About Me

Here is a little tale about what I am about...
I am no longer sure how this came about, I was bored, and got on the net, found myself talking to Jews and Muslims, and not a few Christians of many colo(u)rs, about how various peoples had changed their scriptures, and somehow, the Diatessaron was mentioned, as the Gospel, (singular), referred to in the Koran. Then everything went a little blurred, and three years and more passed, and somehow, I, being totally unschooled in Latin, found myself translating the Latin text of the Codex Fuldensis Gospel into English.
My work on this text has convinced me that this is an original compilation, and not a Latin translation from a Semitic tongue.
Thus I am convinced, that though the Latin closely, indeed, for 85% of the text, for Matthew and John, word - for - word, if not letter - for - letter, matches the Clementine Vulgate text, yet this text, if Victor of Capua is to be believed, is from the hand of Tatian himself, so this text must date from AD 200, or thereabouts.
So this is the great mystery which I am now trying to solve.
I have the tiger by the tail, and I cannot release him!

Looking back, and oh, how clear hind-sight is, I see that I have been well blessed, though at the times of my blessings, they felt more like cursings.
I tried hard at junior school, but though I made the grade to high-school, I was entered into a lower stream, and was not set to read Latin, only French.
Throughout my schooling, I never achieved my potential, dyslexia was unheard of then: I could read and write, and my spelling and comprehension were adequate. However, my script would have shamed a spider with DTs, and when called upon to produce imaginative word, the spider became comatose.
So I finished high school with the very basics, of Maths, Physics, and Technical Drawing. French, like English, fell at the first fence.
So I started a mechanical apprenticeship, which likewise collapsed, and looking utter failure in the face, I joined the Air-Force.
Lord, it was rough. I would not do it again. But I had put my hand to this plough, and sworn an oath, and I had it to face.
I was an acceptable marksman with the Lee Enfield 303, but hopeless with the Bren. My drill and uniform passed, but only just.
Soon I was allocated a trade, and for the first time, I was treated as something other than a failure, and so I took to it as a duck to water.
My nine year's service was not easy, and I was never far from trouble. I was a confirmed rebel, but that was no bad thing, as I was always able to see improved ways of doing things, and got several awards for innovation.

After rejoining civil society, I drifted from job to job, starting as a mercenary engineer with the Saudi Arabian Airforce. They were good times, and I learned a smattering of Arabic, and struggled with Arabic script. I bought a copy of an English interpretation of the Koran, and discussed Islam with some of the Saudi Airmen I met. Then Beirut happenned, and as we had to transit Beirut to get to and from Saudi, I decided that it was no longer a safe situation.
So 'misfortune' brought me back to UK, I re-established a friendship with a girl I had been acquainted with years earlier, and soon we were married.
Margaret soon gave me a son and daughter, and though I was still drifting in jobs, there was real progress in my career, and a mechanic grew into an engineer.
I had always been fascinated by control systems and instrumentation, and my last work prior to unwelcome early retirement was in the field of digital signal processing.
So I was on the industrial scrap-heap at just 57. No-one wanted an electronic engineer at that age, they all wanted 'wet-behind-the-ears' university graduates. Yes, I had become an old 'stick-in-the-mud', and yes this was/is a time for new ideas.
Nevertheless, early retirement did bring a small pension, so I was not facing serious hardship, a few temporary jobs later, I took a temporary job as a Lab assistant at our local school. That lasted a couple of years in all, then Margaret's mother had a stroke. We could not face putting her in a home, so as neither of us were tied down, we both agreed that we would put our lives on hold, and care for her.

So it was, about four years ago, we moved from our home in Bristol to Yorkshire to look after Margaret's mother, Annie.
To my shame, I have a poor personal interface, and there had always been not the best of relations between Annie and me. I had taken her daughter away from her, and now, as her reasoning was becoming hazy, I was from time to time seen as an enemy. I was thus consigned to the shed, and called upon, only when needed.
So I had much spare time, and so, to ease the boredom, I was most evenings on-line.
My interest in the Middle East drew me into discussion forums where I met up with Muslims, Jews, and Christians of all colours. Before long, I found myself investigating the Diatessaron, as this seems to have been the single Gospel which the Koran mentions.
So I searched the net for this document, and found a very badly scanned and OCRed version on the net. I tried very hard to clean up the OCR errors, and after much effort, I was able to post my results, which though a vast improvement, were still far from satisfactory. This was my first foray into the Diatessaron:
The Diatessaron of Tatian.

I discussed the Diatessaron with not a few other interested parties, and being told that the text was accurate in terms of sequence, but inaccurate in terms of content of the sections, I foolishly thought to substitute, verse for verse, equivalent texts from the KJV Gospels. Though this looked better, I was forced to conclude that this was no more than familiarity with the KJV text making it seem more comfortable. In cold analysis, this was purely subjective. I tried the same procedure with the Douay-Rheims Gospels, and even with Murdock's translation of the Pesheeta Gospels. The Douay-Rheims was a very poor fit, but the Pesheeta translation was very natural. I felt quite pleased with the latter result, but again, in cold analysis, the text was not actually improved. All this work indeed was futile.
But what I had learned was that I could substitute Gospel verses, or fragments of for fragments of the Diatessaron. This was Fragment Substitution in action. Yes, it was English to English, but the procedure was well defined.
About this time, now about two years ago, I found an electronic version of Sievers' transcription of the Codex Sangallensis, witnessing the Codex Fuldensis. The text was Latin, and Old High German.
I remembered the Douay-Rheims Gospels, and how stilted the English was, and guessed that this was a very literal translation of Jerome's Latin, so I set out a two column set of the Gospels, carefully matching verse for verse, and correcting verse boundaries where needful, then using this as a key. I started translating by Fragment Substitution. I was amazed at how easy it was. Looking back, I can see how I have been led from stage to stage, learning skills, and facing tasks only when ready.
This has made me feel uncomfortable. I feel like one who has been led by the nose. My feeling is 'Why me? I am no linguist, certainly I am no Latinist! Why have I been given this task?'
What I do know is that no-one else wants to do it.
There exists to this date no other translation, save that which I have been guided to effect.
So this is my tale.
You can find my latest work at:
The Forgotten Gospel
I invite you to criticise it.

I have about 25 copies of the simplified text in hand finished hardback, which are then signed and serial numbered first editions. They represent the first impresshion, and the text has been slightly modified since then to embody corrections I have made to the master text. The latest modified text can be downloaded in PDF format from my website, but as yet, I have not printed any corrected hardcopies.

The links on this entry may be obsolete, and will be updated.