Some of our readers might find this amusing, especially OZ and CO.
One of the more pleasant aspects of living in the Trier region is the architecture. Trier, as I have not been remiss in informing you, was at one time the second city of the Roman Empire. St Helena was born in Trier and Constantine the Great much preferred his mother’s hometown over Rome. Most days, when returning from grocers, I walk past St Nikolaus Church. A dreadful miscreation of the 1970s, it was built over a beautiful, if decrepit, Baroque church which in turn was built on the ruins of Constantine’s summer villa. The foundation stones can still be seen in the crypt, remnants of the bath can be seen – and touched – just beyond the church, nearer the cemetery.
From the church one can also see the former Konz train station. At one time a villa for military leaders of some standing in the region, this Renaissance structure has tragically seen better days. While structurally sound, years of neglect and oiks have conspired to the worst. The sandstone walls are covered with spray-paint and many windows are broken. Inside, graffiti is scrawled on the walls and the ceiling. Some oiks, it seems, have at least that much ambition.
I was watching the Tour Championship live on t’telly last evening – lulled almost to sleep by the drama – when wor Rory drove off at the 14th and appeared to miss the fairway to the right into some trees. There were the usual inane cries of ‘in the hole’ which always accompany players in America, but a red-shirted spectator pointed out that Rory’s pill had dropped from a tree into the gaping right-hand pocket of his shorts.
Rory shared the crowd’s amusement and recounted a similar happening at this year’s Scottish Championship, when his ball found its way up the trouser leg of a spectator ‘into the groin area’.
No, cherished reader, he did not attempt to play the ball in situ! Sorry to disappoint.
“That which is repeated has been, otherwise it could not be repeated, but the very fact that it has been makes the repetition into something new,” Kierkegaard
I am positive that this is the first time Kierkegaard has been quoted on The Chariot. It’s always good to bring something new to the table.
There I was manning the barricades of sanity against the gibbering hordes of the SNP and attempting to counter their deranged rantings with carefully selected barbs of calm wit and reason. And, to be scrupulously fair and honest, shouting at the odd one of the traitorous bastards just a tad every so often.
Then Mrs M suggested that I should unman said barricades for a long weekend and go for a wee trip just to allow me to calm down and to recharge my batteries of reasoned, totally understandable and justified invective. I humoured her and we drove off at lunchtime on the Thursday after I had set the Sky box to record the opening NFL game of the season on Thursday night, the England v India ODI on Friday and Germany v Scotland on the Sunday. Read more…
… are thought by many to be the worst ‘musical’ instrument ever invented.As a soldier, though, I can tell you on the best of authority that when you’re cold, wet, hungry, down to your last magazine and in the deep, deep do-do, the faint sound of the pipes floating in through the freezing fog is the most beautiful sound you’ll ever hear. The Jocks are coming…
In the wider social matrix, the contribution of Scottish engineers, scientists, mathematicians and canny businessmen, as well as artists, writers, musicians, historians…. is well known and widely documented in our history books.
If you’re ever wandering through the malls and street markets in Taikoo Shing, Hong Kong for example, you may notice this:
and I’m sure the charioteers, spread as we are over a significant portion of the globe, could add many more examples Read more…
The newspaper vendors tried their best to be heard over the multitude of buskers, great and small, that carnivalised the pedestrian precinct. To help sell their wares at their mobile kiosks the street traders had special extras to entice Mr and Mrs Public into buying their news. Free Mars Bar with today‘s paper, screamed the headline emblazoned over the front of their wheeled booth. As offers you can’t refuse go this one was a fence-splitting four faulter: small size of bar, the chocolate will melt in the afternoon heat, probably out of date and it is not fried. The declining newspaper industry will have to try better than that. Who wants to pay for inky fingers when you can strain your eyes online for free? Read more…
To all those residing in England, be forewarned that I shall bugger off to West County and London for a week in November.
But guilty of what?
We’ll find out later today.
Good evening all. After my long absence, I think I have reached the stage where I am reasonably fit to be seen again in polite ( mostly…) company. Where have I been? Well, I’ve been right here in the salubrious suburb of East Acton all along. I’ve been AWOL so long that I can’t remember where I was with my son’s illness when I slipped away and closed the door quietly behind me…
I’m sure I shared with you the fact that my son was suffering clinical depression? ( The good news is that he is well on the way to recovery. ) It was the fact that I’ve spent the last three years (good grief, it really is that long ,)supporting the lad through the worst of it that made me disappear from the radar. I really wasn’t good online company as I found myself on an increasingly shorter fuse and every time I put pen to paper it turned into more than a bit of a rant. I really didn’t want to subject my co-charioteers to that, hence the self-imposed exile. I haven’t been entirely off-line, but confined my excursions to James `Delingpole’s blog in the DT, (and that old duffer Geoffrey Lean,) where I was able to rant at the CAGW Whackos to my heart’s content :-)