A lot of pubs in Britain outside of urban centers are in crisis. The Brits are staying home and going online. One solution might be the pub as local cooperative and multi-use venue.
In November 2012, the Golden Ball Cooperative Ltd took over the lease at The Golden Ball pub on the corner of Cromwell Road and Victor Street in Bishophill, York.
About 180 investors have raised more than £75,000 by investing £400 each in shares in return for a say in the pub’s running and an annual dividend of up to five per cent. ..... [Investors include] ex-pats living as far away as India, China, Peru and Norway who had decided to get involved. ..... The pub, which is Grade II listed, is regarded as having the most complete inter-war layout of any pub in York, having been remodelled in 1929 by John Smith’s and left virtually unchanged since then.
My former Christian History professor at Yale, The Rev. R. Guy Erwin (ELCA; photo at right), admits that the stunning news of the Pope's resignation makes this week for a church historian like himself "like the Super Bowl, the World Cup, and Wimbledon rolled into one! (But unfortunately, the best parts are not played in the open.)"
He provides some perspective on the resignation news:
The canon law says "renuntiatio" or to "give up" or "resign" in the one sentence that governs this possibility (Can. 332 sec. 2). It says he can do so, and resignation is valid if he does it freely and publicly, and--here's the old theological question--it doesn't have to be recognized by all to be valid. That is, even if some go on believing that he is still pope, in the canon law he is not.
Presumably, on the day the pope has indicated (28 February) the See of Peter becomes vacant just as if he had died, and the College of Cardinals take over their "sede vacante" role until a new Conclave is called and a new pope elected.
It seems crazy to me that the conclave might actually be meeting right up to Holy Week. But all the steps are determined by laws, and once the office is vacant, the church goes on autopilot.
But all the rest is terra incognita; there's never been an ex-pope in good standing with the church (the schismatic popes deposed were later declared antipopes).* He will have at least the status of a retired bishop. My guess is that he will want to be thought of as a "simple priest" and go into semi-monastic seclusion within the walls of the Vatican (ongoing legal immunity) and not be seen again in public until his funeral. Seems strange, perhaps, but what else could he do? There's no place in the basilica to seat an ex-pope when the new pope says Mass.
Though I am not a fan, I say this all with some sympathy for him--whatever is on his heart or conscience, he is in a very lonely place, and will have left a really mixed legacy made more complicated by this way of leaving it. And he is far too intelligent a man not to understand all that and be troubled by it. So if resigning is his "I can do no other," then it's for very weighty reasons.
*There is one correction I'd make: I said there had never been an ex-pope in good standing with the church. That's a bit of an exaggeration, but the only one who wasn't either a simonist or a schismatic, (Celestine V, who was, in fact, a saint) was imprisoned by...and possibly killed by his successor, who feared the ex-pope would be a magnet for rivals.
of St. Benedict...“contained a specific instruction that a certain number of hours in each day were to be devoted to labour in the scriptorium. The monks who were not yet competent to work
as scribes were to be instructed by the others.”
Notwithstanding the Church’s active participation, the production of knowledge
remained parochial. The copying of books
was also slow, tedious, and very time-consuming; it took years for a scribe to
complete “a particularly fine manuscript with colored initials and miniature
art work.” When Bishop Leofric took over
the Exeter Cathedral in 1050, he found only five books in its library. Despite immediately establishing a
scriptorium of skilled workers, his crew managed to produce only sixty-six books
in the twenty-two years before the
bishop’s death in 1072. Likewise, although the Library of Cambridge
University had a remarkable collection of 122 books in 1424, it “labored for a
half-century to increase the number to 330.”
To make the copying task even more difficult, the working conditions in monasteries
were “far-from-productive.” For
instance, “[t]he weather might be uncomfortable, the light poor..., and the
text difficult to read or tedious to contemplate.” In addition, monks had to “concentrate on
material they [might] not have been
interested in—or even understood,” and they often feared that they would make
an error or would not be able to complete a given work within the specified
time. Under these conditions, it is,
therefore, no surprise that monks sometimes jotted remarks about their
frustration and relief in the margins, or the colophons, of their
manuscripts. Examples of these remarks
included “Thin ink, bad vellum, difficult text,” “Thank God, it will soon be
dark,” and “Now I’ve written the whole thing: for Christ’s sake give me a
drink.” ..... Because the monks focused on the process, rather than the contents, it was not uncommon
to find them writing over materials on the same parchment or copying “useless
texts in illegible scripts.” After all,
the goal of such writing assignments was not to produce or preserve knowledge,
but rather to keep their hands and minds busy and away from sins or idle
thoughts. By the twelfth century, towns emerged, and communities grew in size and
wealth. As a result of the spread of
literacy, the demand for books increased dramatically, and a large number of new texts appeared. “[M]onastic libraries [soon] found it more and
more difficult to keep their collections up to date, and they began employing secular scribes and illuminators
to collaborate in book production.” Meanwhile, schools became independent from cathedrals, to which they
were originally attached, and guilds of
lecturers and students gathered to form universities. With the changing lifestyle and the emergence
of new educational institutions,
[i]t became more and more common for people to want to own books themselves, whether
students seeking textbooks or noble
women desiring to own beautifully illuminated Psalters. By 1200 there is quite good evidence of
secular workshops writing and decorating manuscripts for sale to the
laity. By 1250 there were certainly bookshops
in the big university and commercial towns, arranging the writing out of new
manuscripts and trading in second-hand copies. By 1300 it must have been exceptional for a monastery to make its own
manuscripts: usually, monks bought their books from shops like anyone else,
although this is not quite true of the Carthusians or of some religious
communities in the Netherlands.
As universities began to rely on scribes
to produce and reproduce texts, supervision by the university faculty became
necessary. Ordinances, therefore, were
developed “to regulate the work of the copyists, to lay down the minimum
requirements of formal presentation and substantial correctness, and to prescribe the selling price of duly certified copies.”....
“The English book trade...developed not around the universities, as on the Continent, but in London,
where the stationers formed a guild as early as 1403.” This guild was known famously as the
Stationers’ Company.... Despite the professional growth, medieval
scribes continued to be treated as mere laborers.... “The
average scribe in the later Middle Ages...had to work three
to seven days for the sum earned in one day by a common foot-soldier slogging
through Scotland in King Edward’s army.”
Nevertheless, the commercial book trade continued
to flourish in major European cities, and
the number of scribes and
illuminators increased substantially
as a result. “By the late thirteenth
century in Paris (a century later in England)...[t]he names
of scribes, illuminators, parchment-makers and binders...[can be found] in
tax records, though few names can be linked with surviving books.”
Image: The Monk Eadwine; c. 1150
Illumination on parchment, 457 x 330 mm; Trinity College, Cambridge.
The monk Eadwine, the prince of scribes (as the inscription calls him) is shown in this mid-twelfth-century portrait in a luxury glossed Psalter written at the cathedral priory of Christ Church, Canterbury. Eadwine is working with a pen and a knife together.
Retired U.S. Air Force Lt. Gen. James H. "Jimmy" Doolittle, center, clasps hands in a gesture of friendship with two former enemies, retired Japanese Rear Admirals Heijiro Abe, left, and Sadao Chigusa, at a luncheon held in Doolittle's honor at the American Club in Tokyo in March, 1974. Doolittle led the famous April 18, 1942 bombing raid on Tokyo that provided Americans with a much-needed morale boost after a string of early Japanese successes. Abe flew a fighter-bomber in the attacks on both Pearl Harbor and Midway Island, while Chigusa served as executive officer of a destroyer accompanying the Japanese carriers whose planes hit Pearl Harbor. HIDEYUKI MIHASHI/STARSAND STRIPES
In Canada, the Liberal Party elected its new leader on January 26, 2013, replacing Dalton McGuinty--who announced back in October that he would be resigning--with Kathleen Wynne, a Cabinet minister and member of the Legislative Assembly of Ontario, representing the riding of Don Valley West.
The Premier-designate of Ontario will be be appointed premier by Lieutenant Governor David Onley on February 11, 2013. She will be both the first woman to lead Ontario and the first openly gay provincial premier in Canada's history.
When Ms Wynne, a former federal cabinet minister, takes over in Ontario, she will head a minority government at a difficult time. She must grapple with a budget deficit forecast at C$11.9 billion ($11.9 billion) this year, while finding a way to satisfy teachers and civil servants angry at Mr McGuinty’s austerity measures. ..... Ms Wynne echoed other women premiers when she spoke of finding a new way to do politics, seeking common ground and free from “rancour and viciousness”. But sisterly spirit has not been much in evidence in the spat between Alberta and British Columbia over building the Northern Gateway oil pipeline; nor in the dispute between Ms Marois in Quebec and Kathy Dunderdale of Newfoundland & Labrador over a hydroelectric project on the Churchill River.
I'm sorry to hear of Ed Koch's passing. Ed helped bring the City back from the brink financially and was the first mayor to apply City funds toward housing--80,000 units of affordable housing.
I met Ed on several occasions and attended some of this birthday parties in recent years--first at Metropolitan Pavilion (I even designed the invite one year) and, by riding the coattails of my friend Jim Capalino, Commissioner of General Services in Ed's Administration, at Gracie Mansion during the Bloomberg years. Ed was always gracious and also humorous. Alas, the best stories he told aren't for publication on Isebrand.com.... Let's just say that Ed was an expert at the effective comedic use of flowery language!--a trait not uncommon among native New Yorkers.
I last saw him late one evening in Fairway about a year ago. I said hi, but I didn't want to hold him up; so I just told him it was good to see him up and about. A young couple were standing by, iPhone at the ready, eager to ask for a photo. Lots of shoppers said hi--everyone called him Mister Mayor or Your Honor.
I know his record as mayor is mixed. His handling of the emerging AIDS crisis at a time of severe shortages of hospital beds will be rightly criticized. It was a profound, tragic missed opportunity with horrible consequences. It might be noted that he also signed into law the City's first sexual-orientation non-discrimination statue, and before that, as Congressman he had introduced with Rep. Bella Abzug a bill to amend the 1964 Civil Rights Act, which would have prohibited discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation. And though elements of his Administration were tinged with racism, without Ed's endorsement and support, Democratic mayoral nominee David Dinkins, after unseating Ed as the Party's candidate following Ed's third term as Mayor, would have undoubtedly lost to his Republican opponent. I knew Ed only after he was mayor, and some of his political choices of the last decade infuriated me. Though, to be sure, if there was one thing Ed didn't mind, it was being infuriating.
Today, though, I'll remember Ed in his overcoat and flat cap, standing at the meat counter at Fairway, waiting for his turn, tall among the rest (Ed was a very tall guy), surrounded by a respectful, extremely subtle deference. It's a very New-York-moment image, and I think Ed would have liked it.