Monument

HMS Glorious

Sat, 18 May 2013 10:18:31 GMT

In my dream last night, the admirals came to tell Elizabeth I that the Spanish were invading, and she said, "Well, repel them." But as the admirals were leaving, she added, "Wait, come back. I have invented a submarine, and I think this would be the best chance to test it in action. I shall call it HMS GLORIOUS." So HMS Glorious was built, and Elizabeth insisted on being the pilot. It carried no torpedoes, for they had not been invented, but instead it had a sharp point at the front which was used to ram the Spanish ships (yes, you're welcome to give a Freudian reading to this). And as the Armada sank ship by ship, the sailors would cheer and say, "Well done, your Majesty! Er, I mean, well done, mysterious sailor whose name we forgot."

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in my head, scribbled down

Fri, 10 May 2013 12:35:28 GMT

This assassination plan
In nineteen sixty three
(Which was soon for Lyndon B.)
Involved a knoll and a rifleman
Who was (or was not) named Lee.

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"What do you think I fought for at Omaha Beach?"

Fri, 10 May 2013 11:16:14 GMT

In 2009, a WWII veteran named Phillip Spooner spoke to a committee of Maine lawmakers in support of equal marriage. In 2010, Melissa Dunphy set Spooner's words to music, winning the Simon Carrington Chamber Singers Composition Competition. This is that piece.

"Good morning, committee. My name is Phillip Spooner and I live at 5 Graham Street in Biddeford. I am 86 years old and a lifetime Republican and an active VFW chaplain ... I was born on a potato farm north of Caribou and Perham, where I was raised to believe that all men are created equal, and I've never forgotten that. I served in the U.S. Army, 1942-1945 ... I worked with every outfit over there, including Patton's Third Army. I saw action in all five major battles in Europe... I was in the liberation of Paris. (I have seen much, so much blood and guts, so much suffering, much sacrifice.) I am here today because of a conversation I had last June when I was voting. A woman ... asked me, "Do you believe in equality for gay and lesbian people?" I was pretty surprised to be asked a question like that. It made no sense to me. Finally I asked her, "What do you think I fought for at Omaha Beach?" For freedom and equality. These are the values that make America a great nation, one worth dying for. My wife and I did not raise four sons with the idea that our gay son would be left out. We raised them all to be hard-working, proud, and loyal Americans and they all did good."

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The King of the Boeotians

Sun, 05 May 2013 14:00:17 GMT

This is the song Eurydice's jailer sings to her in hell. As so often in Offenbach's "Orpheus in the Underworld", comic pathos abounds.

"When I was king of the Boeotians, my kingdom prospered far and wide,
Bounded only by the oceans, until one day I took ill and died.
I remember without emotion the crown from which I had to part,
For now your charms cause such commotion in the kingdom of my heart!
Oh, had I known these fond emotions when I was king of the Boeotians!

If I were king of the Boeotians, you would reign there by my side.
Ah, do not shudder at the notion! I was attractive... before I died.
And though I have not one promotion through the ranks of souls in hell,
No ghost could offer such devotion, or take the heart that means so well
Of the late king of the Boeotians, the former king of the Boeotians."

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The ballad of Thomas the Rhymer's optician

Mon, 22 Apr 2013 19:23:17 GMT

I scribbled this down as a teenager:

True Thomas lay on Huntlie bank; he'd gone down there to do some fishing;
He couldna see the other side, so he went down unto his optician.
"O see ye not that broad, broad road that lies across the lily leven?
That is the path of wickedness, though some call it the road to heaven.
And see ye not that narrow road, all thick beset with thorns and briers?
That is the path of righteousness, though after it but few enquires."
O no, O no, True Thomas said, the wicked road's too far away;
I can but see the gudely road, all clear as in the light of day.
"O, you're short-sighted, True Thomas, and you'll need glasses for to see,
And now you'll give me seven pounds, for we don't give these eye-tests free."

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Rainbow

Fri, 12 Apr 2013 18:47:45 GMT

Walking home through the rain, I passed a businessman hurrying the other way under an umbrella.

Businessman: Excuse me. Can you tell me how to get to the Crown Inn?
Marn: (pointing) Wait. Look behind you, there, or you'll miss the rainbow!
Businessman: (turning) It's beautiful!
(Short pause.)
Businessman: Do you know the way to the Crown?
Marn: Well, you see that road there...

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Mrs T

Mon, 08 Apr 2013 13:10:16 GMT

For myself, I am not at all intending triumphalism over Thatcher's death. I could once have wished her to suffer for making others suffer, but those years of dementia are suffering I would never wish on anybody. And the Thatcher who has died is a frail old woman who has lost her mind, not the person who did all that damage all those years ago: her death now cannot be good news to anybody because it can solve nothing at all. I had little good to say for her while she lived, and I have little good to say for her now she's dead. But what I'm mostly mourning is the loss of the life of a powerful and intelligent person who could have made the world so much better and did not.

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Steno: Song of New Year's Eve

Tue, 02 Apr 2013 14:21:22 GMT

Text for today: "Look to your lord who gives you life" (the first line of "Song of New Year's Eve").

This is mostly unremarkable:

Look = HRAOBG (note AO is this vowel as well as the vowel in Food, if those differ for you)
To = TO as spelt
Your = YOUR as spelt
Lord = HRORD. Typing this as HRORT gives you "life-support", which is amusingly appropriate.
Who = WHO as spelt (this threw me)
Gives = TPKWEUF + Z. You can actually do this in one chord but I don't feel quite confident enough, so I did it in two.
You = U, just the letter. (You might assume from this that Your is UR, but that's You're.)
Life = HRIF

Edit: I am moving these posts to a thread on the Plover Aviary.

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Lost

Tue, 26 Mar 2013 21:40:35 GMT

Odd thing this afternoon: I was tidying up when I suddenly remembered I had to ask the doctor for more medication before the Easter break. So I walked off towards the surgery.

On the way I passed a woman walking around anxiously beside an expensive car with British numberplates that was parked beside the road. There was a toddler in a car-seat inside, but no other adults around, which makes it all the odder that the car carried L-plates.

The woman asked me in broken English if I could tell her the postcode where we were, so I wrote it down for her. She repeated it into her phone in a Romance language I don't know (this combined with her eastern European accent makes me think she was Romanian). Then she asked how she could find some petrol, but she didn't know the word and in the end resorted to pointing at the petrol cap. I drew her a map. She said, "I am here with my baby. I am lost." I said, "I was getting that." She asked me the way to the M11, which I had no clue about, but I drew her a map of the way to the M25. I said, "Can I help you with anything else? Can I leave my phone number with you?" She said, "No, no," and pointed at her phone, "my husband".

On my way back, I passed the car again, but the woman and child were gone. I took one of my business cards and wrote "We spoke earlier. If you need anything, call." and put it on the window. I haven't heard from her, though.

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Lots of poetry!

Sat, 23 Mar 2013 15:08:05 GMT

This is part of my set reading my poetry at March's "Pop Up Poetry" in Guildford. The poems are "Thomas", "Fishmonger", "The Creation of Beans", and "Puppy Dreams". I hope you enjoy it; feedback is welcome, as ever.

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The buyer of bargains

Sat, 23 Mar 2013 15:04:09 GMT

Samuel Johnson in 1758, describing someone fictional we've all met. Worth the read.
----
I am the unfortunate husband of a "buyer of bargains". My wife has somewhere heard, that a good housewife "never" has any thing to "purchase when it is wanted". This maxim is often in her mouth, and always in her head. She is not one of those philosophical talkers that speculate without practice; and learn sentences of wisdom only to repeat them: she is always making additions to her stores; she never looks into a broker's shop, but she spies something that may be wanted some time; and it is impossible to make her pass the door of a house where she hears "goods selling by auction".

Whatever she thinks cheap, she holds it the duty of an economist to buy; in consequence of this maxim, we are encumbered on every side with useless lumber. The servants can scarcely creep to their beds through the chests and boxes that surround them. The carpenter is employed once a week in building closets, fixing cupboards, and fastening shelves; and my house has the appearance of a ship stored for a voyage to the colonies.

I had often observed that advertisements set her on fire; and therefore, pretending to emulate her laudable frugality, I forbade the newspaper to be taken any longer; but my precaution is vain; I know not by what fatality, or by what confederacy, every catalogue of "genuine furniture" comes to her hand, every advertisement of a warehouse newly opened, is in her pocketbook, and she knows before any of her neighbours when the stock of any man "leaving off trade" is to be "sold cheap for ready money".

Such intelligence is to my dear-one the Syren's song. No engagement, no duty, no interest, can withhold her from a sale, from which she always returns congratulating herself upon her dexterity at a bargain; the porter lays down his burden in the hall; she displays her new acquisitions, and spends the rest of the day in contriving where they shall be put.

As she cannot bear to have any thing uncomplete, one purchase necessitates another; she has twenty feather-beds more than she can use, and a late sale has supplied her with a proportionable number of Witney blankets, a large roll of linen for sheets, and five quilts for every bed, which she bought because the seller told her, that if she would clear his hands he would let her have a bargain.

Thus by hourly encroachments my habitation is made narrower and narrower; the dining-room is so crowded with tables, that dinner scarcely can be served; the parlour is decorated with so many piles of china, that I dare not step within the door; at every turn of the stairs I have a clock, and half the windows of the upper floors are darkened, that shelves may be set before them.

This, however, might be borne, if she would gratify her own inclinations without opposing mine. But I, who am idle, am luxurious, and she condemns me to live upon salt provisions. She knows the loss of buying in small quantities, we have, therefore, whole hogs and quarters of oxen. Part of our meat is tainted before it is eaten, and part is thrown away because it is spoiled; but she persists in her system, and will never buy any thing by single penny-worths.

The common vice of those who are still grasping at more, is to neglect that which they already possess; but from this failing my charmer is free. It is the great care of her life that the pieces of beef should be boiled in the order in which they are bought; that the second bag of pease should not be opened till the first be eaten; that every feather-bed should be lain on in its turn; that the carpets should be taken out of the chests once a month and brushed, and the rolls of linen opened now and then before the fire. She is daily inquiring after the best traps for mice, and keeps the rooms always scented by fumigations to destroy the moths. She employs workmen, from time to time, to adjust six clocks that never go, and clean five jacks that rust in the garret; and a woman in the next alley lives by scouring the brass and pewter, which are only laid up to tarnish again.

She is always imagining some distant time, in which she shall use whatever she accumulates: she has four looking-glasses which she cannot hang up in her house, but which will be handsome in more lofty rooms; and pays rent for the place of a vast copper in some warehouse, because, when we live in the country, we shall brew our own beer.

Of this life I have long been weary, but know not how to change it: all the married men whom I consult advise me to have patience; but some old bachelors are of opinion that, since she loves sales so well, she should have a sale of her own; and I have, I think, resolved to open her hoards, and advertise an auction.

I am, Sir,

Your very humble servant,

PETER PLENTY.

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The stick's day off

Fri, 08 Mar 2013 21:30:49 GMT

I'd left the Staff Hrothgar in the car today, because we went out last night and today I was busy. This evening I walked into town to get Chinese and for once didn't take Hrothgar. On the way:

GROUP OF LOCAL YOUTHS: Where's the stick?
ME: It's his day off.

When I came back the same way ten minutes later they were still talking about it. "Hey, ask him where the stick is and he'll say it's the stick's day off!" one of them said. I think the last time I had to listen to comparable levels of inanity I was at school.

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Memory

Thu, 07 Mar 2013 00:08:38 GMT

I can't sleep. But I was just remembering being six years old and made to sit in the hallway outside my classroom, the desk being put there specially so that everyone who passed by would see it and remark on it, and being told to write out "I am a baby" a hundred times. And I am remembering defiantly writing "I am not a baby" and being made to do it all again.

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South Country

Wed, 06 Mar 2013 14:17:47 GMT

Today I am thinking about Hilaire Belloc's love-song to Sussex.

When I am living in the Midlands
That are sodden and unkind,
I light my lamp in the evening:
My work is left behind;
And the great hills of the South Country
Come back into my mind.

The great hills of the South Country
They stand along the sea;
And it's there walking in the high woods
That I could wish to be,
And the men that were boys when I was a boy
Walking along with me.

( Read more... )

I will gather and carefully make my friends
Of the men of the Sussex Weald;
They watch the stars from silent folds,
They stiffly plough the field.
By them and the God of the South Country
My poor soul shall be healed.

If I ever become a rich man,
Or if ever I grow to be old,
I will build a house with deep thatch
To shelter me from the cold,
And there shall the Sussex songs be sung
And the story of Sussex told.

I will hold my house in the high wood
Within a walk of the sea,
And the men that were boys when I was a boy
Shall sit and drink with me.

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Swan

Wed, 06 Mar 2013 13:37:22 GMT

Kit and my dad and I were talking about a swan who was injured on the Cam.

My dad: So what happened to the swan?

Marn: I heard the RSPB took him to a rehabilitation place in Norfolk until he was better, but he's back in Cambridge now. They said they hoped he'd find his wife again and settle down-- you know they mate for life. I was just imagining the conversation, though. "Where have you BEEN all this time?" "Er, Norfolk." "A likely story!"

My dad: "I can smell birdseed on your breath!"

Kit: "And is that a feather on your shoulder?"

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The Anglia Television Lottery

Mon, 04 Mar 2013 10:33:20 GMT

In my dream last night I went home to my parents' house and turned on the TV. Anglia Television was running their answer to the National Lottery. This being Anglia, it was a bit cut-price and the prizes weren't actually monetary. Most of them involved chocolate bars, but I remember there was also a year's free travel on the Milton Keynes tram system and a book of tickets allowing free entry to the women's toilets in Welwyn.

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EDM 1104

Sat, 02 Mar 2013 13:41:20 GMT

Much as I'm sure the NHS needs prayer at the moment, Miliband's EDM does not call upon MPs to pray for the NHS. But the EDM is worth supporting nevertheless; go and look at it and ask your MP to support it.

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Spam

Sat, 02 Mar 2013 13:21:47 GMT

Somehow this slipped through my spam filter. Possibly spamassassin decided it was stream-of-consciousness poetry?

Subject: Do you need a big ass Russian madam who are ready to talk on erotic themes?

You need Ukrainian with beautiful eyes that Madame is ready to talk about sex?They will tell you about their personal sexual experience, you might be interested!} They're so chic that you want to share your phone, and believe me, they will not mind =)

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Florida Man

Sat, 23 Feb 2013 19:16:48 GMT

Florida Man, Florida Man,
running around without any plan,
scruffy old jeans and permanent tan,
Florida Man.
He can appear at the flick of a wrist,
when he gets pissed, someone gets missed,
you'll hear it all from a journalist,
average man,
Florida Man.

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Ducks

Sat, 16 Feb 2013 20:15:04 GMT

Scene: A shop in Woking, today.

Assistant: That'll be £5, please.
Me: I was wondering. You know you have some rubber ducks for sale?
Assistant: Yes?
Me: Well, I was wondering... why are rubber ducks always yellow? I mean, have you ever seen a yellow duck? Ducks are brown, or there are the ones with green heads, but I've never met a yellow one.
Assistant: Hm. I've seen yellow ducks on the Thames.
Me: Really? Kit, could we go and look at the Thames this afternoon?
Kit: Maybe!
Assistant: Yes-- fluffy yellow ones. You know, the ducklings.
Me: Wait! You're right! Baby ducks are yellow! I was thinking of the adults. So rubber ducks are supposed to be ducklings, even the big ones?
Assistant: I think so, yes.
Me: Thank you! You've solved a mystery for me. What a helpful person!

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Jesse Boot

Sat, 16 Feb 2013 10:56:14 GMT

You know, I was thinking about Nottingham. And who are the two most famous sons of Nottingham? Robin Hood, and... Jesse Boot.

Jesse Boot! Jesse Boot! Riding through the hills!
Jesse Boot! Jesse Boot! Mixing stomach pills!
Take one a day! Safe to dilute!
Jesse Boot! Jesse Boot! Jesse Boot!

Jesse Boot! Jesse Boot! For your upset tum!
Jesse Boot! Jesse Boot! Here's magnesium!
Tastes like a chalk? Flavour with fruit!
Jesse Boot! Jesse Boot! Jesse Boot!

Jesse Boot! Jesse Boot! In an hour or less!
Jesse Boot! Jesse Boot! Makes an awful mess!
Wears his white coat over his suit!
Jesse Boot! Jesse Boot! Jesse Boot!

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letter to MP

Tue, 05 Feb 2013 06:30:30 GMT

Dear Philip Hammond,

I am writing to ask you to support the forthcoming bill for same-sex marriage, both as your constituent to ask for your vote in the Commons, and to show that not all Christians oppose equal marriage.

Some people have been encouraging me to write and ask you to vote against this bill. But I believe this is a matter of simple justice-- fair treatment for a large group of people who are spread throughout our society. Marriage is important, yes: it is so important that allowing it to some and not others is unfair.

I remain, etc.

Thomas Thurman
Chertsey

Edits: You can write to your MP here. You might also be interested in cjwatson's letter to his MP.

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Plover: When I was one and twenty

Fri, 01 Feb 2013 11:45:31 GMT

My Plover exercise for today was the first stanza of A E Houseman's poem "When I was one and twenty".

When I was one-and-twenty
I heard a wise man say,
"Give crowns and pounds and guineas
But not your heart away;
Give pearls away and rubies
But keep your fancy free."
But I was one-and-twenty,
No use to talk to me.

The non-obvious words are:

crowns KROUPBS (actually, this is fairly straightforward)
pounds POUPBDZ (why DZ? I suppose DS is harder to chord)
guineas - Plover doesn't know the word "guinea". I could have typed it out manually, but I approximated it using the name of the country Guinea and making it plural: TKPWEU/TPHAOE/-S. What I think is interesting about this is that TKPWEU alone is "I go".
pearls PERLS (not much surprise there)
rubies - this is a tricky one. RAOU/PWEU/-S. And RAOU alone is "rue" like the herb.
fancy TPAPB/SEU

and some where I got stuck on the vowels particularly:

away A/WAEU
keep KAOEP
free TPRAOE
use AOUS (or AOUZ)
talk TAUBG

I am beginning to feel I'm making progress at last!

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Judgmental Cambridge map

Fri, 01 Feb 2013 05:44:22 GMT

Suggestions welcome.

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Enormous palindrome

Wed, 30 Jan 2013 04:21:29 GMT

I mentioned this to Kit earlier. Note that "XI" is a standard abbreviation for a cricket team (hence "over").

HEADMASTER'S PALINDROMIC LIST ON HIS MEMO PAD
(by Joyce Johnson, 1967)

Test on Erasmus
Deliver slap
Royal: phone no.?
Ref. Football
Is sofa sitable on?
XI staff over
Sub-edit Nurse's order
Caning is on test (snub slip-up)
Birch (Sid) to help Miss Eve
Repaper den
Use it
Put inkspot on stopper
Prof. -- no space
Caretaker (wall, etc.)
Too many d*** pots
Wal for duo? (I'd name Dr O)
See few owe fees (or demand IOU)
Dr of Law
Stop dynamo (OTC)
Tel: Law re Kate Race
Caps on for prep
Pots -- no tops
Knit up ties ('U')
Ned (re paper)
Eve's simple hot dish (crib)
Pupil's buns
T-set: no sign in a/c
Red roses
Run Tide Bus?
Rev off at six
Noel Bat is a fossil
Lab to offer one 'Noh' play-- or 'Pals Reviled'?
Sums are not set

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