doggerelology….
June 22, 2008
Having failed to live a poet’s life, I’ve had to go to college;
Poetics 101 should give my bard brain ample knowledge.
Poetaster Polytechnic’s just the place for me
(Since Oxford snubbed my metrical and rhyme-enhanced CV.)
(Who can blame them….?)
Looking through the syllabus there’s plenty to admire:
Alliteration lessons for the ladies of the lyre;
Seminars on assonance (assignments not required; )
And rhyming time’s at nine if your sublime lines ain’t inspired.
(Which this lot definitely ain’tn’t….)
This verse city’s no Varsity, no dons, no balls or quads.
Professor G, our tutor, is indubitably odd.
He starts each day by facing Hay and muttering a prayer
And lectures us whilst slumped within an autographed deck-chair.
(This is really rather silly….)
His deputy, the Vice Verser, is also somewhat skewed:
Free verse, says this lady, must be written in the nude.
Woe betide the bow-tied poet grafting in his cell
When she comes in to give him very merry villanelle.
(Sorry about that: the previous line sounds good but it’s totally meaningless….)
Eventually I’ll graduate, entitled to my card
Appending to my name the suffix “PHD and bard”
(That’s “Pretty Hopeless Doggerel” in case it wasn’t clear)
And just to prove the point I think I’ll end this rubbish here….
(Nothing to see here: move along….just carry on below where we left off chatting from the previous thread….)
June 22, 2008 at 10:49 am
‘He starts each day by facing Hay and muttering a prayer
And lectures us whilst slumped within an autographed deck-chair.
(This is really rather silly….)’
‘His deputy, the Vice Verser, is also somewhat skewed:
Free verse, says this lady, must be written in the nude.
Woe betide the bow-tied poet grafting in his cell
When she comes in to give him very merry villanelle.’
Astonishing. Whatever you’re smoking or imbibing, I want — make that DEMAND — some of it.
June 22, 2008 at 11:32 am
Actually Steve, for some reason I’m concerned about the bow-tied poet, seen grafting in his cell….
June 22, 2008 at 12:47 pm
There are worrying things in yours, steve. Not sure if it’s the spirit of Joyce, or the special chocolate I’ve been at, but you’ve inspired me to go and immerse myself in your few choice syllables
Wittering by the wet, white-weeded Wye.
O the wide-eyed toad
Bought the wide-bowed boat,
Towed by the bow in the Wye;
Dote, my beau boy, but no, no, don’t
Bite the white bone of my toes;
The wit wore two-toed boots,
A bow tie …
I’ll see if it can be finished (the sooner the better)
June 22, 2008 at 2:52 pm
I’ve just realised, thanks to freepoland’s follow-up, what inspired the “woe betide the bow-tied poet” thing:
“A tree toad loved a she toad
That lived high in a tree.
She was a two-toed tree toad
But a three-toed toad was he.
The three-toed tree toad tried to win
The she toad’s nuptial nod;
For the three-toed tree toad loved the road
The two-toed tree toad trod.
Hard as the three-toed tree toad tried,
He could bot reach her limb.
From her tree toed bower, with her V-toe power
The she toad vetoed him.”
(According to the book in front of me, these anonymous verses were apparently published in the “Mobile Register”, Alabama, in 1892; although there are differing versions and origins online.)
June 22, 2008 at 3:26 pm
obooki’s comment & link on the previous thread fell foul of the spambat (along with several pieces of genuine spam, which is why I’ve only just noticed it; sorry.) I’ll copy it here for the benefit of Powell afficionados:
****
“Cultural critic” Rod Liddle doesn’t like Anthony Powell. (Plus other people don’t like other stuff). Read about it here, if you’re bored:
http://entertainment.timesonline.co.uk/tol/arts_and_entertainment/books/article4170944
June 22, 2008 at 5:28 pm
(This is really rather silly….)
His deputy, the Vice Verser, is also somewhat skewed:
Free verse, says this lady, must be written in the nude.
Woe betide the bow-tied poet grafting in his cell
When she comes in to give him very merry villanelle.
(Sorry about that: the previous line sounds good but it’s totally meaningless….)
@@@@@@@@
doggerel,
You ask “silly?” Rather, it reminds me of Ezra’s, Meaningless? No. It’s a good poem i’m afraid, doggerel,
Just now i was reading the old man’s wisdom:
XI.
“CONSERVATRIX of Milésien”
Habits of mind and feeling,
Possibly. But in Ealing
With the most bank-clerkly of Englishmen?
No, “Milésien” is an exaggeration.
No instinct has survived in her
Older than those her grandmother
Told her would fit her station.
~~~~~~~~~~~
June 22, 2008 at 5:32 pm
wordnerd,
hadn’t read other comments, but it looks as if we’re highlighting the same stanzas,
dogg. must have been inspired by poppies, unknown variety. … share please…shared pleasure
June 22, 2008 at 9:31 pm
Love _both_ toad pomes. Do please finish yours, freepole.
Yes, ros, I see what you mean.
indeed. 
June 22, 2008 at 9:37 pm
Hey, thanks for my new symbol. Hated the old one.
And thanks for putting up obooki’s Powell link, dgg. He does dig up the most extraordinary stuff. Am afraid he thought I was having a go at him the other day when I said something about obscure and unpronounceable, but it was only a playful nibble, really — that should have been read as true appreciation.
I will save the Powell url for the day I feel like reading other people’s opinions of Dance. For the literature I care most about, I confess that I can’t usually be bothered to know what they are.
June 22, 2008 at 10:20 pm
This reminds me of grecoverde on cif, sometime around Christmas 2006; she actually presented a picture of a toad in her hand, she obviously likes them, I don’t. There are of course toads that could be princes on the inside, it’s just that there seem so many toads. btw why do other toads get involved? It gets hard to tell one toad from the other. I thought I had everything sussed in the beginning then….well confusion reigns! Seems to me though that the would-be groom has many friends, why?
I take it ropeofsand is really a woman so welcome, your input badly needed on site; this one, not here, does not have a brain.
ps. The previous stimulated conversation on cif re toads, came about because I said I used to run them over; had stacks of them on a then long driveway. In the evening couldn’t see them soon enough in the car headlights, but I had no regret. Lead to a discussion on ‘toady’ with Repunsal and I having our then usual clipped discourse. I think we became friends, but not sure, I can only give a one sided opinion of that.
June 22, 2008 at 10:22 pm
You’re in trouble Iamnothere 50 words remember!
June 22, 2008 at 11:30 pm
Viva Espana! About bloody time.
June 22, 2008 at 11:41 pm
Does that indicate Spanish blood, El Mel, or just relief at a tenner retrieved (temporarily….) from the bookies….?
June 22, 2008 at 11:53 pm
I still wonder whether any have seen the real moose.
June 23, 2008 at 12:00 am
I wouldn’t put money on the Spanish lads. Too temperamental, if you’ll forgive my stereotyping. A mixture of emotions-a result after 120 mins of sheer boredom, one of my prayers being answered, last but not least the Italians getting the chop. Their lack of ambition deserved the ultimate penalty. Thank you Fabregas!
June 23, 2008 at 8:57 am
‘I wouldn’t put money on the Spanish lads. Too temperamental, if you’ll forgive my stereotyping.’
And gobbly goo to you too . . . blahblahblah .. . football .. . blah
June 23, 2008 at 12:02 pm
Sorry, Mowbray. Got a bit carried away there. I was only trying to say that I enjoy reading you far more on more elevated subjects. . . chick lit, for example. Noticed that you resolved the renaming dilemma brilliantly. Too bad that the right people didn’t seem to notice. . . They commissioned that pop lit man for a redundant blog . . . Sigh.
WordPress must not have approved of my last post. The dull grey icon came back.
June 23, 2008 at 2:22 pm
Does anyone see any adverts when they come to this site? I gather (according to the WP forums) some ads are occasionally displayed, but not visible to the blog owner….I’ve just noticed that someone seems to have clicked an outgoing ad link that I wasn’t aware existed here, so I can only assume it’s one of those invisible (to me) ads….
June 23, 2008 at 7:11 pm
So wheaz y noat, Iain’t? “merry villanelle”, very good stuff, steve.
June 23, 2008 at 8:22 pm
Good to see you here, Isa….
June 23, 2008 at 9:26 pm
Hi, Isa. Thanks for your kind remarks on the odious Chav Nuetron-Bomb thread. Although calling me a better writer than cnb is a bit like calling me a better interpreter of Proust than Wayne Rooney. Still, I appreciate the thought.
June 23, 2008 at 10:29 pm
I hear Rooney offers quite good challenges to Baudrillard, though; it’s in the shoulders. (I feel quite soiled for having contributed to Newkey-Blowdown. Must keep off that sort of thing, maintain a disrespectful silence. Even decorative wrath is pointless when dealing with half-wits.)
June 23, 2008 at 11:11 pm
Anyone else visited the Telegraph book blogs since their w/e makeover? They’re trying really hard to make us Guardian types feel at home by hiding most of the blogs away from the Paper Tiger main page so that they’re hard to find, using cute little square box symbols in place of apostrophes, and have even introduced pagination for their comments – 5 at a time….it’s so touching….
June 24, 2008 at 12:05 am
Fucking toothache’s killing me. Bastard dentist tells me there’s nothing wrong last Thursday, today oh, yes, sorry your tooth’s cracked and there’s an abcess. Oh, and that will be £750.
June 24, 2008 at 12:24 am
Why so much? Is he/she going to carve netsuke on it?
June 24, 2008 at 12:52 am
Hi Steve,
Can I venture to say I don’t like that ’she toad’ and I think you were struggling with the word ‘villanelle’ likely your mind thought ‘hell’ or perhaps ‘villainelle’?
June 24, 2008 at 1:50 am
‘. Oh, and that will be £750.’
Reeling . . . Doesn’t the NHS do teeth anymore?
Welcome, Martha. Such an unusual perspective . . .
June 24, 2008 at 1:53 am
Mowbray, forgot to say . .. Sorry to hear that they don’t appear to have given you any pain medicine. Hope you can insist that they do, soon after the sun comes up . . . and that you are feeling better by the evening.
June 24, 2008 at 2:40 am
Melton,
Before I became a statue, I have had and found extremely painful.
Re Martha, Wordnerd and your comment of “…Unusual perspective”
That’s why she is not allowed out very often.
To solve the riddle of me. Sometime last year Iamhere had a discussion with Volov, exclaiming that she thought it best to stop thinking and just buy Rodin’s statue and let it do the work…well she debated with him whether wood, brass…etc
To my knowledge Volov disappeared soon after, would love to know whether he bought the silver or gold.
I, of course, come in gold.
June 24, 2008 at 5:56 am
‘That’s why she is not allowed out very often.’
So you run her, too, Iant? I suppose we’ll all be speaking of the reign of Iant the Terrible before too long … [shudders uncontrollably] Unless, of course, we can get you a GU poetry blogging gig to divert all those control freak-engendering chemicals.
June 24, 2008 at 7:55 am
Steve, a netsuke tooth made me laugh, but seriously..the high cost reflects the installation of a SAT-NAV device in mowbray’s tooth. It projects a read-out onto his retina so that he’ll always know his precise longitude and latitude. Think of it. MM will never be lost again.
Whether or not that’s a good thing is a different matter.
June 24, 2008 at 9:33 am
Thanks for your no balls Varsity verse steve – a joy
Oil of cloves MM – suck it and see, might help the pain, but the bill will still be there in the morning
June 24, 2008 at 9:34 am
mister Slievemore gold, black the night
light mauve crepuscular diffraction
cloud winding through Danann existence
singular rainbow of the phantom host
God mister, don’t take Cash, jolly cash
shot a man in reno once, just to watch
his eyes ceasing life, draining a point
editorial comprehension of the Concrete
life of criminal behaviour in poetries
not only biffo and unkind, but sounded
sounded to the God of concrete poetry
Ogma, sunny faced honey mouth, a mask
above the golden dawn, spectres flock
fan fawning across, c’mon Concrete B
Achill hawk at Noh theatrical enacted
poetry upon Keel strand as Croaghaun
Slievmore and the Minaun mountains awe
us into faith of Concrete poetry’s God
above the ancients on the bog, respect
they own name, Mister Concrete seemed
to be saying, hawk falls with the ink
nighted sidhe trip from all three peak
enact the psychic realm of Concrete P
Noh theatricals hurls, toe to hip, cut.
June 24, 2008 at 9:54 am
I see that Carol’s blog is attracting a deal of anti-science sentiment. On the Internet. Ironists become redundant. O tempora, o mores.
June 24, 2008 at 10:02 am
anti-science – hmmmm, not from me – always the skeptic Billy
June 24, 2008 at 10:10 am
No, parallax, not from you.
June 24, 2008 at 10:24 am
But don’t get me wrong; I am a sceptic and proud of it.
June 24, 2008 at 11:15 am
Sadly, we seem to be back to this idea that art and science are somehow antithetical, a view I utterly reject; I think they compliment one another. Isa believes that science was responsible for the Holocaust. What balls. A lack of common humanity was responsible, nothing more. One may as well blame geologists for earthquakes.
June 24, 2008 at 11:43 am
Sadly, indeed. A failure to see the beauty in science really is a shame and a limitation for anyone with an interest in art.
June 24, 2008 at 12:11 pm
Melton,
Viva Espana, thanks for the cheerleader, when do they play next?
Football would be a great topic, indeed,
I might try a go at some sonnet or villanelle,
BTW, I love toads and crows
which reminds me of freepoland and
Are there any experts on birds here? No help in the subject, other than my 1994 “The Edwardian Lady Diary”. Most fascinated by this medium-sized black one, with a yellow beak. Very articulated and musical. They cheer up gloomy spirits.
######
Re-reading doggerel’s piece, suppose my favourite stanza would be the one with the nude lady and her pupils.
June 24, 2008 at 12:14 pm
How to make up a book, a poetry collection?
Going back to my Spanish verses, that was my great headache: pieces in a same puzzle? Chronological order? Or assorted by form? Or…?
June 24, 2008 at 12:16 pm
O and BTW, i had nothing to do with anything happening in Carol’s blog, which i don’t touch.
*just in case:)
June 24, 2008 at 12:18 pm
Sorry Melton for your tooth ache, and 750 is too much, a crime, a rip off.
June 24, 2008 at 12:46 pm
Toads and crows ropeofsand: wonderful poetic subjects. Norman MacCaig has a nice little poem to a toad that begins:
‘Stop looking like a purse…’
And I am oddly moved by colour in animals; a man locally has made a pet of a white crow, and hereabouts there is an apparent increase in the number of black wild rabbits, black (red) squirrels, piebald jackdaws; I have no nuclear conspiracy explanation, but would welcome a Darwin to walk about with and offer some facts, speculations and hypotheses.
Darwin tended to specialise in species which didn’t run too fast: barnacles, earthworms, orchids. Whereas some species almost defy colour classification – seals, for example, and toads, though they’re easy enough to inspect. And many individual trees defy the guidebook descriptions, for which both scientists and artists thank them. I know maple trees that pretend to be oaks.
Much science is poetry unwritten; a walk on the seashore both tells you about the geological record and conjures new life into your lexicon.
June 24, 2008 at 1:31 pm
freepoland: “I know maple trees that pretend to be oaks.”
Who is sylva? What is she?
There is also Acer carpinifolium, the Hornbeam Maple, and Acer crataegifolium, with leaves like a Hawthorn. Oaks also number wannabees among their ranks: Quercus alnifolia, Q. castaneifolia, Q. laurifolia, Q. myrsinifolia, Q. myrtifolia, Q. phellos (willow oak; I have this in my garden and it confuses nearly everyone.) There are others, many of which are popular in arboretums with botany lecturers who delight in including them in spot identification tests for their students.
So, yes: “Much science is poetry unwritten”….
June 24, 2008 at 1:42 pm
steve: Eureka. Quercus alnifolia. The oak with leaves like alder. Sneaky ones, those, plenty of them trying to trick me on the banks of the River Aln (Aln = alder). You’ve done it now – I’ll have to go out this afternoon and check if they are alders pretending to be oaks or vice versa. You’d have thought you could trust an oak tree …
June 24, 2008 at 1:43 pm
MM: 750 quid! A tactic to take your mind off the pain?
And thanks for the very acute comments on “the stony field” BTW.
June 24, 2008 at 1:44 pm
freep, the perfidious nature of trees is well known. You know where you are with fruit…
June 24, 2008 at 1:50 pm
…no, seriously…you just say, ‘are you an apple, fruit of sin and cause of the Fall?’ and the apple will reply, ‘yes’ or ‘no, sorry, mate, I’m with Tescos..’.
See? It’s easy…
June 24, 2008 at 2:03 pm
mish: You been at the Granny Smith’s again, mate? You really find Golden Delicious delicious? I keep a proper critical distance from apples… malus, don’t forget; don’t trust this supermarket perfection. My garden apples closely resemble conkers.
June 24, 2008 at 2:19 pm
..are you kidding? I don’t eat apples. Look what happened to Adam. Cast out. I’m too old to be sleeping under bridges. I’m a peach man myself….
June 24, 2008 at 2:51 pm
….hence the expression : “with malus aforethought”….
June 24, 2008 at 2:56 pm
Ah, Eat a Peach, what an album. Duane’s slide guitar for the last time and all. Wonderful.
June 24, 2008 at 3:12 pm
Eureka Leaf of Oak
and aldermen: bowl
Noh theatrical hurl
Go to whir beyond
Lir’s eternal stir
ring Noh eyes from
a bottomless rung
invisible sidhe sp
under sea leaf, full
tide tide comes but
twice times three
times fifty awed
Druidic Tan dropped
by the fumbling in
jolly dasoon catch
gra a lot and lash
not lost, oracular
molecule mooing, un
loose the fasces rd
Hall of head editor
i the eye behind ae
swift o’er the sash
aying bowler’s hat
hit s/he collapsed
conn eyes a smooth
hundred bald acres
of a Kentucky Dese
cert: inter course
leaving, final fix
nutty picts of woad
blue savage, ennoble
Prospero each to our
own book/s of bhard
Concrete Now ledged
Noh: it comes, stare..
June 24, 2008 at 4:54 pm
ah, Billy..a fellow Allman Brothers fan? Cool..Eat A Peach was great but Live At The Fillmore East was better…have you ever listened to Bela Fleck?
June 24, 2008 at 5:42 pm
Eyed this morning, world wide awake
A sea full of potential eyed Thought’s
sadness and intercourse of Intellect
Some of the nectar, dna plants often
so often
you think of great distress: English X
Sea so often An Mhuman: bhard’s eye
Clay words distanced great distance S
Whorled brehon, extraordinary petals
see One who inks a petal dyed cream
shut fully our the sun above Lir so full
stirring eternity, it reminds one of yr
nads, hands, dna: eat yr puppies A
my why if it isn’t ms X of the o’Shay
It is a diverse world
Amy and Emma, the Concrete structure
breathing, taking us to the isle of Happy
Amy darling, let me moo, never unlearn
Yr telepathic lessons, dearest these
hours of bhard big fat fitz UK fact’s word
I think of yrs, as eyes especially 4 you
Boo hoo and bah ! as s/he observed
Those flowering orchids you admire so
British Noh Party, the continuance of T
Radical scangers, scop hitmen, poetry
Assassins Amy, I know yr one too, three
Triplicate God amy,
Well done Newman, yr in My gang, fawn and B
King chaser nuke, scangers scum, fake plassies, snot lite, anyone for Dennis?
i would like to give you
all the varieties of orchid.
Bees cut holes and suck
at the bases of certain flowers, which,
with a very little more trouble you *can enter
at the mouth* with me darling amy new Man
Imbic bloggerilist dogger on New man com
Mon with yr biffo Man: to wit, a BiG Fat Effer
From Offaly dearest amy darling, that is i
*The mistletoe depends on birds to spread
its seeds, the
flowers depend on insects,* I love you Amy
all new Man it is then, all of it, seriously,
a series of increasingly apparent
relationships. Nature moves s/he and I
*in profitable steps.
To propagate, the orchid,
I am flustered to* wit
To WaR with yr newman amy, to write,
and Recite, Live, me and you Newman
*requires the co-operation
of the male wasp, and so resembles
we have acquired some ideas of the lapse of time;
the mind cannot grasp the full meaning of the term
of even a million years
Do you remember that morning I smelled of yr nectar
Des, Darling,
*the world is feral, and we are natives
Of all the species of bee,* as in chas newkie B Amy darling
Let me hug you one more time
only the humble-bee can visit the common red clover.
Of yr humble pad, dna and Art replicated in our fasces
It has to do with curvature, with length
of the proboscis” small, boring slightly up
yr appreciation Society of Me more than U
CK two faced janus sean nos, be with us
buy
*Whole fields of red clover
offer in vain their abundant supply
of nectar to any other bee.* Amy Newman, yr
Majestic self soars,
*The idea
of a vast spread of fresh green waiting
with all its juice,* in my Attic HQ
Instinct! The mental processes of animals!
To propagate, the orchid
4 more me’s and yous the sailor darling amy
may I make Love with yr Work fellow ecstatic
visionary Woman in love with my Mind amy
may it ever require
*the participation of
the male wasp, to get the pollen
on his legs, and to get him to transfer
the pollen to other orchids.*, up yr Noh
theatre, womb of the sidhe, the s/he
of you and Me, all of us amy, may it be
the Mind
*The orchid must resemble genitalia,
a female wasp, her body,
so the insect will copulate*
now yer turning Me on, c’mon amy Newman, that’s what I need to pollenate,. Flower me with yr honey gob amy newman, give me the Royal rainbow above
seven stamen shades of Pink Concrete poetries
*with the flower. The orchids had to become
desirable, so this man wasp
will alight from one to another,* bumming
*cross-pollinating. She wears her colour
like flesh, and scents brazenly* mooin like a desparado fish wife
for him: spreading herself in the cooler air; out for his inspection
the daddy Insect comes, ends the relationship
uses her for you know what, X marks the SE
*her sweet interior; the fumbling
of the dizzy wasp. This did not happen
as a whim. This is
an extremely intricate subject.* of appearing matt Concrete in the
similar framework of bones in the hand of a man,
wing of a bat,
fin of a porpoise,
leg of the horse*
eat those animals body parts post slaughtered
your subtle pearl throat, in heat, how yr glow
sucks me in, the flesh and yr skin, fragile
almost blood this morning, in a field s/he
felt drawn to clover with Concrete Poetry
this humble drone, I carried a world’s
mouth* and suck up nectar amy new Man
needed for the job, of making Concrete
pattern in the wing and..leg of..bat,
in the petals, stamens and pistils of flowers
in Sloppy Bob the poet in residence
*This is a matter of perfection, over time,
and complication. Did the orchid have the means
to think itself into seducing, to adapt as idea
the perfect dress of reproduction,
the female wasp
a bit of fur and soft petal
curved like its soft parts
Last night a dream: you and I dusted in pollen*
I would like to believe* iamnothere and boring My reader/s amy new woman, get lost, 10/10, well done, yr Mind has coupled and our children A, imagine that,
June 24, 2008 at 6:03 pm
Des, are you familiar with the phrase, ‘less is more’ ? Quantity is not the same thing as quality, for fuck’s sake…
June 24, 2008 at 6:24 pm
Thanks Ms.Human for mighty verses, can’t grasp so many local references, just a few at a time!
freep and cs,
so we’re experts at trees, botany and birds let’s hope.
Are there black starlings? I couldn’t care less about scientists’ explanations on birds, for instance, There was this really insane theory about their songs being mainly aggressive and territorial. Who would want to know that?
Here a few more beautiful little things growing and flying across my back garden:
Populus trémula (Catkins of Aspen)
Magpie Moth (no latin for this one)
Vanessa Urticae (Small tortoiseshell)
Rosa Canina (dog rose)
Sylvia Troglodytes (Wren)
Hedge Sparrow (Accentor modulares)
and of course the bamble bee: Bombus Terrestris!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
June 24, 2008 at 6:41 pm
…oh, for fuck’s sake, the songs of birds ARE aggressive and territorial..what did you think they were, you idiot? Auditions for Las Vegas?
I give up…it’s like trying to explain compound interest to Pongo.
June 24, 2008 at 8:19 pm
Don´t lose your manners, mishari
You said, and i disagree,
(following my advice to remember Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Following my “perhaps is not Science to blame but scientists for so many holocausts)
“tbos-That was politicians, not scientists. Get a grip. Consider this: the reason you are not going to die of some simple bacterial illness, the reason that you can be saved by surgery, the reason you have electricity in your house, the reason you are able to voice your opinions on the internet- guess what? That’s all thanks to scientists, not the feckin Maharishi or Meher Baba…time to wake up and smell the coffee.”
And i repeat, and defy your Pongos and compound interests, that St. Francis of Assissi understood birds and other creatures far better than any scientist of his time and later.
And furthermore, your attacks on religion could be answered back in the same way. Why religions when it´s individual priests who were to blame?
I am not alone in viewing Science as the modern Goddess and scientists as its priests. A cutting edge technology bought and sold to the best bidders. And used to kill the human. That you carefully omit.
June 24, 2008 at 8:22 pm
Do you read the press? Do you inhabit this country? Take a grip yourself, mate.
June 24, 2008 at 8:24 pm
Thanks for thinking of my tooth. There are no NHS dentists on the IOW, so 60% of the population never sees one. I spent ten years in sporadic arguing with the DOH over this, and finally gave up 5 years ago. I had hopes in 1997, but in this as in so many other things New Lab have been a disappointment. You can’t blame the dentists – the NHS payments barely cover costs. My dentist charges £400 for a root canal and £350 for a crown (hence £750). If NHS was half that a lot of people on the IOW still couldn’t afford it.
Anyway, I’ve gone for extraction since there’s a good chance root canal won’t work. Added bonus is that the dentist doesn’t fancy it – apparently my molars are 50% longer than average (it’s directly related to penis size, apparently). Really looking forward to him shoving his hairy arms down my throat.
June 24, 2008 at 8:59 pm
“…apparently my molars are 50% longer than average (it’s directly related to penis size, apparently).”
Let’s hope he doesn’t insist on proof….or confuse the area of operation….
Anyway, I’m sure it’ll be fine, even if he doesn’t shave his arms prior: my current dentist (who advertises himself as “The Gentle Dentist” – well, what else?) has quashed my earlier and longstanding fear….a few years back Michele voluntarily had him remove some wisdom teeth under local and promptly drove home afterwards….
June 24, 2008 at 9:20 pm
Sorry, ropeofsand, but one of the things a long life has taught me is that the inadequate always fear that which can actually be measured. It’s as though they need a Get Out of Jail Free card;
‘ Oh, hey, it’s a spiritual thing, maaaaan, it’s my karma, maaaan, it’s, like, vibes, maaaan…’. bollocks. You know Ambrose Bierce’s definition of an atheist ?
A man with no invisible means of support.
You want to jive your life away to indefinable mumbo-jumbo, be my guest, but don’t expect me to have any respect for the fairies at the bottom of your garden, maaaaan…
Jesus, mowbray, does this mean that extracting your molars will leave you penis-less? Ah, what the hell, you never use the damn thing anyway.
June 24, 2008 at 10:08 pm
mishari,
like you, i find this entirely ludicrous, if we both take “Science” at its etymological sense, that is, knowledge. Knowledge i respect, but not limited to the mensurable or measurable… in that we may disagree.
What is at the bottom of my garden, not fairies, unfortunately: i named birds and plants, you may be deliberately distorting my words together with my thoughts.
June 24, 2008 at 10:13 pm
Melton,:¿
good you went for extraction. A next of kin had her teeth replaced by a most expensive new implant surgery; a few months ago they needed to be re implanted, she became weak due to not eating and caught a bloody pneumonia that almost killed her.
As for a relation between size of molars was it, and penis, really can´t comment.
June 24, 2008 at 10:44 pm
No comment required, ropeofsand. Spain play Russia on Thursday evening, btw. I’ll be wearing the red and gold.
June 24, 2008 at 10:49 pm
FWIW I’ll be mildly cheering on Russia & Turkey – but purely on footballing grounds; I’m not keen on the politics of either country….
June 24, 2008 at 11:43 pm
Highly amused, and flattered (not to mention impressed by the delayed efficacy) that someone has arrived here via a link I posted (almost certainly my first plug, and with shaking hands) on PotW18, late in November last year – Welcome! Having not plugged for months, regular readers should be warned that I’m contemplating a new bout of shamelessness….even though almost everything I read on that PotW (and earlier ones) seems to have been written by a different cs….oh well….
June 24, 2008 at 11:47 pm
Spain have to be the classiest and best-looking (barring Puyol) team. Any side with Fabregas in it has to be worth a look, footballwise. Russia-meh. Turkey-bleh. Germany you have to respect, and they have the most mellifluosly-named player in Bastian Schweinstiger. Crazy name, crazy guy.
June 25, 2008 at 12:22 am
Is that Bastard Pigsticker in English?
June 25, 2008 at 12:40 am
Melton,
If you ever get a chance visit Dr. Fang in Vanuatu.
Or alternately you could always try the Australian trained Asian dentist who fills false teeth.
(For medical treatment though even jokingly, I don’t recommend ‘Dr. Death’; find out from your search engine – see ‘Dr. Death – Bundaberg Qld.’)
btw ropeofsand, I barrack for Australia in tennis but when we’ve exhausted our last ‘hope’, I’m with Spain, phoning a connection there, to join in the excitement.
June 25, 2008 at 12:47 am
I used to enjoy German football when we lived there in the mid 1980s – I remember especially a superannuated but popular striker at Bremen, Manfred Burgsmueller, who had an interesting contretemps with a linesman, infamously calling him something not dissimilar to “du kleine scheisse in die hosele” (the bad German is mine)….wiki tells me that he continued his career in American football – gridiron, not soccer – well into his fifties….funny how these little scraps from our youth can give so much pleasure when followed up online: who hasn’t googled a youthful memory and followed the trail….?
June 25, 2008 at 1:12 am
Ha! Just been a-lurking on the G sports blogs and I have to agree with Billy (whom I’ve previously spotted moonlighting there on footy, cricket & rugby – and, for all I know (I don’t read every blog there) netball, horse-racing and marbles) – that twenty/20 cricket is shite….it’s just silly TV stuff, rather than the real mental battle which is test cricket: that TV is unwilling to capture real cricket is TV’s (and our) loss, not cricket’s fault….one day (50 over) cricket is the doggerel to test cricket’s poetry; twenty/20 is the pale Hallmark imitation of both….
June 25, 2008 at 7:29 am
‘wiki tells me that he continued his career in American football – gridiron, not soccer – well into his fifties….’
‘Spain have to be the classiest and best-looking (barring Puyol) team. Any side with Fabregas in it has to be worth a look, footballwise. Russia-meh. Turkey-bleh. Germany you have to respect, . . .’
Pray do go on, dgg and M2, I’m all eyes . . . riveting stuff . . .
Mowbray, would you please give us an update on the state of your fang? . . . And this is indeed a stone-the-crows name: Bastian Schweinstiger. Perhaps dgg will write some sports doggerel for his next blog, and put BS at its centre.
June 25, 2008 at 7:55 am
Yes, cs, 20/20 is pap for the TV generation.
June 25, 2008 at 2:28 pm
Sports doggerel? I’ve never been tempted to write any….odd bits get posted on the sports blogs from time to time but it’s pretty dreadful stuff in the main – with an honourable exception in HenryLloydMoon whose haikus are often delightful….
Nor am I keen on sports poetry – not that I’m sure there is much, apart from the wistful elegiac cricket stuff….my favourite piece of cricket writing (and that of many others) is the famous chapter in “England, Their England”….which I’ve just retrieved with the intention of quoting; but really you should read the chapter (and book) in full….I’m still chuckling having read a few short extracts….
Dunno why sports and poetry don’t mix for me: no doubt others will disagree – and for all I know Billy will dig out a whole blog’s worth….
June 25, 2008 at 2:43 pm
Miss Joan Hunter Dunn seems good for the week that’s in it.
Glad I’m not the only HenryLloydMoon fan around.
June 26, 2008 at 12:23 am
The inevitability of Germany.
June 26, 2008 at 8:14 am
Well, MM, my prediction was half right. I’m cheering for Russia tonight but expect the Germans to win the final.
June 26, 2008 at 12:49 pm
It’s been a surprisingly good tournament to watch – I’d become pretty jaded with football, but have hardly missed a game yet….several shooting star teams who have flourished for a couple of games, been acclaimed as worthy champions, yet ultimately fall….remember, before the tournament kicked off, the bookies had Germany as favourites, so we shouldn’t be too surprised that they’re finalists….
June 26, 2008 at 12:56 pm
Yes, a good tournament all round, much better than the EPL or CL, and I’m certainly not surprised that Germany are in the final.
And then there’s England/NZ in the ODIs (what about that run out yesterday!), to be followed by the Saffers. An all-round good summer to make up for the fact that I feel obliged to boycott the Olympics this year.
June 26, 2008 at 1:09 pm
I haven’t seen the infamous run out….shall miss watching the Tests against SA live – highlights just ain’t the same, but I’ve no intention of paying Murdoch a penny….so it’s a long wait till the next proper TV sporting fix: 6N 2009….
June 26, 2008 at 1:25 pm
Spain have to be the classiest and best-looking (barring Puyol) team. Any side with Fabregas in it has to be worth a look, footballwise. Russia-meh. Turkey-bleh. Germany you have to respect, and they have the most mellifluosly-named player in Bastian Schweinstiger. Crazy name, crazy guy.
Well then i will watch the match, who Fabregas and Puyol are will be solved, like almost any puzzles along life and tears, our sojourn on earth a valley of tears, remember… and the older we get, the stronger a salmon-like instinct to return to one’s roots, after a long unrooting life,
the presence, the invisible presence created by our words and our thoughts,
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
Cheer up, mishari,
Birds’ songs
Augusta Weber says:
“Birds sing “I love you, love” the whole day through,/And not another song can they sing right;”
Mishari’s birds sing:
“I’ll kill you if you trespass! I’ll kill you if you tresspass! I’ll fuc**** kill you!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@Augusta Weber. Posthumous sonnets. from sonnet xxxiii
June 26, 2008 at 1:31 pm
i meant mishari’s theoretically territorial, aggressive birds!
June 26, 2008 at 1:56 pm
CS: I’m afraid I couldn’t do without Tests on the telly
But yes, roll on the 6N.
rope, it all depends. Will Fabregas start, do you think?
June 26, 2008 at 2:22 pm
doggerel, this is inspired by your piece, specifically ”
Free verse, says this lady, must be written in the nude.”
and promise no more until tomorrow
Note: “She is a totally fictitious character, not liable for any resemblance to real c. ”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Warming up, flex-up muscles, etc.
Do it facing a doggerel’s poster on wall
an anatomy illustration of bicepts, triceps, blades and tender tendons in-
between tissues= tears=
Blue velvet she never wore
though it might have been her colour,
and never wrote for the public eye,
her nakedness reserved to bathroom mirrors.
Yet her pupils were requested to do so,
to their chagrin, o wretches those
who loved her well and those who didn’t,
a bloody struggle, poetry prostitutes rivaling
for a praise
from her, in tears grown,
but what a vigour!, tender tissues,
velvet blue she never wore.
(…)
June 26, 2008 at 2:39 pm
Hey, ropeofsand, I liked that. Saucy, I call it, if that can be a correct critical term.
June 26, 2008 at 2:54 pm
Neat piece, ropeofsand….it’s fun when a line in one piece leads to a completely new poem….
June 26, 2008 at 2:57 pm
Thanks freep,
this is the second and last for today.
~~~~~~~
Professor G
And him? As humble as a cheese,
as human as a pig,
but not too fond of such gifts=
“I would rather return as a cabbage”
he said
the Vice -Chancellor at Poetasters’ Polytechnic
where so much bad verse was built
for corporation sponsors Mr. D and
Mr. H (both female cats) in heat
now and then, as seasons pass
to distinguish wheat from chaff.
#####
June 26, 2008 at 3:29 pm
Another “I read Finnegans Wake when I was one and it did me no harm” blog on the GU. Where’s fmk when you need him?
June 26, 2008 at 3:44 pm
Aye, Bill, that’s three in a fortnight. Is there any more to say? Where’s Lord Macaulay when you need him? Reportedly, at the age of four, he had never uttered a word. And when his father confronted him about his backwardness in the nursery one day, he said: ‘I have not yet spoken because I have so far heard little that merits discussion, father.’
June 26, 2008 at 3:48 pm
fmk has turned up, thank goodness. And I’ve placed my own tongue in cheek comment there.
That story about Macaulay: I thought it was Einstein?
June 26, 2008 at 3:54 pm
Billy – I haven’t actually read the article yet. I think my head might explode if I do.
June 26, 2008 at 4:18 pm
Bill: Macaulay / Einstein / J.S.Mill. Probably all nonsense. But could be better fun inventing the first words of the learned / famous rather than famous last words. Whose first words, aet 5, might have been: ‘Mama, I’m confused; is “rosy-fingered dawn” different from Dawn fingered Rosie?’
June 26, 2008 at 4:19 pm
These articles seem to me to actually represent a desire to unleash a completely free market in books on children. There is no acceptance that adults, especially parents, have a duty of care. Oh no, that’s censorship. Worse still, it might be bad for sales. Idiots!
June 26, 2008 at 4:19 pm
BTW Billy, the first book I gave my lil brother’s eldest daughter was a Chomsky, a few months after she was born (it was a joke – he’s saving it for her for when she’s older). But she did once read a Chomsky I was reading. We were stuck in Sharm el Sheik airport for three or four hours and she leaned over and started reading along even telling me I couldn’t change the page until she’d finished. I loved the look on the faces of other passengers. When I asked her to tell me what she’d read she told me this story about princesses and unicorns. I only wish that *was* what Chomsky wrote about.
I was over with my mother yesterday. She has four books to send down to my brother for his kids. All bought online. One is from an American publisher, another is from an Australian publisher, the other two are UK. The American and Australian have age-guidance on them. The Australian one has it prominently on the front cover.
June 26, 2008 at 4:26 pm
Ha! Famous first words….I like it….
“Mama! It is a far better do-do that I have done, than I have ever done….”
Sorry….*blush*….lowered the tone there somewhat….
June 26, 2008 at 5:37 pm
freep: Nigel Nicholson?
Why the support for Russia? Who wouldn’t prefer those sun-kissed Mediterranean hunks (barring Puyol) to the pallid acne-scarred potato-guzzling Stakhanovite sons of the Bear?
June 26, 2008 at 6:49 pm
MM: NN a good guess. I was trying to think of a precocious literary upper class lesbian, but I can’t.
I’m backing acne tonight. But it’s academic. Germany has always enjoyed good backing in Vienna; my Austrian mother-in-law still recalls the arrival of the Fuehrer with affection.
June 26, 2008 at 10:57 pm
Boy is the Telegraph book blog making the Guardian look good: their latest attempt at entertainment is to repeat a blog from three weeks ago – together with the original comments; simultaneously the most recent blog has vanished (not on the main page; only initiates may know the location….but believe me it’s gone)….meanwhile, no original material has been seen there for a fortnight or so….it’s all very amusing, but frankly they won’t remain bookmarked much longer….
June 26, 2008 at 11:04 pm
Nos encontramos en nuestro camino a Viena! In your face, Russophiles! The genius of Fabregas was never more evident. Frog-faced racist Aragones will have to start him now.
June 26, 2008 at 11:45 pm
It has been quite an education but not one that I wanted. Angela is in charge now and said that we must leave you to your world.
June 27, 2008 at 12:02 am
Is cricket popular in Ireland, BM?
June 27, 2008 at 12:14 am
As a supplementary: I was strongly tempted this afternoon to ask why Billy, as an Irishman, follows the “England” cricket team (albeit they feel free to coopt any decent Welsh, Irish and Scottish players that emerge)….which wouldn’t have been intended as a political question; it’s just that so many from W, I & S support ABE in the footy and rugger; and I wondered whether (or why) cricket was somehow different?
June 27, 2008 at 12:24 am
It’s not unpopular Melton but not really popular in terms of mass participation / spectating.
The Irish team did do well at the last World Cup (well, they did better than expected), which raised the profile of the sport considerably, but they haven’t done too much since then. Maybe the World Cup will prove to have been like beating the Windies all those years ago. Something that’s remembered fondly by some.
June 27, 2008 at 12:34 am
Steve: I’m afraid I’m still pretty much ABE when it comes to English national squads losing. It’s the crazy unbalanced reporting of English squads drives me crazy.
I mean, I should be cheering on cycling’s Team GB come the Olympics given what they’ve achieved and how they’ve singled-mindedly gone out there uses all their lottery money to buy national pride through bangles and baubles. You’ve kinda gotta admire that. But I won’t be cheering them on. There’s something about the coverage of the riders that gets me – how Cav is suddenly the fastest sprinter in the world and all that crap. There’s no balance in the coverage. No perspective. It’s just jingoistic crap.
June 27, 2008 at 1:18 am
fmk – the jingoistic crap puts me off too; I find it impossible to support England at footy (I cheered when Croatia knocked “us” out of the Euros.) I still have a soft spot for the rugger & cricket teams; although that’s dissipating – almost the final straw for me with the cricket was the recent contretemps over whether Vaughn & the other Test specialists should share in the dosh from the big money 20/20 game in the WIndies (which they haven’t yet even won….)
The older I get, the more cynical I become over sport (and not just sport): I’m “English” as far back as anyone has measured; but find it increasingly difficult to support any team or individual *just* because they’re also “English”….
The following isn’t all that relevant, but: years ago, when I was interviewed for a job in Germany, I was put up at a small hotel. Drinking a beer afterwards in their bar, I was asked to make space by several middle-aged Germans. They very quickly sussed I was English (no kidding) and it turned out several of them had been POWs in Britain – and nevertheless (or as a result?) were extremely friendly. That was an eye-opener for me as a youngster, and was probably the end of jingoism for me (which is not to say I didn’t meet any Anglophobes: I did, although most were much younger.)
June 27, 2008 at 2:33 am
I don’t care too much about sport Steve. I mean I don’t cry when someone loses, even when it’s someone I’d like to see winning. The Irish games – bog ball and stick ball – do nothing for me but then there’s no culchie blood in me. Soccer, I’m a surrogate MU fan and follow what’s happening in Sunderland (I like Keano, I like his attitude). But unlike my lil bro (the real MU fan) it doesn’t ruin my weekend when MU (or Sunderland) lose. And no amount of Irish losses can ruin a weekend for me, even Italy whipping Ireland’s arse in rugby isn’t gonna piss on my parade.
The only sport I’ve ever cared about has been cycling, and that’s because it was the sport I chose to do myself (I take some interest in a lot of other sports cause they help me rationalise problems I have with cycling). But I never get caught up in the hype about Irish riders (we’ve three good potentials on the continent at the moment and it’d be nice to see one of em coming through but I know it’s unlikely and it’ll drive me nuts when the media over here realise how good they are and start blowing it out of all proportion).
I do think in Ireland we have a different attitude to winning, compared to England. We don’t *expect* to win everything all the time. That’s what gets me about English national squads – too many people seem to think they have a God-given right to win, all the time. All sense of perspective seems to go out the window. It happens over here too, we’re not immune to it. But there’s always room over here for the kid who’ll point out that the emperor is naked. I don’t see that often enough in the English media. It’s all England expects.
Sometimes though, irrational as it is, you want your national squad to win. I remember one Ireland-England rugby game in the 80s, I was studying for some exam or other and had it on the radio as wallpaper and heard Ciaran Fitzgerald screaming the team on with “Where’s your fucking pride” and yes, it gave me tingles down my spine and a lump in my throat and made me turn up the radio and listen to the end of the game. I think we lost the match but we’d lost with honour. We’d lost trying. I don’t think English teams are allowed honourable defeats.
I think I’m kinda with MacNeice on the national pride thing: “Pride in your history / Is pride in living what your fathers died, / Is pride in taking your own pulse / And counting in you someone else.”
June 27, 2008 at 3:01 am
Your Germany story: how much of that surprise is down to growing up with the whole anti-German vibe you’ve got going on in England? I mean all that harking back to WWII crap. A WW book is almost guaranteed an appearance on the Booker long list. The British comix I read as a kid all had war stories in them. There’s all those war films that get rolled out regularly. You’re kinda groomed to believe all Germans are evil-hearted Nazi bastards who hog all the pool-side loungers first thing in the morning.
Being Irish abroad, you learn very quickly to stress that you are Irish, not English (I suppose it’s like Canadians stressing they’re not American). They hear you speaking English, they think you’re English, so you have to stress that no, you’re Irish. It’s amazing the attitude change that brings. (It can be pretty boring sometimes – in Egypt all they seem to know about Ireland is the Michael Collins film.)
I was in France one time to watch Paris-Roubaix. We’ve found a café in the morning with a telly, so we’d be able to watch the end of the race on it, and went back there after the race had passed us on the pavé section we’d picked to watch it whizz past on. I was with an English friend that trip. We’d ordered in French but were speaking English to one and other. The patron said something about us being English when the coffee landed with a bit of a thump on the table. I pointed out I was Irish. Immediate attitude change. It was pull up a chair and talk about cycling and how good Kelly and Roche had been.
June 27, 2008 at 3:16 am
In my student days, I remember everyone in my (very English) college cheering on Olly Campbell’s Ireland (even against England), simply because they were seen as the more deserving team: allegiances are strange and fickle things. I can enjoy English victories (such as the 2005 Ashes series) without getting too upset when they fail to materialise (I gather we did rather less well in the return series….)
I read somewhere that sperm counts rise and fall in fans in sympathy with the results of their respective sporting teams; ye gods….on that basis it’s a wonder that there are any English left….
June 27, 2008 at 7:29 am
Isn’t Beckett the only Nobel Laureate for Literature to appear in Wisden? I was under the impression that cricket used to be popular amongst the Ascendancy Irish. Doubtless, Billy or fmk will correct me…
June 27, 2008 at 7:53 am
Cricket is not popular in Ireland, except amongst those who attended the “best” schools, of which I am not one. It has been popular in my family for at least 3 generations, however. I learnt to love the game from my father.
As for the England team; I’m really w Windies supporter, but I like to wathc England because they are so unpredictable, and because my childhood cricketing heroes were Underwood, Knott and co. Generally, I’m an ABE for much the same reasons as fmk.
June 27, 2008 at 8:33 am
Oh, and Basil D’Oliveira and John Snow. I wanted to be John Snow.
June 27, 2008 at 9:25 am
I, for one, will always be grateful to Kerry Packer for introducing Day-Glo childrens pyjamas to cricket. So much more soothing to the eye…
June 27, 2008 at 9:37 am
mishari, the children can now pick their own pyjamas; isn’t progress wonderful.
June 27, 2008 at 9:59 am
BTW, Steve, I linked to another pro-warm poem for you on the GU blog; as the blog will close today and you probably won’t look, I thought I’d point it out here.
June 27, 2008 at 10:30 am
Hmm, another Guardian blog on writer’s speed, eh? Should I make the same comment about writer’s laziness?
I am a devoutly anti-English Englishman. Nothing pleases me more than to see English’s inevitable failure. (My only real concern in life is that they might one day win something. Come on Murray!!!) – Friends like to think this is just my contrary nature; but the truth is my parents are Welsh, and my formative years were spent watching my father screaming at the television set in the 1970s whenever the Welsh rubgy team played. Needless to say, I’m npw far more anti-English than my father ever was.
June 27, 2008 at 10:32 am
obooki; if the bloggers are recycling, why chouldn’t the commenters?
June 27, 2008 at 10:42 am
Mish: It was popular in garrison towns, where the army was, back in the c19th. Then we resurrected bog ball and stick ball and banned foreign games. There was a time when you weren’t allowed play foreign games and the Irish ones. Even soccer was frowned upon by many, until Jack Charlton brought some glory to the national squad. After the World Cup, even some GAA-heads managed to say nice things about the cricket team.
I like going into the grounds of Trinity of a summer’s Friday evening with friends, getting a pint in the Pavilion and sitting out on the grass half-watching whatever game is going on there. It’s pleasant and relaxing. Apart from they, the Ashes are the only cricket I really pay any attention to.
June 27, 2008 at 11:06 am
“There was a time when you weren’t allowed play foreign games and the Irish ones.”
But within a couple of miles of where I grew up I had a choice of watching Phoenix or Belvedere play their home games (that’s Belvedere College, the Jesuit school). My grandfather used to bring my father to watch Phoenix in the 30s and 40s. And just across the road from their ground, I used to go to watch polo being played. It’s always been like this; as ever, reality and the “official” version suffer a mismatch.
Oh, and the strongest cricketing areas of Ireland in the 18th and 19th centuries outside of Dublin are now amongst the strongest hurling areas.
June 27, 2008 at 11:08 am
Links:
http://www.phoenixcricketclub.com/
http://www.belvederecollege.ie/Belvedere%20Union.htm#OldBelvedereCricketClub
http://www.allirelandpoloclub.com/
June 27, 2008 at 11:14 am
I used to like watching the Bicycle Polo in the Phoenix Park. A sport that actually generated an Olympic victory for us.
June 27, 2008 at 11:26 am
OMG! Big Bird’s dead! http://www.guardian.co.uk/media/2008/jun/27/television1
June 27, 2008 at 11:45 am
A sad day.
June 27, 2008 at 12:05 pm
Steve: As a renowned doggerist, I’m sure you must have something to say on “why publishing has gone to the dogs.”
June 27, 2008 at 12:42 pm
hmm, a cross between eaton ellis and welbeck? – i’ll be straight out to the shops buying it then.
June 27, 2008 at 1:17 pm
Oh well, if it’s just like Wellbeck, then that’s me sold too.
June 27, 2008 at 1:42 pm
Y viva Espana! Three to zero, but the inevitability of Germany… Fabregas, quite cute. The way they kept the ball for themselves! Selfish, o so selfish…!
But some of the Spanish fans looked … ahem… a bit pathetic, with their Monarchist flags bearing a black bull, like a cheap tourist ad. Republican flags are never shown at the Olympics.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“hurling” ?
“I was trying to think of a precocious literary upper class lesbian, but I can’t.”
I can’t either, though literary upper class lesbians i can think of many, Spanish, Turkish, etc.
Doggerel, your comments on cricket have given me another saucy idea for next poem, another blend of cultures.
June 27, 2008 at 1:48 pm
Only just logged in – Billy put up some links earlier to sporting matters which got caught in the machinery – they’re at #122 now.
Will check out the pro-war link next….the next doggerel post will mention GU btw – but I’ll probably wait till Sunday evening to post it (visits here drop considerably at the w/e.)
June 27, 2008 at 1:50 pm
“The way they kept the ball for themselves! Selfish, o so selfish…!”
I’ve never seen it put that way before….but it’s true….
June 27, 2008 at 4:21 pm
I’m very pleased, btw, to see that the PotW experiment of poet in residence on the thread has been repeated – and successfully, IMHO….although it wasn’t my kind of poetry it’s been interesting to read Amy Newman’s good-humoured comments….
June 27, 2008 at 6:10 pm
The people of San Francisco, bless them, look set to name the city’s main sewage processing plant after George W. Bush. Some people, however, objected, citing the fact that a sewage plant performs a valuable social service…unlike Shrub.
June 27, 2008 at 6:21 pm
He’s not an easy man to satirise, funnily enough: the reality of him is so awful….it still seems like a bad joke that a man so thick, so inept, could get so many votes….
June 27, 2008 at 7:48 pm
on the subject of Bush + the slippery slope to dictatorship /according to Ian and to the post democratic state /according to an anonymous poster on his blog, it’s worth quoting and makes your hair stand on end:
Britain is becomong a post-democratic state, with the trappings of democracy but without its substance.
The post-democratic state does not fit the pattern of the traditional fascist, communist or military dictatorship, although it could be characterised as a kind of neo-fascism in the sense that its impetus is corporatism: the penetration of the state by the personnel, methods and priorities of corporate big business; and the colonisation of every aspect of civil society by a state agenda.
Post-democracies are unlike Orwell’s dystopia, because they have a seemingly vital, constant public political debate, but the parameters of
the debate are set by the state and the media.
Not only do we have the invasion of the public sphere by spectacle, but politics itself is a
spectacle, one in which citizens have no real power. Instead they are presented with “choices” from a menu every dish of which is cooked up by the corporate ruling class.
Another key aspect of post-democracy is constant violence, either directly practiced or indirectly instigated, mainly against non-citizens
(usually abroad) but if necessary against citizens too. The violence is increasingly an integral part of the economics of the post-democratic state, which relies on a permanent state of war or near war, both for psychological reasons but also to boost its colossal arms industry (the post-democratic economy runs on oil, weapons and drugs, of both the legal and the illegal kind).
The best example of the post-democratic state is the USA, whose structures are of course deeply entwined with those of the UK state and
economy. However, the US citizen does have guaranteed constitutional rights to appeal to. The UK subject has the Human Rights Act but the next Conservative government will likely repeal it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To put it bluntly, how can poetry influence persons who find themselves on this slippery slope? my own answer is that there must be ways.
But why should i care?
June 27, 2008 at 10:40 pm
Australian treasury secretary under fire for wombat mission
* Barbara McMahon in Sydney
* guardian.co.uk,
* Friday June 27, 2008
* Article history
With inflation at a 16-year high, rising interest rates and fuel prices, opposition politicians in Australia have questioned whether the Treasury secretary, Ken Henry, should be allowed to take five weeks’ holiday to look after endangered wombats.
June 27, 2008 at 11:05 pm
Hurling is an Irish sport, ropeofsand, played with sticks and a ball.
So, acrostics. I’m a native of Cirencester and remember the acrostic BM mentions from the yearly trudge to the Corinium Museum at primary school. At that time it was a gloomy old place with ancient retainers apparently left over from the Roman Empire ready to belt you if you even looked like touching their manky exhibits. I revisited a few years ago with my kids and the place had been transformed. A replica of the acrostic also hung in one of the town’s abundance of pubs, where drunken hoorays could often be seen puzzling over it.
June 28, 2008 at 1:23 am
When we briefly discussed reference books a week or so ago, no-one mentioned rhyming dictionaries. I’ll admit to using rhymezone online, but only as an adjunct to an alphabetic run-through, as it’s pretty eccentric, to say the least, and far from complete (my favourite rhymezone cockup (if that’s an appropriate phrase for what follows) was when I entered “boris” (I could have phrased that better….) and it suggested “clitoris”….)
So: can anyone recommend from personal experience a good rhyming dictionary, either real or virtual?
June 28, 2008 at 11:01 am
doggerel,
cockups with rhyming: the same happens to me more often than not
June 28, 2008 at 12:13 pm
Francis (or Frances-can’t remember which) Stillman did a good rhyming dic which I used to borrow from someone. Must be long out of print, but you might find one online.
I didn’t think you were likely to be a monarchist, ropeofsand. I see most of the Spanish team are Catalonian (including the great Fabregas) or Andalusian. I wonder if they are also republican at heart? Anyway, good luck for Sunday night!
June 28, 2008 at 12:36 pm
Just checked and they have it on Amazon. It’s called ‘The Poet’s Manual and Rhyming Dictionary’.
June 28, 2008 at 3:03 pm
Thanks for that info, MM – I’ll check out that book.
June 28, 2008 at 4:34 pm
Steve, here’s a good software rhyming Dictionary. Used to retail for $150.00, now free. Very useful when one’s stuck. Download it here:
http://www.bryantmcgill.com/Free_Rhyming_Dictionary/
June 28, 2008 at 5:28 pm
I’ll check that one out too – thanks Mishari.
June 28, 2008 at 6:15 pm
They might well be Republicans, Catalonian players, just reading a most intriguing paragraph on Sunday match.
BERLIN/MADRID, June 28 (Reuters) – Life in Germany and Spain is expected to come to a virtual standstill on Sunday when most of the combined population of 128 million in the two countries turn their attention to the Euro 2008 final.
(Here comes the intriguing bit) Perhaps an exaggeration,
“Sunday evening will be pure stress for the public water works in both countries as they brace for those famous surges of flushing right after the halftime and final whistles.”
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Thanks mishari and MM, for the rhyming ref. and links.
June 28, 2008 at 8:33 pm
Surges of flushing and filling the kettle too. And then bringing the electricity grid to its knees as everyone boils the kettle at the same time. I’ve long wondered whether Al Qaida should try a scheme like that to bring a country to its knees. Tell all they’re followers to turn all the taps on and boil all their kettle at the same time.
June 28, 2008 at 10:22 pm
My guess is, the Doctor will defeat Davros by getting everyone on Earth to flush’n'boil at the same time, thereby reversing the polarity of the neutron flow….
June 28, 2008 at 11:25 pm
Just so long as it isn’t another dose of twats chanting “Doctor! Doctor!” like they were in a Thompson Twins song and I won’t mind what Rusty’s done to get him out of this one. I hope.
June 29, 2008 at 12:32 am
Oh God. It was only downloading when I typed that comment. Now I’ve watched it. The phone call. Worse than the Thompson Twins. Oh Rusty, what is with with your Christ complex?
June 29, 2008 at 12:53 am
Apart from the phone-call pastiche of last season’s finale, and the three-mile run he & Rose undertook to cross the 100m which initially separated them, I enjoyed it….who’d have thought Daleks played 3d interplanetary snooker….?
June 29, 2008 at 12:59 am
….even the giggly stoned octopus was cute….
June 29, 2008 at 6:04 am
Apropos of nothing, I watched In Bruges yesterday. I highly recommend it. Terrific performances from Brendan Gleeson, Colin Farrell and Ralph Fiennes, Great script and direction by Martin McDonagh..a very satisfying film.
June 29, 2008 at 1:44 pm
I’ve never heard of it. Working my way through The Wire on DVD at the mo, which is pretty good. Interspersed with Modern Toss, which I bought for my kid but thought I’d pre-watch. He’ll never know. Love that Drive-By Abuser.
June 29, 2008 at 1:47 pm
Writin’ a comment? Fuckin’ looks like it an’ all! See you later, yeah?
June 29, 2008 at 2:51 pm
I’d say The Wire was better than pretty good. Get a hold of In Bruge. Download it here:
http://thepiratebay.org/tor/4232526/In_Bruges%5B2008%5DDvDrip_aXXo
I suspect it’s very much your cup of tea. Darkly comic.
June 29, 2008 at 3:52 pm
Jeez….now even the good guys are writing spam comments….”Apropos of nothing…I highly recommend it” ; “Writin’ a comment? Fuckin’ looks like it an’ all!” ; “Download it here…”
Mind you, I ought to change my name to “naivesteve”….some jerk left a comment here which the spambat intercepted; it looked like it went to a proper site where a piece from here was referenced in a relevant way & had none of the usual hallmarks of a “scraping” site….curiosity triumphed over sense….anyway, getting back from that site was a nightmare & I had to waste an hour running spybot….the only other time I’ve been scraped, a line from here was curiously juxtaposed with a line from one of Billy’s blogs (that site – a blogspot blog – had already been taken down, fortunately)….but scraping is quite a problem for bloggers….it’s infuriating to find your words being used nefariously & there’s little one can do about it….
June 29, 2008 at 5:12 pm
Sorry, cs. The Arabian Prince started it.
June 29, 2008 at 5:35 pm
Nothing to be sorry for….I was only taking the piss….if you could see all the spam comments that *try* to get posted here, you’d know just how similar Mishari’s #155 was to the real thing….of course, he *could* be a very patient grooming spammer….
June 29, 2008 at 9:13 pm
I was just being neighbourly. By the way, got a cup of sugar? Mind you, the Gruaniad blogs used to get them all the time..’the best media player! Download it here!’ sort of thing.
I suppose you’re paying the price for popularity,cs. Sort of a compliment, in a way…albeit unwelcome.
Go Spain!
June 29, 2008 at 9:40 pm
Spain won!
June 29, 2008 at 9:47 pm
They did play good game, didn’t they, the Spaniards, while the Giant Germans were like sort of playing the trolls, with lots of blood being received rather than inflicted, weird,
BTW, nobody has yet commented on my acrostic dedicated to Freepoland on BM’s. Hope no offence taken, which sometimes happens if you don’t go around kissing them constantly or calling them princes.
I spotted quite a few “challenging” voices BTW,
Humbly browsing, still, through Ist Canto, about 50% already grasped. more to come
June 29, 2008 at 9:54 pm
The only real surprise was that Spain didn’t score six….I half-expected them to suffer for their profligacy in the last few minutes….it’s difficult to believe that Germany can’t find a better centre back than that bearded statue….
June 29, 2008 at 10:11 pm
Oh and btw: the post I promised for tonight isn’t ready – events conspired against me today and it’s still in the “crap” stage….indeed, most of it needs deleting & a complete rewrite hasn’t been ruled out….
June 29, 2008 at 10:57 pm
ropeofsand: not been at the keyboard for a while, but I am honoured that you have acrosticised me in a verse that contains the wondrous ourobouros, the snake with its tail in its mouth. I don’t need a lot of kissing, but that was very welcome, thanks. Might get round to a fun acrostic tomorrow.
In a remote field in my county, there is a neglected column celebrating some abstract virtue – British Freedom, something of that order – and at its foot,curling around the pediment, is said ourobouros. It was designed by Soane, architect of the Bank of England.
June 29, 2008 at 11:56 pm
“it’s difficult to believe that Germany can’t find a better centre back than that bearded statue….”
the bearded statue, well said, but he attempted to strangle one of the red ones. Did you see it? And quite tall they were (are).
freep,
solace i find in your writing, too, and not a lack of tolerance. ahem. A Minister in Australia was reported to be looking after wombats (find reference, if interested, in the Guardian couple of days ago).
you said, nicely again,
“Much science is poetry unwritten; a walk on the seashore both tells you about the geological record and conjures new life into your lexicon.”
June 30, 2008 at 12:29 am
A great win for Spain. I thought the bearded statue a very civilised chap in the pre-match interview, and anyone who sports the facial fungus is ok by me.
I did spend some time thinking about your poem, ropeofsand. I’m assuming it’s about political prisoners, and this is what connects it to Free Poland. Am I wrong?
I wasn’t really sorry, cs. It was a nice opportunity to bring in the Arabian Prince. I checked out ‘In Bruges’ on Amazon, AP. Looks interesting. I keep getting a picture of Colin Blakely playing a gunman in a play. I can’t remember what it was. Pinter?
June 30, 2008 at 12:49 am
“I wasn’t really sorry, cs.”
Thank goodness for that….
I’m sure Mertesaecker is a very civilised chap, although I don’t tend to watch the fawning build-ups before the games and so didn’t see his interview….rather unusual – and welcome – to see a full natural Brian Blessed beard on the pitch, as opposed to the “Brazilians” some of them sport facially….surely the whole point of having a beard is to avoid shaving, so I’ve never seen the point of the fussy fuzz that one has elaborately to negotiate daily….
June 30, 2008 at 6:19 am
I’m pretty sure Blakely played McCann in The Birthday Party in, I think, the late 80’s, MM.
Pay no mind to the arabian prince stuff. It’s far less impressive once one realizes that Kuwait has about 5000 of the bastards. It’s like having an OBE.
I expect freep will now do some fiendishly complex acrostic that makes the rest of us look puerile.
Bastard…
June 30, 2008 at 9:30 am
You’re right about Blakely, though in my mind the image is in black and white. Earlier version?
I had no idea you really were HRH. How did graceandreachi know? You’re not on google.
June 30, 2008 at 2:10 pm
You just have to know where to ,look, MM. Try:
http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~royalty/kuwait/persons.html
June 30, 2008 at 2:14 pm
Hi Melton, i was thinking of your Germany acrostic, with its battalion-like array of adverbs, beautifully illustrating a military parade.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yes, about my dedicated acrostic, but not specifically political prisoners (i didn’t know). It has to do with a reading of Dante’s Inferno.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
dear mishari,
As light proof that religion & science were not always incompatible, take the Mayans, Aztecs and Incas> accurate astronomers, therefore scientists, coexisting with strong beliefs (or so it is recorded). (Or Islam.)
June 30, 2008 at 2:19 pm
Now i will look up for own related roots, thanks Arabian Prince! :;
June 30, 2008 at 3:42 pm
I thought g andreachi must be having an Omar Sharif moment. How wrong I was. Apologies all round.