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October 22, 2009

Eliot Stamp
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Given the highly entertaining spell of inclement weather in a paper cup over on Poem Of The Week, ( a quick précis: Eliot was a great poet. No, he was an upper-class poseur. The Wasteland is a great poem. No, it’s a tool of Capitalist oppression. No, it’s a great poem. Rubbish, it’s a piece of pretentious cack foisted on a gullible proletariat. Christopher Hitchens says it’s the most over-rated poem of the 20th century. Ah, the old argument from authority. No, the fallacy only arises if Hitchens is cited as infallible…und so weiter), I thought this would be a good time for Eliot parodies. Mind you, it’s always a good time for Eliot parodies. Let’s breed lilacs out of the dead whatsit….
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The Love Song Of J. Alfred Mowbray

Penso che un sogno così non ritorni mai più.
Mi dipingevo le mani e la faccia di blu.
Poi d’improvviso venivo dal vento rapito
E incominciavo a volare nel cielo infinito.

Volare, Oh!, Oh!,
Cantare, Oh!, Oh!, Oh!, Oh!
Nel blu, dipinto di blu,
Felice de stare lassù.

Let’s fuck off then, you and me
When the evening is flat on its back
Like an out-patient hammered on crack
Let’s sling our hooks and piss-off
Down the Old Kent Road, hotels and cafes
And such-like gaffs.
Oh, don’t ask ‘Who the fuck?”
Let’s just drop in on the cluck.

In the boozer, the birds come and go
Talking about some dago painter.

Foggy out, innit? Must be the weather.

Fancy some tea and toast?

Fuck me, it’s them birds again
Still yakking about that Italian.

Whodjoo mean, my hair’s getting thin?
Cheeky bastard.

Fancy a coffee? Pass the spoon.
Is that music in the other room?

Ragged claws? Silent seas?
You’re talking in riddles, mate.

Well, what did you mean, then?
Lazarus, my arse.

Yeah, werl, we’re all getting old, mate.
You should buy shorter trousers.

Part your hair behind? Behind what?
Make up your bleedin’ mind:
Do you want a peach
Or a day at the sea-side?

60 Comments
  1. freep permalink
    October 22, 2009 1:39 PM

    Pancake Tuesday

    Let us hope to turn again
    Let us hope to turn
    Let us hope

    Mary, in your glory, pray for our dinners
    Pray for us now and as we dribble forever
    With hunger insatiate
    For the the crepes that linger
    Unturned
    In the ever-blessed air

    For God said, in the voice of the grasshopper
    Show unto us the blessed womb
    The ovate essence intermingled
    With the milk of kindness
    And the flour of a thousand harvests
    Intermingled

    And let the gracious rage, of heat devoted
    Burn, let it burn
    Below the silent waiting pan
    Until the visible thickness of manna
    Torment our unworthiness
    Till it turn and turn
    Forever in the evanescent air

    Till Ash Wednesday come,
    Till death come and take from thee*
    Thy sustenance

    Let us hope

    [* The allusion, of course, is to Roubiliac’s monument to Lady Elizabeth Nightingale in Westminster Abbey:
    http://www.wga.hu/art/r/roubilia/nighting.jpg%5D

  2. MeltonMowbray permalink
    October 22, 2009 5:47 PM

    If you came this way,
    Taking the route you would be likely to take,
    There would not be much chance of arriving.
    The M3 is recommended, then the A34 to Oxford,
    Followed by the M40 and A43 to Northampton.
    Essential roadworks commence on all these routes
    From this moment until the end of time.
    You are not here to move, to travel untroubled to your
    Destination. You are here to fume pointlessly,
    To argue with your wife and shout at your children,
    And say for the thousandth time how bloody hot it is,
    Here, at the intersection of the A42 and the A5,
    Which is nowhere, and in the middle of nowhere.

  3. MeltonMowbray permalink
    October 22, 2009 5:51 PM

    Eliot’s doggerel is under-appreciated, I think, and he had a real gift for the form.

    —Let us take the air, in a tobacco trance,
    Admire the monuments,
    Discuss the late events,
    Correct our watches by the public clocks.
    Then sit for half an hour and drink our bocks

  4. October 22, 2009 5:53 PM

    A Poem of the Week guide to Whispers of Immortality

    Webster saw the skull beneath the skin.
    A pedant writes without derision
    Did Webster have X-Ray vision?
    Without it impossible to see within.

    Grishkin gives promise of pneumatic bliss.
    A pedant shrieks and then falls ill.
    Pleasuring youself with a cordless drill?
    Mr. Eliot you are surely taking the piss.

  5. freep permalink
    October 22, 2009 7:39 PM

    He’s a gift for parody, ain’t he? A traffic jam of voices. I once had to learn some lines from Sweeney Agonistes as part of some Surrealist event, and the lines were:

    Under the bam
    Under the boo
    Under the bamboo tree
    Two live as one
    One live as two
    Two live as three
    Under the bam
    Under the boo (etc)

    Those bloody lines crop up in my head often, and they irritate me worse than Cliff Richard songs. That’s what Eliot’s brilliant at – irritation. Atf would probably call it defamiliarisation or something.
    But like you say, MM, he’s a dab hand at doggerel too. I often get him mixed up with Betjeman. Better than that, though, he can put up a line that should be risible, and is, and yet get away with it – from Four Quartets:

    Lady, whose shrine stands on the promontory
    Pray for all those who are in ships, those
    Whose business has to do with fish …. (!!)

    I might quote that down the chippy later, see if there are any pedants waiting for jumbo sausages in batter. That’s sausages in batter, not pedants.

  6. pinkroom permalink
    October 22, 2009 9:19 PM

    A Resigning Issue.

    Soon come, soon come.
    Can I find the iron? Have I still got the wire in my blood?
    Stand-up? Lie down? Turn around? Clown.
    My locks and beard now turned cloud.
    Longer, but much more sparse they say.
    Booted and suited. Eau de cologne today.
    At lapel a gold herb leaf, tastefully gay.
    Class. Radical. Chic.
    An issue of principle
    I say.
    An issue of principle
    upon which to stand up,
    even stand down,
    as an equal
    opportunities professional?
    The meeting will begin in one minute now.
    My resignation can be withdrawn
    one minute
    after.

  7. mishari permalink*
    October 22, 2009 10:08 PM

    Mooning At The Widow

    They’re rattling old gents in cellar bordellos
    And along the passages, slack raddled meat;
    Quivering pale flesh of aging odd fellows:
    They’re spending big money and buying a treat.

    The brown waves of toss fog up the panes,
    Twisted bottoms rise from woven-cane seats;
    Dull gleam from each rheumy eye, fevered wet brains;
    All brainless leers that hover like heat
    And vanish downward like hell-bound trains.

  8. October 22, 2009 10:27 PM

    Talent present and talent past
    Are both perhaps present in talent future,
    And talent future contained in talent past.
    If an X-Factor is eternally present
    All talent may find redemptive success.
    What might have been is an abstraction
    Remaining a perpetual possibility
    Only if one dares not enter the contest.
    What might have been and what has been
    Point to one end, which is eternal regret.
    Silent applause echoes in the memory
    Down the corridor we never trod
    Towards the dressing-room door we never opened
    With a gold star on it above our name.
    But you must ‘believe in your dream’.
    Even the dream
    You had quietly put down years ago,
    Put to sleep, cruel to be kind.
    Other illusions
    Throng in the contest. Shall we follow?
    Quick, said Ant and Dec, find them, find them,
    Round the corner. Through the first door,
    Into the backstage dimness, shall we follow
    The sobs of the singers? Out on the stage
    There they were, glamorous, trembling,
    Feeling the pressure, ready with the tired song,
    In the heat from the lights, through the vibrant air,
    And the singers sang, in response to
    The unheard music from the pre-recorded backing tape,
    And the audience gasped and cheered, for these girls
    Had the look of other singers who are famous.
    There they were for us to stare at, judged and judging.
    So the camera moved, and they, having hugged and cried
    As is expected, ran away from us,
    Along the empty passageway, into the dressing-room,
    And we, following, saw the door swing open,
    Saw the hard-faced children ready to elbow
    Each other out of the way, the pushy mother,
    The hideous family row.
    Go, said Ant, for the room was full of hysteria,
    Shrieked insults and wild laughter.
    Go, go, go, said Dec: human kind
    Cannot bear very much ‘reality’.
    Talent past and talent future
    What might have been and what has been
    Point to one end, which is always tabloid.

    (You’re a bad influence, Mishari – I really like Burnt Norton and now look what you made me do.)

  9. mishari permalink*
    October 22, 2009 10:37 PM

    I’ve always felt that parody contained a strong element of affection, Zeph…unlike satire, which is fueled by hatred and disgust. I’m a great admirer of Eliot’s work myself…

    Now you’ll have to excuse me. I need to sneer at a Nazi..

  10. October 22, 2009 10:40 PM

    I’m refusing to watch.

  11. mishari permalink*
    October 22, 2009 10:48 PM

    I can’t say I blame you. Mind you, the fat Nazi’s not got off to a good start. I’m just hoping to see the odious scumbag defenestrated…

  12. MeltonMowbray permalink
    October 22, 2009 11:09 PM

    I wonder why Griffin keeps laughing all the time. Must be tactical. Straw is a bumbling prat. Warsi is pretty good for a Conservative.

  13. mishari permalink*
    October 22, 2009 11:18 PM

    Yeah, I have to (reluctantly) admit, she’s not bad. Certainly a lot better than that slippery wanker Straw. Actually, even Huhne is better than Straw. Straw’s son is just as ghastly as the father and just as intent on gliding from student politics to think-tank (sic) to Whitehall…

  14. MeltonMowbray permalink
    October 22, 2009 11:30 PM

    What, the dope dealer? I didn’t realise he was anyone.

    Greer is by far the best. What a turn-up. The only non-politician takes the laurels.

  15. mishari permalink*
    October 22, 2009 11:37 PM

    That’s the one. I wouldn’t say he was ‘anyone’, just another slime-ball politician in embryo. He was spouting some drivel on CiF the other day about ‘voting reform’, i.e. the dozy twerp’s in favour of US-style ‘primaries’. Tosser…

    Wow, Griffin’s New Improved BNP believes consenting adults should be allowed to do what they like in the privacy of their own homes. What a sweetheart…

  16. freep permalink
    October 22, 2009 11:44 PM

    To live? That means to thrash Straw. He nearly made Griffin look human.

  17. MeltonMowbray permalink
    October 22, 2009 11:47 PM

    That is very generous of them, and probably makes them more liberal than NewLab.

    Thank God it’s over, anyway, and not as bad as it might have been. Some proper debate on economic matters would have been welcome, since the BNP can’t exactly be bursting with financial brains. Someone like Huhne (I think he was economics ed of the G) could have put Griffin on the spot there.

  18. mishari permalink*
    October 22, 2009 11:49 PM

    BNP economic policies? You have a taste for Ionesco-style Absurdist comedy, I see…

    I liked it when Bonnie Greer pointed out that, for Griffin, British history began in 700 AD. He evidently doesn’t realise that the vast majority of the Roman legions that served in Britain (considered a hardship post) were tribal levies, mainly from Syria, Egypt and Mesopotamia (Iraq). The majority of them married local girls and settled in Britain when their service ended.

    So when people see freep hurtling across the moors in his chariot, spear at the ready and dogg loping alongside, seeking lions to transfix, they have to realise that he’s answering the call of his Assyrian heritage. Blood will out…

    Here’s an excellent evisceration of the loathsome Straw by Matthew Norman.

  19. pinkroom permalink
    October 23, 2009 8:01 AM

    Well Griffin can go f-himself, I’m off to see Smokey Robinson tomorrow.

  20. October 23, 2009 9:41 AM

    They were all equally as evasive, no-one mentioned the Conservative’s dalliance with far right East European parties purely for the sake of politics, Straw couldn’t explain the reasons for the Iraq war ( can anyone? ) so skipped over that and Huhne was just a few homilies dressed up as a vote for Lib-Dem party political broadcast. Greer played to the gallery but at least didn’t have any hidden agenda.

    It was left to some members of the audience to expose what a toe-rag Griffin was.

  21. mishari permalink*
    October 23, 2009 11:21 AM

    I think you’re right, Al…none of the panel covered themselves in glory. But Griffin was a bad joke. His characterisation of the Klu Klux Klan as ‘non-violent’ was rich. A blatant lie, of course, but even funnier was his weird notion that the KKK’s violence was the most repellent thing about them. Larf, as Steven would say.

    But I urge you to read the Matthew Norman piece I link to above. Truly, the scumbag Straw is a much greater threat to what’s left of our liberties than a one-trick pony like Fatty Griffin..

  22. MeltonMowbray permalink
    October 23, 2009 12:17 PM

    Some decent slagging in the Norman piece, but quite wrong about Straw’s public performance. I’ve never understood why people rate him as a speaker: whenever I’ve seen him he doesn’t seem to fully understand his own brief, so any unexpected question or disagreement throws him completely. I have the feeling that fundamentally he doesn’t believe in anything much.

    I didn’t think it a good idea to have Griffin on the show, but in the event I think its been pretty useful. My experience of him has been through ten-second soundbites and hostile profiles: seeing him for an extended period demonstrated conclusively what a shallow tosser he really is. His torrent of disavowals can’t have made him popular with other BNP activists. Could be a night of the long knives in the offing.

  23. mishari permalink*
    October 23, 2009 12:33 PM

    We can only hope…perhaps they’ll select a new leader more in keeping with their image of a blonde, blue-eyed Aryan superman…say, someone like their beloved Adolf, who was, erm..never mind.

    It would be amusing if one could make these knuckle-heads understand that the purest descendants (if the concept actually has any meaning–a doubtful premise) of the Aryans are the Iranians (Iran=Land of the Aryans). Perhaps they could persuade a suitable ‘Aryan’ to lead them…

    Dimblebore: “On tonight’s panel, Jack Straw of the New Law and Order Party, Mahmoud Ahmedinajad, leader of the BNP…”

  24. October 23, 2009 12:53 PM

    Jack Straw is deaf in one ear – I too will be deaf in one ear soon possibly completely deaf in 5 or so years. So I recognise that sense of detachment he has. But unless he’s profoundly deaf he’s not short of a few bob so I don’t understand why he’s not invested in a decent hearing aid. I would if I had the cash but the only ones I’ve tried have been like jammimg a tinny transistor radio in your ear. Quite unpleasant.I’ll wait until people really have had enough of me saying pardon? before I make the next move.

    I think all that burka business with Straw a year or so back came about initially because without being able to see the mouth move it can be difficult to understand people. I don’t have any respect for what he does but I did have sympathy with that.

  25. MeltonMowbray permalink
    October 23, 2009 2:33 PM

    I’m talking about the Straw of twenty-five years ago as much as today, Al. A typical second-rate lawyer – never properly prepared and always confident they can wing it if necessary. Quite wrongly.

    I suppose you’ve considered cochlear implants. They seem to work for some people.

  26. mishari permalink*
    October 23, 2009 2:52 PM

    I’m not, I hope, lacking in human empathy, Al, but Straw the politician is what concerns me. So unprincipled and slippery, so devoted to authoritarianism, so utterly 2nd rate…detestation is the only reasonable response to so degraded a creature.

    His latest attempt to undermine democracy (secret inquests that exclude even the family, for fuck’s sake) and the sleazy, underhanded method he used to try and get the legislation passed beggar belief…or would, if this shower of New Labour creeps, toadies, crooks and scumbags hadn’t already proven themselves the worst enemies of a free and open society that this country has faced since the Nazis…

    Although I keep telling myself that Pie Face Cameron and his gang of spivs will be worse, I’m really finding it hard to imagine how, short of instituting a Gestapo and concentration camps, that would be possible…

  27. October 23, 2009 3:10 PM

    They will be worse, Mishari. They’ll find ways.

    Lawyers – the curse of modern politics. It should be against the law for a lawyer to become an MP, especially barristers. They’re trained not to have any convictions beyond whatever’s needed to win the current argument.

    And they think they’re entitled to a lot of money because some of their buddies in the law are coining it – though they probably wouldn’t have made big money in law themselves owing to being rubbish.

    Alarming – you’d think with modern technology etc etc that hearing aids would have improved, but it seems only very expensive ones are tolerable. My mother was forced by her GP to accept an NHS one and refused ever to wear it because it screeched in her ear, deafness was preferable.

  28. mishari permalink*
    October 23, 2009 3:29 PM

    Amen to that, Zeph.

    Jack Cade:

    Be brave, then; for your captain is brave, and vows
    reformation. There shall be in England seven
    halfpenny loaves sold for a penny: the three-hooped
    pot; shall have ten hoops and I will make it felony
    to drink small beer: all the realm shall be in
    common; and in Cheapside shall my palfrey go to
    grass: and when I am king, as king I will be,–

    All:

    God save your majesty!

    Jack Cade:

    I thank you, good people: there shall be no money;
    all shall eat and drink on my score; and I will
    apparel them all in one livery, that they may agree
    like brothers and worship me their lord.

    Dick The Butcher:

    The first thing we do, let’s kill all the lawyers.

    –Henry VI, Pt. II, Act 4, Scene 2

  29. October 23, 2009 3:34 PM

    mishari as I hope I made clear I have no respect at all for Straw but his comments about burkas were twisted around by the press.

    As with Zeph – the Tories will be far worse. They always are. To reheat an old comment locally the Labour party have been good around my way. Gerald Kaufman before he went OTT on expenses did a lot of good stuff. They’ve suffered from the antics of the parliamentary party.

    The problem at the moment I think is that we are run by not-very-good bank managers. A problem because the real bank managers they are basing their act on aren’t exactly doing a good job either. We used to have an Arts Officer in our dealings with the Arts Council – now they are dumping a Relationship Manager on us – I kid you not. Cameron and his crew are more of the same only with more right wing views.

  30. mishari permalink*
    October 23, 2009 3:52 PM

    If the Tories really are demonstrably worse, then they’ll be a one-term government but the thought of this party of war-mongering crypto-fascists getting another term is unacceptable.

    The US government has announced that it’s cutting remuneration to bank execs by %90 (in any bank that’s taken X in tax-payer’s money). Our bunch of spineless, clueless oafs just dither and whine but do nothing. In the meantime they still peddle the fantasy of a ‘just war’ in Afghanistan…because ‘9/11 was planned in Afghanistan’. Yeah, whatever…as if 9/11 couldn’t have been planned in a Whitechapel Burger King or an internet chat-room.

    We even have Darling and co tacitly agreeing that huge salaries and bonuses must be paid to bankers to retain the ‘talent’ (sic).

    Hang on…aren’t these ‘talent’ the same incompetent, amoral douche-bags who brought the world economy to its knees in the first place? And they’re threatening to leave if they don’t get more tax-payer’s millions?

    Christ on a bike..why the fuck isn’t Darling standing on an airport runway waving them goodbye?

    Eliot had this lot pegged:

    We are the hollow men
    We are the stuffed men
    Leaning together
    Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
    Our dried voices, when
    We whisper together
    Are quiet and meaningless
    As wind in dry grass
    Or rats’ feet over broken glass
    In our dry cellar

    Shape without form, shade without colour,
    Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

    Those who have crossed
    With direct eyes, to death’s other Kingdom
    Remember us—if at all—not as lost
    Violent souls, but only
    As the hollow men
    The stuffed men.

  31. mishari permalink*
    October 24, 2009 12:13 AM

    Marina Hyde, (bless the Cruella De Ville thigh-length boots I saw her wearing on Newsnight a few months ago), goes from strength to strength.

    Meanwhile, in a deserted e-mail account on the other side of town, our old pal Robert S. Meuller III is back at the FBI. I guess his stint as manager of the Lagos Western Union office didn’t suit. He’s still trying to give me $11 million, all of it on an ATM card. What a swell guy…and what a pity I don’t actually need $11 million.

    Attn: Beneficiary,

    This is to Officially inform you that it has come to our notice and we have thoroughly Investigated with the help of our Intelligence Monitoring Network System that you are having an illegal Transaction with Impostors claiming to be Mr. Charles Soludo of the Central bank of Nigerian , Mr. Patrick Aziza, Mr Frank Nweke, none officials of Zenith Bank, UBA Bank, kelvin Young of First Bank of Nigeria, Ben of Fedex, Ibrahim Sule, Larry Christopher are impostors claiming to be the Federal Bureau Of Investigation. During our Investigation, we noticed that the reason why you have not received your payment is because you have not fulfilled your Financial Obligation given to you in respect of your Contract/Inheritance Payment.

    Therefore, we have contacted the Federal Ministry Of Finance on your behalf and they have brought a solution to your problem by coordinating your payment in total USD$11,000.000.00 in an ATM CARD which you can use to withdraw money from any ATM MACHINE CENTER anywhere in the world with a maximum of $4000 to $5000 United States Dollars daily. You now have the lawful right to claim your fund in an ATM CARD.

    Since the Federal Bureau of Investigation is involved in this transaction, you have to be rest assured for this is 100% risk free it is our duty to protect the American Citizens. All I want you to do is to contact the ATM CARD CENTER via email for their requirements to proceed and procure your Approval Slip on your behalf which will cost you $110.00 only and note that your Approval Slip which contains details of the agent who will process your transaction.

    Robert S. Mueller, III .

    Director Federal Bureau of Investigation.

    Gee, thanks, Bob; but I’ll tell you what. You keep it. Call it my contribution to the FBI’s fight against internet fraudsters, a cause that I feel sure is as near to your heart as it is to mine.

  32. MeltonMowbray permalink
    October 24, 2009 12:12 PM

    You have to admire Bob’s persistence.

    I see Griffin is a law graduate, though I make no aspersions on the generality of the legal profession (the ones who defended me were pretty lousy, I must say. Arriving late looking like you’ve just got out of bed and without documents (or a pen) doesn’t help your client), who I am sure are excellent.

  33. October 24, 2009 1:33 PM

    Bob’s given up writing to me. I gave him all my bank details but not so much as a thank you in return. Coincidentally a few of my cheques seemed to have bounced recently.

  34. MeltonMowbray permalink
    October 24, 2009 2:31 PM

    La Figlia Che Piange

    Stand and scream at the top of the stair-
    Smash a valuable urn-
    Run, run the hairbrush through your hair-
    Look in the mirror with a shocked surprise-
    Fling it to the ground and turn
    With a malevolent gleam in your eyes:
    It wasn’t me who cut your hair.

  35. pinkroom permalink
    October 25, 2009 12:07 AM

    Smokey Robinson was great… finished with tracks of my tears. A true poet.

  36. mishari permalink*
    October 26, 2009 1:27 AM

    Smokey Robinson is beyond criticism…unlike football players. I came across these in an article on football chants. Well, they made me laugh…

    He shoots
    He scores
    He eats his labradors

    (sung to Man U’s Korean striker Park Ji Sung)

    He’s fat, he’s Scouse,
    He’s probably robbed your house.
    Wayne Rooney, Wayne Rooney

  37. MeltonMowbray permalink
    October 26, 2009 5:47 PM

    The only one I can remember from the terraces at Swindon is (to the tune of that Shaker song):

    Fight, fight, wherever you might be
    We are the boys from the West Countree
    We’ll do you over whoever you might be
    We are the boys from the West Countree.

    You’ll Never Walk Again was a classic, usually sung at Reading or Gillingham fans, but I think lots of other clubs sang it.

  38. mishari permalink*
    October 26, 2009 6:08 PM

    You must have forgotten this one:

    Oi can’t read
    Oi can’t write
    but it don’t really matter
    ‘cos oi come down from Swindon Town
    Roidin’ on moy tractor

    (to the tune of The Monkees “Daydream Believer”)

    Cheer up, Francis Lee
    Oh, what can it mean
    To be a fat northern bastard
    In a shit football team

  39. October 26, 2009 6:39 PM

    I like your version of La Figlia, MM, very good!

    Speaking of eating Labradors, I’ve issued a challenge for dog poems over on Other Stuff. Risky, I know, out of curiosity I googled ‘dog poem’ and nearly drowned in a wash of sentiment, but hey…

  40. mishari permalink*
    October 26, 2009 7:05 PM

    You can be assured of a dogg poem from freep or, failing that, a freep poem from his dogg…I’ll spend some time contemplating Honey for inspiration. Being exceptionally dim, she’ll imagine I’m contemplating taking her for a walk or giving her a taste treat and she’ll become excited and break my reverie…actually, I think I’ll ignore her. I’ll just look through this month’s Horse and Hound instead…

  41. MeltonMowbray permalink
    October 26, 2009 7:39 PM

    Oddly enough I think I wrote a poem about cooking a labrador on here a while back. It might be a bit on the tasteless side for Otherstuff. Honey. What a lovely name for a dogg, and so apposite.

    Congratulations on managing to restrain yourself on POTW. Even a saint like me cracked in the end.

  42. mishari permalink*
    October 26, 2009 8:09 PM

    I must admit, I was sorely tempted to contribute my tuppence worth but thought ‘fuck it’. Like wrestling pigs, innit? You both get covered in shit and the pig loves it…

    The dogg’s a honey-coloured Lab, very sweet and hopelessly thick. The name seemed obvious…

  43. October 26, 2009 10:35 PM

    MM, the French regulars on OS will undoubtedly contribute something involving a recipe, so feel free to add your broiled lab verse.

  44. mishari permalink*
    October 26, 2009 11:02 PM

    A man cut off his own head with a chainsaw in a carefully thought out suicide because he was “irrationally opposed” to leaving his repossessed home, an inquest heard today.

    Sergeant Mark Carter said he found Mr Phyall in the lounge with blood spattering the walls, floor and a cabinet.

    Central Hampshire deputy coroner Simon Burge said to the officer: “It must have been a huge shock to you.”

    Sgt Carter replied: “In some ways it was sir.” –The Indy, today

    In some ways? In some ways? Christ almighty, in what ways wasn’t it a shock?

  45. October 26, 2009 11:20 PM

    Sgt Carter has obviously seen decapitations before and has become less shockable. You’d think that the grip would slacken and the saw would switch off, leaving the head not entirely severed, or can you put a chainsaw on autopilot?

    Another example of how cruel some suicides can be to the rest of the world. I always feel angry with people who jump in front of trains, how can they not think of the poor driver and the people on the platform? Why don’t they just stay home and take a nice clean overdose? But then apparently there’s often an element of ‘now see what you’ve made me do’.

  46. mishari permalink*
    October 26, 2009 11:37 PM

    All chain-saws (that I’ve ever used) have a trigger that engages a clutch. When the trigger/clutch is disengaged, the engine still runs but the chain (saw) doesn’t. Jamming it on isn’t difficult, though.

    But as you say, it’s the sheer lack of consideration of so many suicides that irritates. A heroin overdose is cheap, quick and painless and causes minimal trauma for the poor sod that has to deal with what’s left of your fleshly envelope…

    How many self-decapitations by chain-saw occur in central Hampshire, for God’s sake? Enough for Sgt. Carter to become blasé? Wow….

  47. MeltonMowbray permalink
    October 26, 2009 11:49 PM

    There was a chap on South Today (regional TV station) fairly recently who retrieved his neighbour’s arm after he (ie the neighbour) cut it off with a chainsaw. Chap appeared speechless and pale at his door waving his stump about, so his wife called the ambulance while he hunted round the garden looking for the arm, which was sown back on again. Perhaps Sgt Carter attended, or was the good Samaritan, or the disarmed neighbour.

    Took me ages to find that labrador thing. Where’s the index?

  48. mishari permalink*
    October 27, 2009 12:07 AM

    the ‘search’ function on this blog is completely useless. However, I googled ‘labrador, mowbray ,misharialadwani’ and found the poem (on the Weep and Howl post) instantly. In fact, it was the only result returned…

  49. MeltonMowbray permalink
    October 27, 2009 12:24 AM

    Googling never crossed my mind. I’ve never had a single result google.

  50. October 27, 2009 8:08 AM

    It’s called a ‘Googlewhack’. Dave Gorman made some money a few years back pretending to find them wacky and exciting.

    I don’t know who you all watched on Question Time, but it wasn’t Nick Griffin. He sold me a ticket at Granada station a couple of days ago. Perhaps the man you saw was Billy Shears.

  51. mishari permalink*
    October 27, 2009 10:25 AM

    atf has got me and MM bang to rights in her latest swivel-eyed tirade. Although her devotion to copyright laws sits a little oddly with her rejection of Capitalism it’s no more hypocritical than her incessant bigoted attacks on the English (while living in England and doubtless happily taking the Queens shilling).

    But her characterisation of our lives as an endless round of six-packs, football and boy-bands is right on the money…

    [Now that the mods have deleted atf’s screed, my comments make little sense. Damn–Ed.]

  52. October 27, 2009 1:13 PM

    re: identity of ticket sellers, there used to be a guy selling tickets at the Oval tube station who looked exactly like Elvis… or maybe….?

    (cue Kirsty McColl)

  53. October 27, 2009 1:41 PM

    Looking at POTW, I find myself in agreement with deadgod. Bit of a worry.

  54. mishari permalink*
    October 27, 2009 2:33 PM

    Whether DG is right or wrong has never been an issue for me. I can never be bothered wading through all that turgid lit-crit/po-mo waffle to find out…

    I’d point him/her in the direction of Walter Benjamin, George Orwell, Christopher Hitchens, V.S. Pritchett and Grim Grin for lessons in how to be fiercely intelligent and immensely readable. While I disagree with the the fore-named on many points, I’m never less than engaged.

  55. October 27, 2009 4:33 PM

    I would usually agree about DG but I’ve rarely agreed with anything more than this recent observation:

    ‘To be a person, and to read Lear, is ‘to do’ as much with the heart and mind as words can provoke.’

  56. mishari permalink*
    October 27, 2009 5:01 PM

    As I said, XB…I don’t doubt for a minute that DG has some interesting things to say. It’s the manner of the saying that gets in the way for me.

    So when are you going to enlighten me viz. Jibbs McAllister, you shifty bugger?

  57. MeltonMowbray permalink
    October 27, 2009 5:13 PM

    I didn’t get a chance to read atf’s comment, but I’ve probably heard it all before. Still rate deadgod highly – if you can brush aside the foam of lexical ‘jokes’ then there’s always something nutritious to chew on.

    That BNP thing on the blog is strange. I wonder if they keep a task force of bloggers on notice just in case?

  58. mishari permalink*
    October 27, 2009 5:39 PM

    Ah, you missed a cracker, MM. First we were castigated for dealing in illicitly burned CDs and DVDs but then, with a shrug, we were dismissed as sad bumpkins, only interested in football, six-packs (I think she meant beer but who knows?) and boy-bands…I wish they hadn’t deleted it. It was fucking hilarious…

  59. freep permalink
    October 27, 2009 6:59 PM

    Ah, sorry I missed it. Fancy accusing you both of being bumpkins, when you clearly know how to burnish your conkers. Now, doggs. Mine has rather a lot of scabs just now, so I may have to resort to an imaginary one.

  60. mishari permalink*
    October 27, 2009 7:23 PM

    Werl…yer obviously the very man to write the definitive ‘scabby dogg pome’ that the world’s been waiting for…

    An old, mad, blind, despised, and dying hound ,-
    Canines, the dregs of their dull race, who flow
    Through public scorn,- mud from football ground,-
    Rulers who neither see, nor feel, nor know,
    But leech-like, their local councillors owe
    Till they drop, blind in blood, without a blow,-
    A people starved and stabbed in the untilled field,-
    An army, which liberticide and prey
    Makes as a two-edged sword to all who wield,-
    Golden and sanguine laws which tempt and slay;
    Religion Christless, Godless – a book sealed;
    A Senate, – Time’s worst statute unrepealed,-
    Are graves, from which a glorious Phantom may
    Burst, to illumine our tempestuous day.

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