No Bad for a Friday night In!

As the weather, politics and the hope for humanity deteriorates a quiet 'Friday Night In'  trawling the old interweb looking for inspiration. A tweet  for a gig at Celtic Connections set me off.   I look forward to hearing it. I then stumbled across Duncan Chisholm who has a new CD out titled Sandwood. Duncan's reflections on that magical place are here  There is a U Tube vid here  
(Spot the old man,  Am Buachaille - The Shepherd, at 1.46. )
Then I tripped over a link to Bothy Culture & Beyond  at The SSE Hydro as part of Celtic Connections 2018. A rare bash if this wee U Tubey thing is anything to go by.

(Are you sure you have not been at the Devil's Buttermilk again with all this depression and stumbling and tripping over...Ed?)

Absolutely not, probably just dementia and in any case I cheered myself up by watching Calvary.  My second or third time of watching. Still not clear who killed the dog! Boy that's a laugh a minute.

Are you reading comfortably?

I read The Waters of Eternal Youth by Donna Leon, the 25th outing for Commissario Brunetti of the Venice Police, last year having  heard a radio interview with her. He  is the protagonist of  her tales of Italian/Venetian coppering and is  without any major domestic traumas in his life or problems with the bottle, the drugs, gee gees, or money. His  only addiction seems to be the works of Latin Historians. I've enjoyed them over the years and when the convenor of our reading group brought this along as our Xmas read I thought I would return and refresh my memory. Place, time, food and all the usual suspects - Paula, Elettra, Vianello, Patta and Scarpa, made this a 'comfort' read. Then I caught myself on! A historical rape offence which was never investigated let alone prosecuted. A murder which was committed to escape any justice for the crime of rape which could not be prosecuted because of the statute of limitations. What is the justification of following up such crimes? Indeed this case produced a further crime by way of concealment. The reason we are given in the fiction is advanced by the grandmother of the child that has been raped. The contessa (two of them at least in this novel) wants to know what happened to her grandchild and is anxious to have some sort of closure on the 'crime', before she dies. A fine play on justice, the law and the vagaries of both. Leon, we agreed in the group, tackles ideas and concerns with some subtlety. She raises debates about  the Vu Cumpra and the New Africans; the problems created by tourism; the effects of climate change; the evils of homelessness and the drug economy! However,  the ending is somewhat schmaltzy. If you like the sun going down on a picture of the wronged and brain damaged 30ish  child reconnecting with the horse of her teenage years in a warm embrace. All brought together by an attractive, empathetic, female, Commissario Claudia, an Olympian dressagist of some repute. (who will be up to no good in the future, I'll be bound...Ed!)
If ever you tire of editing this blog perhaps you could consider this advert for roadsweepers, in Venice, it advises applicants to bring their own water wings!

Jesus Charlie and Motherland

I was scanning through a Grauniad article about architecture when I saw a banner with the lettering, Jesus Charlie. Trying to work out the missing punctuation (it was a fluttering banner...) I spotted the fold which had partially obscured the I in je suis.
Still that could be a powerful campaign slogan - Jesus Charlie - punctuation not supplied and bring your own Charlie.
And now for something completely different:-
Motherland! No, not in praise of and apple pie, an earworm which even now can have me jigging round the kitchen leading the mass bands of  "WORLD PEACE & JUSTICE"  It took me some time after the Beeb series of the same name had finished to find this on soundcloud. May it infect your brain, pleasantly, for some time to come.  Nice one Olie Julian One of the comments on the track left me a little perplexed "Reminds me so much of the Hackney Colliery Band." 
Could be open to many interpretations.  

Candlelit

A StormyNight, an Early Start, Breakfast by Candlelight.
Not that exotic really but a nice effect from the secondary glazing.

Alas, not at Tiffanies and without the benefit of central heating. Brrr!

Adults in the Room?

I have just read Adults in the Room by Yanis Varoufakis. Herself could not believe me when I explained what I was reading. In fact I have had my nose in it for a few days now and been regularly emitting chortles, guffaws , gasps and I don't believe its (but of course I do). A certain lack of attention to domestic detail and response to questions such as  - Do you want a cup of tea now dear or would you like it poured over your ugly bonce while it is boiling hot? elicited distracted and vague responses 
I particularly liked the Swedish National Anthem defence though I much prefer the Icelandic national anthem it is recognised by fewer. The Penelope Postponement. The eurorunaround:- from officials of the institutions declaring this is a political matter and must be decided by a direction from the politicians who then claimed on enquiry that it was clearly a matter for the institutions. Does that ring a Brexit tocsin mon brave? Nobody comes out of this well except perhaps Mrs Yanis, who defended hubby by shielding him physically with her body from a marauding band of anarchists with broken bottles. Boy, those Greek women are tough.  Walter Schauble appears as a cross (very cross) between Dr Strangelove and a pantomime witch! Caramac Christine achieves an Olympic gold in synchronised monetary dithering  and various euro*uc*s as practitioners of fiscal waterboarding that would give the CIA nightmares. You can come to believe anything and the mantra that Greek debt is sustainable is as unbelieveable now as it was in 2015.
Other views of this tome are available There is clearly a 'Hiss and Tell' accusation that can be made but it provides a view of people, processes and abuse that beggars belief (and Greece in passing). The alleged paralysing depression of Alexis, remind you of anyone Godron! The cheek of the American Organs ringing up after eavesdropping on a critical private conversation to seek clarification, dooh!

Cross Words

The Grauniad xword editor (whom god preserve and IMHO is a man of great humanity and self-deprecation) has alerted us to the retirement of Rufus. Good luck to him and a long happy time ahead. One of the few compilers I could countenance recently. The Editor mentions, in passing, the  Clerihew a subtle form of humour and in the right hands and with the right target a devastating weapon.
(Yes the Clerihew did much to bring down the Third Reich and the Berlin Wall... Ed!)

Somebody got out of the office party on the wrong side!

Our Editor believes he is quite arty
He disgraced himself at the office party
His nose for the drink
Has left it quite pink

Mr Wikipedia opines:-

Clerihew
A clerihew is a whimsical, four-line biographical poem invented by Edmund Clerihew Bentley. The first line is the name of the poem's subject, usually a famous person put in an absurd light, or revealing something unknown or spurious about them. Bentley invented the clerihew in school and then popularized it in books.

and reports:-

In 1983, Games Magazine ran a contest titled "Do You Clerihew?" The winning entry was:

    Did Descartes
    Depart
    With the thought
    "Therefore I'm not"?

Seasonal Greetings to all our regular reader(s)

Hazie Daze

Fine day Monday at Lackford Lakes with the weather bright and crisp. All of which puts one in a reflective mood.

(It can only get worse...Ed!)
The old ticker gave a leap of joy as I recognised the flight form of one bird that I had never seen before, to my knowledge, in the feathers, as it were (take that as fast failing memory...Ed.) A kingfisher, which had been masquerading as a little brown job on a pole in the mid-distance, took off and flew across our line of sight. It banked and flashed its finery at us. A Mr Macfarlane had something to say about the weather too, and Halcyon Days, and kingfishers.

I'm so grateful for having RM's word of the day pointed out to me! Nice one B!

Xmas at # 10

Our contact in the far north, a pinko elf in Santa's Grotto, reported a whispered conversation between a tall woman in kitten heels, sitting on Santa's knee, and the big man himself!
She was heard pleading  for xmas to come early this year, the sooner the better!
This strange conversation was confirmed, in writing a few days later, when a letter from a certain address in Westminster to a Mr Claus was intercepted and steamed open. The contents, at least those not redacted, appeared to ask for the same pre-arrival of the festive season and additionally,  for some chocolate coated Castor Oil beans to be sent to a Ms Foster and other parties in the UK (NI branch). The letter was initialled TM (Susu). The Old Fella has replied suggesting that he will not be able to deliver early this year as it plays havoc with the livestock, Hanukkah, and office parties but perhaps in the spirit of cooperation and compromise he might suggest an extended transitional period! Also, do you think he was born yesterday with the chocolate whatsits. As he was one of the first people to get the Breaking Bad Bootlegged Box Set, which he thoroughly enjoyed, he would not be so DUPED. He would have the men in big boots and balaclavas running around the dispatch area at a critical period in the business cycle of the enterprise.
(Let's disregard most of the questions an editor, lawyer, trick-cycalist might have about this blog and your latest entry in particular, what in the name of all that is grub and holey is SUSU... Ed?)
According to some

Sisu is a grim, gritty, white-knuckle form of courage that is typically presented in situations where success is against the odds. It expresses itself in taking action against the odds and displaying courage and resoluteness in the face of adversity, in other words, deciding on a course of action and then sticking to that decision even despite repeated failures.

 A bit of a give away then, if you're Finnished!

It's the Energy Stupid

Mr Naughton had a pertinent column in Th'Observer this Sunday (26/11/17)
(When does he ever not...Ed?)
It concerns the energy consumed by the interweb and all its works and pomps. Big Gigawatts boyo and the 7% of world electricity consumption that is attributed to the digital ec(h)o system at present is only set to grow.
(So easy on the tweets there Donald...Ed!)
Turning to bit coin he points out the absurdity, in energy terms, of the method of production of this form of digital currency. The 'mining' or computing power necessary for creating the little b*g**rs will require the entirety of Ireland's electrical consumption at present and Denmark's in 2020.
(I'm shocked, electrified even. Personally speaking I would rather have The Old Sod and even the Huggy Danes...Ed)
Guilty as charged then!

Those Danes are good II

Interesting programme last night on the Labour party prior to the last election and the aftermath!
One of the MPs followed was Stephen Kinnock, nuff said. On the election night poised to win big he had agreed to talk, not only to the programme makers but also ITV, the Shopping Channel, Battersea dogs home, the Met(to help with their enquiries) and Sky. He muttered that they would probably ask him about 'The Jerrumbly'. His wife, a Dane of some distinction and political nous, sidled up to him and asked sotto danish voce a simple one word question "Why?". Thus was Kinnock Minor saved from falling over backwards and getting his trousers soaked.

G'day

If you need something to get you going in the morning can I suggest Methra - The Rising Sun.
Other tunes are available and more information from the band's interweb thingy Methra.
They are appearing in Suffolk even. God knows if they will find the way in. I hope they are not intending to come by train. 
(You need something these days to crawl from under the doonie. I'll give it a go... Ed)
No change there then!

News from Zimbabwe

So goodbye then Robert! Keith's mum says that there may have been a coup. A good run for your money or perhaps not yours! Much discussion as to what sort of coup it is. Helpfully, my briefing from the Grauniad arriving this morning over the interweb by e-waves suggests it is a Coup de Grace.
Worth the subscription for that alone.
(Should that not be d'Etat... Ed?)
Cherchez la femme!

A Little Danish

Damn, but those Danes are good. A bit too slick, a bit too polished, you think? Away and polish the bolt in your kneck!
NPR gives you a good taste on YouTube here.

The lads of the Danish String Quartet, something for elevenses, other tunes are available. 
(Should that not be neck... Ed?)

Danish, I'm told.

The Windows of Porto

I have not been posting much recently. In my defense, your honour, I cite a bad back, old age, senility and the general paralysis of the insane. However, I have enjoyed reading a number of books from the comfort of my bed of pain. I have travelled to foreign climes, Portugal since you ask, and enjoyed a family wedding. God, I found myself wishing the couple the best of luck, which is pretty thin gruel when you consider what they will have to deal with, better the fair love of my heart.  It was good too, to catch up with members of Herself's large and welcomming tribe. We rounded off the holiday with a stay in Porto and luckily made it back to Stansted despite the Transportations of O'Ryan.
The books below are, I am assured by my records, those which I have read!

Little Boy Blue - M J Arlidge,
The Harbour Master - Daniel Pembrey
The Three-body Problem - Liu Cixin
Nowhere Girl - Ruth Dugdall
Himself - Jess Kidd
I’m Travelling Alone - Samuel Bjork
The Pledge - Friedrich Durrenmatt

A Visit from the Bish

Herself, the head gardener, is inordinately delighted and proud of the Bishop of LLandaff who pays us a visit every year. This wee snap does not do his Lordship justice (as the actress might have said...Ed)

Poppycock!

Collinn Farrell is rumoured to be interested

The world, as you may well know, is in a terrible state of chassis. The weather, it being the height of the English Summer, somewhat cold and damp. Phwatt in the name of all that is good and holy is an old man with a bad back meant to do? Well, since you ask, curl up with a good book from Suffolk  Library. 'A man with one of those faces' by Caimh McDonnell. I won't bother you with details of the plot, the finely drawn characters that grace its pages, the wry commentary on youth, sex, drugs and country music or the dreadful state of a mangy Celtic Tiger portrayed therein. Suffice it to say that if you ever see a guard with a Hurley heading your way and your conscience has the least speck upon it run like feck or drop to your knees, extend both arms sideways, and intone 'Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani'.

A second volume has been prepared for your delight 'The day that never comes' which makes it sound like one of those Morse thingies, no offence there Colin, wouldn't want you turning in your grave. What with the other Collinn rumoured to be interested. ( Do we not have to be careful here with M'learned friends? He was buried, wasn't he, not cremated? Is there not an unhealthy proximity betwixt the words grave, rumoured and interested?...Ed)

I have in my hand the finest Hurley ever to smote leather or the large arse of a fecking eejit!
Eat your heart out Bunny McGarry.

Smart energy wanted.

I know, I know, I keep burbling on about energy but as the sun sets in the west, I hear the refrain, "It's the energy, stupid!" time and time again. Another one from Carbon Commentary that should knock your socks off if it wasn't summer and you weren't wearing sandals.  I particularly like the downbeat characterisation of the CEO; rings true though doesn't it?

Exytron is a plausible contender for a role as the central enabler of the energy transition. But, please note, the company itself doesn’t make this claim. CEO Karl-Hermann Busse, possibly the most pessimistic entrepreneur I have ever met, is far too aware of the obstacles the company faces. He mentions the inertia of many of the existing fossil fuel businesses as important barriers. He says that they will endlessly talk to him but then never commit to partnership. Perhaps a UK company would like an introduction to Dr Busse? No-one should be worried he is going to over-sell his invention.

(Do you not wear socks with your sandals then...Ed?)

Only if they are electrically heated with renewable energy, eejit!

Christine wants you and your sunbeams.

Nice little story from the ever stimulating Chris Goodall in the
CARBON COMMENTARY NEWSLETTER
 (23 July 2017 Subscribe at www.carboncommentary.com)

Solar in Africa. BBOXX said it had signed a deal in the small West African country of Togo to provide up to 300,000 off-grid kits. 10,000 will be installed in the next year giving light, phone charging, TV and radio to unelectrified rural households. 66% of Togo’s adults have mobile phones and can use BBOXX’s pay-as-you go system. The government said it was sponsoring the BBOXX project partly to increase the takeup of mobile money systems. Another indication of the close link between PV, the mobile phone and online payments in Africa.

Now if only that nice Mr Musk or even our Christine Le G. could  dig their hands into baggy pockets and provide a few (Ever)readies for storage we would all get along just fine!

(Could you bring that light over here, I can hardly see the hand behind my back it is so cloudy and dull...Ed)

Summertime and the lighting is easy!

I'll publish yours if ...

Occasionally BP encourages an open debate between editorial and creative members of the cooperative. The usual parenthetical delimiters  and the employment of ellipses is dispensed  with to encourage a full and frank discussion much like the old catechistic method of inculcating doctrinal certainties.

Has there been a bit of a ruck about the old BeeB and the payment of the workers?

There has, indeed. 

Have some of the troops been what can only be described as peeved?

Deeply, I suspect.

Emily, Jane and the women, have been up in arms about it, have they not?

Monstrously so, I fear. 

Could we suggest some names are quite notable by their absence?

A very taxing arrangement, I would judge.

I hope you are not implying, given the alacrity of m'learned friends to seek redress, any malfeasance.

I would not wish to evade the issue but, allegedly, it is wholly avoidable.

Amen

What's your poison?

I was reading a post in the blog by David Spiegelhalter, Understanding Uncertainty, titled
Medicine, poison poison, poison. 
It contained the paragraph:-

At one unit a day (half a standard glass of wine), they estimate a tiny overall benefit for men and a slightly larger, but still small, overall benefit for women. But the Department of Health appears very eager to avoid the message of “a small glass of something for medicinal purposes”.

 That phrase “a small glass of something for medicinal purposes” pinged my short term memory to the day before when I had seen the women behind me in the supermarket queue load 3 bottles of Sonatogen Tonic Wine on to the belt and cover them with a large bag of spinach. Of course it could be that she was in need of a tonic or was short in the iron department or even that it was her tipple of choice, god bless her. Who am I to point the finger of shame having drunk more than my lifetime's allocation of red wine and other electric soups but I do love that - medicinal purposes.

(I feel in the interest of balance I should point out other health promoting  beverages are available; didn't Harold Wilson enjoy the odd 7 pint party can of Hall's Tonic Wine and your own good parents treat the family to a bottle of Buckfast -Bucky- at Christmas time... Ed)

In vino veritas

ADUP

In line with the use of names to designate a quantity of money:- a pony, a monkey, a grand.
Let me suggest         A DUP =£1billion
On this auspicious day, of course, there may be those who would wish to suggest (an orange) dinosaur! Whatever, must pop out for my annual packet of Jaffa Cakes! It's only polite to offer them around

(Doesn't our own TM, peace be upon her,  have a degree in colouring in ... Ed.)

The future is orange or an austere grey, Maybe!

Everything in the Garden

Summertime and there is a certain uneasiness about the world (I do wish you would avoid the pull of the understatement... Ed.) However, as the sun shines and the butter flies, the bees polish their knees and life takes on a softer feel, for some, it is interesting to reflect on the boon of the land.
Patrick Barkham enumerates the benisons but not without reference to the political in a Grauniad article today.  To quote

A garden is more than a space to recharge, though. As George McKay points out in his book Radical Gardening, the collective endeavour that gardening can often be is evinced by everyone from Gerrard Winstanley’s 17th-century Levellers to today’s guerrilla gardeners. It isn’t always progressive – plenty of fascists revere gardening – but when enlightened gardening meets political power, it can rearrange the way we live. Ebenezer Howard’s reimagining of urban life in the 1890s led to garden cities such as Letchworth, and they continue to inform urban planning today.

McKay argues that allotments are “profoundly anti-capitalist” spaces. Modest council rents never reflect the true land value or what councils could earn from allotment land. Produce grown on allotments is consumed locally, and often swapped. Through allotments, we reject today’s dominant ideology of allocating resources via money and globalised markets.

I love that - plenty of fascists revere gardening - !

I would at this point show a picture of the family estate the pride and joy of us all including the head gardener, peace be upon her,  but I have a bad back, I am a lazy swine at the best and a wee bit of pain finishes me off! (You are excused, just the once, but man up there princess we only have one blog... Ed)

That's Oil Folks

You May believe that we have reached the end times because we have been DUPed. You may believe that we are all going to Hell in a Hand Cart because Washington has turned into a dystopian Trumpington, Mr Kim's ICBMs or whatever. I bet  if you  go to sleep worrying about oil, it is   burning too much of it, getting enough of it,  fighting for it,  stealing it or using it on that squeaky bottom bracket. However, the reason we should have night sweats and terrors is that Central Bankers are at a complete loss as to how to decouple the system and environment of financing (low interest rates, QE and its effects) and our addiction to the oily stuff for the economy and anti-squeakyness.
I am alerted to this by the exceedingly informative podcast - Talking Politics- of a Mr Runciman and in particular by a discussion ( the last 15 minutes of the podcast if you are pushed for time) of the book - Oil and the Western Economic  Crisis- by a Ms Helen Thompson. Both I believe hold professorial posts at a nearby university.  Others are available!
Sweet dreams.  

An Englishman in Madrid

Summer Reading facts no. 92 in a series.

Did you know that the above book by Eduardo Mendoza is 9 out of 10 in the top sellers at the LRB  Bookshop?

Remember you read it here first.

What I can't remember though is whatever happened to Gurb?

A Falling Woman

Not the most significant thing to have happened recently but a sign perhaps or even a portent.

TM does her impression of a Falling Woman.

I hasten to add

In case you  think I May have a down on the besom for any Trumpish reasons it's "just poli'ical". In my defense I would point you in the direction of an inspirational character, the subject of a programme in the 'great lives series' of the British Broadcasting Corporation, Shirley Chisholm.
I proudly wore the badge, "Shirley Chisholm for President",  45 years ago, even though I did not have a pig in the race as my ancestors might have had it!

(Lost, lost! I have no idea what you are blethering on about. Lord save us... Ed)
Keep up there fella, as Commander Hastings would say. we are in for quite a ride.

A Poke in the Eye with a Sharp Chip!

Didn't I tell you this, so called, snap election is more about food than pictures! The puns and possibilities are endless. What joy! She May be a "BLOODY DIFFICULT WOMAN" or she May be an insecure geography graduate with a chip on her shoulder. The degree comes in useful, no doubt,  as she sCurries about the country from one group of the faithful to another. It is a bit like a Safari Supper for the Nasty Party. There are many reasons people visit food banks, hunger and a lack of money for food being just two of them. I'm sure that poke of chips would have tasted better with  Pickles but then where are your chums when you need them and the chips are down. Speaking of which I'm sure Phil (which one?) will help her out with the poke when she tires of the chips. Lynton Chrispy must be heaving a sigh of relief that she was not pictured with a bit of battered cod or an old haddock!
(Phwhat in god's name are you talking about??? I think this democracy stuff has finally got to your brain or what is left of it...Ed)

Read and Enjoy the Video!

https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2017/may/02/theresa-may-liberal-democrats-defectors-south-west-stick-with-tories?

Food for thought and elections

It's that time again. Elections couldn't you just vote without them!

Our political food correspondent writes...
On the menu this election is a choice between 
Strong Glands Table Leadership or a Collation of Chaos

Now here's a little candle lit dinner that went a rye... too much sourdough?

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/may/01/how-junckers-downing-street-dinner-turned-sour?

(Jaysus! Can you not give a bit of a warning when you are about to dash into production again. I was at the sister's looking after the wains when the alerty thing popped up on the old interweb. I nearly spilt me tea all over meself!...Ed)

Bushmills tea is that, without milk?

Indexing we trust? p91

Indexing - now there's a thing.
I bet you haven't given much thought to that while I've been absent from these pages or indeed the pages themselves have been absent. The Grauniad had a nice wee article  on indexing on National Indexing Day by Sam Leith. Undoubtedly a piece of crass propaganda for the Society of Indexers.  We might as well go back to the days of craft guilds, 99 year apprenticeships, permanent indentedness, free beer,  protectionism, pre-brexitism  and so called Trade Unions! It is however very interesting and, of course, contains a 404 for the link to the Society.
Deliberate?
(Do you think we might have an index on this blog? I could knock you up a passable index for a few sovs extra each week. Now we have to take the bairns off on holiday when the schools are out it can be very expensive, and we have been going for over 10 years...Ed)

Expletives -obscene
                  -expressing the negative, p 92

West Wing Mark II

A find in the podosphere. A Mr O'Bama has recently stood down from some job or other and I have not always been appreciative as I might have been! (I very much doubt that he even knew let alone gave a tinker's damn... Ed)
However, the link gives about 40 minutes of thoughts, banter, and a few flashes of what the progressive future might have involved (and hopefully may yet involve). I must say that my one moment of queasiness came when your man O'Bam was discussing what the hell happened if the USA defaulted on its debt. Jokes with the gang about minting a trillion dollar coin aside, nobody knew! You have to give it to him, he did keep the show on the road in some very difficult times. His analysis of how the Trumpet of massive investment in infrastructure will lead to a call much later for a roll back on welfare is very scary. A Mr Freedland, who scribbles for some lowbrow rags from time to time, had an equally scary scenario for this in, The Third Woman, his latest penny dreadful.

Reasons to be cheerful!

Given the winter of our discontents - the Americans have elected an eejit, we didn't get the chance to elect our eejit, The Wall of Shame etc.. Thought you might be interested in a little cheer,

You may have heard of Chris Thile or not, ditto for appreciating his music making but the smile on the face of Yo Yo at about 8 min. 30 sec. in the video says there are reasons to be cheerful.

Thanks to all the wonderful people who linked me through the Interweb, the Grauniad, NPR, to this.
Full disclosure:- I am not able to establish that cats were not harmed in the production of the instruments on which this music was played.
(I'm gutted, truly gutted! I will have to consider my position carefully, very carefully. I was always led to believe this was an animal friendly blog... Ed)
How come the cat never gets anyway near your tongue!

Tess of the Submarines. Maybe!

After a few rounds with the doughty Mr Marr yesterday Tess had avoided saying yes no or even Maybe to direct questioning as to what she  knew and when she knew it. We had dropped a b.....k or even a rocket when the lads were on their nuclear hols off Florida. This would be  before the common people were asked to detrouser  billions of pounds for renewing Trident. Well, you can judge for yourselves if she was being forgetful, vague or a squirming politician.
What intrigues me is the kinetics of the thing. I have it on good authority, The Beeb News Corp, usually quite reliable, that our lads were sunning themselves 200 miles from the coast of Florida when this came to pass. Mr Wikipedia assures me that after huffing and blowing for about 2 mins. a Trident rocket reaches a flight speed of 13,600 miles per hour( Eat your heart out Southern Rail) So if I inquire of my calculator how long it would take to travel  from the the good sub Tessa Maybe and land on the  Sunshine State, the answer is less than three minutes and counting down... ( It would give all those snowbirds a fright too, poor dears, as they are sat around the aircon singing the state song - Old Folks at Home. My geography is a bit sketchy but didn't I hear that Cuba is only 100 miles or so from Florida... Ed)
I heard the same also!

Avid for crime(reading)

I may have mentioned before that I have read without benefit of a book group for many, many years.
However, I joined a small group a few years ago. The advantages are that it is sponsored by a public library which provides a room and about a dozen volumes of the same book each month. Our convenor, a calm and well organised woman (peace and many blessings be upon her) provides us with a wide selection of crime novels  for us to enjoy throughout the year and discuss if we feel so inclined.  The group has men as well as women in it, it does not follow a rigid pattern for contributions, members come and go and we do not have to 'speak up and shame the devil' if we do not wish. Occasionally, we get a stinker usually because a book has been suggested to our group from outside. I always make notes as a commitment to the group and the activity. Here is one from last year.

Mary Higgins Clark - The Lost Years
Notes

Pope finds Thank You note from Jesus. Decides to burn it. Monk feels this is blasphemous. Murder ensues through 5 centuries.
Mariah thinks her dad has found the letter and her mum has killed him. After a bit of twoing and throwing Mariah saves the day, the letter and managed a weak smile as she watched Richard running toward her (Who he? Oh never mind!)... Mariah  felt a sudden peace, a peace that was beyond understanding, fill her being.
Turned out nice again!

Frankie and Johnny

So they weren't lovers after all!
I read in my Grauniad today:-
Split in lay order after senior official was dismissed over distribution of free prophylactics and the Holy See hierarchy sought to intervene.
 (Those subs get away with murder. Split and prophylactics in the same sentence. Fast cars, big cigars, even faster women. They probably wear red white and blue braces. How unlike the code of conduct and dress code of our own humble publication...Ed)
Not many people would wear braces to hold their pjs up, I grant you. 

Energy raw in beak and claw!

Royal Institution Christmas Lectures this year, the subject is energy. Catch the last one this evening Beeb4 20:00 or on the EyePlayer thereafter.
Out for our walk on  Sunday we were entranced for about 20 minutes watching a buzzard working the ground around a small river and large field bordered by woods. There was a stiff breeze and the seeming lack of effort that it took to glide over the area looking for its xmas dinner made me think again "it's the energy stupid". What a marvel of energy it is. Precision hunting machine, power pack attached with renewable energy storage. Amazing what you can do with the old proton pump! Still the poor thing did not get its dinner while we were about.
(Probably too polite to tuck in while you heathens were watching...Ed)

Fiat Lux and a lot more!

Thanks to the excellent Carbon Commentary Newsletter of Chris Goodall a good news video. A P2P Solshare Microgrid Installation in Mymensingh.  When the clowns have escaped from the circus we need a little balance. A good friend has been advised by his US relatives that on January 20th next year the clock will be turned back 60 years. I would say nearer 90!
Best wishes to all (?) our readers and a peaceful New Year.

(Is that it? are we going to be swamped in all this U tubeyfacebookytwittery socialistmedianonsense now...ED?)

Have a good holiday but take care there is a man out there who promises to drain the swamp.

Streaming but not Cold

Now here's a thing. Some of us oldies may be old, very old, but it does not necessarily mean that we always associate the word streaming with the word cold. The World Wide interWeb of Wonders does provide some truly marvellous things, as this article in the Grauniad shows. 
That's what I call neat.
I am still of the opinion, though,  that the accordion is an outdoor instrument despite having a 'connected' party who is a superb instrumentalist and musician; you know who you are! Number ten is a family favourite. Many a long journey, spiritual and physical, has been sustained and enlivened by the McGarrigles' Swimming Song.
(Is that the one about swimming in unsafe places in a lack of suitable attire...Ed?)
I'm a self-destructive fool!

HSL High Speed Library

Books, people, time and it's Bliss!
I don't know if any books were harmed in the process of making this short video from the Grauniad.
As Lenin once famously said when he worked at Salford Public Library "You can't have book, Tovarish, unless I stamp on it!"
(I didn't know Vlad was on the council payroll at Salford. Was he there long...Ed?)

As long as it takes to make an omelette.

Bloody Hell

I've just finished 'His Bloody Project' by Graeme Macrae Burnet. A supposed collection of found documents. It has left me with a very strong sense of place, character and society. There is, as described in the Grauniad review ...

...a healthy dose of Kafka as well as Flann O’Brien in Roderick’s account of laboriously gathering seaweed from the shoreline with his father to spread on the fields, then being forced by Lachlan [The Parish Constable] to return it to the sea because they lack the laird’s permission to use his property. When they summon up the courage to seek clarification of the rules that govern their lives, they are told “that a person wishing to consult the regulations could only wish to do so in order to test the limits of the misdemeanours he might commit”. ...

Shades too of Gunn's Green Isle of the Great Deep but the lasting impression I shared with the reviewer was wondering about the reliability of the perspectives that the 'documents' had provided and the other crimes that may have taken place.

(Did Roderick have a poor mouth on him then...Ed?)

I thoroughly enjoyed wading through the misery and misdirection!

The Third Programme

As was, is 70 years old, aint we all (nearly) dearie!
Charlotte Higgins in the Grauniad  makes a plea

"Furthermore, if the bulldozers came for Radio 3, I would be lying in front of them. To my dying breath I would assert its fundamental importance to Britain and its profound contribution to the country – not just by way of the musical life it has supported and grown, especially through its commissioning of composers, but also through a significant relationship with drama and documentary."

Move over Charlotte! Is there room in front of that bulldozer for someone who has delighted in the sound of the Shagbut, Minikin and Flemish Clacket ever since he first heard them  see R3.


At 23.45

SCHOLA POLYPHONICA NEASDENIENSIS Peter Weevil and John Throgmorton (shagbut) Tatiana Splod (minikin) René Carter-Thomson and H. B. Hogg (Flemish clacket) Introduced by HUGO TURVEY
Hucbald the Onelegged (of Grobhausen: fl ?1452) Instrumental Rondo: Haro! Poppzgeyen ist das Wieselungenslied

Take heed "Mother Theresa" where you wield that bulldozer.  I saw a Prime Minister who had an unfortunate accident with a Shagbut and fell into a Flemish Clacket. It was not at all nice, but very interesting!

 (Did old JSB not write a few pieces for the minikin there...Ed?)

The Bright Web!

An excellent book provided, once again, by the stakhanovites in Suffolk Libraries. The Switch by Chris Goodall.

It's the energy stupid!

IMHO a good overview of the present state of solar energy providing a sustainable supply for our needs in the future. It includes a down to earth (sorry) review of costs and implementation.  He considers  financing, the normalising of demand, the use of the web for this and what to do when some ejit says the sun don't shine all the time! (That's easy, turn the lights on...Ed!)

His website provides lots of interesting facts and figures including an analysis of energy supply and storage for the Island of Gigha!  You did want to know didn't you? There is also a weekly newsletter, if you are so minded.

(Ah for the love of Mike will you give us a break from all this happy, clappy, Corbinista, wooly, sock and brown rice eco-communmitarianism...Ed)

Come on! Spark up princess, anyone would think you had pneumonia! 

Cygnet Ring

Not even wrong

A idea contained within an article in the Grauniad  about the possible negative effects of always being right.  Towards the end of the piece  one of those ideas forces you to say - Why didn't I think of that or if you did why didn't I get off my a**e and do it?
Sabine Hossenfelder   has set up a service  wherebye you get a consultation with a quantum mechanic for fifty dollars a pop.

(Did I mention that once upon a time I was involved in sourcing some livestock for a famous scientist.  Erwin Schrodinger, since you ask. As I am no great shakes in the physics department my contribution was in designing and producing the advertisements in the Dublin Press...Ed)

What did it say? Cats! Wanted dead or alive.

Glad to Bee Gay

Border Crossings

An Item on the LRB Blog about the famous Seamus, his finely honed sense of mischief and barriers to humanity. 
As we know he has not passed on but lives quietly, a suitable presence in the fens, a miasmic curate in some forgotten pub!

"To educate the English" Now there's a thought.
(Do you think they might build a wall? I know a few fellas who could do with a bit of work. The construction business has been on the down for a while now and the family connection would ensure it was done to spec and on time...Ed)
by their walls ye shall know them!

Low Blow Jo

Martin Wolf, Chief Economic Commentator of the Financial Times, had a provocative little programme on the Beeb  (R4 09:00 21/07/2016) about negative interest rates. Very interesting! Monetery Policy may not be your thing but it does throw up some ideas "helicopter money" and a the abolition of cash being some.(Did I hear a German Banker scream...Ed?)  One of them, unless I am wrong and frequently I am, is the printing of money.
Gutenberg Money! Can you see it? The man with the beard and the printing press, stood on the bridge, shouting at a minion who is sweating to screw down the press.
"But Master Gutenberg won't this undermine the whole economy?"
"Shut up and keep printing"

Bit of a Larf

Not much recently to give us a chuckle.
Rooting through the tangle of electrons in my interweb reference box I found this link to the GOG (Good Old Grauniad) live session with Naomi Alderman 'interviewing' Margaret Atwood about her new novel 'The Heart Goes Last' on the 2/10/15
(Glad to see we are still at the cutting edge...Ed) As you already know I am a man with a great future behind him.
Anyway the link is here and is also available as a downloadable mpthingy. Very enjoyable.

Flowers and Horns

A dilemma! The pretty picture below, a flower meadowlet in Suffolk, was taken  with my point and shoot bog standard camera.
(It shows...Ed) Hold your horses now Mr Ed.

Herself had an invitation to go and view the flowers and since I was off to the nurse for my MOT results (I am a martyr to my platelets, apparently.) I suggested she take my camera and, with permission of the field management, a few pictures of same flowers. (Manfully attributed... Ed!)
However, the picture above was taken by the field management with my camera and is, domestic harmony notwithstanding, (are you sure that is alloneword...Ed) the best of the bunch, as it were. So there you have it or not as the case may be.
Many thanks to David.
Pretty though, isn't it?

Amazing Grace

Mick had a hangover. He walked through Norwich Market passing the corner where the kilted one  played bagpipes.  The piper was a man in a Jimmy Wig, with no musical talent and a lethal instrument in his hands. He played the only tune he knew, again and again.  Mick crossed the market and headed for the garden in front of the Town Hall and peace and re-hydration. Sugar and caffeine restored some functioning level of awareness. He saw the  shamboling man, carrying two  sports bags, headed for his bench. The flight path meant touchdown in ten seconds! He could not be arsed and began to turn away. Landing with a bump Mr Shambolic  groaned - “Stapped” - stoned more like -  and  pissed himself but when it hit the floor it was red! Phone, ambulance, police, he needed help. This was not Mick's problem. The last words to Mick were - “No phone, take...”
Oh god what, bombs, guns, drugs, dead babies? The late lamented didn't move, he was doubled over,  chest on his knees looking at the bags with sightless eyes, one hand on each bag, offering them. 

He should phone but moving to the body he  zipped back the flap of one bag. Bundles, money bundles, foreign money bundles.  There was no six foot two copper saying Hello! Hello!  No one wanted to say hello to them and no one was near enough to notice! Taking one bag in each hand Mick heaved and walked off, slowly. Terror, fear, guilt, excitement, I don't care, ran through his mind  as he  passed the library. How much money, what type of money, where can you spend it? CCTV cameras, where are they, how can you avoid them, where can you go? Get a taxi.
The man in the grey hoodie was confident that his movements about the city would not be seen or recorded. They had paid for software and an operator to do this. In any case he was not 'known' in the UK. His mother would not recognise him today. He watched Mick  and spoke briefly into a mobile. A car drew up and the hoodie disappeared into the back seat as  Mick hailed a taxi.
The controller in the CCTV centre had  a lousy day. The senior coppers   breathing down her neck. Words half caught between them “big”,  “going south”, “where the f...”.  The cameras blanking in what appeared to be random fashion and a fatal stabbing. She was confident the cameras were sound, they were regularly checked and rechecked. It must be the software and the communications links. That was the job of Mr Algorithm, the condescending nerd who made her life a misery. God, he would pay for this! 
When she got home the local TV news had the body count at 3 now including a taxi driver and a young man, no pictures of course.

Word Botching

A Kite is pure delight
But a 'fisher is much swisher!

What are they thinking now?

Firstly a picture of that Mr Farridge who seems to have acquired some notoriety of late.
See the estimable Grauniad here.

The man with the hand into which he could be despairing, mightily perhaps, is Vytenis Andriukaitis.
What he suggests he was thinking is reported in this blogpost here.
Worth a look.
(Is that a Wimbledon tie Mr Farridge is wearing? I must say it is in better taste than the tie  Andriukaitis has round his neck. Who is he trying to impress, the wee lassie in front of seat 122 or the jaffas...Ed!)

By their ties ye shall know them. The ties that bind, perhaps.

Helen of the D'Amberponts

Disclaimer.
The proposal for a romance/radio cereal/graphic novel is attached.
Any similarity with an everyday story of countryfolk or indeed Mr Hardy's underwhelming and somewhat febrile novel is purely coincidental. To be continued... (see omnibus edition No. 92)

Mayday

The first Sunday in May and six acres of bluebells in Haughley Park Woods.

Other photos are available -

http://www.haughleypark.co.uk/public-events/

It seems meet and just to celebrate Mayday with something blue. In the interests of balance however and to avoid any any suggestion that all that is yellow is not necessarily red can I direct you to Mhairi Black: SNP MP's maiden speech in full on You Tube! (I am confused, perplexed and banjanxed. You have me completely lost...Ed!)

Oja La.

Wake Up Call

Imagine my surprise listening to Late Junction early this morning on the Beeb's marvelous catchy uppy iplayer type thingy.
(Late Junction 5/04/2016 http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b075prfv ) There at 00:55 - Ed Lee Natay  Zuni Sunrise Canyon Records. He was  singing his socks off to get the horses up and all us idle bu**ers out of bed. Sam Lee (no relation as far as I know), who was the guest on the programme, describes his recognising this track and first hearing it as the arise song at FSC. I recognised it too though I was probably singing it (I could in those days, sing that is.) Is it as haunting as I think or is it just  an association with the great outdoors and a very happy time?

Sam was on  after his own programme went out on Sunday - Taking It All Back Home 3/04/2016 BBC R3 . In it he explored how archives and institutions around the world are looking to repatriate sound recordings.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b075p6n9  If you miss the link or don't have time it is downloadable.

I particularly liked the division of people into coyotes and others!

Reflections on Memory

Interesting article in the Grauniad on art, identity and memory by SJ Watson.

 (Oh I see what you did there, smart boy wanted, very good, very good. Speaking of bright young things I believe one of the related's saucepans has had some success  with the fiddle..Ed)

See for yourself at 1:58. You do have the Swedish do you not? I don't know what I would pay an editor for if it wasn't the Swedish.

(PAY...Ed!)