... of the seven deadly sins, the eighth and most horrid is emotional blackmail ... whilst for this blogger, the only sacred thing is life itself
Monday, March 31, 2014
Sunday, March 30, 2014
Friday, March 28, 2014
Thursday, March 27, 2014
chancing on the derveni krater's very existence, i was so impressed by this writer that i went online & bought the book ... it was quite hard to find, and very easy for the shippers to lose, but i've just rescued it from the local sorting office ... battered but invitingly readable
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Krater
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Derveni_krater
i couldn't find or obtain the book in my local library and was interested in avoiding paying money to amazon ... i found a link that went via waterstones to a book store in pennsylvania, but when the book finally did arrive it had come from the great alibris warehouse, improbably situated in the remote town of Sparks in nevada
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Saturday, March 22, 2014
Thursday, March 20, 2014
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Saturday, March 15, 2014
billy bennett ... my role model for 2014
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mKhcQmIiJys
... and here are the words for you to learn by heart before you go to the pub
SHE WAS POOR,
BUT SHE WAS HONEST
(aka IT'S THE
SAME THE WHOLE WORLD OVER)
(Traditional
- English Music Hall)
Billy Bennett
- 1930
She was poor,
but she was honest
Though she
came from 'umble stock
And an honest
heart was beating
Underneath
her tattered frock
'Eedless of
'er Mother's warning
Up to London
she 'ad gone
Yearning for
the bright lights gleaming
'Eedless of
temp-ta-shy-on
But the rich
man saw her beauty
She knew not
his base design
And he took
her to a hotel
And bought
her a small port wine
Then the rich
man took 'er ridin'
Wrecker of
poor women's souls
But the Devil
was the chauffeur
As she rode
in his Royce Rolls
In the rich
man's arms she fluttered
Like a bird
with a broken wing
But he loved
'er and he left 'er
Now she
hasn't got no ring
It's the same
the whole world over
It's the poor
what gets the blame
It's the rich
what gets the pleasure
Ain't it all
a bloomin' shame?
Time has
flown, outcast and helpless
In the street
she stands and says
While the
snowflakes fall around 'er
"Won't
you buy my bootlaces?"
See him
riding in a carriage
Past the
gutter where she stands
He has made a
stylish marriage
While she
wrings her ringless hands
See him there
at the theatre
In the front
row with the best
While the
girl that he has ruined
Entertains a
sordid guest
See 'er on
the bridge at midnight
She says
"Farewell, blighted love"
There's a
scream, a splash......Good 'eavens!
What is she
a-doing of?
So they
dragged 'er from the river
Water from
'er clothes they wrung
They all
thought that she was drownded
But the
corpse got up and sung
It's the same
the whole world over
It's the poor
what gets the blame
It's the rich
what gets the pleasure
Ain't it all
a bloomin' shame?and my favourite ...
DON'T
SEND MY BOY TO PRISON performed by Billy
Bennett (Almost a Gentleman)
The
snow was falling 'orrid, the 'earth and 'ome was cold
To
save his starving family, the sticks 'ad all bin sold
And
when his poor old mother, she was a-stricken ill
He yielded
to temptation, and, he rifled of the till.
Chorus:
Don't send my boy to prison
It's the first crime wot he's done
'Six months.' replied his Lordship
'Oh Gawd 'elp my h'erring son.'
It
was a simple h'action, to sneak another's wealth
But
then 'e only done it, to save his family's 'ealth
Oh
shed the tear of pity or quell an angry word
'E
never knowed no better, Nor, voice of conscience served.
Chorus:
They
shoved the irons across 'im, a-coming through the door
Says
he, "I only done it because I was so poor"
The
h'officer all a-trembling, he wipes away a tear
Says
he, "I knows my duty, And, no more I mustn't hear."
Chorus:
The
judge looks on in h'anger, and the prisoner hung his head
And
then his poor old mother wot was with him upped and said,
"Don't
send my boy to prison, It's the first crime wot he's done."
"Six
months." replied his Lordship, "Oh, Gawd 'elp my h'erring son."
Chorus:
They
takes 'im from the dock then, and carts 'im from the court
Not
caring how his mother her poor home can now support
Thank
God there's them in Marylebone who'll comfort her poor heart
And
see her through her troubles, till they needs no more to part.
Chorus:
Deus, qui nos in tantis periculis constitutos, pro humana scis fragilitate non posse subsistere: da nobis salutem mentis et corporis ut ea quae pro peccatis nostris patimur, te adjuvante, vincamus. Per Dominum ... O God, who knowest that through human frailty, we are not able to subsist amidst such great dangers, grant us health of soul and body, that whatsoever things we suffer because of our sins, we may overcome them by thine assistance
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Sunday, March 9, 2014
Saturday, March 8, 2014
Friday, March 7, 2014
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
ta-ran ta-ra !!! lord nelson by spode, dating from 2005 via a charity shop in reigate
co-incidentally, we took a trip down the river this morning to the national maritime museum at greenwich and were able to study nelson's trafalgar over-coat, complete with fatal bullet hole on left shoulder
Sunday, March 2, 2014
some say that memory rot sets in earlier than you thought .... but i wonder if early memories are just buried under the avalanche of subsequent experience
http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/09658211.2013.854806
http://www.vads.ac.uk/large.php?uid=88905
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Francesco_Sforza_(il_Duchetto)
... kidnapped at the age of nine and never returned
Saturday, March 1, 2014
looks like it'll be another wasted weekend of reeling and writhing
i've just discovered BBC radio 3's essay archive
http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b006x3hl/episodes/player
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)