this post equals unrelated

Well the country voted and the result was… “meh”. Personally I find the outcome no real surprise, seeing as all the options were cases of “which is the least rubbish”. There was no good party to go for. Sure the Lib Dems offered much, but we all now know what to expect of high promises, and the voting reflected that mindset.

Enough of the politics now. Sorry for the hiatus. Well, not sorry, but hope you enjoyed reading the last post over and over. Or maybe even, on a slight whim, you reread some of last years ‘gems’. Bully for you guys.

Right now, I’m sat in yet another busy Uni period, with essays and decisions to be made left, right and centre. I’m verging on a dissertation proposal that could see me spending my entire summer trying to find 12,000 words to say about translation, I’m researching for a 5,000 word garden path stroll on translation as mediation, I have mock exam results and real exams upcoming and I’m creating a jolly piece of technical writing as in, a list.

This post marks the start of all these. As my wife will testify, I tend to input more effort here when I should be doing everything other than doing stuff here. It’s one of my first ports of call when it comes to the p-word. It passes the initial courage building time to step up to the blank page plate and throw out some academic dirge. Which is good for you, Mr/Mrs number one and only one reader that has been returning to this page for weeks in the hope of something new as here sits some newness. So Charlie Brooker style, here’s the past in bull:

I’m Mormon-famous. After my experience with these polite chaps last year, I received a phone call a couple of weeks back. Apparently new Mormon missionaries in the area have heard “great things” about me and want to “hang out”. I’ll let you know if this development progresses as in press deals and book publishings (I’m hoping to be called a bigot and get my 10 pence WAIT no, my 8,000,000 pence worth from the Mail).

I received a modern gaming console for my birthday and have since been rather too well acquainted with it. As I mentioned in the other post, I’m shooting things. I’ve also noticed that people are beginning to brand me (probably due to the other half’s descriptions of what I do) as a gamer. I am a person that plays video games, but I feel that I lack some of the necessary items to be a “gamer”. Those being, that I am moderately fantastic at everything I play and that I have the money to spend on a game a week in never-ending search for “moar” trophies. Modest though that may sound, I’d say it speaks volumes of my character. As with the age old debate that I have with people about being “fluent” in two languages, I think probably (and as self-pretentious as this sounds, please let it go this once) that I am actually a gamer to the non-gaming world as the criteria they set compared to the criteria that the gaming world sets is much lower and therefore attainable. The problem is, the more you do something, the more you realise how little about that something you fully know and understand. Like in languages, where, to my family and non linguist friends, I am fluent in two languages. But to me, and my linguist chums, I am by no means fluent. Sure I can read, write and speak German as well as (on top of, not as good as) English, but I do not possess the quality of language of a native speaker. I never will, because I didn’t grow in this language, I missed the opportunities of childhood word association – where a single word takes you back to experiences and encounters (think “millennium”).

So with gaming, though I can modify my router settings and understand most basic PC and console language (homework: translate this into the queens, and receive 3 internets: “my l33t KDR pwns most noobs”), though I often do score relatively highly on the games that I play, there are always people playing better than me, that run their consoles and PCs with Linux and have modded something in their past. Their stage is the “gamer” stage and I have no desire to pursue this interest that far. I play games. That’s it.

Sorry my comeback is relatively low key and more monotone than ever. I have some texts lined up, but they are horrific rants that I wrote whilst on a train at half 5 one day and I feel slight embarrassment about both their content and my pretentious tone that presents it. I might probably will quote these in full and then follow them up with explanations, thus avoiding giving myself the appearance of an unhinged lunatic.

Cheers.

have you pondered the meaning of life?

Today, I was visited by some Mormons.

Well let’s cover the bases with the back story. Then we’ll deal with the visit.

Walking back from town on Thursday, I noticed two young guys who looked rather strange. They had the feel of a pair of school kids on work experience, but then, they looked just slightly too old to fit this picture. Wearing sensible shoes, black trousers, white shirts and ties with the tightened two-strap backpack seemingly quite full with something.  I left my gawking at that, crossed the road and carried on my wander. Then I notice further down the road that our routes, though slightly different, were mirroring. They were heading the same way, but ten metres or so ahead of me. They then stopped, talking to a gentlemen that was walking towards them. I then assume that they are after directions and go for the sly overtake, trying to avoid giving directional aid (especially for an area that I hardly know) I dipped my head and went for broke.

The pair by now had just finished with the other guy and had started walking again.

Then came the question, the question that threw me just enough to stutter and stop.

“Have you ever pondered the meaning of life?”

At this point experience was screaming at me. As my wife so aptly added later, if someone asks you said question, they are one of three possible people. 1) A crazy drunken homeless person after some change; 2) A psycho; 3) A religious missionary. All three are people that generally you try to avoid.

So, experience screaming, I stop, and start talking to them. Upon doing so I instantly realise I’m in trouble. There were name badges. Weirdly, I noticed that they shared the same first name. Then I realised I was being a douche, for the odds of anyone, let alone two people walking together, being called “Elder” are VERY low. A second take then confirmed the suspicions. They were missionaries. Mormon missionaries.

At this point I should have made my excuses and run to the hills. But I didn’t. Instead, I decided to hear what they had to say. Not in a “CONVERT ME NOW PEOPLE!” kind of way, but either a “can I listen and learn something?”, or “at least get a story out of it?” kind of way. So we agreed a time and bam, I had a date with some Mormons.

Religion is one of those things that sometimes surprises me. For instance, I find it really weird that religious groups have web presences. Not because I think they are archaic. Just, religion seems like something that wouldn’t need such a presence. Maybe part of me still believes that there’s no better way of self promotion than having on omnipotent higher power at the helm. Similarly, being contacted and exchanging mobile telephone numbers with a missionary provided me with a moment of surprise. I have no idea why I thought things might be different. Thinking about it now, I do have a strange reaction to the combination of technology and religion. Somehow, I always completely severed the two. Maybe part of me was expecting Elder to scratch our appointment onto a tablet. Who knows.

So they arrived, and we sat in my living room. We started with a prayer, provided by the quieter Elder of the two. This guy, well, this kid, seemed rather nervous (my wife informs me that this is because they travel in twos, where one is being trained by the other – this kid was fairly fresh in the face so I can believe that). He said his prayer with pure conviction. I can be moved by powerful speeches. Similarly, I can be shocked by emotional reactions during speech. This kid said his prayer with such care, he considered his words with such attention that impressed me. It took me by surprise too that it brought a tear to his eye. A tear. His eye. For a fairly routine set of prayer sentences, there was waterworks.

Next up we had the Q&A session. I asked, they answered, and provided Biblical references to support their points. I got a chance to learn a lot about the background and the devotion / commitment these two Elders had for their religion. I had researched the faith a little, so was able to ask them some questions that could have given them a sticky time. Or so I thought. I wasn’t aiming to disturb them, or insult them. I just wanted to find out their explanation for believing some aspects of their Mormon faith.

I asked three key (I thought killer) questions.

1. I asked about the rejection of non Mormon family members within marital ceremonies.
2. I asked why the Church (required/) asked for a regular financial contribution in order for members to be allowed within the Temple.
3. I asked them about the story of Joseph Smith, and his vision, discovery and reading of the Mormon scriptures.

All of these had answers which, in my mind are quite uncomfortable and controversial for a faith promoting Christian principles. For example, the rejection of family at a celebration of union is quite shocking. I was told that the civil service is open, but for the Temple aspect, where the couple have a ceremony uniting them beyond death, only sanctified Mormons may attend. So a secret service, which effectively excommunicates family members. Joyous.

The second is quite controversial too. I was told that it is not a requirement that people contribute to the Church. However, should a Mormon wish to attend Temple meetings, they must “donate” 10% of their wealth back to the Church. Much like the Islamic Zakat, except that I don’t think that a Muslim would ever be denied access to their Mosque. (Any info here would be most appreciated.)

Finally, Joseph Smith. Many faith leaders in 1820 said that God didn’t talk to people in a prophetic way anymore. Well, says Joseph, they do. upon kneeling at a tree, he was visited by two beings, who told him he would receive a revelation of the “true” religion in a year, and in the meantime, he was not to follow any others. A year passes, and as expected, Joseph locates some scriptures buried under the same tree. But wait. Joseph can’t read. He is illiterate. How will he read and promote the scriptures? The Mormons tell me it was through a divine miracle spirited within Smith and the Urim Thummim in his headpiece. I tell you it was through Joe reading the stones through the almighty power of a rock in his hat.

That is the killer for me personally. There is not ever a point where I am going to be able to believe Joseph Smith’s story. I can’t.

Each of these questions was given a prompt, Bible researched and belittling rebuttal. They informed me politely that though I may feel that my moral principles are satisfactory, actually I am nowhere near being superb because I NEED to study, learn and develop them with the assistance of the structured and undeniably ONLY true Christian Church. (Yes, they did tell me that ALL other Christians aren’t doing it right. Quite controversial.)

Repeat to fade.

The meeting finished with a prayer again, which somewhat ironically was combined with the loud beeping of a reversing lorry outside. The Elders left, after trying to arrange a follow up meeting. I declined.

The worst part of all this?

They never answered their own question. I was left to ponder on.

Beep, beep, beep, beep.