Wednesday, 21 February 2018

car and computer troubles around the feast of St. Oran. . . and Neil Gaiman's poem In Reilg Odhrain - about a different St. Oran.

At home car Renault something happened Sat morning, misfiring, very low on power. Brought to garage and was thinking it was a coil pack gone. But they said cylinders are randomly misfiring not just one so it's not a coil pack problem it's something else. . . To be continued . . .

in scouts: We went mountainbiking in Ballinastoe. Hired bikes from Janos was our instructor. Great fun. I went MTB in Ticknock later in the afternoon.

Earlier car news this year: In January after holidays battery was weak. We had to get help jump-starting a few times - at home (started with trickle charger), in Sandyford garage, in Kilternan Ski slope. Put in a new battery. Replaced front light bulbs as usual. Also trying to get air blower working again. Cleared out air intakes and found cabin air filter and took out. Got a wrong one delivered :-7. Fan in car - with broken cigarette plug connection now. Also wipers put back on properly after clearingout air intakes.

In work fun with jenkins, install/deploy jobs. A job to upgrade the running jenkins itself from jenkins.
Cleaning up a series of unwanted builds if a job goes crazy:
for i in $(seq 824 867); do curl -vv -u user:password -X POST http://jenkinsserver:port/job/jobname/$i/doDelete; done
And things like:

Feb 19th - fun in work a central DNS and other services server got into trouble, became unresponsive. All the usual IT people were away so we got to power-cycle. Toggle switch off at back powered it down but not up. Brief moment of worry before trying reset switch on front. Then later fun restarting services and re-mounting things that didn't start up properly @ boot time.

Feb 20th also there was a directory containing many many files it shoudln't. We thought a job/script rsync of copy had gone crazy. All the files removed from inside that directory. A few minutes later it was noticed all files were gone from homedirectory of server! :-o ssh keys, config files, .bashrc, .bash_profile, key exchanges, scripts/tools all had to be recovered and put back in place.

We checked star alignment, solar flare state and found it was apparently feast day of St. Odran. And there are a few different Odrans:

1. - drove chariot for St. Pat and killed by a spear intended for St. Pat. Circa 430 AD. Killed in revenge for the destruction of the pagan god Crom Cruach. Saint Odran's feast-day is 19 February.

2. -  520 AD church in Tipperary, 563 AD to Iona. Legend that he was buried alive under chapel on Iona. And some time later from the grave said: "There is no Hell as you suppose, nor Heaven that people talk about". Neil Gaiman re-tells the legend in the poem In Relig Odhrain:
    "Heaven is not waiting for the good and pure and gentle
      There's no punishment eternal, there's no Hell for the ungodly
      Nor is God as you imagine—". 

Reilig Odhráin is the cemetary around Odhran's Church on Iona. This St. Odhrán's feast day is on 27 October.

3. - Odhrain_Ua_hEolais - A scribe and scholar. Born into the Túath called Conmaicne Magh Réin. Died 994 AD. - a true story about murder and saints - read by Neil Gaiman

Neil Gaiman - In Relig Odhráin

When Saint Columba landed on the island of Iona
His friend Oran landed with him
Though some say Saint Oran waited
In the shadows of the island, waiting for the saint to land there.
I believe they came together, came from Ireland, where like brothers
Were the blond and brave Columba and the dark man they called Oran.

He was odhran, like the otter, was the other. There were others
And they landed on Iona and they said, We'll build a chapel.
It's what saints did when the landed. (Oran: priest of sun or fire
Or from Odhra, meaning dark haired.) But their chapel kept on crumbling.
And Columba took the answer from a dream or revelation,
That his building needed Oran, needed death in the foundations.

Others claim it was doctrinal, and Saints Oran and Columba
Were debating, as the Irish love debating, about Heaven,
Since the truth is long-forgotten we are left with just their actions
(By their actions shall ye know them): Saint Columba buried Oran
Still alive, with earth about him, buried deep, with earth upon him.

Three days later they returned there, stocky monks with spades and mattocks
And they dug down to Saint Oran, so Columba could embrace him
Touch his face and say his farewells. There days dead. They brushed the mud off
When Saint Oran's eyes blinked open. Oran grinned at Saint Columba,
He had died but now was risen, and he said the words the dead know,
In a voice like wind and water:

He said, Heaven is not waiting for the good and pure and gentle
There's no punishment eternal, there's no Hell for the ungodly
Nor is God as you imagine—
Saint Columba shouted "Quiet!"
And to save the monks from error shoveled mud onto Saint Oran.
So they buried him forever: And they called the place Saint Oran's.
In its churchyard Kings of Scotland, Kings of Norway, all were buried
On the island of Iona.

Some folk claim it was a druid priest of sunlight that was buried
In the earth of good Iona just to hold the church foundations,
But for me that's much too simple, and it libels Saint Columba
(who cried "Earth! Throw earth on Oran, stop his mouth with mud this moment,
Lest he bring us to perdition!") They imagine it a murder
As one saint entombed another underneath that holy chapel.

While Saint Oran's name continues,
Martyred heretic, his bones still hold the chapel stones together,
And we join them, Kings and princes, in his graveyard, in his chapel,
For it's Oran's name they carry. He's embraced in his damnation
By the simple words he uttered. There's no hell to spite the sinners
There's no Heaven for the blessed. God is not what you imagine.

And perhaps he kept on preaching, for he'd died and he had risen,
Until silenced, crushed or muffled by the soil of Iona.
Saint Columba, he was buried on the Island of Iona
Decades later. But they disinterred his body and they took it
To Downpatrick, where it's buried with Saint Patrick and Saint Brigid.
So the only saint is Oran on the island of Iona.

Don't go digging in that graveyard for the kings of old, the mighty,
Or Archbishops and their riches. They are guarded by Saint Oran
Who will rise up from the gravedirt like the darkness, like an otter.
For he sees the sun no longer. He will touch you,
He will taste you, he will leave his words inside you.
(God is not what you imagine. Nor is Hell and nor is Heaven.)

Then you'll leave him and his graveyard, and forget the shadow's terror.
As you rub your neck, remember only this: He died to save us.
And that Saint Columba killed him on the island of Iona.

A short stopmotion animated film of Neil Gaiman's poem 'In Relig Odhrain'.

In Reilig Oran - by Neil Gaiman

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