memoirs, art and fragments by Thomas Milner

Archive for April 17, 2012

Do you believe in Gravity


In considering American right-wing politics one enters Alice in Wonderland territory where that lovely word liberal has become a term of abuse and religion has become fatally intertwined with governance.

I recently watched a TV show about the Republican Race to be nominated to square up against Obama; (by the way for us in Europe it’s the greatest show in town and we follow it with horrible fascination – you will laugh, you will cry at the goofy adventures of the candidates on their zany road to the White House; you will be amused and bemused at their gaffes and solid ignorance of even their own history… in short its must-viewing for you all folks out there).

Anyway back to this show with clips of questions put to candidates for a beauty contest to find the new Miss (I can’t quite remember which State it was … let’s call it Arcadia) yeah, the new Miss Arcadia.

One of the questions put to these shapely air-heads was:

–          Do you think that Gravity should be taught in schools in this state?

Some of them answered that although they themselves had doubts about the existence of Gravity, all points of view should be taught …

Other hardliners claimed that as it wasn’t mentioned in the Bible better to play it safe and not talk about …

Only the last candidate, with cute little frown of concentration on her pretty face, thought she remembered studying it in a science lesson and yes she reckoned it did exist.

(What I was thinking at this point was anyone who doubts the existence of gravity should just jump out of the nearest window and find out)

But, seriously, what can they have thought it meant, I wonder.



Molyneux Bunny


About a couple of miles from my home-village of Thurlstone lies the hilly market-town of Penistone in the churchyard of which, propped up casually against  the dark stone wall of the old church is the mossy old 18th century head stone of a certain Molyneux Bunny who:

served with distinction in the wars

Of King William and Queen Anne,

And was a gentleman born.

I remember that from time I would leave the windy High Street and pop through the lych-gate into the old cemetery, hearing the rain begin to patter on the leaves of the sheltering sycamore-trees to examine it …

(Have you noticed, by the way, that these days not even nostalgia is what it used be).

%d bloggers like this: