Essays in Idleness

I have much to do today, and cannot think of a topic I wish to take up, given the time available. Therefore I will present gentle reader with items I transcribe from random pages of my scratch pad. This will have the further advantage of relieving me from the need to reply to various emotive critics of my last two Idleposts, almost all of whom, I notice, are women. (Or deflect such praise as came, coincidentally, only from a few men.) Gentle reader, by now familiar with my style, may simply add water to any of the following, to fluff them out to the usual Idlepost dimensions.

*

If we must have a government, and I think we probably must, I want a Tory government, peopled by geriatrics of sufficient number that one may stand in for another when he is ill. The electorate (which should be reduced as much as possible) should be promised, in every party manifesto, a policy of “no excitement at all.” Perhaps, as a compromise, to alleviate populist pressures, pretty much everyone could be allowed to vote; but then, most of the ballots would be quietly discarded.

*

“What is the first business of philosophy? To part with self-conceit. … It is impossible for anyone to begin to learn what he thinks he already knows.” (Epictetus, Book II of the Discourses, chapter 17.)

*

Thomas Aquinas opposes the cardinal virtue of Prudence, to its counterfeit, “craftiness.” (Summa II-II, q. 53, a. 1 & q. 55, a. 3.) … Cites adultery as one of those acts deformed, incompatible with the life of sanctifying grace, and always wrong. (Quaestiones Quodlibetales IX, q. 7, a. 2; Summa II-II, q. 154, a. 8.) … Mentions that the guilt of mortal sin is aggravated if the unrepentant sinner receives the Eucharist. (Summa III, q. 80, a. 4.) … Notes from scripture, that in this case the Eucharist becomes not a spiritual medicine, but a poison. (In I Cor. c. 11, lect. 7.) … Adds, that the Sacraments do not work “like magic,” for even Confession fails if the penitent intends to sin again. (Summa III, q. 86, a. 2.)

*

“Sacrilege is a grave sin, especially when committed against the Eucharist.” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, paragraph 2120.)

*

Like most retired bomber pilots, of Thomist and Aristotelian views, he is of a phlegmatic disposition.

*

I, my father, my grandfather, and my great-grandfather, all collected stamps; my boys, I am sorry to say, not so much, from being born into email. For most, stamps provided lessons in geography. But for each of us elders — weird artists in one kind or another — they provided lessons in aesthetics and craft. I see that my files contain notes on fifty-two postage stamp engravers, from the Madagascar Frenchman, Pierre Albuisson, master alike of copper and steel engraving, to the late Viennese, Rudolf Zenziger, whose rather hasty work for Nazi postal authorities was redeemed by the beautiful etched bookplates and portrait engravings he contributed to the post-War Austrian reconstruction.

*

With its freedom from moral, intellectual, or spiritual content, the newborn baby has a truly open mind.

*

A last passing word in defence of René Descartes, whom I’ve been known to troll. His “mind and body” distinction is not nearly so glib as his naturalist descendants imagine. The man who may well have converted Queen Christina of Sweden to Roman Catholicism (he was the only Catholic she had ever had serious conversations with), so that she abdicated her Protestant throne, took a view of “mind and body” that was necessarily interactive. Pascal’s depreciation of Descartes is not fair: he was not trying to dispense with “God” nor “soul” nor “spirit,” but to understand them in terms that could escape late, decadent, scholastic befuddlement. He may have been profoundly in error, but he was also brilliantly and sincerely in error. Let us not blame him for progeny who had and have nothing of his passion for Truth, and sire notions upon him that would only have aroused his contempt.

*

Our gross, gross domestic product.

*

“Price, quality, speed: pick any two.” (Old saying in the printing trade.)

*

From the gallery of my favoured politicians, Arthur Balfour (1848–1930), who served as prime minister of the UK from 1902, to 1905, when he had to be removed. Got the job in the first place because Lord Salisbury was his uncle. If we omit the unfortunate “Balfour Declaration,” he seems to have been perfectly effete. Trained in philosophy, his wonderful intellect was able to discover an argument to prove that human reason is of no use to anyone. (See his Defence of Philosophical Doubt, 1879.) He then applied this to politics by the formula, “Nothing matters very much, and few things matter at all.” Sexless, by all contemporary accounts (lascivious lords were at the time a problem), except Beaverbrook thought he might be an hermaphrodite. As leader of a quickly shrinking Conservative Party, he could put the House to sleep with long, abstract, rambling disquisitions, on topics of no pressing interest. These would end, abruptly, when his opponents shouted, “Enough of this nonsense!”

*

My favourite Canadian politician was of course John Abbott (1821–93), an Anglican cleric’s son from rural Quebec, who accidentally became a successful Montreal corporate lawyer. The man was repeatedly elected to public office against his will, and often active resistance; to ever higher positions, until finally he was made our first native-born prime minister. This because the only alternative was a Catholic (whom Abbott himself was trying to support). Tried repeatedly to resign, but it took months before anyone would accept it. His most memorable quote was first heard from within a vexed caucus meeting, over which he was presiding, having been compelled to attend. … “I hate politics!” he bellowed.

*

Fact: Alexander Graham Bell refused to have a telephone in his study.

*

Parishes within the imaginary township of Esquesan: … Glenwil, Norval, Stelwar, Lime, Teracot, Balinafal, Domiris, Horn, Ashgal, Rockwil, Craik, Snel.

*

People who live alone are a danger to society, and to themselves.