Author: Janus

Hey! I'm back ...... and front

Cardinal sins

I see that Cardinal O’Brien, the new ‘C’ word with a hard ‘C’, who until recently was known for being anti-gay-marriage as a ‘grotesque subversion’, has scored another own goal; and it rates with Maradonna’s hand-of-God affair some years ago.

The holy man has confessed that “my sexual conduct has fallen below the standards expected of me as a priest, archbishop and cardinal”, having earlier contested the allegations against him, which, one might observe, suggested he sympathised with homosexual activities of various kinds.

But hold on! Surely the phrase ‘my sexual conduct’ holds the key to this case. Isn’t celibacy all about not indulging in any at all? How can it have ‘fallen below’ any expectations? Clearly this old cleric never understood the nature of his vow to keep it in his cassock. Luckily for the young men of Scotland, he’ll swing his thurible no more in the name of everything that’s holy.

Stand up

Five Star Movement leader and comedian Beppe Grillo (R) speaks during a rally in Rome February 22, 2013.

Maybe I shouldn’t tell you, but I’m an ordinary person from an ordinary background; the sort of chap (allegedly) Cameron should be appealing to, if he is to hold on to the high immoral ground he inherited from the Blair/Brown tendency. In that case, then, let me say that he should take a leaf out of Beppe Grillo’s book and talk turkey, so to speak. The Italian has the advantage is that he is a comedian by profession rather than by accident, unlike Cameron, and can speak from the heart without risking his reputation. He says Italy’s disastrous economic plight may have to be solved by leaving the Euro and starting again with the Lira. Such honesty is unheard of in the gilded committee rooms of Brussels. Greece should have admitted it years ago. So Cameron should simply tell it like it is. Tell Beppe he’s right. Tell Hollande he’s pathetic. Tell the Scottish nationalists to go ahead and leave and see where it gets them. Tell Rebekka he fancies her rotten. Tell Cleggover to get a life or a party or both. And ask Boris to take over the Tories. Sorted.

Space but not a lot

Still riding high after our week in Prague, Mrs J and I have spotted another get-away-from-it-all opportunity; this time an all-expenses-paid adventure offering travel, see-sighting (Mrs J’s word) and, best of all, celebrity – especially designed for the mature couple. Yes, it’s Mars and back with no interference from tour-guides, cabin crew, windmills, or LibDem canvassers.

Continue reading “Space but not a lot”

Weathermania

It’s an A for anabatic and a B for beaver’s tail,
With a C for coriolis and a D for downdraft hail.
El Nino Southern Oscillation, fogbow’s visibility.
Gustinado, glaciation, a hodograph, helicity.

Please excuse my insolation, intertropical I’d say.
Jet streaks all around; and graphed the kilopascal way.
Lenticular, the lapse-rate, mamma clouds and mesonets,
Northern lights and NGMs will end in orographic sweats.

Beware the popcorn (sic) convection; pressure sometimes causes that.
Psychrometric intervention; rossby waves both shear and flat.
Theta-e, a turkey tower, an ultraviolet extreme;
UTC and UVV, with a gentle warm advective stream.

Old X is out of favour here but yougs and yellow winds prevail.
Zones and zulu time, the solar zodiac brings up the tail.
You’ll wonder what on god’s own earth (!) this catalogue of terms can be?
I don’t count sheep. I list like this the words of meteorology.

Weather vain?

You were noon sunshine, no, a heatwave’s blast
That stormed a myriad moons ago
And flooded all my thoughts with monsoon rains
Conspiring youth’s mild innocence to fade

What cyclone’s surge could dim that radiant glance?
What calmed the crashing jet streams of those hours?
Did gathering clouds obscure those flashing eyes
Or grey monotony depress those lighted waves?

(pic courtesy John Constable 1821)