem from is translated from Polish, and runs something like "the scriptures are a common good, for believers, agnostics and atheists alike."

In common with many others I have read of, I have found the bible becoming increasingly valuable as I let go of what I have been told it all means. In its classic form, it is an immensely deep and precious work of literature, rich in comment about the human condition, and presented in nigh-on perfect language. You only have to try to imagine Western civilisation without the bible to gain some idea of how central it is.

Having a brain not unlike a sponge, much of the phrasing and thoughts of the scriptures have taken root in my memory - more so with me than many brethren, and I think my relative proficiency in that regard adds to their ongoing conviction that I am not really serious about my criticism. I am glad of the knowledge, regardless of what they think.

I am intrigued to note that I share my favourite book of the bible with no less than Richard Dawkins - that is Ecclesiastes. Intrigued, but not surprised, as I have often thought that it comes very close to agnosticism at least. I can read Ecclesiastes repeatedly, and never cease to marvel at the wisdom and the poetic thought.

Of course my knowledge is based on the New Translation, but fortunately it isn't so far from the gold standard of the King James that the older language is hard to learn instead.

Which brings me to another thought, and that is the value of modern English translations. I have a book with several pages of parallel text, with different versions, and I have to say I no longer agree that modern language is always bad. It can be very good indeed. I understand from elsewhere that other languages don't have the same instinctive reaction as English speakers, that somehow anything less than archaic language is irreverent. Even so, I remain of the opinion that the Authorised Version was done so well that the others are more or less redundant.

But certainly modern translations tend more to the woefully bad than they should. Apparently T S Eliot said of one version that it was the work of men who didn't know they were atheists.

And that rounds off my thoughts nicely, as I have often thought similarly about the uninspired and unattractive language used by brethren.

More Marriage Thoughts

I think I have said before that one of my prime reasons for moving on from the brethren is that it was the only way to open up the way to relationships and settling down. Partly, as I said then, that's because of the dynamics of such things within the fellowship, which renders most options unattractive, but there is more.

Among the brethren, marriage is a defining point in life, not just personally but in terms of one's relationship with the wider whole. Nobody marries without approval, and approval is not given unless there is reasonable evidence that the individuals are good members of the community.

Then, a specific commitment to the way of life is included in the wedding vows. The form varies from place to place, but the version I recall being tacked on to the legally binding words is as follows:

"And I commit myself to uphold in our household the truth and scriptural principles as held among the brethren and set out in the ministries of the great men, with which I am in complete agreement."

The problem with that is that when you're standing in front of a large number of brethren, all gazing rapt at the bride and groom, they can see if you have your fingers crossed when you say it.

Even if the commitment was not made so specific, a reasonable person would take it as a given. After all, when one takes on joint responsibility for a household, and the likelihood of children, it ceases to become a matter for individual conscience whether one agrees with the system that household is set up in. One has to consider the opinions and feelings of the persons one is committed to.

Besides that, there is a fair amount of psychological study which says that people have a strong obligation to stay consistent with their public pronouncements. If you've declared before a hundred or more people that you're happy with their rules and beliefs, I would imagine that makes it hard to say "actually, I'm not."

One way or another, that was a closed-off road for me.

Separation

I feel very sorry for the little section of scripture in the second Epistle to Timothy, second chapter. It's not so much a source of doctrine as a hook to hang a doctrine on, and it groans under the strain.

As the saying goes: “No man ever believes that the Bible means what it says: He is always convinced that it says what he means”.

Several times recently I have found myself trying to explain the "exclusive" aspect of the brethren, and it's not an easy matter. OK, it's simple enough to set out the bare details, but getting across to an innocent outsider why the brethren don't see their behaviour as arrogant and holier-than-thou is another thing entirely. Yes, the brethren do tend to get infected with the notion that they are better than those around them, but it isn't inherent in the doctrine.

If you start by assuming that the world in general is going to hell, and rapidly, as the brethren do, then the decision to keep formally separate from it is not hard to understand. If, added to that assumption, you also conclude that you are unable to remain pure because of human weakness, it only strengthens that decision.

More than that, there is a heavy emphasis on "links", not unlike the famous six degrees of separation. The logic is that although the person nearest to hand may be OK, a fine upstanding citizen and possibly even Christian, there is no knowing who they may be connected to. If they own shares in a company, for example, they are joint owners of an entity in common with others of whom they know nothing, and the chances of there being no evil among the group are very slim. If brethren allow themselves any kind of connection with the good citizen, they would find themselves connected to that evil in a secondhand kind of way. And that cannot be allowed, whatever the hurt to this hypothetical citizen.

So when brethren refuse to do any of the things they consider to be acts of fellowship, it really isn't personal, however mistaken the doctrine is. And those acts include some very old-fashioned ideas such as eating together, which most modern-day people find very puzzling and insulting.

Anyone pointing out that Jesus ate with sinners will be met with a weary reaction. The brethren are used to that one. They know they aren't Christ, they will say, merely his followers, and while he was intrinsically pure, they can and would be corrupted.

As with so many things, it won't do much good to see flaws in the doctrine, because the doctrine comes first and rationalisation after.

Limits to Logic

I think it was Jonathon Swift who said that it was no use trying to reason a man out of what he was never reasoned into. He's a good man for a quote: I've always thought of his comment about having just enough religion to hate, yet not enough to love one another.

But anyway, back to the first quote, which came to mind last night when in conversation with some more friendly brethren. We concluded that logic wouldn't bridge our difference of opinion, but whereas to me that signifies a problem with what the brethren believe, to them it means that logic is an unreliable guide.

Which is true to some extent. Emotional matters are not susceptible to reason, for a start. However, I do think that any rules for life should have at least some backing by reason, and that's where we differ. I can approach that difference from any angle, and I can't convey it. None of my visitors tries much logic, as I have a reputation for picking that line of things apart, but they are usually at pains to mention that logic has its limits. That leaves me with very little to explain of my dissatisfaction with their system.

I think Swift's point was that if someone's opinion is based on an analysis of a situation and a sober judgment in consequence, then by questioning either the steps in that reasoning or the facts it's based on, one can change their mind. If there is no such structure, but the opinion exists in isolation, there is no point of attack, even when the conclusion is obviously flawed.

All I can do, in this case, is say that while I'm pleased the brethren system is working for them, it doesn't for me. At a very deep level, it just feels wrong. While they're slightly hurt and puzzled by that, it is something they can take in.

To then speak to someone else, nothing to do with the brethren, is both a relief and a jarring shock. Things which have to be taken as assumptions when speaking to brethren suddenly become bizarre and questionable when explaining them to an outsider. Even the fact that there was no point offering my visitors a cup of tea. Suddenly shifting modes of thought is actually quite stressful.

One interesting fact emerged, and that is that as far as the brethren are concerned I could go back to the meetings today if I wanted. It's odd that the difference, in that sense, is presented as being on my side. What seems odd to them, in return, is that I am cordial and friendly and willing to talk, yet remain unpersuaded. Brethren thought says that only bitterness against the position can explain why somebody wouldn't want to be involved if they could. I think they think I'm only pretending to be uninterested, and will give it up soon.

Cycling Around the Rules

I remain somewhat puzzled by my experiences of leaving the brethren. The complete - if reluctant - rejection I had been led to expect has not transpired. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, exactly, because all along I have found that nobody worries as much about what I do as others would say they should.

Is it just me, or is it wider? If it is wider, as I suspect, is it a change, a tendency, temporary or permanent?

To judge by history, the most accurate estimation is that it's a temporary shift. But that doesn't quite do justice to the complexity of the way these things work.

Although I am not old enough to have experienced any of the major crises in brethren history, I have been around for long enough to see the wheel turn. These things usually have a geographical aspect, and here in the UK there was a distinctly slapdash period in the early nineties for those of my age. Many a blind eye was turned as we did almost whatever we liked. I imagine those older would like to think they were unaware, but if they were honest I think things were simply out of their control. It wasn't official doctrine to be loose, just that they couldn't face the consequences of what official doctrine demanded in such circumstances.

Then, at some point, something has to be done. There is normally some trigger, and then action is taken. From that point, the rules (which always existed) are enforced more vigourously, as everyone is horribly aware how easily behaviour can slip beyond what feels possible to correct. That continues as long as the memory lasts, which means the cycle tends to be a generational one.

At the same time, there is a slightly mismatched doctrinal cycle. The emphasis can be either on maintaining the purity of the assembly, which implies harsh treatment in reality, or the pastoral care of precious individuals, which leads to apparent overlooking of serious faults. I've never been sure what drives this cycle, but it's quite obvious. "The review" was merely the most abrupt shift I've seen, not the only one.

However, things never return to a previous state exactly. For one thing, each shift has to have a stated justification, which amounts to new doctrine. That then cannot be ignored in the future, because nothing is ever wrong - the most that can be allowed is that statements were misinterpreted.

So the current situation is one in which the rules are enforced, and few around here, by my observation, are doing much outside the rules. However, the shock of the change in emphasis a few years ago is still very strong in official minds, and therefore the treatment of the few who don't toe the line has a noticeable kid-glove component. That's an unusual combination as far as I can remember. I would have expected a return to grieved harshness by now. I can only think that the shock has rendered that almost impossible. It will take some very serious reinterpretation of the recent instructions to go back to instant ejection, even though I consider the current framework to be absolutely impossible for anyone wishing to be consistent.

My less official visitors tell me that they feel much better about the way things are now, and that they are relieved that the more official ones are no longer compelled to issue harsh treatment. Some even seem to think that they weren't so much compelled as keen to exercise their power, but I haven't seen that for myself. As with any shift, the new way is the way things should always have been, and it is very sad that it was ever otherwise. Always, always, it is the fault of mistaken or evil individuals that history is as it is, not the system.

Only time will tell how much of the current easing will continue. Cynicism says the pendulum will swing, but observation says that it will take more effort this time.

Forbidden Ordinariness

Through bad planning, I will be late to bed tonight. When I have cooked a meal before, I have a good idea of when it will be ready, but I don't have a wide enough repertoire yet to rely only on familiar things. With new recipes, Hofstadter's law applies: a task always takes longer than you think it will, even when you take Hofstadter's law into account. Fortunately I cooked enough to put one complete meal in the freezer, with some other components left over to simplify some other meals too, which is pleasingly economical on both time and resources.

So, reflections on a Saturday. One spent on my own in the absence of the person whose further acquaintance is my current project.

As my clothes requirements are a little different to what they were, I decided to go shopping for some. Also, as I needed distraction, I thought maybe I could visit a cinema - something I haven't done in quite a long time, since losing my old movie-watching companions rendered it a solitary activity. It isn't quite the same without people to compare notes with.

It wasn't strictly necessary, but that plan made me decide that London was the place to go.

The great benefit of that is that I can more or less guarantee not to meet any brethren. London is firmly out of bounds except on "king's business" (anything to do with brethren management) or, if sufficiently important, just plain business. London, you see, is a risk. People set off bombs there. Besides, it's cosmopolitan, and that makes it no place for a christian. You get all sorts in London. Actually, that's part of the reason I like it. I reckon native English-speakers are in a minority, and it's pretty much a land of its own, nothing much to do with the rest of the UK.

Shopping isn't an approved activity, either. Brethren are often quite keen on it in spite of that, but ideally they shouldn't worry enough about their appearance to wish to spend time choosing clothes. "The bargain counter" is a phrase used by those wishing to push the point in meetings. In actuality, of course, it is quite noticeable that brethren have fashions of their own, only loosely related to the fashions on the outside, but just as shifting and vitally - if superficially - important. Still, shopping is near enough to recreation that doing it on the Sabbath (Saturday, not Sunday, but Sunday would be even worse) is frowned upon.

And, of course, cinemas are the gates of hell. Personally I enjoy the ambience, but apparently the fact that I don't feel the breath of the devil while in my tip-up seat is a worrying sign that I may not even be a christian. It's understandable that anyone might be tempted into such wickedness, but I should at least have the grace to feel horribly guilty about it.

Recreation in general is not really on, anyway. It is permitted to enjoy activities, but only as long as one doesn't engage in them solely for that reason. Brethren often get very good at constructing elaborate fig-leaves of earnest justification for things they enjoy. The happiest are those whose natures allow them to enjoy the activities that are compulsory, and it often escapes everybody's attention that having inclinations that run that way doesn't make them inherently more spiritual.

So, to sum up my ramble, my perfectly ordinary day buying two pairs of jeans and seeing the Simpsons movie with running commentary from a small child across the aisle, would in fact be a source of horror to my old friends and relatives. Hopefully tomorrow will bring more such forbidden and morally dangerous things to do.

On a Bed of Sickness

I have just had two of my regular visitors again. As usual, we spent a large majority of the time discussing anything but the situation. Small talk is much easier when there are big subjects to be avoided.

We spent quite a while discussing medicine, and the training required. One of the discussers has tangential experience of such things.

Brethren are big fans of medicine. At some point it became established doctrine that it is a christian's duty to stay alive and healthy just as long as they possibly can, on the grounds that this life is what an individual uses to please God, and that should be maximised. I can recall many occasions when the phrase "one more day for one more impression of Christ" was trotted out as somebody's dwindling life was extended by any means possible. In other words, nothing can be added to one's spiritual knowledge after death, so any extension of time that could be used for learning should be seized at any expense and trouble.

In the last twenty years, that doctrine has also been extended to prohibit unnecessary risk, on the same grounds. And risk, for brethren, can cover things from travelling in an aircraft with only one engine, to children cycling for fun.

It may seem a little odd that the same group can be cheerful about a deceased member, thinking of them as having moved on to a better place, and yet expend so much effort on treating illness, but it is mainstream thought in evangelical christianity. Life is precious. Full stop.

That means there is considerable support for anyone with a serious illness. If someone is unable to get satisfactory treatment locally, and possibly suitable treatment exists somewhere else, they will almost certainly go and get that treatment. It may cost vast amounts of money, but that money will come from somewhere, even if an entire country's brethren population has to get regular reminders of how much is required.

Meanwhile, much attention will be given to what the illness means. Sickness or injury never just happens, it is always intended for something. The brethren are meant to gain from it, and feel duty bound to uncover what it is that is supposed to change, to ensure that the suffering doesn't happen for nothing. It is one of the main ways God has of speaking to the brethren, and the congregation had better take notice. But the person concerned is generally reckoned to be an example for good, or they wouldn't have been singled out for the problem, after all "whom the Lord loves, he chastens".

And, of course, sick brethren are staples of the prayer meeting. In a worldwide community of several thousand, there will usually be enough people lying grievously ill to go around the number of brothers praying, and you can get a fervent "amen" for remembering one that others feel they should have thought of.

Aberdeen

One by one, I tick off the subjects and controversies that a person who has differences with the brethren is expected to have opinions on.

As so often with these much-covered areas, I don't have much to say. Nineteen-seventy is a long time ago for me and those of my age, and our thoughts are shaped by the historical nature of the events, not by remembered strength of feeling.

And, as such, we tend not to care very much about this one, any more than we do about the doctrinal divisions around the turn of the last century.

Personally, I have heard both sides of the story of James Taylor Junior and the outrageous behaviour in Aberdeen, Scotland. The fact that there is no middle ground, and that the facts vary so wildly before even starting on the interpretation, makes me shrug and accept that I will never know what actually happened. I genuinely have no opinion whatsoever on it. I have heard recordings of the man around that time, and didn't much like what I heard, but that's all. It seems kind of unlikely that the whole thing was an elaborate charade, but who am I to say it wasn't? I don't care enough to get into the argument.

For the brethren, a majority of whom are probably too young to remember the events, their stance on the matter is justified by history since. Without, as I say, any particular strength of feeling, those of my age group simply assume the best possible interpretation of the events, and many are keen to hear stories of those exciting times. Any hint of a question is met with the unanswerable observation that the only collective position that has thrived is the one that stuck by the man whose morality is being queried. For brethren, with their sense of destiny and knowledge of God's care of them above all others on Earth, that is quite sufficient retrospective justification for whatever went on, being a signal of divine approval.

It's a bit like history being written by the victors. As the brethren are the assembly, they are entitled to say what the facts are, even about the past.

Words and their Uses

Earlier in the week I was reading about the misuse of language by tyrannies, a connection which (as the essay said) George Orwell made so clear and obvious that it almost seems that the evil is caused by the words and not the other way around. Then yesterday there was an article by Martin Amis which made it plain that he considers language to be a giveaway of the users' levels of morality. It's an interesting piece, incidentally, on liberals' attitudes to fundamentalism, and while it's not totally coherent, it's worth reading - in The Times (UK).

It set me on a train of thought about words.

The brethren have a vocabulary and phrasebook of their own, which is probably more confusing for outsiders because most of the words are standard English, but with non-standard meanings. One example which has gained currency in the last twenty years is "momentary". A dictionary definition would tell you this means brief or instantaneous. For brethren, it means "constant", in the sense of something continuing consciously from moment to moment and being maintained. That example springs to mind because it has always rankled with me that a useful word can have its meaning altered so abruptly and massively.

The subject is one which has been studied by renowned thinkers for a very long time, but it's worth saying again that it's not socially healthy to appropriate words into a system. I disagree with those who say it's impossible to think something one has no words for, but it is a fact that words and their implied meanings shape the thoughts, and shared meanings help to shore up shared values.

Take the big one: Truth. This is a valuable concept in morality, the idea that something can be verifiable and reliable, and I've often thought how subtle it is; not so much to do with fact as the stated existence of fact, and a provable correlation between the statement and the reality. The mark of a really useful word is that it has a clear meaning that is hard to convey by other means, and that definitely applies to this one. Children pick up the idea by usage, not by definitions.

So how does it affect people if the word is constantly used as part of the phrase "The Truth", meaning the interwoven doctrine and values that the brethren hold? I can't answer fully, but it seems clear to me that it is a classic example of authority imposing thoughts by means of meanings, if that makes sense.

By adding a definite article to an abstract noun, the brethren are appropriating the very idea, and making it (aptly) exclusive to themselves. That automatically casts doubt on everything outside of what it is taken to refer to, just as a habit of thought, once the two are connected in the mind. Truth, and what the brethren believe, become one and the same thing, and anything else is, by definition, false. There are many subtle effects of thinking like that, among which is a lack of trust of anyone outside the circle. It's not healthy, and to me it seems to devalue the real meaning of the word.

There must be an enormous number of other examples, but I don't think going through them would add anything to the point, so I'll digress instead, to mention a word I can remember being coined by a girl among the brethren that has gained considerable currency in the area. It's long been a fascination to me to see an unknown word take life over years.

The word is "goshy". It is a classic example of a word that's useful because it has no direct equivalents. When people encounter it, they tend to take quite a while to understand what it means, because nobody has ever successfully defined it - only context seems to make it clear. However, I'll have a stab. It's an adjective, used of things which are endearingly embarrassing. So you can have goshy behaviour, as when you affectionately cringe at something a loved one does in public, or you can have a goshy situation, when a group of friends become collectively flustered over something that shouldn't have been allowed to happen. I doubt that's enough to explain it, but I'd like to spread the word.

Work and Non-Work

My job is gradually becoming less of a focal point in my life. This is a good thing.

I'm not sure exactly what the causes of the change are. A large part of the reason may be that I have a lot to think about, and even more to feel, and that leaves less room in my head for the remaining familiar and mundane aspects of my life. Another part is that work is now just work, and not a major component in an endless rush from activity to activity, which means the time doesn't loom as large as it did.

A more subtle change is that I am no longer constantly surrounded by an extreme version of the protestant work ethic. Over the last few decades, business has become a very large part of brethren life, with the making of money seen as a sign of God's approval of a lifestyle. What's more, the general brethren attitude to any kind of activity is that it is either not fitting to a christian, and therefore to be minimised if not cut out entirely, or suitable, in which case every effort should be made to do it in a thorough and disciplined way. Work is one of the fitting activities, and is consequently the focus of much attention.

That makes work life very intense, and as someone who needs mental space to function effectively, I find it hard. That's without considering that I have more tasks to do than I can possibly achieve, and nobody else seems able or willing to do any of them. Still, I find it easier to switch off now, and knowing that I am no longer tied to a life sentence helps too.

Interestingly, there is also a brethren version of the work/life balance effort. For unmarried people like myself, it doesn't apply so much. Early starts are obligatory if not quite mandatory. Working late or on non-work days is strongly discouraged though. Married men are encouraged to start early too, but are meant to be home in time to see their children come home from school. Those, such as business-owners with control over their time, should ideally go home for breakfast (and a morning reading of the bible) with their family too. The doctrine says that blessing will come from dedication to family ahead of business, as long as the business effort is disciplined.

The messages for women are mixed, as in much else. Married women have always been forbidden to work, but that has been relaxed a little, both for those with not much else to do and in cases where fledgling businesses need help from any family members they can call up. Girls are not to get married until they are mature enough and have experienced life first, but even then it is thought to be ideal if they could manage without having to be defiled by the work environment. If they do work (and most do), it will be very rare that they avoid the stereotypical women's work, even particularly capable women who sadly have never got married.

Still, somehow the importance of work seems to permeate much of brethren life, and even the balance has a compulsory feel. The whole attitude is taking its time to leave me, and I hope some of the useful aspects will stay, but I am glad not to be stuck with the full-on experience all my life.

Getting Personal

I have stuck to one rule quite firmly, and that is that I don't write about any particular individuals. I don't know exactly why, but it just feels better that way, I suppose because I already struggle with knowing that whatever I write would be hurting somebody.

It's becoming harder to abide by that rule, though. A large part of my tentative pathway out into this big bad world is the people I meet and especially those who help to make it worth it. I'm stuck between wanting add my feelings about that to my feelings about everything else, and not wishing to spoil any interpersonal stuff by unnecessary publicity. I suspect it would be hard to remain natural if I was constantly checking boxes in the back of my head, thinking "yes, I can use that" or, "no, that's off limits". Not to mention my companion(s) wondering whether they're going to appear in words over the next few days.

Maybe I'll find some way through the tangle, but for the moment oblique references seem to be the best I can do.

Outpouring of the Soul

Troubles and creation go together.

Apparently that's not universal, as I have read of some great artists who were completely unable to work unless everything in their lives was just so. However, I think it is more often the case that art flowers in adversity. I have been considering two related but opposed aspects of that.

One occurred to me while looking around a crafts superstore yesterday after picking up a picture frame. It's a while since I did any painting, and I find my fingers itching to get going, a feeling aggravated by discussions with a new friend who draws. That drive has been subdued for a few years, down to the level of a vague inclination, which is not enough to spark the actual act of creation, yet it now returns in force. I can only conclude that changes and difficulties, mental and emotional struggles, all build up something that needs an outlet.

My question is: what do other people do about that?

Photography is something I do when things are going well, as it's more of a process of capturing slices of reality than pure creation, but in times of problems, there are other ways of releasing what's inside. I write prose, as anyone reading this can see (and I wish I knew what people saw in my writing), and have been known to dabble in poetry, and, as I have just been saying, there is painting. Furniture-making is more considered, but can also be a release, as can intellectual forms of creativity such as computer coding. I have a range of options from the utterly free (silk dyes) to the restrictive and immersive (coding), all of which work in their own ways.

Seeing the large queues at the crafts place yesterday, others must feel similarly, yet I don't know many people who create on a regular basis. What, then, is the more general outlet? If someone can't make their emotions concrete by external means, do they just fester, or do they have other ways of getting through? Or does it just mean that they hang on to the good times at whatever cost, and fall to pieces when things are bad? What other activities can work in the same way?

My other question comes from seeing the range of works of art that have resulted from people's personal agony. Can the art justify - to any extent - their suffering? It feels almost selfish to enjoy and marvel at some things, and think that if the person had led a happy life we wouldn't have the art, and would be poorer for the gap.

This follows on in many ways from my thoughts about needing dark times in ones life to give relief to the happy times, which is an opinion I stand by, but is a more complex way of looking at the same subject.

In case anyone thinks I'm about to produce some great works of art - don't hold your breath. What I'm talking about is personal, and the process is more important than the result. All my previous artworks have been given away, because they've done their job by the time they're finished.

Music for Brethren, pt 4

This time, this is sparked by seeing a great product. I won't buy this, but I am tempted: a leather cover for an iPod, complete with gilt "Hymn Book" marking, and an elastic strap just like the levitical notebooks. Link.

But anyway, here's another pair of songs:

"Silent All These Years" by Tori Amos. "Got the AntiChrist in the kitchen yelling at me again".

"Glory Train" by Randy Newman, from "Randy Newman's Faust". Actually, I could fill many of these postings with Randy Newman.

OK then: Politics

I'll be honest: I have been avoiding this subject. But I have a few minutes before this evening's official visitors arrive, so I will note the little I know.

And that's the key. Politics and the brethren are an explosive mix, number one in the interest stakes, generating actual, real news in the wider world, not just among former brethren. But I know practically nothing about it.

It's no secret within the brethren that there is a program of engagement with government. There is a wide pool of people deputised to study what goes on, with the aim of applying influence - and prayer - early to any issues that may affect the fellowship. That is co-ordinated, and letters are regularly read out at meetings summarising anything that is felt to be important. So everybody is aware that things are happening.

That's where my information stops. All this is presented as dealing with government, not politics. Nobody among the rank and file ever hears about the deeper involvement, or the money spent. It's only recent that the brethren have even taken sides in elections. The old attitude was for prayer to arise for "more suitable government" if the current one was not to taste, or for "the continuance of good government" if it was, but it was always felt to be way below the standard to be for or against particular people or associations of people. That has shifted, obviously, and brethren in general are awe-struck at the wisdom of the new doctrine that they should openly favour those who have the best policies for them. It's held to be very open-minded and large-hearted to care so much about the mass of heathendom outside.

Brethren do hear about the negative news coverage, but never about the causes for it. Consequently it is always proof of the devil's attack against right actions. I have said before that it may be mistaken to wish for media campaigns, and it is in this arena that I have seen the effects most clearly. Negative reporting and comment merely leads to a discounting of external views.

When you consider that brethren are conservative in social matters above all, and positively Victorian in their attitudes, it's not surprising that they tend to favour parties of the right. It's not a foregone conclusion, though, and if neither party is prepared to make any noises about moral matters, I'd guess the brethren will sit back as before and attempt to influence whoever wins. That's how it has been in the UK, although it may change.

But then the brethren may have been pumping money into the system already, and may have a big embarrassing campaign waiting to go. I have no way of knowing, and nor will most others on the inside.

It's all a big puzzle. The whole thing seems such a grave mistake, and with so many downsides, that I wonder if there is more to it than meets the eye. Can there be some master-plan that will reap dividends out of the seeming shambles? Or is it all as stupid as it appears?

Discussing Religion

I was reminded a few days ago that it is a long-standing social rule that one never discusses politics or religion. It's certainly interesting to see the heat generated in forums where other factors override that rule.

On thinking about it, I can see that both subjects are classic examples of a certain sort of topic: those that are not dependent on facts, yet where people tend to have quite rigid views. Therefore the natural state is disagreement without resolution. Generally, people don't like disagreeing, and nor do they like changing their minds. Smooth relations rely on remembering both facts.

What has made me focus on this is the question that has arisen from a number of directions about the best way to influence, persuade, help or reason with brethren.

Let me turn this around.

The brethren KNOW they're right and you're wrong, just as much as you know the reverse. Facts and logic have nothing to do with it; we're talking convictions, which facts can always support if you try hard enough. So anyone trying to persuade brethren should ask themselves "Is there anything they could say to me which would convince me they're right?"

I'm guessing that for most people the answer is "no", but it's worth thinking about it, to see if some fact or argument might exist that would be persuasive - not a real fact, but something that, although not so, would be convincing if proved true.

If the answer is still that they could never persuade you, then congratulations. You have successfully put yourself in the brethren's shoes, and know how it feels.

Many issues can be proved one way or another, by reference to undeniable fact. In subjects where facts are not the basis, searching for unanswerable arguments is a waste of effort. Sorry if that seems unnecessarily negative to anyone eager to make a difference. Maybe one of these days I'll think of something that could actually help.

Moods

While listening to a rerun of Tuesday's Prom and attempting to make a company form look elegant using nothing but Excel, I have been pondering feelings.

We take it for granted, but moods can be very mixed and complex. In my current circumstances, I am aware of a background guilt that I feel OK, of feeling bad that I feel good, of awareness of sadness overlaid with the knowledge that it isn't the most important thing. That's quite a muddle of positive and negative, and I wouldn't mind betting that many people know exactly what I mean.

One very firm anchor in my emotional life is the memory of what it is like to be truly depressed. I can recall being unable to do anything but lie in bed and leak tears, and I would probably have been unable to move even for a fire that threatened the house. During emotional times, that remains the benchmark, and almost any mood becomes bearable by comparison. Anything, in the ordinary way, is susceptible to action, and the feelings trail along behind the thoughts, which are pulled by a program of things to do.

What I have learned is that circumstances and emotions are only loosely connected. If, as I have experienced, it is possible to feel utterly miserable without ever finding a single thing to point to that could justify the black depths, then it must be possible to maintain a positive mood in dark hours. And it is, at least as far as I have tested the theorem. It's a shocking realisation that something (in my case, I strongly suspect some food component) can reach into one's head, into what is considered the self, and alter the dials, but that, crudely, is what happens in both depression and mania. The upside is that one can learn to nudge those dials a little oneself.

Dragging in a brethren connection, it is striking that religion doesn't seem to help much in such cases. I remember one brother who used to say with monotonous regularity, often to someone with a wife who had severe depression, that it wasn't christian to stay depressed. Then his own son was struck down by the same thing, and he was gracious enough to admit that he had been wrong, and that the official brethren doctrine that depression is a health issue was actually correct. As such, for brethren, it requires treatment, not priestly care. Religious faith, like anything else, can become a hollow shell acknowledged in the mind but unfelt beneath that, when undermined by depression.

Just to be clear, I am not feeling anything like that now, and nor have I for some time. And that proves beyond all doubt that difficult times and difficult moods do NOT have to go together.

Anyone who wants the soundtrack to this post can find it at http://www.bbc.co.uk/proms/2007/promsbroadcast/radio.

Things Learned

For some reason I have been thinking back over the first three weeks of living alone and enumerating the lessons that have come my way. Not in any kind of order:

* Don't put the cordless phone base station next to the amplifier.

* Vacuum before you think it needs it, and the same goes for mowing the lawn.

* Always take the battery out of the smoke detector before grilling.

* Self-adhesive wall hooks sound good, but they don't work.

* There is no time you can start cooking dinner safe in the knowledge no-one will call. And it's more friendly in the long-term to say if you're busy rather than spoil things in silence.

* It takes the same total time and much less effort to shop three times a week without worrying about missing items as it does to try to do it all at once.

* Don't buy fresh vegetables on spec. Know what they'll be used for, and when, or buy frozen. No, AND buy frozen.

* There is no such thing as finishing furnishing.

* If a recipe calls for white wine, don't use white wine vinegar thinking it'll be similar. It might work, but dilute it.

* Washed clothes take more than a few minutes to dry. More than a few hours, sometimes, depending on the weather.

* If things are piled neatly enough, it looks like you've put them away. That works better for boxes of items than it does for clothes.

* It takes ten minutes longer to get out of the door if you're not leaving anyone behind in the house.

* Recipes are overrated, and most savoury dishes can be cooked by a mixture of instinct and the cooking times on the packaging.

* Put away the previous washing up before starting any more, or the new will make the old wet again, and you'll run out of rack space.

And, the biggest lesson:

* Despite many dark warnings, most things are possible if you give them a go in a positive kind of way.

But isn't it shocking how many things I didn't know? I expect there's many more yet.

Prom

It's a period of first times. Not as many as perhaps there should be, as I ducked out of the sheltered upbringing on occasion, but there are still many things I haven't done.

One less as of tonight, and that is seeing a live orchestra.

I found it unexpectedly distracting, if I'm honest, but in a good way. My experience of music is auditory only, and solitary more often than not. Being a very visual person, that suits me well. Seeing the music performed changes the experience entirely, and I become aware of the personalities involved and where the sound comes from.

It is theatre, without doubt. Obviously I have little to compare with, so I don't know if this was typical. The conductor acted at times like a superhero, vanquishing the evils of non-music armed only with a slim stick, but it was hard work for him. Besides that, he reminded me of the times I've attempted to walk around a department store not in time to the music. He was always a little ahead, and I had understood that above everything he should keep with the rhythm. That was a naïve expectation, as I could begin to see how his actions foreshadowed the music's development a beat in advance.

The surroundings combine the decorative style of a lush cinema (OK, less tasteless by a small margin) with the circularity and serious focus of an old brethren's meeting room. For me they do, anyway.

I'll reserve judgment on the music until I've had a chance to compare it with the same thing in a familiar environment. I enjoyed it, and found it interesting, but I don't know yet if I liked it. I would have enjoyed an evening of almost anything novel with friends.

Work Work Work

It's ironic that having spent my working life chafing against the limitations of what it is possible to do among the brethren, my final leap to freedom takes place when I am getting more work satisfaction than before.

Until my final years at school, the path ahead was one of working in a trade. Brethren mostly seemed to work with their hands or supported others who did so. I spent my school holidays doing building work, and have been glad ever since that I did. Then there was quite an abrupt shift from tradesmen to trading, and within quite a short space of time practically everybody was in the buying and selling business. The reasons given were that there was less defilement, as you don't have to mix so closely or enter people's houses, and of course the potential for increased income. That began to be very important as the cost of living in the fellowship increased.

I was one of the early ones required to spend an extra two years in schooling, so my earning started late. Since then, the leaving age has reduced again by a year. That did mean I achieved some extra qualifications, but I haven't found a use for them yet, as they are conventionally used as a means of getting into university.

With all brethren businesses being variations on a theme, and the only difference often being the contents of the boxes on the warehouse shelves, it will be obvious there is not a great choice of careers. There is an unacknowledged hierarchy of jobs within those limits, though. Sales is at the top if you don't count management - which is obligatory for family members and not an option for anyone else. More recently there has been an effort to boost the standing and rewards of working in purchasing and accounts, and marketing has made an appearance as a separate entity instead of a side issue. Still, though, the people who actually bring in the orders are the ones to be emulated. As for warehouse work, that is usually done by non-brethren, so it doesn't count for much.

I have experienced most of the roles possible. To be honest, none of them suit me particularly, though I am glad to have had the experience. I started, kind of accidentally, managing sites, but a feature of my working life has been taking on tasks that need rapid picking up, and the first of those was the sudden responsibility for a company's accounts because the previous person left. I still have a lot of respect for my boss at the time, who was a practical man with a clear idea of his limits in the paperwork direction, and who took his christianity seriously enough to be totally transparent about the running of his company. All the figures went through my hands, and I was only eighteen - and that included management salaries and banking details. His working method was to leave specific people to do the things he found difficult himself, and judge by the results. Needless to say, he's rare in that, and in the openness, and despised by other more obviously successful brethren.

Accounting, though, is deathly dull, and I couldn't stand it for long.

Still, if I go through my working life, this will be too long. I'll return to what it's like to work in a brethren company another time.

Touched

It's been to busy to comment this evening. I had a list of things to do, and haven't accomplished them all. Last on the list was an early night in preparation for an outing tomorrow evening - that item doesn't look likely either.

I hadn't bargained on calls from friends. I have spoken to four by phone since coming home from work, and none of them are brethren. That is a lot more (even if coincidental) than I would have predicted for an average Monday night three weeks after leaving home and the brethren.

It's quite heart-warming. Nobody could call me outgoing, and I had anticipated some emotional stress replacing a long-standing circle of friends. On past performance, most new friends would be the distant email-writing kind. Well, there are those too, and I'm very pleased to know you (you know who you are), but I am very cheered to find that it isn't only that.

Long may it last, and much may it develop. It means a lot.

Sunday Atheism Review

Today I got a Sunday paper. Bad man! News on a Lordsday!

I say "got", not "bought", because I subscribe, and that gives me vouchers to use every day of the week. It's still cheaper even for six days, and the Sunday papers have always seemed a bit too padded. Still, today I shopped, and remembered my voucher, so there was no point passing it up.

And apart from being very marginally more informed than I might have been about things in general, I was very glad to read about someone else's troubles with the religion debate. John Humphreys, of the BBC, has written a book about the failure of his search for God.

What is particularly intriguing to me is that, having grown up with church, he lost his faith and was disturbed to lose it. More recently, he undertook to talk to many experts in the hope of discovering just where the gap was, exactly what it was he had lost, and found nobody very convincing. The general consensus, even among very intelligent believers, is that the belief has to come first, then the reasoning is built on top of that. Without belief, the reasoning doesn't hold up.

I agree with that. My own explorations have led me to similar conclusions.

Then, though, he delved into the recent writings of evangelical atheists - there has been quite a spate over the last couple of years - and found himself outraged on behalf of believers. Here I nearly cheered out loud, as I recognised the reaction precisely. One doesn't like to find oneself on the side of superstition against reason, but there is an arrogance and intellectual dishonesty about militant atheism that is worse.

I won't go into the detail. Anyone wanting to know can read the book "In God We Doubt" (good title), or even a review of it, which is often as good.

One further point is that the author is uneducated, and those reviewing the book often have the benefit of university behind them, and it strikes them how much of philosophical history is covered without any knowledge of the thinkers who have been over it before. Apparently, the conclusions are Kant's. They seem to think that only a non-formally educated person would have what it takes to retread such ground, that those who have been taught it would shy away. Here again I find a pang of recognition. I like to think about and study assorted matters which are quite deep, and regularly find people being quite dismissive about them because they covered the ground years ago while at university. I often wonder where the benefit lies if the only effect it had was to act as a cultural box ticked. It has occurred to me before that the ideal university education would be on an obscure and pointless subject, so that one gets the training in thought, the advantage of contact with intelligence, but doesn't have an interesting subject spoiled for life.

And having strayed a long way from my original subject, I'll stop there. I'll start on Miyazaki next if I continue digressing.

The Rules of Society

I don't want to stay a recluse all my life. Actually, I don't want to stay a recluse much longer, or even any longer.

But getting out and into interaction does prove slightly problematical. There are metaphorical billboards every other step that say "Stop! You don't know what you're doing!" OK, they come from within my head, but they remain quite real.

Social activities have rules that are very strong even though they're unacknowledged. Some social situations, especially, seem almost like dances, with step following step reliant on each party knowing what comes next. And I find myself totally untrained in the basics, let alone the niceties.

That's OK if it's just me. I don't mind admitting to being a bit weird due to my background, and I've found in many other kinds of scenarios that it is better to freely admit ignorance than to have people see you're trying to pretend. But I do feel sorry for the others involved sometimes, because it must be like trying to play a game in which one of the players has no clue, and that puts everybody else off. It makes for awkwardness, which is exactly what you don't want if you're trying to have an enjoyable time.

I am assured by various people, sometimes even those affected by my social ignorance, that everybody feels like this to some extent. I'm sure they do, just as I have lost count of the times I have been told by old people that they still often feel like children pretending to be adults. Surely, though, most people by my age have at least developed coping mechanisms, and have learned what to do in the majority of commonly encountered situations. I'm still encountering most of them for the first time. I wish there was a crash course in what people are expecting of me.

So far, my prime principles are openness and watchfulness. If I don't know what someone means, I ask. If I suspect something is expected, but I don't know what it is, I ask. If I don't know the answer to a query, I say so. But then, for all I know, this could become annoying as well. So I am careful to watch how people are reacting. It all sounds very considered, and it may be. Perhaps that isn't a good thing either.

People are kind, on the whole. And all I can hope is that before too long I will be natural enough that I can simply enjoy society without the strain of treating every encounter as a lesson too. One thing is for sure: if I stay home for fear of being different, I'll never get anywhere.