Banknotes

Apparently the Bank of England is inviting us to nominate our suggestions for who should appear on the face of the new £5, £10, £20 and £50 banknotes. Despite the fact that no-one carries actual paper money any more. I know, they're made of plastic now, not paper.

For reference the current notes show:

£5 – Winston Churchill

£10 – Jane Austen

£20 – J.M.W. Turner

£50 – Alan Turing

Not sure there is some kind of value assertion here, perhaps that Turing (a genius) has been 5 times more consequential than Jane Austen (anyone could have written her stuff, even an infinite number of monkeys). I feel there should be, so my contributions are value-added:

£5 - Andre Arshavin scoring 4 goals for Arsenal in one match against Liverpool. Of course he's Russian so that might be controversial. Especially with Liverpool fans

£10 - Maradona scoring a beautiful winner for Argentina against England in the World Cup quarter final in Mexico in 1986. Of course it should actually have been just an equaliser because his first goal was scored with his hand. For me Maradona was the GOAT but the Hand of God might not appeal to the Bank of England.

£20 - Geoff Hurst scoring a hat-trick to win the World Cup for England in 1966. No brainer.

£50 - Ray Kennedy scoring the winner at Tottenham's White Hart Lane ground in 1971, winning the League title for Arsenal in so doing. I was there. We went on to win the League/FA Cup double.

I've just checked out the eligibility rules (probably should have done that first):

1. They must be dead so no Arshavin or Hurst
2. Don't have to be British or even born in Britain all the above OK
3. Must have made a lasting, positive impact on British society in some way sorry Diego
4. Real person not fictional
5. Not divisive, politically explosive or otherwise controversial Diego strike #2

So some revision is required. The Banknote Character Advisory Committee has recently decided on six themes: notable historical figures, nature, architecture and landmarks, arts/culture/sport, noteworthy milestones, and innovation. I think this means our selections must be themed within one of these. Seems I've gone for either arts/culture/sport or noteworthy milestones, so I have to choose which and then revise within that. Here I go:

£5 - Arnold Schoenberg’s first twelve-tone composition: “Suite for Piano, Op. 25”, written between 1921 and 1923.

£10 - Elvis Presley, first worldwide famous rock n roll star, hugely influencing the development of 20th century popular music

£20 - Pablo Picasso and Georges Braque, founders of cubism am I allowed two faces?

£50 I was going to stick with Ray Kennedy but that would probably be seen as divisive by my Tottenham readers (and the Committee) so I've gone for Emma Lazarus: “Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free...” [The New Colossus] on the Statue of Liberty.

None of these are British but I've followed the rules. It's pretty disappointing (although obviously not for him) that Geoff Hurst is still alive. His time will surely come, I don't doubt. I probably should check to see if any of these have previously been used but I'll leave that to the Committee.

I very much look forward to readers' suggestions. No Boaty McBoatface please.

The Colossus of Rhodes

One of the seven wonders of the ancient world, the Colossus of Rhodes is a statue of the Greek sun-god Helios. This is he.

Rhodes is an island in the Dodecanese group of Greece. The medieval city is a World Heritage Site. It's a beautiful island. I've been there but I didn't see the Colossus. Maybe I'm not ancient enough (although getting there). Mr Wiki tells us that "Rhodes' nickname is The Island of the Knights, named after the Knights of Saint John of Jerusalem, who ruled the island from 1310 to 1522." I didn't see any knights either.

The Colossus is referenced in Emma Lazarus' poem The New Colossus:

The ancient Colossus and the new Colossus are both about 33 metres high. One built to celebrate success in a year-long defensive war, the other defying oppressors and encompassing all humankind (the seven stars on her crown may represent the seven continents; although the above drawing shows Helios with a seven star crown, no-one knows what the statue actually looked like). So freedom in both cases.

Of the seven ancient wonders of the world, I think the one I'd most like to have seen is the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. Although it's not certain they ever existed, as no archaeological evidence has ever been found. They seem so pretty and Babylon sounds a nice place to live. Maybe not so much recently though.

Why seven wonders? The number seven was chosen because the Greeks believed it represented perfection and plenty. Worked for them.

Am I cultured? Ask Mr Plato

If the meaning of cultured, as applied to people is: polite, well-spoken, generally civilised in discourse, then I wouldn't consider myself cultured (none of the above). But I definitely am a lover of culture - music, theatre, visual arts, written prose, dance. Anything from ancient times to the present day. The only thing missing for me is poetry. I've never been into it and I find it difficult, even daunting. And is poetry supposed to be read or spoken? This is Billy Collins, US Poet Laureate from 2001 to 2003:

And this is the now well-known poetry performance by Amanda Gorman at Joe Biden's inauguration:

I'm also interested in the notion of the culture of a nation or a civilisation. What are those things which make up that culture? The arts obviously but much more - norms, behaviours, beliefs, customs, and values shared by the population perhaps.

Sean Bean says in Civilization VI: "The worth of a culture is not measured by its accomplishments but in how those accomplishments last and how they are remembered."

One of the problems with this is that measuring culture by longevity may devalue what that culture morphs into. The 2,000 year long ancient Greek culture was an icon of cultural greatness and you could argue that it survives to this day in our modern democracies but how fragile are those now? The Persians were the most powerful nation in the world for 200 years; a kingdom unified by Cyrus the Great and defined by leadership which respected the customs, beliefs and rights of conquered peoples. Are those 200 years less valuable than the 2,000 years of the Greeks?

If we look at our modern Western culture, how will our norms, behaviours, beliefs, values and customs stand up to the test of time? Even more importantly, to what extent are those shared by our increasingly fractured populations? I'm not sure how to describe our English culture, our British culture, our European culture or even if any of these actually exist.

We live in a time when every cultural norm is questioned, to an extent which hasn't been prevalent in any previous cultures. I suppose this in itself is an inevitable result of democracy, one which perhaps the Greeks (except for Plato - read on) didn't anticipate. Could it be that democracy is inherently unstable and cannot survive? Plato, in his Republic, postulates that democracy degenerates into tyranny where no one has discipline and society exists in chaos. Democracy is taken over by the longing for freedom. Power must be seized to maintain order. A champion will come along and experience power, which will cause him to become a tyrant.

Sound familiar? Plato clearly didn't have much time for the idea of democracy and his preference was for aristocracy, grounded in wisdom and reason and ruled by a philosopher king. I think our future Charles III might be attracted to that.

So cultures don't last but Sean Bean could be right to suggest that the longer a culture does last the more worthy it is. Except that, as in technological advance, there maybe an exponential decline in the amount of time required for change so maybe Persia's 200 years were equivalent to Greece's 2,000 years - and that means about 20 years today.

Our modern democracy probably only started in the early years of the 20th century with universal suffrage and so is a pretty recent phenomenon. It may be starting to decay but we can nevertheless see and value our cultural norms even though they may be transient.

Our (English/British/European/Western) culture is different today from what it was 20 years ago - in essence as well as in the engagement of the population - and it could be argued that the 20 year old culture didn't last and therefore wasn't worthy. But if you do argue that, you are effectively saying that there is no such thing as culture.

I believe my parents' post-war culture was defined by a respect for (maybe even deference towards) institutions - the monarchy, politicians, teachers, GPs who came to visit when you were sick - that doesn't exist today. Although those are not my cultural norms I still respect them for the time and context in which they existed. My parent's culture was as valid as mine is.

Indeed, I'm not sure that I personally have a culture.

So maybe the answer to the title question is still: No.

Dudes

Do you call anyone "dude"? Me neither. Of course not. I certainly don't think of my readers as dudes.

I thought it was a modern, American word, used by internet streamers and teenage drug dealers. However, Mr Wiki Pedia tells me it was a common nineteenth century word meaning a dandy or city slicker. Maybe derived from the musical Yankee Doodle Dandy, spelt by less educated Americans as Hinky Dude Led Andy to sing and dance. Maybe.

Much more recently, dude is commonly used by amongst the young, hip crowd. Whoever they are. Generation something or other. Originally referring uniquely to males it is now used for males and females. And others. I haven't heard dudette used in a while, probably because that's not the crowd I mix in. Obviously.

In Australia, the equivalent word is mate. It's ubiquitous. I've even heard married couples addressing each other as mate. No names, no pack-drill. I have no idea what a pack drill is - or indeed whether it should be hyphenated - but my military adviser Tony (RN retired) will surely know.

What do we Brits use? Mate, buddy, pal. For a certain class of Brit perhaps fellow, as in "hail fellow well met". Sounds Shakespearean but I couldn't find any instance of the use of it in the bard's output. Used in Jonathan Swift's poem My Lady's Lamentation:

Hail, fellow, well met,
All dirty and wet:
Find out, if you can,
Who's master, who's man;
Who makes the best figure,
The dean or the digger;
And which is the best
At cracking a jest.

The rhythm and cadence of this reminds me of the Interrupters' song Take Back The Power which I referred to in an earlier post:

What's your plan for tomorrow
Are you a leader or will you follow
Are you a fighter or will you cower
It's our time take back the power

Eighteenth century satirist meets twenty first century ska punk. Who knew?

Movie buffs amongst you will know the Coen Brothers film The Big Lebowski, starring Jeff Bridges as "The Dude". I was going to include an image from it but I couldn't find anything copyright-free, so you'll either have to take my word for it, or check it out. It's a movie I haven't seen; perhaps I should. On the list.

OK my dudes, a coda:

On 23 July 2019 Boris Johnson popularized [among the chattering political classes] the word "dude" as an acronym for his Conservative Party leadership campaign. In his leadership speech he explained it as referring to Deliver Brexit – Unite the country – Defeat Jeremy Corbyn – Energize the country. Scorecard: 2/4.

Raining cats and dogs

I wish I could say that this 1820 painting by George Cruikshank is the origin of the "raining cats and dogs" phrase. Actually I could say that; but it wouldn't be true.

Wikipedia describes Cruikshank as a "caricaturist and book illustrator". Not an artist? That's a bit rude. Poor George. In his time he collaborated with Charles Dickens, illustrating Oliver Twist. Whatever, it's a fun painting, one of which I would be happy to have a print on my wall.

In1651 the English poet Henry Vaughan referred to a roof that was secure against “dogs and cats rained in shower.” I couldn't find any earlier reference than that but there are many speculative notions about its origins in Norse mythology, classical Greek words, Old English words and much more. It's the kind of thing that classical scholars love to discuss over a pint of ale. Not after 10pm though.

It's possible I suppose that prehistoric cats and dogs had hind legs with large, stretchy tendons and a counterbalancing tail, enabling them to bounce around over the top of cavemen.

Like kangaroos.

Or that cats and dogs on Mars, due to the low gravity, bounce about in a similar way, and native Martians, well known for having poor eyesight, introduced the phrase to visiting earthlings.

I'm going with that.

Clearly Cruikshank got the idea from somewhere so maybe it was a popular phrase in Victorian Britain. Nowadays he'd have been excoriated by the animal rights movement, with claims that his painting would encourage people to go up in planes and drop animals onto the heads of the unbelieving public. Spoilsports.

T S Eliot wrote 15 cat poems in Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats but none about them in the rain. And none about dogs. This seems a bit remiss really, Tom. [That's Tom Eliot not tomcat]

It's just a game

 No it's not. My favourite computer game Civilization VI is far far more than that. It is an archive of historical accuracy and detail. History, ancient and modern, that I learn from almost every day. Great people, great works of engineering, science, commerce, literature, music, the visual arts and yes, warfare. Sun Tzu alongside Isaac Newton alongside Gustav Klimt.

The developers of the game pride themselves on historical accuracy and relevance, with great respect for all cultures and values. 19th century Japanese artist Katsushika Hokusai, Genghis Khan, Machiavelli and Zoroaster are all around, as great people who have made their contributions to the development of the world's civilisations, without value judgements on their effects. There is no Adolf Hitler, though, and no Pol Pot, although genocide is "represented" by Genghis and Ethiopia's Menilek II. But Menilek is there alongside Simon Bolivar, Gandhi and Montezuma as protectors of their countries/regions against the ravages of colonialism.

You don't learn this in school history.

It's a cornucopia of cultural bountifulness, a profusion of world knowledge, a schooling in history from ancient Mesopotamia to Second World War Australia, with their respective leaders Gilgamesh and John Curtin.

Consider what I learned yesterday; two [excerpts from] poems by Emily Dickinson:

Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne'er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.

A Bird, came down the Walk - 
He did not know I saw -
He bit an Angle Worm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw, 

I love them.

And by the 8th century Chinese poet Li Bai:

Among the blossoms waits a jug of wine.
I pour myself a drink, no loved one near.
Raising my cup, I invite the bright moon
and turn to my shadow. We are now three.
But the moon doesn’t understand drinking,
and my shadow follows my body like a slave.
For a time moon and shadow will be my companions,
a passing joy that should last through the spring.
I sing and the moon just wavers in the sky;
I dance and my shadow whips around like mad.
But stumbling drunk, each staggers off alone.
Bound forever, relentless we roam:
reunited at last on the distant river of stars.

So, when I am playing the game as Simon Bolivar's Gran Colombia against Spain's Philip II and and I meet the roaming Kupe of the Maori and Poundmaker of the Cree, we are at one and I am re-living the history of the world. My world.

Kids, get playing and learning!