Today is my own Trinity Sunday...such two words have been stuck in my head ever since i heard a a war time recording of Winston Churchill..i cannot recall any of the speech bar those two words he opened with...." Today is Trinity Sunday "...i think instant visions of Sundays when i was a small boy clouded out his speech..When the TV was not the powerhouse of the world, when instant news and the saturation of every second, by every authority known to gobbling Elephants filled every dot on the screen..the TV in those days in the houses i grew up in was somewhere where a vase of flowers was put to make the small squat screen look at least friendly.
Sundays moved at such a snails pace even they fell asleep.....every second moved into the stratosphere and back again in slow motion you could reach out touch time, bring it in on your palm kiss it, and blow it out as if every tinniness had been used up in one sun drenched orgasm....the only fraught time was the family Sunday Dinner...i am was is an only child sat between two adults whom should not have been together the feelings in ones mind back then, you stuffed into your pockets..children at that time were still seen and not heard surviving the evening meal was at times a feat impossible without breaking every second into brittle stuttered anguish.English cooking during that period was boil it to death so that every vegetable came out screaming..for fucks sake i surrender...roast beef looked like Elephant dung and probably tasted such...
There were thankful things...faith was never mentioned..not a Bible came anywhere near the front door....i had a rich imagination whom was and perhaps still is my best friend..this imagination has carried me through much elephant dung, heaped far higher than the empire states building...carved out in steps i could walk to the moon and back...my imagination is my Agincourt cloth my two fingers to the world,perhaps some people call it vanity, perhaps being selfish..but there again perhaps it is simply Trinity Sunday today.