So Naughty!

The link below gives a Grauniad headline
Europe's divided leaders grope for summit breakthrough

That's the difference then - the current bun would have had

I feel a right tit whispers horny Iti Monti!

We're doomt I telt ye, doomt!

(For god sake get that man a cup of tea or he'll be wailing all night!...Ed)

Shake Hands.

A Brief and Private Encounter.
A man sits gazing out of a long window as he has many times before. The lawns in front of him are manicured and watered to within an inch of their lives. There is an empty chair set next to his and something suggests that it has been occupied  convivially many times before. The comfort of the chairs, their proximity and relative angle suggests regular use even if the fabric and stuffing do not.

The door to the room opens without the formality of a knock and a small woman heads for the occupant of the chair in a business like manner but without haste. The size of the room gives the man ample time to rise and put on a warm and generally welcoming smile. The woman does not extend her hand but addresses the man in a clipt and slightly tremulous voice.

I suppose I should call you Mr Chuckles. How is Ian by the way?

Big Ian is fine, preparing himself for the final shock when he discovers that Jesus is a Catholic, just like the Pope! I'll call you Brenda rather than Mam, unless you wold prefer the Gaelic?

The twinkle in her eye and the gear change in his smile suggest that ice has been broken.

They shake hands and Mr Chuckles offers a drink. Brenda suggests a Dubonnet with a little stiffner.
She takes the second seat and a large glass is offered. Mr Chuckles pours himself another cup of tea and joins her.
They sit in almost  companionable silence. The man askes her if she has travelled far. She snorts in genuine amusement.

Oh yes Mr Chuckles, I have come a long way!

Concert Parties

Watched the start of the Big Noise concert. Thirsty Work was interviewing the Head? of El Sistema (Scotland);
'El' Sistema, yes we have a lot to thank the Greeks for. There was also a wifey from Raploch with a kid in the band. The 'Head' had  a chin that could cut through 6inch steel obviously on the way up the greasy arts pole in Scotland, maybe I do her a dis-service. The wifey was 4 square solid with an open face and a hesitant air. Not used to speaking out on The Box I'm  sure, but I felt that she was being straight with enthusiasm for the band and the effect on her child. Thirsty did a good job, not patronising, well not too much anyway. Then they played Purcell's Abdelazer. It was a life affirming blast. We were told that kids as young 6 were performing. They weren't just performing they were living and having fun and making music in addition to whatever else they felt. Review here

    As Richard Holloway, chair of Sistema Scotland, acknowledges:
     "This will only mean something if it's peppering the whole country."

Rather, what this means is that a community has been able to come together for a cultural event which their members have taken a worthy and proud part. Who knows but hopefully some may be infected with the bug to do things. Music, community, economic activity and government  for themselves.  Heaven forfend!

Which led me to think about  The Concert by Vermeer. It was stolen - Details of the picture and note of its theft here -

No sign of it since. Was it taken for ransom? No clearly established genuine demands? Was it used by Crims in US for collateral for drug deals? Was it a feather bed, get out of jail card, which has not been used so far. Were the IRA involved? Has it been destroyed? Lots of interesting ideas and hypotheses but very little information.

I have a conceit.  Although the idea of a Flemming Villain wrapped in ecstasy, stroking a cat as he contemplates this work of art has long been debunked, what would you do if you suddenly found your birthday present wrapped in the sodding painting. Claim the insurance or try and flog it down Islington?

What if you stuck it in a chaepo frame, nailed it to the wall above the imitation coal fire and complained loudly to family and friends that the 50 sovs you paid for it down the Old Kent Rd was a diabolical liberty and you can swear that the thing was painted over a copy of the Chinese Girl with the eyes that follow you round the room in strong sunlight which is why you keep the curtains closed!

The Reagan Defense

The Reagan Defense must rank with the Sicilian as giving the guys with the black hats a chance.
Hey! I don't remember!

I've just seen, en passant, Dave at the Levenson. M'Lord Justice's 'wally dug' has been savaging Dave's ankles over what may be described as 'instances of hospitality' involving the Dirty Digger and his evil empire.
Dave has deployed the Reagan Defense to great effect.

Darn't remember yeronner!

One might regard this as a terminological inexactitude if it was not for the episode reported earlier this week of the child that got left behind.

How many is it now Sam, two... three?

(Didn't Tartakower give O'Kelly a run for his money with the Sicilian in '46?...Ed
To be honest I don't remember and besides strong drink may have been taken!)

Portraits of Edingurgh

A recent visit to The Scottish National Portrait Gallery gave me a  a 'queer turn' and no mistake.  There was Peter Higgs looking as if he had been attacked by a Hamiltonian Operator. Nice one Lucinda?!
Hunting the Higgs. A worthy quest? Yes but not the most interesting question. What is that pray? Well my GUT feeling is that the guys working on a path to unite Gravity and Quantum Mechanics are at the theoretical coalface. You can see them can't you. Physicists in white coveralls, hard hats emblazoned with Quantum Mechanic. Tunneling in the theoretical depths of an energy well with diamond tipped wave functions. On the other side a team of Gravititions suited up to protect against Cherenkov radiation, again with hard hats bearing the words 'Gravity doesn't suck!'


For a more erudite and subtle flavour of the question, on the way we pursue progress, in physics at least, see Carlo Rovelli's thoughts

We are very far from the final theory of the world, in my field, in physics, I think extremely far. Every hope of saying, well we are almost there, we've solved all the problems, is nonsense. And we are very wrong when we discard the value of theories like quantum mechanics, general relativity or special relativity, for that matter. And throw them away, trying something else randomly. On the basis of what we know, we should learn something more, and at the same time we should somehow take our vision for what it is, a vision that is the best vision that we have, but then continuous evolving the vision.

All abaat strings and loops init?
(I just knew they would let that fellow in again, and Bloomsday around the corner...Ed)

No Child Left Behind!

So Dave a little careless with your own children. Pity about those of the great unwashed.
I'm sure there will be much merriment at your expense. Thank heavens no child was hurt in the escapade.

Might it be a little cynical to suggest that it was a good example of what a normal millionaire you are and how your multimillionaire wife is not only good lookin', well dressed for every occasion but, duurh, a little forgetful as well.  Close personal protection a bit laid back at the old Dog and Duck? Still, let it be known that you and Sam have made a, tax relieved bung, to the NSPCC, Alzheimers, the Lifeboats or whatever and you could go up in the nations affections!

While we are sitting in judgement I repeat the link to a Mr Cooder who spotted the reluctance to exclude bankers as a class of persons from the trough! Real inclusion:- no banker left behind.

Night all and hey, be careful out there!

Growing Rainbows?

Taken at Lea Gardens

As You Are Now So I Will Be

I find myself using the backs of envelopes (not fag packets), the blank side of paper, letters, advertising, printing in rough and so on. It makes me think of an elderly, fiercely intelligent monk that taught us applied maths more years ago than I care to remember and so many years ago that I can't remember his name. We were a group of three, and sat mesmerized as he worked his way through examples, explanations and problems, detailing each on the inside of an envelope which had been opened carefully to use the blank space. He produced these as if from an endless supply in the pockets of his somewhat threadbare habit. Questions produced but a moments reflection through pebble thick glasses, a few fish like gulps and the solution would be set out on the scrap paper, clearly, logically and with a straightforward commentary.   Given that we were fairly thick and the sessions lasted two hours I think we half expected him to run out. We would have the joy of seeing him tug at his socks to try and find more scrap paper. It may be that we considered handing in homework on such stationery or maybe that is the conceit of a false memory. I do remember his gentle manner, his brogue and the fact that the rest of the community regarded him as, well, completely bats.

Anyway, here is a wee picture of another little treasure.


Early Purple Orchid since you ask!

Julibee

Our Queen is a True British Sailor

Is the Duke of Edinburgh still the highest Peer in the land?

Nuff said!