Bye bye everybody. Bye bye....
I shall be on holiday from (terribly early on) saturday morning. Like Arnie, I'll be back.
So I may post something tomorrow night, but that will be it for a week.
Aur revoir, mes braves.
Witty and pertinent observations on matters of great significance OR Incoherent jottings on total irrelevancies OR Something else altogether OR All of the above
I shall be on holiday from (terribly early on) saturday morning. Like Arnie, I'll be back.
Defective Yeti is taking a holiday, and coincidentally this is currently on the "Favourite Posts" page which is up there holding the fort.
Let's leave aside the fact that I find it incomprehensible that anyone who claims to be a leftist of any kind would support the Iraq invasion.
"Teenagers are all clumsy, unidentifiable smudges on the page. Which annoys their parents no end, if that happened to be the page they were saving to read later."
I couldn't resist a blog whose title is a Bonzo Dog Band number. Especially when most of the posts are similarly titled. And it's a newcomer.
I was gojng to blogroll Misty anyway. But this post (and, obviously, its comment stream) is just awesome. And not just because I recently added to it. Stick in your ten cents' worth: on discovering that both "Wombat Out Of Hell" and "Remember You're a Wombat" had gone already I thought I'd nothing to add, but actually it was easy to come up with new ideas.
I'm conscious of the fact that when I did Clare's Book Title Meme last week the book I plugged was by a dead author. OK, a dead Scottish author, but still dead and thus less in need of the plug.
I am very pleased indeed to see one of my favourite blogrolled sites being honoured with a nomination, not for a blog award but for a general non-fction writing award. How cool is that?
OK, so I should have posted this on Sunday, but it got delayed and then last night Blogger collapsed so I couldn't post anything.....
Thanks to Dan for this awesome joke.
On the one hand we have the Dean of Southwark, fulminating against the prospect of a lapdancing club in his neighbourhood. "We have a hospital nearby with many Muslim patients who will be offended". Pardon? I don't think the dancers from Rembrandt's were proposing to strut their stuff on Ward 6, so how can it possibly disturb patients in the hospital? Is he going to close down all the off-licenses in the area for the same reason? "We were not allowed to object on moral grounds yet thousands of children pass down the street every day." As the club will only be able to stage nude dancing after 9 pm (through until 3 am) it seems unlikely that too many children will be passing by. If they are then he has more to worry about than a lapdancing club. I have no view on whether the club should be granted a licence or not; that's for the residents and the local council, who mostly seem not to have a problem with it.
It's hard to imagine anything good coming out of the Madrid train bombings. However, wiser heads than mine consider that they caused a huge reduction in support for ETA's domestic bombing campaign. And that would seem to have led to this.
Clare's meme has kind of taken over here. Normal blogging will be resumed tomorrow.
Tagged by Clare with this meme.
(and while I feel his heart is generally in the right place, he does talk the most egregious bollocks quite a lot of the time)....
....imagine if all the Israelis were to vote for this party.
Went to see The Grand Duke last night (Hilary was playing in the pit so we all went along). The Edinburgh G & S Society are a more than usually competent bunch (their recording iof Ivanhoe a few years back tied with Jessye Norman's Carmen as the Music Retailers' Association' Opera Recording Of The Year!) and TGD is a bit of a rarity. Not perhaps premier league G & S but still good music and very amusing, especially when well done as here. The story is as silly as G&S usually is, but still funny. (How can you resist an operatta which uses sausage rolls as a plot device?) Terrific work from Scott Thomson, Neil French, Fiona Main and Ian Lawson (go see the website), any of whom could, I suspect, go head-to-head with the professionals in this repertoire.
This post from Random Burblings Alan is marvellous for its depiction of crazily-litigious Yanks.
When I read this my first thought was: when did the Hell's Angels become a corporation?
My daughter's response was that it happens to swimmers all the time: you beat the old world record but don't even get a medal because three people beat it even more than you did.
There isn't much I can add to this except my wholehearted agreement.
How nice to be able to report some good news from Israel for once.
I should have expected it, I suppose. I was lurking over at Harry's Place, a blog I normally don't have much time for (though it springs the odd pleasant surprise such as this). Funnily enough I'd got there by following a trail from an apology by David Aaronovitch (again, I don't have frequent flyer miles at his blog either) for inadvertently accusing the wrong Nick Berry of racism; a mistake which apparently occurred because he had taken a post at Harry's Place to be fact-based instead of bollocks. Still, water under the bridge and all that, and I have no intention of gloating or rubbing anyone's nose in what I assume to have been an honest mistake, for which all those concerned have apologised handsomely. Hence no direct links here.
I can't let this pass unridiculed.
I've just had a rather interesting experience. I was using the 'Listen Again' facility provided by BBC Radio 4 to listen to last night's Archive Hour. This was about the era-defining voyage of the USS Nautilus under the North Pole in1958. Nautilus at the time was the world's only nuclear-powered ship, and it was the first time such a feat had been possible.
I was pointed to the quiz in the previous post by a contributor to Drink-Soaked Trotskyite Popinjays For War who turned out to be North Korea. Who knew? Actually, it wasn't any of the DSTPFW contributors I'd encountered before, such as Cloud (on my blogroll) WIll (whose first exchange of comments with me began with his calling me an idiot and then went on to complain that I hadn't blogrolled him; I have to give him style points for that, though whoops, still not on that blogroll) or Hak Mao. It was a trainee mental health nurse with a quite entertaining blog of his own. His 24th February post is a plug for what on the face of it seems like a march worth supporting. However, when I noticed that on the list of speakers was Mark Wallace of The Freedom Association I changed my mind.
I just took this rather silly test to see what country I'd be if I were a country. Apparently I'm:
From Gordon, who left it up to the rest of us to tag ourselves. OK:
A pretty silly question given the very public airing of the answer! Like Gordon, I don't think I really have any, as I'm very much a take-me-as-you-find-me person. Love me, love my John Cage, Shoukichi Kina, Captain Beefheart.... But if you want something I like and will defiantly defend against mockers, how about The Bush Girl by The Seekers (from Future Road, their last album)? I saw them on their final tour, and may be the only person in the known universe to go to gigs by The Seekers and Iron Maiden within a couple of months. And I enjoyed both shows immensely. And bought the CDs.
5. A track that accompanied you when you were lovesick.
Time Will Cure Me by Andy Irvine of Planxty (from The Well Below The Valley). It did, eventually.
6. A track that you have probably listened to most often.
Modern Times by Al Stewart. I saw him do it live in Newcastle in the mid 1970s as a student, and I thought it was incredibly poignant: about the downside of following your dream. I still feel that way.
7. A track that is your favourite instrumental.
If I follow Gordon and put a classical one in here, it would be Fratres by Arvo Part, played by the 12 cellos of the Berlin Philharmonic (available on the ECM album Tabula Rasa). I've already described this one. Otherwise, I don't know, maybe What Time by Runrig (from The Highland Connection).
8. A track that represents one of your favourite bands.
Hurry Sundown by Peter Paul & Mary (from Album). One of my favourites of their songs, though I could easily have shortlisted half a dozen. I saw them twice live, and they were amazing both times.
9. A track which represents yourself best.
Little Black Dress (from Shock Treatment by Richard O'Brien of Rocky Horror Show fame). I do the actions. And as I knew the soundtrack before I saw the film, they're even more outrageous than the real ones. Darling.
OK. Probably too much information here. Next....
19. A track that you want to be played on your funeral.
Detritus read by Dave Cash (from Guide Cats for the Blind - the Songs and Poems of Les Barker). Obviously people will tend to be sad or at least subdued at my funeral, but I'd like them to cheer up and have a laugh. I can't think of anything better for that than this track. ("Remember that it is darkest just before dawn. This is the time to steal your neighbour's newspaper.")
20. A track that you’d nominate for the “best of all times” category.
Common People by Pulp (from Different Class). Probably the best pop song ever written. I find something new in it every time I hear it.
Unlike Gordon, I will tag someone. How about...Anna and Meg? Of course, any other visitors are welcome to post responses. If you do so on your own blog, please leave a comment here so we can find you.
I've just been reading a profile in the Independent of Sir Jonathon Porritt, Bart. (I kid you not.) There was a stand-up comic once who reckoned he could never trust Colin Powell as the guy didn't know how to pronounce his own name. Well, clearly JP doesn't know how to spell his (isn't a Jonathon where a load of people get swallowed by whales for charity?)
Last year, the Saunders family had a long weekend at Oasis Holiday Village, the Center Parcs complex in near the Lake District. It was good fun in all kinds of ways, but perhaps the most memorable thing was our discovery that one of the cable channels in our villa was permanently tuned to a webcam by a badger sett; especially when I turned it on mid-evening to see three badgers lolloping about. We sat glued to their antics, and thereafter spent more time watching that channel than any other. Badgers! Lookit! Badgers!
By "Aldous Huxley Syndrome" I mean (with a nod to Sheryl Crow's "I was born on the day Aldous Huxley died") the phenomenon of people whose deaths go largely unremarked because they coincide with other great events. Most people missed Huxley's death because John F Kennedy was busy being shot that day. Similarly, it was a while before most people caught up with Mother Teresa's death, on account of some princess in a Paris car crash.
... and fear, and prejudice, and ignorance...
Petite needs cheering up. Big time.
Thanks to Joe for this too. Something else we have in common (though caffeine addiction level = low doesn't sound quite right).
You Are an Irish Coffee
At your best, you are: wild, spontaneous, and outgoing
At your worst, you are: too extreme and reckless
You drink coffee when: you want to keep drinking booze
Your caffeine addiction level: low
My position on animal testing is fairly simple. On the whole, we shouldn't do it. In most cases, there are perfectly acceptable alternative ways of testing, whether by using in vitro methods or by carrying out computer simulations. Such alternatives adequately cover, for example, the requirements for testing cosmetics, which is why the use of animals for such testing is banned in Britains and why people like Tipu Aziz are simply out of date. Maybe animal testing of cosmetics is allowed in India: that is never going to convince me that it's a good thing.
First of all, some good news: a bunch of animal rights terrorists get sent down. My heart, of course, bleeds for the proprietor of SHAC's hate website, who has been ordered to remove the names and addresses of the people whose windows were being broken, and whose mailboxes were being filled with offers to cut open their children. Clearly having one's rights to threaten the butchery of small children abridged "reeks of fascism". If you live on the planet Bizarro, anyway.
Sometimes people can surprise us.
I'm as big a caffeine junky as the next man, but this is just a leeeeetle bit further than I'd want to go.
Tagged by Lisa with this one: eight significant songs to take to my desert island and two days to come up with them.
I've just been reading this in the Guardian, and John Crace should know better. Or he should get someone who knows better to write his stuff for him.