The BBC’s article on a recently-released book about the remnants of India’s Anglo-Indian population made me think of one of the most under-considered aspects of colonial experiences: the human product. From the 17th to early 19th centuries it was hardly considered inapprop Read more…
This on the Spectator Coffee House site, shows in what low regard journalists hold those with the temerity to comment on their pieces.
Dropping Mrs J off for in Wallingford her quilting class I looked across the road and saw the scene below. Had to take a picture of it on my little Nokia because it says something although I have no idea what.
As my scheduled departure date to Spain was drawing near I grew increasingly frantic. Perhaps it’s because my sense of adventure is starting to resemble Keith Vaz’ reputation for probity or my gut instinct warning me that something was terribly wrong. Whatever it was, once my nerves had recovered somewhat and my mind was passingly clear it was apparent that Spain was not exactly an ideal country for me. I remember feeling as if my hearse arrived when I see the Iberia Airbus A321 pulling into the gate at Kastrup in February. Read more…
I always knew that Dundee was a centre for the processing of jute and the manufacture of jute products (Juteopolis) and I also knew that the industry had been lost to India and other parts where Jute could be grown, although the coup de gras was administered by the advent of artificial fibres notably polypropylene.
What I didn’t know (until today) was that the industry really got started when it was discovered that by treating jute fibres with whale oil they could be processed by machine, and of course Dundee had once been heavily involved in the whaling industry.
I’m sure you will all be better for knowing this.
It appears from the papers that further restrictions are to be placed on availability of procedures within the NHS according to judgment as to ‘erroneous’ lifestyles by the powers that be.
Isn’t it about time the contributing population to said organisation got on their hind legs? Since when is it morally or legally acceptable to decline service to those who have already paid?
Wogs from all corners of the earth are treated free, no effort whatsoever being made to collect payment. Bizarre surgical renderings of people’s sexuality. Tits enlarged or shrunk according to whim. Anything seemingly except hip replacements or eye surgery to render life livable for the elderly, fat or smokers! Especially if they are white!
This is about John Dalton, my alter ego. The London Science museum is celebrating the 250th anniversary of his birth, as described here .
As you can see from the text, he was Four-eyed, he was English, and he was, most definitely, a genius.
I’ve posted about this book before and have just finished reading it for the third time and it hasn’t palled. Written by Malcolm Hamilton Beattie it is an count of his years in the Bengal Pilot Service as a pilot on the Hooghly. I particularly like the dedication which is copied below.
You can get a .pdf of the whole book here
I SHALL dedicate this book to Jimmy Keymer.
All through the South-West Monsoon the gulls who keep
us company at the Sandheads are small white fellows with
black heads. But when the North-East Monsoon has quite
set in, a big, greyish-brown gull makes his appearance. We
called him Jimmy Keymer, after an old pilot of long ago
who was extremely skilful in his day and had become a
legendary hero. October is a cyclone month. The early
part of November is not too safe as to weather. But when
Jimmy sails into view we know that we are all right, and
that the North-East Monsoon is really in. In grateful
recognition of his friendly reassurance in many successive
years I dedicate this book to him.
The average age of a Charioteer is most likely in the Chris Woakes bowling speed range. Well played, those said charioteers for being long lived. Your blushing, “youngish”, modest, unassuming Arts Editor hits the big Hawaii Five-O this autumn.
I don’t expect any round of applause for making fifty. I won’t raise my bat, 5-0 is not the middle of life any more. Fifty is the new twenty. However, as I near the new twenty a crisis has happenstanced.
There is a new woman in my life. She understands me more than my wife. This woman…
She is Black.
She is slim
She is pretty.
She has shark-toothed fret markings.
Here she is. Read more…