Author: janus
Try to keep up
I realised how out of touch I am when one of my young clan emailed me on my birthday, ‘Haps baps Gramps!’ A swift google informed that’s how the incrowd say it these days.
But senility apart, I’ve always been fascinated by dialect expressions, from Cockney slang to common or garden terms. All my grandparents (b. 1878 – 80) used them constantly. ‘Be said!’ ‘It’s a new gansey.’ ‘Give it some elbow grease!’ ‘I’ve got it fast here.’ ‘They’re gilli flowers.’ ‘Give me a dollop o’ that.’ It’s really taters out.’
Still awake? OK – show me yours!
Cheer up!
The prophets of doom need a cause. The flavour this year is Brexit failing and the downfall of civilisation as we know it. Every hack has an informed source to prove the point; conspiracies, rebellions and incompetence abound in every corner of the Tory camp. Allegedly.
So may I respectfully aver that the Eurolands have no interest in a dead Brexit, whatever their unelected prats may say. In the next two years the wobbly wilderness aka the EU will be struggling to avoid further flounces, bankruptcies and distractions; never mind scoring a famous own-goal by upsetting its almost-former member, their trusted trading partner.
So come on Ms May, do it on Tuesday and stick it to those self-satisfied Europrats.
That’s the spirit – or is it?
Who or what is the entity known as ‘I’? The whole composite of mind and body? Or just the persistent voice in ‘my’ head that tries to deal with the rest? And how do ‘my’ deep-sleep dreams fit into the definition you prefer? Thinkers down the ages have wrestled with the topic and supernaturalists have formulated conflicting explanations, leading to revolution and war. And now some new science will fuel the flames of the debate. There seems to be brain activity after ‘death’ as defined by accepted medical practice.
Does this persistent brain activity have any ‘purpose’? Is the owner ‘conscious’ of it? That is, what is it for, if anything? Or is it like the decapitated chicken that keeps on running? Or a turbine spinning after shut-down?
Fascinating, huh?
Caption, anybody?
Mad Men
The second series has finally arrived in the Nordic region. Stale news, I expect, for many viewers on the cutting edge, but hey! I’m eating it like the best mature cheddar, with relish. And I have my reasons, which I think Christina might recognise.
40 Berkeley Square, JWT, 1954
Snowdrops
Far out – right?
Already infamous for his description of black people, Mr Korwin-Mikke now has views on women! A star in the Europarliament’s almost empty firmament!
Donald, where’s your troosers?
Let the wind blow high
Let the wind blow low
Through the streets
In my kilt, I’ll go
All the lassies say hello
Donald, where’s your troosers
Shrovetide

Celebrated far and wide in Olde Englande, the annual festival still thrives. Can you guess the origin of this song composed in 1891 in a town I know well?






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