Monday, March 31, 2014

feeding time in the primates' enclosure

... many thanx to janet for the lovely picture

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

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

Saturday, March 15, 2014

billy bennett ... my role model for 2014

... and here are the words for you to learn by heart before you go to the pub

(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.


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."


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."


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.


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

Tuesday, March 4, 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