That’s where everyone else must be – for two days now. Meanwhile the chariot rusts away, awaiting the invention of the bike. 😣
Celebrity is now a goal sans frontieres. No matter the means, the end is all that matters. Whether it be an ugly face, an ugly physique, an ugly character or an ugly mouth, it will bring popular appeal and the meeja’s unstinting support.
Witness J Clarkson. Racism, dishonesty, violence, bullying. And celebrity.
Tomorrow, mid-morning, it will become dark, even quieter than normal in the woods (no birdsong) and quite chilly.
I recall that in August 1999 I was in the Potteries when the same thing happened. People became edgy and went outside to watch the event.
Who else will witness this, chariotwise, I wonder?
…..if you are still taking a peek at us now and them, please come back and give us an update on SA cricket and rugby and sort out the techo stuff. The S hemisphere needs you to speak for it!
Any road oop! I trust there is nothing amiss down there. Seeyer!
The English language, like its torturers, is losing the use of some of its bits! And that’s just plain irritating for proud students of its values.
In the old days a representative of a country enjoyed the epithet by means of an adjective: the English sprinter, the Australian batsman. No longer. S/he is now the England athlete, etc.
And even more cringeworthily, s/he no longer battles against opponents or protests against officials’ decisions. The preposition has gone awol.
And verbs? Who needs ‘em? Just use nouns instead. Our winner now debuts and podiums – such ugliness.
Put your bike back in the shed. Your renowned cricket test now qualifies a new nation of would-be immigrants.
Afghanistan defeated Scotland today!
And dontchya just love it?!
I’m a fan of Stephen Fry; as an actor and comedian. His modish decision to ‘marry’ a young man however makes me wonder what our ‘tempora et mores’ will eventually do to our culture.
I recall that as a student very few of my ‘class’ of ’61 were openly homosexual – not surprising, you say, given the legal penalties. But a couple were. One was a medic who also made no secret of his enjoyment of hard drugs. Others were demonstratively uninterested in girls – perhaps the only socially acceptable declaration they could make at that time. Hero worship was also rife – particularly among the ‘heartier’ sporting types. So there’s little doubt that homosexuality was alive and well and succoured among those who had spent 10 years in boys’ boarding schools. And not all grammar lads were chasing skirt either!
My point (if there is one) is that in those far-off days, it wasn’t an issue, any more worthy of comment than a ‘creeping Jesus’ type or rock-climber.
What has changed is that ‘live and let live’ has been replaced by ‘outing’, destroying dignity and forcing people to legitimise their life-styles.
I find it grotesque.
….the royal families in London, Madrid and Copenhagen.
You all know of the goings on in the Spanish and American courts which allegedly implicate the Houses of Bourbon and Windsor, both suggesting a lack of awareness of dignity, duty and accountability.
And today the Crown Prince here is being pilloried for his own disregard of the royal code. Twice during the weekend when the bridge over the Great Belt was closed owing to the persistent storms, he chose to drive over. Just him, no security – while thousands of other motorists had to wait or find other routes.
Nice job, eh?
Saturday at about 5 pm I texted Mrs J: ‘Being blown away here, best come home now.’ At 6 she replied: ‘On my way now.’ She was 12 miles away, helping out at a birthday do, and I reckoned it would take half an hour, given the stormy conditions and Mrs J’s careful driving.
At 6.30 my phone rang. ‘I’m OK but I’m stuck here, half a mile from home. Tree all over the road, car in the ditch. Can’t see a thing here.’
So I grabbed a torch, booted up and walked through the wild wood 400 m to the road, turned left and soon came to the fallen tree, hearing Mrs J saying, ‘I’m here and this kind gentleman will drive me home the long way round.’
Which he did, arriving soon after I had retraced my steps, troubled only by an inquisitive owl which swooped into my torchlight to see if I was edible.
This morning the rescue service could pull the car out of the ditch undamaged. So no harm done – apart from the fright of Mrs J’s life and a night of what ifs.