My Little Gnudren,
Old Gnu is continually being educated. In these days of political correctness, inclusivity, and “trending” and all other words and ideas that are “trending” at the moment, let us make sure that us old people do not become grumpy “old men” – oops! Sorry, … or grumpy “old women”. One of old Gnu’s favourite indulgent pastimes is to visit National Trust Cafes, and occasionally dropping in to the adjoining history-infested building which is meant to be the primary object of interest for visitors.
On a recent visit to Tyntesfield House he found this pile [in the picture above], and one behind the altar rail in the adjoining chapel, and also in the magnificent stairwell of the main house and elsewhere. Good job it was a chapel and not a mosque or it would have outraged the Muslim community. The Artist must be very wise.
When Old Gnu wrote to the National Trust to ask what this was, they replied as follows:
“The art installation is certainly bringing much discussion, and we appreciate it is not to everyone’s taste, however, we are an organisation who invites ‘everyone’ in to engage with culture, heritage and nature.”
Aha! Silly Old Gnu! It’s an “Art Installation”!! Old Gnu thought some rather over-fed cart-horses had been on the roof. Obviously, some folks had tasted this and didn’t like it. If I were them, I would stick to what’s in the cafe. But there was no warning.
And thanks to the very insightful Artist who created this, a discussion ensued in the cafe between folks who had just avoided treading in the stuff in the house. Some who had come to Tyntesfield for the first time wanted their money back. But then they learnt that the Gibbs Dynasty who owned the house had made their fortune out of imported dried bird poo. And what is more, while not connected with the slave trade, they had not checked all the news feeds on the internet or the media readily available on conditions in South America to fully appreciate the dreadful conditions in which this stuff was gathered. So, they were complicit with slavery or at least the inhuman conditions of production.
After much more edifying and enlightening conversation Old Gnu went home thinking of all the luxurious items that he has acquired for comfortable living and tried to trace their origin. He cannot be sure whether some components of objects are produced by the enslaved Uyghur people or other similar enslaved groups, or from those working in mines under horrendous conditions in central Africa. The process of purging must be put in hand! The microwave, toaster and even the Electric Kettle were suspect …and the fridge and freezer …and… Aha! Worse still, Old Gnu’s recently acquire practically new second-hand Ford Eco-Tortoise. He is determined to strip it of all the suspect parts of which he fears there are not a few. He hopes it will work afterwards because he is due in Edinburgh next weekend to attend a granddaughter’s concert. O dear! Nil desperandum! A coach perhaps? The same probabilities of suspect parts arise. Perhaps a plane or a train? O no! Even more possible suspect parts! Perhaps, he should set out walking. Helpful Mr Goggle tells us that it will only take 132 hours. That’s only 11 days if you walk 12 hours a day.
Please pray for Old Gnu. He is a sinner who is complicit in many crimes against humanity. Because he still insists on driving to Edinburgh. In future Old Gnu may stick to the National Trust Cafes because he is unable to cope with the simple, plain and clear truth communicated in National Trust sponsored Art Installations that he understands are beginning to appear elsewhere too.
But Old Gnu is minded to write to the Tate Gallery with the following suggestion. They should put up an Art Installation of Chains and the like at the main entrance. This will remind us that the slavery involved in the Sugar Trade produced the ill-gotten wealth that provided our National Gallery of Art. And perhaps Buckland Abbey, the home of Sir Francis Drake, should be decked in appropriate places with decapitated bodies and heads to make us engage with the piracy and murder he engaged in to bring wealth to the realms of Good Queen Bess. And then there’s… Oh dear! … Oh dear! I desperately need my tablets! …
Vetus Pater Gnu
Musicorum et Theologia
Turris LA
XVII Mensis Octobris MMXXIV