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The Talkies
Well, a bit of humour for you this week.
My mother sent me a package this week, a package containing Mr B. The Gentleman Rhymer’s album “Flattery not included”, a bloody marvellous present I must say. Chap-Hop in it’s finest form.
I’d come across him before but had no idea he had an album out. Enjoy.
Lord Byron
A short post, by virtue of being otherwise occupied for most of the week, as will be the case for some time to come.
None the less, I thought I’d share a poem with you. I’ve been reading some odds and ends recently and have been rather taken by the work of Lord Byron, a man of great standing and ill repute. A man of whom it was said was “mad, bad and dangerous to know”. I’m sure you can do the research, if you so wish, into him. He’s a very interesting character, epitomising that eccentric and extravagant aristocracy that (rather thankfully) is long gone.
I’ve chosen a rather striking and dark poem to share, it’s quite long, so I’ll just give you a quote and a link. Make of it what you will…
The flashes fell upon them; some lay down
And hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest
Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smil’d;
And others hurried to and fro, and fed
Their funeral piles with fuel, and look’d up
With mad disquietude on the dull sky,
The pall of a past world; and then again
With curses cast them down upon the dust,
And gnash’d their teeth and howl’d: the wild birds shriek’d
And, terrified, did flutter on the ground,
And flap their useless wings; the wildest brutes
Came tame and tremulous; and vipers crawl’d
And twin’d themselves among the multitude,
Hissing, but stingless—they were slain for food.
And War, which for a moment was no more,
Did glut himself again: a meal was bought
With blood, and each sate sullenly apart
Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left;
I for one like it. There’s something about it that strikes a chord, perhaps it picks up on something in human nature, I don’t know. It’s a masterpiece either way.
The Hunt for Tweed
I guess it’s time for a little rant. A rant about the way things are today, and the way they used to be… And who may be the poor victim of this rant? The humble charity shop.
Firstly, a quick disclaimer. Whilst charity shops may plague our high streets and business men may whine about the concessions made to them, they do a wonderful job, raising money to solve issues that the rest of the world has given up on (there’s a much more nuanced interplay between society and charity, but that’ll do for now), so kudos to them.
Yet, there has been something of a trend recently. A trend which has only become apparent in my hunt for the illusive, perfect, tweed jacket. A trend of upward prices and of a decreasing standard of stock. Frankly, it’s making this hunt more of an epic saga…
There’ll be a glimmer of hope from the window, something green, a flash of herringbone, and with a quick dash into the shop my dreams are destroyed. Polyester. 6” too big. Women’s. It appears only fat women wear tweed these days, or that there’s been a recent spate of deaths in the fat tweed wearing female population. Either way, it’s making things bloody difficult, and I’m getting desperate.
But beyond tweed, I’ve seen things for sale at a higher price than they would be brand new. I’ve seen triple figures for gods sake! Where have the days you could get a t-shirt for 50p gone? I could go on, but I’m sure one gets a general gist of my gripe.
Alas, that haven of the bargain has become little more than an empty shell of it’s former self. But then, maybe it’s not their fault. Maybe eBay’s to blame… Or maybe I’m just asking for too much.
On The Wireless
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]The Squadronaires - Saturday Night at the Palais
Something a bit different this week, music! I find this kind of music always brightens up my day, though I listen to it rarely, and it’s been quite a pleasure with the weather we’ve been having.
I must admit it’s a bit of a cop-out as I couldn’t be bothered to write a full post… I could make a nice, verbose, chappy, excuse about my hectic schedule, about moving residence for the season - which would partly be true - and the need to reacquaint myself with chums old and new, but that’ll have to do.
Ho hum. Enjoy the music, and the sun!
A Bottle of Tea?
Thus far we have established I like 2 things, tea and drink. We have also established that I like these things alot. So, imagine my surprise upon discovering a mystical product which combines the two…
Let me introduce you, therefore, to Twisted Tea’s “Hard Iced Tea”. A drink with the charming strap line “Works like beer, tastes like tea”.
This was, in fact, another alcoholic gift from the parents and this time they have well and truly excelled themselves. Whilst the strap line is uninspiring and the labelling rather garish the drink itself is wonderful.
This, simply, tastes of a Lemon Iced Tea with a hint of something almost unidentifiable, something a little bit malty. Its very easy to drink… One must find a good supply for the summer.
Let Me Show you Something...
As I’ve been a bit busy this week I don’t have a post prepared, instead there’s a link for you to check out. Further insight into the world of chappism, sport as it should be…
Meditations on Humani-tea
Since the dawn of time we’ve wondered what makes us human, what sets us aside from the other animals. Could it be emotion? Language perhaps? A sense of morals? No. I stipulate (and I’m sure you can see where this is going) that it is our ability to grow, harvest, select, prepare, and enjoy tea which makes us human.
This marvellous plant provides me - and millions of others - with hours of enjoyment. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you about it, because all humans have indulged in tea at some point. Show me someone who has never drunk tea and I’ll show you a higher-ape masquerading as a person.
It’s another area where I’m a bit of a snob; tea bags are all well and good but loose leaf tea is where it’s at. The quality is much better, resulting in greater flavour. There’s a huge range of teas, from the light and delicate White Tea’s, through the Greens, to the darkest Blacks. But, in all honesty, a nice strong Assam is where it’s at.
I think I’ll write about different types of tea at some point; but now I must stumble back to the pub, for I am in the North, and that is what we do.
Oh, and apologies for the pun.
Crabbie’s!
Another alcohol related post. It seems I have founds something which I both enjoy and feel comfortable writing about! This time, however, I’m going to give some thought to a bit of unconventional drink, Crabbie’s Green Ginger Wine.
When I first received this, a gift from the parents at Christmas I was repulsed; not by the gift, but by the taste, may I add! My first glass revealed none of the spicy ginger taste I was expecting. Rather, I tasted something quite medicinal with few - if any - redeeming qualities.
I stuck by it though, never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, and it’s revealed it’s inner wonders to me. Now I see it as a warming, sweet, complex drink. A favourite for relaxing with, either with company, or alone. The subtle hints of ginger are enough to illuminate the palette, without overwhelming it, and it has the perfect level of sweetness.
I shall do little more than recommend it thoroughly and note that, unfortunately, I haven’t seen it in any local shops and am nearing the end of my bottle. Rationing, it seems, is imminent.
Matters Concerning Shaving
Shaving - that most necessary yet objectionable chore - rarely gets the consideration it deserves. It has become little more than a menial task, increasingly mechanised and dehumanised. 5 blades, gel in a can, and a liberal dose of razor burn and dry skin if you’re lucky. Not fun by anyones standards.
However, all is not lost! Let me turn your gaze to one of my many eccentricities… the lost art of wet-shaving. I shall not be giving a guide on how to do it, as there are many tomes already written, rather I’m just espousing its wonders!
Whilst this method of shaving takes some time to master, not cutting yourself to ribbons is an achievement the first couple of times, it’s joys are two fold…
Firstly, it turns shaving from a chore to an experience. Building a nice warm lather to your exact needs - rather than just taking what you get from a can - and the weight of a well built razor in your hand really is enjoyable. And there’s a lot of experimenting to do - different soaps and creams, different types of razor and different blades - which allows you to create a ‘personal’ experience.
Secondly, cost. Rather than following the typical ‘razor and blades’ business model blades are considerably cheaper than their modern counterparts. Whilst a good razor, soap, etc, requires a large outlay to start with, you’ll save money quickly. Always a good thing!
That’s about it, I think.
Gin & Tonic!
As a student, I spend a lot of my time drinking. I guess I’m reasonably well qualified, then, to make a comment on this most important of matters! Whilst Beer is my staple I do, on occasions, ‘play away’.
I would therefore like to introduce you to my drink of the moment, the humble, yet oft maligned, Gin & Tonic…
(An image, for the hard of thinking)
An old persons drink, perhaps. But there’s something inherently enjoyable about this classic combination. An enjoyment which has only been magnified by the recent good weather. Slightly bitter, slightly herby or slightly fruity depending on the gin, light, and hugely refreshing.
Unfortunately I’ve been stuck with Gordon’s Gin at the moment, for my finances are stretched. I’ve learnt to love it though. Whilst it’s not a ‘top-shelf’ spirit and though it lacks some of the refinement of its counterparts (Bombay Sapphire, for example) it certainly has character! And if I’m drowning such a spirit in tonic water the quality doesn’t have to be that fantastic.
It’s not a drink for getting drunk, but for me, it’s a truly social drink. Sophisticated to boot! (And, as I’ve found, cheap enough when you’re out!)
