January Rant

Been a while since I’ve posted; busy, moving, tired and sick. Or perhaps it’s just too much reading and chocolate. Anyway, nice to be back.

It’s been said that an infinite number of monkeys typing for an infinite number of years would eventually produce all the works of William Shakespeare. For all I know this may be true, but consider some of the practical problems. For example, how would you keep so many monkeys on task? Whipping’s inhumane, of course, not to mention distracting, so you’d have to use bribes. Can you imagine how many tropical republics would have to be continually harassed and destabilized to ensure a constant and infinite supply of bananas. And consider all the things that would be produced before they got around to Shakespeare. They’d be spitting out Russian place names and surnames in a few days, of course, then barbecue assembly instructions, political speeches and airport security regulations. Hmmm, kinda makes you wonder what the CIA has really been up to in Latin America for the past whoknowshowlong. (Oops, paqshs me a nither banakna.)

And, while we’re on the subject of monkeys at keyboards, who the heck has been rewriting the words to the old hymns? I don’t mind finding a “she” for a “he” once in a while, and I’m willing to admit it would be nice to have a gender neutral pronoun for God. A “you” for a “thou” or a “thee” and dropping the “st” on the end of “couldst” and “wouldst” are also more than defensible. But Amazing Grace doesn’t need amending.

The other day I heard about a version of that old hymn in which the opening line “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me!” had been “fixed”, by substituting the word “child” for “wretch”. I’ve also seen “someone“ and “soul” used to defang and declaw this confessional image. This hymn is autobiographical, written by John Newton who had been a slaver and who, by his own reckoning, had destroyed the lives of 20,000 African men, women and children. He knew very well why we need grace, and why we need saving; not because we’re souls or someones, and certainly not because we’re children, but because we are wretches. If people don’t know they are wretches perhaps they should just sing a different hymn. Might I recommend “I’m a Little Sunbeam”. It’s very nice and inoffensive, and I think there might even be actions. But whatever they do I hope they won’t stop typing. We could use another Shakespeare play.

Sounding grouchy? Well, it’s January, and -34°. I’ll be better by the next time I post.