Y Safle

From time to time someone comes up with a survey that is so totally banal that it borders on the profound. Happiness surveys must surely be the archetype of such surveys. Purportedly they tell us what countries are the happiest in the world, and what ones are not.

One such survey was released by the University of Leicester recently. The happiest 10 countries are:

• Denmark
• Switzerland
• Austria
• Iceland
• The Bahamas
• Finland
• Sweden
• Bhutan (Bhutan?!)
• Brunei
• Canada

Now if there is anything in this list at all, it should be notable how many of these are nordic countries (Norway is in the top 20 too). And Canada is also unsurprising. I have to express quite some surprise at seeing Switzerland so high on the list. Perhaps the Swiss don’t care that they are all being rude to each other – or maybe the fact that they have the best democracy in the world is sufficuent compensation for the national character (or maybe I am just hopelessly stereotyping based on a very small and unrepresentative sample! Yes, that would be it!)

But I rather fear that what this survey actually does is select for something other than happiness (which is not really quantifiable anyway), and it selects in such a way as to rate nordic (or at least northerly) countries more highly.

I’m off for a few days, so I thought I would leave something reasonably light before I went. The article below is about a trip we took some of our Youth Group on a few years ago.

Friday was hot. Not just your average beginning of August warm, but hot sticky thunderstorm weather. Well it’s been like that all week of course. In fact it’s been like that all summer – but who’s complaining? Still, it’s just as well that we didn’t leave Aber until six in the evening. By the time I had collected Gareth, Huw, Amos, Gareth, Alun, Justin and Gareth and having waited for Gareth Williams to figure out the seatbelt mechanism and then having driven out to Cwmystwyth, the temperature had dropped to something near comfortable.

We stopped for our first food stop just outside the minibus doors (well its hard work climbing down that minibus step you know), and then our glorious Mountain Leader (Amos) disappeared to have a long chat with one of the locals, leaving us with no choice but to have our first drink stop too.

Eventually we left the minibus and set off up a large track which went up a large hill. A very large hill in fact. Some would say too large, so not surprisingly when we reached the top it was time for another food stop.

For the observant, we had already passed a hanging valley, a river, a marsh and some very interesting insectivoress plants.

We carried on then down into a river valley, crossed the river (a raging torrent is not how one would describe it). Amos and I were quite hoping someone would fall in at this point, just so we could explain why we insisted on a change of clothes! Unfortunately no one obliged. We then followed the river up to the mountain bothy.

Well that was when we found out we were not alone!!. No, someone else had also trecked all the way out here to Nant Rhys and was already installed in the bothy, with the stove lit and a kettle on. It took several minutes to explain to Huw that we really didn’t know who he was!!

The weather was so warm that we eventually decided to sleep outside, so we collected and cut firewood, set a small fire, cooked our evening meal, heard about the shepherd of Nant Rhys (and other ghost stories) and lay down among the swarms of gibbons* (!!!) with the vaguest intentions of going to sleep.

Well we didn’t go to sleep, but we saw plenty of shooting stars, as well as a few satellites, and just about every other star visible to the naked eye. Meanwhile we had more ghost stories, as well as discussions of a certain girl who works in the chip shop and other such weighty matters. Amos managed to fall asleep shortly after midnight, but it was gone two before everybody else shut up.

Everyone was awake again by six the following morning, which was far too early so we all went for a walk into the forestry looking for replacement firewood. Before we eventually set off home we had to fill in the Nant Rhys visitor’s book of course, and after Gareth Williams’ astute observation I decided it should be his job to take all the litter home with him! (Anyone wanting to know what this observation was will have to go to Nant Rhys and look at the visitors book themselves)!

There was some discussion of short cuts and eventually Alun decided that he would lead everyone across the “quick route” back – cross country across the peat lands. Amos and I had a bit of a break to give them a suitable head start and then walked around on the track. When we heard the shouts we knew they had found the boggy bits!

When everyone else managed to get back on the path, joining Amos and me, I’m sure they had gained a much greater appreciation for the benefits of a path – and a much lesser appreciation for Alun’s short cuts!!

Everyone agreed it had been excellent fun. We would all do it over again without hesitation!

*Gibbon – Either another name for Alun, or else Alun’s name for a ladybird.**

**Ladybird – A flesh eating carnivorous beetle which normally feeds on aphids, but in times of drought in Wales it swarms to the west coast and has been known to eat whole campers at night.

It seems that you can get any kind of emergency help these days, but this one – parked outside our office yesterday, was a new one on me. The caption reads “Grey Matters Ltd. 24 Hour Emergency Philosopher. Don’t even think about it, call us instead!”

And then underneath:

• Same day service within the M25
• All though considered – from inkling to eureka!
• 10% discount when you mention Tarski’s argument that the model-theoretic characterization of logical consequence is more basic than its characterization in terms of a deductive system

It is not clear who in our office had called out this service.

Back in 1998 I was involved with a Usenet dispute with a Biblical Creationist who called himself Gabriel. During our disputation a Welsh speaker posted something and I added a reply in Welsh. Gabriel objected to this, so I wrote:

Welsh is, of course, the tongue of angels that Paul mentions in 1 Corinthians 13. Indeed it was the original language spoken in the garden of Eden. Being the language of heaven you all will have to learn it one day.

Gabriel, who had a strong bent towards literalism of every kind, replied:

Could you perhaps back that up with some facts/evidence?

So I replied as follows:

But of course.
1 Corinthians 13:1 Paul wrote “If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels…” Now we see that angels clearly spoke in tongues that can be managed by the spiritual man (remember Paul has said “now concerning spirituals, I would not have you ignorant”. Paul never says he addresses spiritual gifts, he actually refers to the Corinthian spirituals – spiritual men).

Thus the language of angels is intelligible by humans, and can be mastered by those who are especially spiritual. We might surmise that those who are not spiritual cannot manage the language.

Welsh quite clearly fits in this respect. The language cannot be mastered without God’s help. The nation of Wales is clearly filled with spiritual men, as its history shows only too well, and many people have testified that they are brought closer to God by praying and praising in this tongue.

Some people claim to be especially gifted with this tongue, so that they are able to speak it, even from very early childhood. Many people have confessed that the language goes far beyond their human comprehension.

Also we see features of the Welsh language that point beyond any human design. What human would ever have thought of the concept of mutations in a language? What other human language conjugates its prepositions? Clearly the complexity of the language points to a designer, a creator, and beyond any human invention.

To consider the complexities of the language, consider the words man, ban and fan. Because of the system of mutations, each of these words, when following the definite article become “y fan” (i.e. they are all the same!) Surely the gift of interpretation is needed to understand such a language.

*

But we need not rest our case there, because we have noted this is the language of Eden. How do we know?

Genesis 6:4 says:

The Nephilim were on the earth in those days – and also afterward – when the sons of God went to the daughters of men and had children by them. They were the heroes of old, men of renown

Now who were these heroes of old? well we can point to the likes of King Arthur, Myrddin (Merlin), Taliesin and Gwydion among others. These were clearly some of the greatest heroes of old (for who has not heard of Arthur?) but even so, they were merely Welsh types of much older heroes. The Welsh are, of course, a Celtic nation (pronounced Keltic), they are the heroes of the ancient world. Europe’s first empire was built from this warrior people, and the heroes of old are remembered even today.

Who were the sons of God? well it is certainly a traditional understanding that these were angels.

And yes, of course Adam spoke the tongues of Angels, because how else would he understand the instructions of the angel over the gates of Eden to stay out? When God spoke with Adam this was no doubt the language he used.