Category: History

If I might

It’s offally risky talking politics here but I for one was pleased to see David Cameron’s bid to loosen the Eurocuffs which are dragging the members towards a state of bondage. Even more pleased that Angela Merkel wrong-footed Francoise Hollande by recognising that not every EU member wants totalitarian Eurocracy and will talk about the implications. Meanwhile don’t I hear many millions of Europeans shouting, “Yes! At last somebody is standing up and challenging the system.”?

Back at home, Labour doesn’t know what to say, except to reject the promised referendum or perhaps not. In fact Cameron’s tactics will be hard for Labour to oppose since they involve negotiating a ‘looser’ membership deal and asking the voters “Yes or No? In or Out”. They can’t oppose renegotiation because they know the strength of public feeling but equally they can’t jump on board. The Milimess will continue. But luckily even they won’t be proposing the Chinese model for the future!

Primogeniture for girls

One’s favourite royal is concerned. He’s afraid his future first grandchild might be female, marry an RC and thereby convert the monarchy to the Roman way of worship. Which raises a few interesting questions, I’m sure. Like: Wouldn’t it be best for him and his subjects if he himself abjured his Divine Right on accession? He must be one of only a few who a) believe that he is on an equal footing with the Godfather in the Vatican, b) want him (the PoW) as head of the CoE and c) care what a monarch does in the privacy of his/her own chapel. Or is he?

Big Ears also worries about all his fellow dukes and other hereditary peers, if the first-born son should no longer inherit as of right. What is the problem? As far as I can see the silver-spooned girls seem to be perfectly capable of rivalling their brothers in privileged education, conspicuous consumption and proxy child-rearing. Or does Charles suffer from the ‘Enry ‘Iggins Syndrome? ” Why can’t a woman……….be more like me?”

All for Nothing

It was early in the fifth century, although nobody seemed too sure about exactly how early,  when Dionysius Exiguus (Dennis the Short perhaps? Let’s call him Den. for short) was asked by his boss Pope John 1 to calculate the date of Easter for the next few years because the previous calculation only went as far as about 500 when the World was expected to end. (some of this may sound vaguely familiar)

Continue reading “All for Nothing”

Twelfth Night

I’ve been spending idle minutes trying to reconcile the arithmetic.  Twelve nights after…when? 24th or 25th December? Naeh. Do it with me: (24), 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 1, 2, 3, 4, (5) = 12 nights.  So 6th Jan is a no-no.

What I’m leading up to, is that the Chariot Competitions should be starting today, not tomorrow. Are you there, Mr OZ?

Fantasticks – January

As befits the New Year, here is January from Fantasticks, the strange calendar by Nicholas Breton (1554-1626).  I have been altruistically copying out months, as you may see from past postings.

JANUARY

It is now January, and Time beginnes to turne the wheel of his Revolution, the Woods begin to lose the beauty of their spreading boughe, and the proud Oke must stoop to the Axe: the Squirell now surveyeth the Nut and the Maple, and the Hedgehogge rowles up himselfe like a football: an Apple and a Nutmeg make a Gossips cup: and the Ale and the Fagot are the Victuallers merchandise: the Northerne black Dust is the during Fuell, and the fruit of the Grape heats the stomake of the Aged: Downe beds and quilted Cappes are now the pride of their service, and the Cooke and the Pantler are men of no meane office: the Oxe and the fat Weather now furnish the market, and the Coney is so ferreted, that she cannot keepe in her borough: the Currier and the Lime-rod are the death of the fowle, and the Faulcons bels ring the death of the mallard: the trotting gelding makes a way through the mire, and the Hare and the Hound put the Huntsman to his horne: the barren Doe subscribes to the dish, and the smallest seed makes sauce to the greatest flesh: the dryed grasse is the horses ordinary, and the meale of the beanes make him goe through with his travel: Fishermen now have a cold trade, and travellers a foule journey: the Cook room now is not the worst place in the Ship, and the Shepheard hath a bleake seat on the Mountaine: the Blackbird leaveth not the berry on the thorne, and the garden earth is turned up for her roots: the water floods runne over the proud bankes, and the gaping Oister leaves his shell in the streets, while the proud Peacocke leaps into the pye: Muscovia commodities are now much in request, and the water Spaniell is a necessary servant: the Lode horse to the mill hath his full backe burthen; and the Thresher in the barne tyres the strength of his flayle: the Woodcocke and the Pheasant pay their lives for their feed, and the Hare after a course makes his hearse in a pye: the shoulder of a hog is a shooing horn to good drink, and cold almes make a begger shrug. To conclude, I hold it a time of little comfort, the rich mans charge, and the poor mans misery.

Farewell.

The Coney “cannot keepe in her borough”  – wonderful spelling