Ready money
I just had a phone call telling me I'd won the top prize in the 100 Club this month, which is £50. "Again?" I asked. This puzzled the treasurer, who couldn't remember my winning since I signed up, but that's because I dropped out once before when I was so embarrassed at winning two months running, which meant I was taking more money out of the club than I was putting in. He pointed out I didn't have to keep the money, but I decided I would, as I'd just had a larger bill than I was expecting from Woodalls, so had to fall back on the building society (I did have enough in my bank account, but it would have left me with about £36 for the next fifteen days, assuming The Hindu got round to drawing my subscription to Sportstar this month, which would be a record but you never know). I'll give the money back if I win again next month.
Meanwhile, the "quote Oscar Wilde" meme; I couldn't quite decide between a snatch of dialogue I find mysteriously hilarious:
Algernon: [Picking up empty plate in horror] Good heavens! Lane! Why are there no cucumber sandwiches? I ordered them specially.
Lane: [Gravely] There were no cucumbers in the market this morning, sir. I went down twice.
Algernon: No cucumbers!
Lane: No, sir. Not even for ready money.
...and Oscar's take on how Christ "regarded sin and suffering as being in themselves beautiful holy things and modes of perfection", from De Profundis.
"Of course the sinner must repent. But why? Simply because otherwise he would be unable to realise what he had done. The moment of repentance is the moment of initiation. More than that: it is the means by which one alters one's past. The Greeks thought that impossible. They often say in their Gnomic aphorisms, 'Even the Gods cannot alter the past.' Christ showed that the commonest sinner could do it, that it was the one thing he could do. Christ, had he been asked, would have said - I feel quite certain about it - that the moment the prodigal son fell on his knees and wept, he made his having wasted his substance with harlots, his swine-herding and hungering for the husks they ate, beautiful and holy moments in his life. It is difficult for most people to grasp the idea. I dare say one has to go to prison to understand it. If so, it may be worth while going to prison."
[No, I don't quite grasp it myself, but I can hear Oscar saying it very softly in my ear, and that's beautiful and holy too.]
Added later: Radio 3, tonight at 21.30 GMT: Sheenagh Pugh and Roz Kaveney discuss fanfic on The Verb. It should be possible to listen via the website. [After broadcast: The fanfic discussion is about 25 minutes into the programme, which should be available via the website for the next week. I thought it went quite well, and was a lot more to the point than the item on breakfast television earlier in the year.]
Even later: Ah, someone finally managed to let off some fireworks in my direct line of sight through the window. Well, direct line of sight once the noise prompted me to turn my head. I tend to experience the night as one of son rather than lumiere.
Meanwhile, the "quote Oscar Wilde" meme; I couldn't quite decide between a snatch of dialogue I find mysteriously hilarious:
Algernon: [Picking up empty plate in horror] Good heavens! Lane! Why are there no cucumber sandwiches? I ordered them specially.
Lane: [Gravely] There were no cucumbers in the market this morning, sir. I went down twice.
Algernon: No cucumbers!
Lane: No, sir. Not even for ready money.
...and Oscar's take on how Christ "regarded sin and suffering as being in themselves beautiful holy things and modes of perfection", from De Profundis.
"Of course the sinner must repent. But why? Simply because otherwise he would be unable to realise what he had done. The moment of repentance is the moment of initiation. More than that: it is the means by which one alters one's past. The Greeks thought that impossible. They often say in their Gnomic aphorisms, 'Even the Gods cannot alter the past.' Christ showed that the commonest sinner could do it, that it was the one thing he could do. Christ, had he been asked, would have said - I feel quite certain about it - that the moment the prodigal son fell on his knees and wept, he made his having wasted his substance with harlots, his swine-herding and hungering for the husks they ate, beautiful and holy moments in his life. It is difficult for most people to grasp the idea. I dare say one has to go to prison to understand it. If so, it may be worth while going to prison."
[No, I don't quite grasp it myself, but I can hear Oscar saying it very softly in my ear, and that's beautiful and holy too.]
Added later: Radio 3, tonight at 21.30 GMT: Sheenagh Pugh and Roz Kaveney discuss fanfic on The Verb. It should be possible to listen via the website. [After broadcast: The fanfic discussion is about 25 minutes into the programme, which should be available via the website for the next week. I thought it went quite well, and was a lot more to the point than the item on breakfast television earlier in the year.]
Even later: Ah, someone finally managed to let off some fireworks in my direct line of sight through the window. Well, direct line of sight once the noise prompted me to turn my head. I tend to experience the night as one of son rather than lumiere.