How did they manage to produce so many wonderful buildings in the middle ages when the rest of the culture was so primitive?
Because they lacked DVD technology to record how wonderful the performing arts were? I think the problem here is an observation bias – the buildings have generally survived in much better shape than most other objects/culture from the period.
To take one example, the interior of most British churches is very drab compared to the interior of pre-Reformation churches, because the rich decorations of the time were destroyed as part of the Protestant reforming zeal of the time. So, apart from the structure of the building, much of the physical evidence for the culture that existed at the time was lost.
The second thing to point out is time. An awful lot of effort was put into large medieval buildings over long periods of time, so this enables something out of proportion to their other efforts to be achieved. For example, the newish Gherkin tower in London took less than three years to build, whereas the original Norman cathedral in Exeter took about 60 years to build.
Chaucer, Gower, Langland, Dante, Petrarch, Hildegard von Bingen, Guillaume de Machaut . . . and that's just a tiny roll-call of literature and music greats in western Europe. Not primitive, not "dark ages", just less accessible perhaps, thanks to the 600 or more years that separate us from them.
Catherine Bakhshi, Twickenham, Middx
The "wonderful buildings" of the middle ages were built by masons. Masons understood the wonder and mysteries of building and in the spiritual dimensions in the act of building. The masons of the middle ages were taught the skills of masonry but more, they were given the opportunity to understand the ancient mysteries that make good men better.
Thom Cross, Carluke, South Lanarks
Go to the British Museum's Treasures of Heaven exhibition for more medieval culture. They weren't as primitive as we think they were. Mind you, I'm glad I wasn't around then.
Does anybody else suffer from Empty Car Park Syndrome, whereby the time taken to park the car increases in relation to the number of spaces available?
This is a common affliction popularly known as "being spoilt for choice". Obviously the more spaces available, the more time you need to consider each one on its individual merits. Is it shaded? (No matter if it's the middle of January). Is it near the exit? (Those extra few yards will shorten the journey home.) Is the surface clear, smooth and even? (The price of tyres these days, inflated.) Are there puddles to step into? Are there cars either side that might threaten door-opening damage? Or is it too isolated and too far from the attendant's gaze? So many considerations and, unfortunately, choice is the mother of procrastinaton. Which incidentally is an anagram of "In car or P station".
Anthony Peacock, Liverpool
I have suffered from Empty Car Park Syndrome (ECPS) for most of my driving career. For sufferers like me the surfeit of choice simply makes it impossible to choose the first available space – there is always another (and another) that looks more alluring. The optimum car park occupancy rate is somewhere around 75-80%, which allows just enough choice in my experience.
I am also surprised at how difficult it is to park between the lines in an empty car park. I feel I need some parked cars to guide me into a space.
And do any fellow sufferers feel the urge to find a "through-er"? Two empty spaces in tandem, which allow you to drive through an empty space into the one behind, thus permitting an exit in forward gear.
Mark Williams, Skipton, North Yorks
My father was a severe sufferer, aggravated by Sociable Car Syndrome whereby, after the ritual "where should I go?" and cries from my mother and I, he would park beside the only other vehicle in the car park. At least, for me, the condition doesn't seem to be hereditary.
Graham Dodd, Cradley Heath, West Mids
Which are more sour, lemons or limes?
Neither. The tongue senses four main tastes in different areas – sweet at the tip, salt and sour at the sides and bitter at the back. Suck a lemon or lime and you'll find they are both bitter not sour.
Paul Byatt, Ellesmere, Shrops
dNeither, the answer is grapes.
Andy Cole, London E12
How did the strange expression "going commando" come to mean "not wearing underclothes"?
The Rev Richard Haggis, Oxford
How do rare birds always manage to land in the garden of someone with the experience and ability to recognise them?
Philip King, Oldham, Lancs
Ray Knight, Enfield, Middx