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Right Wing Morons 1: Jay Nordlinger

December 5, 2009



Yes, I admire Rumsfeld a lot. I think he’s absolutely the right man in the right job. I admire Condi Rice too, whom I’ve known for several years, and John Ashcroft, and many others. Even Colin Powell. There’s a lot that’s stand-up about him, even if he sometimes sets my teeth on edge.

But you know who is most admirable? The president himself. He has conducted himself magnificently in office – not just as a wartime leader, but all-around. Someone suggested to me that he’s as good as Reagan. I believe that, actually – and there’s no greater Reagan nut than I. Even Nancy.

Jay Nordlinger, Editor, The National Review, on Bush, interview on conservative blog Enter Stage Right

Republicans have seldom shied from an embrace of manliness. The New York Times recently ran a report on the new Bush re-election headquarters. It explained that the offices display two large photos: one of President Bush “sweating and looking rugged in a T-shirt and cowboy hat”; another of Ronald Reagan “also looking rugged in a cowboy hat.” And all this was before Arnold Schwarzenegger decided to run for governor of California. Yup, that’s the Republican Party.

Of course, George W. Bush is famous for his “compassionate conservatism.” He is capable of great tenderness of expression, much of it related, no doubt, to his triumph over alcohol and his religious awakening. But Bush as hombre has been the dominant theme of his post-September 11 presidency.

Rich Lowry, editor of National Review, likes to tell a story about Mr. Bush out in Iowa, early in the 2000 presidential campaign. A group of Hell’s Angels rode into town, and Gov. Bush simply waded into them, hugging them, bonding with them, relishing them. —Nordlinger on Bush, in the Wall Sreet Journal

Am I alone in detecting a weird homo-erotic vibe going on here? Nordlinger is, of course, vehemently opposed to ‘Gay Rights’…hmmm.

He simply seeps into your bloodstream. Was there ever a better smile — a smile that lit up several counties around it? When you have been smiled at by Bill Buckley… You have been well and truly smiled at. And the Buckley voice… I must have drunk in thousands of hours of it, all over the world. Sometimes we listened to music together, played on the hi-fi (as Bill would call whatever the device was). We would not speak, or barely speak. Just listen, and sort of commune: with the music, with each other, and with higher things. Those wordless sessions were some of my most prized.

I’d go to Salzburg, and he — feeling somewhat left out — would say, “Say hello to music for me!” I confess — and this is egotistical — I loved being out with him. Out in public with him. You were the recipient of reflected glory. I’d take him to a restaurant, and the maitre d’ would be wide-eyed. He would never look at me the same way again. I loved taking walks with Bill, and took many of them, in various parts of the world — especially in Stamford. He would not necessarily like to talk about politics or policy or history or anything intellectual.

He liked to appreciate: “Isn’t the sky lovely?” “Isn’t that an interesting garden?” “Isn’t it amazing how squirrels scurry?” Once, we were in a Mexican restaurant (New York). As we were coming in, Mr. T. and his entourage were going out. Mr. B. and Mr. T. brushed up against each other. I thought, “Two American legends.”

I loved to hear him speak Spanish — especially in Spanish-speaking countries. He would sometimes say something in French to me, when he wanted to be conspiratorial. He was a big, tall man, and surprisingly strong — I mean, really strong. When he was old and feeble, I saw him lift a heavy table, sitting down — remarkable. His muscles strained. He may have spent much of his life on a seat, writing, but he was damn strong — physically strong. He was a man, not an angel. Actually, he was an angel: a man/angel.

Nordlinger, on right-wing pseud and faux-patrician William F. Buckley

Isn’t this a lovely piece? Aren’t there an awful lot of words, often used correctly? Don’t you wish they’d just get a room? Isn’t it amazing how many right-wing thinkers are certifiable morons?

I give up…you can’t parody this stuff…

  1. December 5, 2009 2:51 PM

    Ah but Mishari, Mr. T IS a legend, the way he and his mates could build a tank out of random things they could find when locked in a shed by the baddies was just unbelievable.

  2. mishari permalink*
    December 5, 2009 6:24 PM

    True, Polly…Buckley, however, was just a right-wing shill and power groupie. These quotes give you the true flavour of the man:

    McCarthyism…is a movement around which men of good will and stern morality can close ranks.

    McCarthy and His Enemies: The Record and Its Meaning.(1954)

    The central question that emerges… is whether the White community in the South is entitled to take such measures as are necessary to prevail, politically and culturally, in areas where it does not predominate numerically?

    The sobering answer is Yes – the White community is so entitled because, for the time being, it is the advanced race.

    Editorial. National Review.(August 1957)

    He moderated his tone later in life, realising that he was alienating the more ‘civilised’ conservatives he wanted to woo, but he was an odious man–creepy and reptilian.

    Don’t you just love that:

    I loved to hear him speak Spanish — especially in Spanish-speaking countries.

    …as opposed to speaking Spanish in Swahili-speaking countries, I guess.

  3. December 6, 2009 11:21 AM

    Which was the neo-con who was shown licking his comb before combing his hair in Michael Moore’s film about 9/11? Was it Paul Wolfowitz? Or have I just made that name up?

    When I saw it the whole cinema shrieked in horror each time he did it. My toes still curl at the thought of it.

  4. mishari permalink*
    December 6, 2009 12:34 PM

    Yup…that was Wolfowitz. What a charmer. Bush later appointed him head of the World Bank, a position he was forced to resign not long afterwards when it was discovered he’d appointed his (unqualified) mistress to a high position in the organisation. What a crew…

  5. mishari permalink*
    December 6, 2009 1:08 PM

    BTW, Al…I forgot to ask…do you fancy Breaking Bad? It really is very good. I’ll shoot a copy up to you if you like…

  6. mishari permalink*
    December 6, 2009 2:26 PM

    The Obama White House is morphing into the Bush White House with frightening speed.

    Maureen Dowd, New York Times, today

    I’ve been hugely entertained by the tsunami of gush that’s greeted his (Obama’s) election victory. The numbers of people trying to blow sunshine up my undies is both amusing and alarming. Amusing because fatuous, alarming because of the manifest ignorance of both history and politics.

    Obama is a politician. He will disappoint. He didn’t get to the White House by practicing yogic breathing and turning the other cheek.

    …the notion, much bruited about by the rose-tinted spectacles mob, that Obama is an agent of change, of idealism, that he is, in short, a new broom is unsustainable.

    – Me, on this blog, 14 Feb, 2009

    I hate to say ‘I told you so’, but….

  7. December 6, 2009 2:29 PM

    Is this the dad makes crystal meth family series? Yes please.

    Saw the Coen’s ” A Serious Man” last week. Very good.

  8. mishari permalink*
    December 6, 2009 3:07 PM

    That’s the one. I’ll pop it (series 1&2) in the post tomorrow…The only Coen Bros film that I thought was a waste of time was their re-make of The utterly pointless excercise, I thought.

  9. December 6, 2009 3:48 PM

    Barton Fink and Intolerable Cruelty were the ones that didn’t do much for me though both had good moments. Barton Fink seemed too willfully weird ( and similar in many places to Eraserhead ) and Intolerable Cruelty just seemed like someone else doing a Coen Brothers film.

  10. mishari permalink*
    December 6, 2009 5:35 PM

    Intolerable Cruelty? Was that the Clooney/Zeta-Jones vehicle? I didn’t realise that was a Coen Bros film. Didn’t think much of it. I did like Barton Fink, however..

    John Goodman crashing through the flames with an shotgun held high, yelling ‘I’ll show you a life of the mind…’ stays indelible in my memory.

  11. MeltonMowbray permalink
    December 7, 2009 12:28 AM

    I wasn’t that keen on Barton Fink either (nor Eraserhead, which made me feel queasy for years after seeing it. We’d just had our first kid – that didn’t help). Fargo still stands out for me (with TBL some way in front, of course). If Nicholas Cage hadn’t been in it I would have rated Raising Arizona too, mainly for Goodman’s performance.

  12. December 7, 2009 9:28 AM

    Do people here know of Leo Strauss? Perhaps it’s one of those names that only I’d never heard, but a couple of articles on him – and his followers – shed a lot of light, for me at least, on modern US right-wing strategies and behaviour. And, depressingly, general political behaviour.

    On the subject fo quality films: Yesterday I watched E.T., Kindergarten Cop, Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and Public Enemies (the 6-disc Fassbinder box-set postponed for another day). Beat that!

  13. December 7, 2009 10:20 AM

    Ex B was “Public Enemies” any good? I need some positive male opinion on it to persuade the other half that he wants to sit through me drooling over Christian Bale and Johnny Depp.

  14. alarming permalink
    December 7, 2009 10:26 AM

    Raising Arizona is a real favourite of mine particularly for Nicolas Cage’s performance. I liked him when he first started and thought the blockbuster work must be done out of necessity to finance the less commercial films. But it now seems his roles in the likes of Raising Arizona were hiccups in an endless line of duds.

    My mum saw him switch on the Xmas lights in Bath last week ( the peak of any actor’s career surely ) and thought he was “lovely”. Apparently he owns a castle nearby.

  15. December 7, 2009 10:27 AM

    Sorry, Poll, but I was rather disappointed. I found it too downbeat and slack in the storytelling to sustain any interest or momentum; the characters are entirely unexplored and undeveloped – all but the leads and J Edgar Hoover are interchangabe – whilst the dialogue is generic gangster-speak. The love-interest is developed in an unbeleivable and cliched way ‘stick with me, doll’ etc, although Cottilard produces perhaps the only moments of real drama. Lots of chasing around in the final half-hour and an unforgivable lack of style or tension. Johnny Depp’s usually great fun but this seemed one of his wilderness performances, like From Hell. If you want a Depp fix i’d watch the Libertine; low-budget, fantasticaly over the top, and his nose falls off.

  16. December 7, 2009 12:01 PM

    Never seen Cry-Baby, MM, but I’ll take that as a full endorsement.

    The Fassbinder is his tv adaptation of Berlin Alexanderplatz. I’ve been pining for Berlin since leaving in July – which seemed a good excuse to indulge.

    Nicolas Cage can be very funny. Nathan Rabin at the Onion’s A.V. Club (I’ve bigged him up here before) often champions him. This review also contains an epochal re-interpretation of Marlon Brando’s later career:,31280/

  17. MeltonMowbray permalink
    December 7, 2009 11:26 AM

    Come on, Exit, the must-have Depp is surely Cry-Baby. I’m almost completely straight but I nearly fell in love with the bloke. I don’t think I’ve seen a Fassbinder since the 80s. The ones I saw (on TV-they never seem to show ‘art’-type films any more) I liked a lot.

    I find Cage unbearable myself, Al, though as a pro I respect your judgement. That part should have gone to Buscemi. I think he would have done more with it.

  18. alarming permalink
    December 7, 2009 12:00 PM

    Buscemi is a weasel MM not a cartoon dork which I think Cage did well – Raising Arizone being a bit like a Warner Brothers cartoon. But after RA and Wild at Heart he just became a donkey with a six-pack. I’ve made that sound better than it actually is.

    I keep waiting for Buscemi to be the love interest in a film. He’s done all the independsent films there are so it’s surely only a matter of time. I read that William H Macey ( another wonderful loser ) has succumbed to this condition

  19. December 7, 2009 12:07 PM

    Ex B, you confirmed my fears that it’s not supposed to be a good film. Shame. I’ve found Depp one of the most consistent actors for finding himself decent roles, or at least making awful roles into something better. I thought his Captain Sparrow saved the latest Pirate film, as the rest of it was pretty awful, but he turned in a brilliant performance.

    I can never tell what Nicholas Cage says, it’s a complete mystery to me. I’ve heard of people speaking through their teeth, but I think he speaks with his teeth.

  20. December 7, 2009 12:09 PM

    Nicolas Cage walks into a bar.

    The barman says: ‘why the long face?’

  21. alarming permalink
    December 7, 2009 12:36 PM

    Saw the Fassbinder Berlin Alexanderplatz when it was on TV in the 80’s. Late on BBC2 when they did such things. The last episode is particularly good.

  22. mishari permalink*
    December 7, 2009 1:27 PM

    So XB, you’re back in The Smoke? Good. I’m off again this evening but I’ll shoot a few things over to you today. Can I interest you in Breaking Bad (one of those great shows that turns me into a proselytiser)?

    I have to agree with XB’s take on Public Enemies, Polly. I was a bit disappointed. It seemed as if Michael Mann treated the subject with a bit too much reverence, as though he were inspecting a valuable antique. It was all a bit downbeat and a bit too cliched. Not bad, but I expected better from Mann.

    I quite like Cage in some things. I recently saw him play an international arms dealer (The Lord of War, I think it was called). It was a bit over the top but entertaining.

    Depp was hugely entertaining as Lord Rochester in the Libertine. I also enjoyed Johnny Vegas as Lord something-or-other, his entire performance delivered in a Scouse rasp that would strip paint.

    Depp was fun as a drug kingpin in…damn..forgotten what it was called….Blow, I think.

  23. parallax permalink
    December 7, 2009 1:38 PM


    What I said about sorting stuff out still stands – a small part of fucking-off was trying not to mess up your (mish’s) blog by engaging with a regular name-dropping casual racist.

    But MM your lure drags me back:

    I’m almost completely straight but I nearly fell in love with the bloke

    Yeah, that’s right: lust, desire, love and artificial boundaries confuse people that like neat packages.

    Mish, great atf thrashing – much deserved. Fuck, I’m so over pontificating ‘what I’ve read’ and ‘what you should feel’ dickheads that never freaking feel anything but think that they can control the essence of poetry – yeah, I’m looking at you (insert [n]ames that suit)

  24. mishari permalink*
    December 7, 2009 1:55 PM

    Hey, para…I hope all’s well with you? Re: atf, I always regret wading in. I feel awful afterwards, as though I’d struck a child (something I can only imagine). She just has this unerring ability to goad me into a rage. I really ought to know better. I’m a grown man, fercrisesake…mostly.

    I think (and I wouldn’t swear to it) that Barton Fink took its storyline, in part, from the career of Clifford Odets, who’d written a very successful play called Waiting For Lefty.

    Odets, who (I think) was a Communist, was invited out to Hollywood on the strength of it (on the strength of having written Waiting For Lefty not on the strength of being a Communist). He met Faulkner, who was there at the same time (the genteel Southern drunk ‘Bill’ in Barton Fink) and was horrified by how far sunk in the sauce Faulkner was.

    I thought it was a brilliant satire of 40’s Hollywood.

  25. alarming permalink
    December 7, 2009 2:07 PM

    mish I think para means me as regards casual racist though how being critical of the way the Australian white community treats the aborigines and liking Herzog qualifies me as one I have genuinely no idea.

    But if para wants to have a go at me he can click on my name find the email address and let fly rather than simmer away – might be better for the sake of this blog .

    I think there’s been a misunderstanding on what I said ( particularly as regards Herzog’s “documentaries” ) but who knows?

  26. mishari permalink*
    December 7, 2009 2:10 PM

    I must admit, I was wondering about that but rather than ask and start a ‘you said, I said…’ snipe-fest between two people I’m very fond of, I thought I’d just let it lie.

    I think your idea of resolving it by e-mail is a good one.

  27. alarming permalink
    December 7, 2009 2:18 PM

    Only he can’t click on my name – used to be able to but my web-site is in the column opposite.

  28. parallax permalink
    December 7, 2009 2:31 PM

    Alarming – I don’t want to click on “your name” (what’s that all about) and have a go at you until you’re better informed. Have you seen Samson and Delilah? Do you know anything about Warwick Thornton?

    You were fucking out of order mate.

  29. alarming permalink
    December 7, 2009 3:32 PM

    Para If you click on my name you get my web-site and email address ( or you used to – it doesn’t seem to work anymore so look to your right and you’ll see the WRAS mentioned ).

    I made the offer so as not to clog up someone elses’s blog with a spat. You might want to look at my response to you on the PotW thread too ( the one written by the Native American poet ).

    But as you seem to have made your mind up completely I guess that won’t happen. Oh well.

    • Parallax permalink
      December 19, 2009 11:51 AM

      Your offer is out of date – you’ll see you didn’t even think about not fucking up Mish’s blog until after the event. No wonder your carnival-puppets only look into your head space and not outwards – pffuffph!

  30. MeltonMowbray permalink
    December 7, 2009 3:39 PM

    Oh, I see. I thought you had me in mind, para.

    I’ve had several issues with Al’s posts over the last year or two (grammar, spelling) but I’ve never thought of him as a racist, casual or otherwise. Worth engaging in a spot of dialogue, I’d say.

    • Parallax permalink
      December 19, 2009 11:50 AM

      MM – no, I’d never direct that insult at you. You, quite rightly, home in on Somerset twats and talk to them as equals, knowing that ribbing is what you give as much as you get.(Although I notice Alarming has been touchy in the past about his origins) Sadly, Mr E Taylor talks ‘about’ Aborigines as though they are ‘other’ some sort of relic that won’t answer back – they/we are (in his mind) people to be talked about. Unlike you MM, who has a sense of equal border difference, Alarming doesn’t remotely imagine that they/we can engage in a bit of banter.

      MM you’re funny – Alarming’s racist – HUGE gulf.

  31. mishari permalink*
    December 7, 2009 3:41 PM

    Al, for your name to be clickable, I think you have to put your website address into the space provided when you log in here. I’m guessing you’ve had to re-log in here at some point recently and forgot to do it.

    I’ve just heard about an American woman who’s divorcing her husband because he cheats at Scrabble. Sounds reasonable to me…

  32. December 7, 2009 3:42 PM

    Your cultural deliveries are always gratefully received, Mishari!

    I picked up Ian Macdonald’s Revolution in the Head the other day, to complement my careful passage through the Beatles Remastered: In an act of unforgivable geekery I’m only listening chronologically, on headphones, when all is quiet. I’m up to With The Beatles.

    I’ve seen Samson and Delilah. Victor Mature rocks.

  33. MeltonMowbray permalink
    December 7, 2009 3:57 PM

    Didn’t you hit any kids when you were a kid, Prince? I suppose you had a major-domo to do it for you.

  34. mishari permalink*
    December 7, 2009 4:20 PM

    Yes, indeed…I still have my man, Jazzfan, administer physical chastisement to those I deem deserving of it.

    Is that a yes to Breaking Bad, XB? I’ve got Revolution In The Head, myself and the re-mastered box-set but I’ve not done the chronological listening thing.

    I don’t know if you clocked it, XB, but I made a vid of If I Had My Way I’d Tear The Building Down set to clips from the end of Samson and Delilah, where he brings down the temple.

    I’ve always thought that MM’s caustic disparagement of Somerset and its natives verged dangerously close to racism–his disdain for their ancient culture of zyder, Morris dancing, incest, bingo and combine-harvesters was a bit near the knuckle…

  35. December 7, 2009 5:05 PM

    Fixed it.

    Morris dancing originates from the commuter belt of Kent doesn’t it? But otherwise MM is spot on in his comments.

    Leans back and falls off wall.

  36. December 7, 2009 8:03 PM

    Love If I had My Way, a kind of righteous flip-side to that other Johnson’s If I Had Possession Over Judgement Day.

    And yes, please to Breaking Bad.

    Never noticed before how the first solo Beatles vocal (Can’t Buy Me Love)is backed with Lennon’s snarky response, You Can’t Do That, perhaps a rebuke to McCartney’s presumption on taking an A-side all to himself.

  37. December 7, 2009 9:18 PM


    Just turned on the telly and saw an advert for yet another US drama. This one caught my attention when I realised the lead was Malcolm In The Middle’s demented Brian Cranston, who I love. What a surprise I got when I saw the name of the show. Never heard of it before. So, thanks in advance.

  38. mishari permalink*
    December 7, 2009 10:24 PM

    No sweat, XB…I’ve delayed my departure until tomorrow so I’ll get that in the post myself instead of trusting it to the house-sitter.

    I’m confident that you’ll like it a lot. MM’s been watching it and I think he’s quite impressed. I’ll also be passing along that 4-CD Rare 60’s Garage compilation I promised you a few months ago…

    BTW, I haven’t forgotten our ‘neglected artists’ project but I just haven’t had time to give it the attention I’d like to. I will in the new year, though…

  39. hic8ubique permalink
    December 8, 2009 1:10 AM

    I’ve come a-knocking with hat in hand. Sheepish.

    I’m stopping by to confess in front of all your friends; I seem to have had you, Mishari, tangled up with my dear but shadowy former flyting partner.

    For some months, my retorts and petty remonstrances which I believed to be well-aimed at his distinctively crafted verses under various pseudonyms ah… now it seems to me that those verses have been yours. It’s a bit embarrassing. I first mistook ofile’s salvos in the same way, but we sorted it out directly. I can thank him for setting me on the right track now.

    The odd thing, which might make for some amelioration, is that I did love ‘bottle rocket’s’ mossy cavern poem, after which I believed you had disappeared without trace.

    I’m still new to blogs. I’ve been cheeky, and it’s my own fault if I’ve offended you. I can’t say I won’t do it again, because your verses are so provocative, but if I’m impertinent in future, it won’t be because of mistaken identity, well, not as likely.

    Whilst I’m humbling myself, if you’re there Vicar moBray, I hope you knew I was referring to the ‘fat arse’ of the English language (in terms of fitting an englyn), and not that of your own shapely person.

  40. mishari permalink*
    December 8, 2009 1:37 AM

    Hic- To be honest, I wasn’t really aware of any remonstrances and retorts aimed at me by you (it helps to be a bit thick sometimes) but even if I had been, I don’t take offence easily–especially not at good-natured raillery.

    Mossy cavern poem? Christ, I don’t even remember that one. Mind you, I actually remember very few poems that I posted under the God knows how many user names I’ve had–my own name, Ernest Stickley, DeSade, Shorty Rogers, Bud Powell, Tacitus, Bottle Rocket, Ozymandibles, Art Pepper, Arturo Pimiento, Arsene Lupin–and that’s just the ones I can remember off-hand.

    I remember other peoples poems, though.

    So there’s absolutely nothing whatsoever for you to apologise for or to feel sheepish about, I assure you. To me, you’re a clever, funny poster over at the Graunioad book blogs. That’s it.

    But you’re very welcome here and I hope you’ll drop by more often.

    Mowbray’s fat arse
    Is in a class
    Of its own

    It’s the pride
    Of Ryde
    And worth a pome.

  41. mishari permalink*
    December 8, 2009 4:44 PM

    Another bottle, M’syoo? The 1896 Calvados? An excellent choice, M’syoo…ay, vwahla…

    Now… where was I?

    Ah, yes…usernames. Thing is, Polly, after I got banned under my real name, I just tended to get bored with the various usernames I adopted.

    I never indulged in sock-puppetry. I posted under one name at a time and never made the slightest effort to disguise myself. All the old lags knew it was me, though I can see how it might have confused new-comers.

    It was the ever delightful atf who got me banned by complaining to the imbecile mods that I had been ‘bullying’ her pal susanabrams. When I pointed out to the mods that this was utter bollocks, they conceded that it was, in fact, bollocks but that I was now banned for signing up under a new username.

    In other words, I was banned for something I did after I was banned. Logic from the home of the ‘Think Pod’ and the Editor in Chief who loses £40 million a year but still gets a ‘bonus’..

    Typical of the craven half-wits they employ as mods. Never admit to making a mistake. It still rankles, the way injustices do.

    BTW, speaking of the endlessly fecund susanabrams, here’s a taste of her latest work:

    In Malaysia, while loyal to my land of birth, I stay awed by a restless spirit that provokes about me, an air of deep conjecture and mystery for the faraway and reckless. I am unsure of why my footsteps hurry me on, while linking one puzzle into the silent waiting gap of another complicated one with the utmost ease.

    Like a box of crayons where one brazen colour may erase a meeker shade without sympathy, I run to where cultures top religion and landscapes melt into the sea. I embrace hills that grow on mountains and linger at airports which catch the skies. I can never understand why nor the time and hour that may seem so detrimental to others but which stay hospitable to me.

    …now that’s what I call prose…or something.

  42. MeltonMowbray permalink
    December 8, 2009 4:01 PM

    It isn’t that fat, though I have noticed people no longer beg for a glimpse of it. I suppose it’s been sat on a fair bit since those halcyon days.

    I rather enjoy personal abuse, Hic, so no problem on my part. Nice to see you here, though I am a little shocked to hear you speak of the habitues of this place as the Prince’s friends . I thought he showed marvellous self-restraint in allowing your faux pas to go without comment, but let me point out that we are merely his sidekicks. Anything else would be lese-majeste.

  43. December 8, 2009 4:19 PM

    If Mowbray were northern it would have to be about his “ass”.

    Apparently “Smoggie” is a term not entirely endearing to the Middlesbrough folk, as my other half discovered to his chagrin (and bodily injury) on the weekend. So best not to use it I think.

    hic8ubique, you should stop worrying because if he’s going to go round wearing so many masks then it really is his own fault, and he likes the sport of a good argument anyway.

    Mish I wondered which alternative names you were using on the GU, I’ve often suspected that one or two of those might have been you, but then I was never sure. That explains some grumblings a few months ago with you as Bottlerocket, I think, but as long as you weren’t upset by them, then I wasn’t (bygones being bygones and all that) :-)

    After some initial entanglements with some sensitive types earlier in the year, I’ve come to treat everyone as if they could be anybody (after all we could pretend to be each other couldn’t we? Anyone could sign in with similar names or adapt the same writing style, cloning pseudonyms must be very easy) and not take any particular persona for granted, but that does sometimes make me feel out of the group though. And I think that’s where that frustration came from Mish because I treat each thread as new, whereas some of you carry on your exchanges from other places.

  44. MeltonMowbray permalink
    December 8, 2009 4:36 PM

    Thought you’d be on the Marrakesh Express by now, Ed. [On the Paris-Madrid Express, actually–Ed.]

  45. hic8ubique permalink
    December 8, 2009 4:58 PM

    So, Pollyanna, I remember that thread sentiment expressed by pinkerbell; you are she as well? It all turns out for the best.

    Vicar~ I make fox paws left and right.
    When indulging in abusive side-kicks, I recommend knocks to the lateral malleoli and jabs to the floating ribs. Enjoy!

    I’m grateful for your equanimity, but you might have noticed my repartee! There I fancied myself so saucy, and it’s all business as usual for you and the side-kickers.
    The mossy cavern poem was one of your last posts as ‘bottle’ and I was really struck by the beauty of it. Don’t lose it!
    Thanks,I shall indeed look in again…

    Curiosity has cost me
    several allotted lives
    like Henry
    running through his wives.

  46. hic8ubique permalink
    December 8, 2009 5:11 PM

    “Disoriented Purple Passage to Malaysia” ?

  47. mishari permalink*
    December 8, 2009 5:31 PM

    hic-I have absolutely no memory of a ‘mossy cavern’ poem. I don’t suppose you remember where and when (roughly) it appeared? Now I’m intrigued…

    BTW, earlier, I saw a chap, kneep deep in a large wooden vat, trousers rolled up, vigorously stomping. I’m convinced it was HLM, treading out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored (or possibly doing the family laundry). Poor bugger. My heart went out to him. I waved (discreetly) but he was pre-occupied..

  48. freep permalink
    December 8, 2009 6:47 PM

    Well, I’m not a sidekick. I know better than that. Caliphs, with their bejewelled scimitars, have a nasty habit of removing foreskins by way of entertainment. Beasts, those caliphs, with their Temples of Melody devoted to the seduction of Souls.

  49. December 8, 2009 7:17 PM

    Given that I’m accused of being casually racist this week I’ll put myself down as a casual sidekick if I may.

    atf must be top of Channel Four’s 100 top devil’s advocates. I completely understand the need to go against the grain once in a while but defending De Valera for paying respects to Hitler was a step too far. I can only think atf’s innate stubbornness and unwillingness to back down kept the argument going. I can’t believe even she believed what she was writing.

    I had a big flaming row with her on wordnerd’s blog when I reported that a cousin of mine who did health work in sub-Saharan Africa had complained about the difficulty of doing any anti-HIV work when the Catholic Church were nearby as any advice to use condoms was immediately contradicted by advice not to use them. Resulting in confusion and further infection. As you might imagine this touched a nerve.

  50. December 8, 2009 8:06 PM

    Is the cat portrayed actually Pongo? – I had a notion that Pongo was white.

    I see Sam Jordison still knows how to get the comment counter ticking over.

  51. hic8ubique permalink
    December 8, 2009 8:07 PM

    I’ve found it on the PP history.
    False alarm on the mossy caverns–
    slippery chasms. I misremembered. No moss growing on the fast moving.I still find it amazing…

    History, n. an account mostly false, of events mostly unimportant, which are brought about by rulers, mostly knaves, and soldiers, mostly fools.Ambrose Bierce, The Devil’s Dictionary

    Knaves and Fools: A Bastard Sestina

    Observe the ruins of the past,
    Of bad ideas and love gone cold,
    Of hopes and dreams that never last,
    That die before they’re even old:
    Their fall is hard and fast and steep
    And history’s grave is dark and deep.

    Ideals of youth, like youth grow old,
    The hottest flame burns out at last
    And love’s warm embers soon grow cold
    And turn to ashes like the past:
    The murk that hides the path is deep,
    The way ahead is long and steep.

    And did you win the crown at last?
    And hold it till your throne grew old?
    And passing brave as they rode past,
    Your armies (all now dead and cold)?
    The way to dusty death is steep,
    Oblivion is cruel and deep.

    The star-rimed night is sharp and cold,
    The light you see is from the past,
    Shed by a star that’s weak and old,
    Tonight’s bright glint might be its last:
    Its mass sinks slowly in the deep,
    Forever there to stew and steep.

    Try to flee the grasping past
    That drags you back into the cold,
    To claim you for its own at last
    Just as it did the kings of old:
    The slope is slippery, sly and steep,
    The chasm opens, broad and deep.

    And slowly time itself grows old
    And turns upon its heart at last,
    To find there’s nothing left but cold;
    The black charred cauldron of the past:
    The sides are pitted, rough and steep,
    And drowning time becomes the deep.


    The past consumes itself at last,
    Renewed in cold, reshapes the old:
    From the deep, the climb is steep.

  52. mishari permalink*
    December 8, 2009 8:19 PM

    Ah, I remember it now. It wasn’t too bad, was it? I’m flattered you remembered it. I’m going to post a new poetry task in a minute, to last until the new year. I hope you’ll give us one of yours. Of course, there’s no rush.

    No but it looks just like him, obooki…and he’s as black as his evil little heart.

    As for Jordison’s comment count, it’s because he always gets a link on the front page. You didn’t think it was the felicity of his prose, did you? Pffffffffff…..

  53. InvisibleJack permalink
    December 8, 2009 8:35 PM

    Hi all

    Personally, I gave up trying to keep track of you all ages ago. Anyways, I can hardly keep track of myself.

    Freep, is it unwise to assume that I’m safe from caliphs? I had my foreskin removed a long time ago. Or were you referring to a metaphorical foreskin?

    Someone over at Zephrine’s blog yesterday, by the name of OffsideInTahiti (probably one of you lot), referred to me as a psued. It was so playground teenagerish that it gave me a laugh. I suspect he was feeling a bit proprietory over haiku. The poor crathur. (Or, if you’re here, you poor crathur.)

    Jack Brae

  54. HenryLloydMoon permalink
    December 8, 2009 8:39 PM

    Twas I, Mish. Though we’ve never met I recognized a patrician, royal quality to the wave, and returned it with good heart and a PG certificate curse to consolidate my honest man-of-toil persona. Perversely, I’ve been keeping my head down through seven thin cows of working weeks and fat red bull weekends, and only now has “paid work” reared its head again.

    Jack, that was offie, and he probably spelled it “pseud”, knowing him. There is no higher praise on that particular blog.

    Must continue typing inanities. So what’s new…

  55. HenryLloydMoon permalink
    December 8, 2009 8:42 PM

    Oh, right. Sudoku. Never did manage to finish one of those…

  56. InvisibleJack permalink
    December 8, 2009 9:15 PM

    Thanks HLM,

    Much appreciated. Now I feel less berated. So now he’s a lovely crathur, so he is. By the way, File has just done a wonderful photo-haiga with that same haiku over on his blog. He did one just previously as well, and I’m very proud of both of them.

    But now, to abolish my pride, I see that Mish has set us a new task, and therefore must attend to that. Something to do with taking clothes off of other people, and possibly ourselves as well. Possiblities, no doubt, for the flaunting of metaphorical foreskins…

    Jack Brae

  57. MeltonMowbray permalink
    December 8, 2009 9:28 PM

    So they fobbed you off with the ’96? Excellent! Jean-Paul must have put that crate of ’95 under the bar. Tell him the Des O’Connor tickets are in the post.

    Sorry, freep, I meant to exclude you from the sidekick pool, along with Al, Exit, Jack, HLM and Poll. And Mr Steven Augustine. And PR. Oh, and obooki etc etc

  58. December 10, 2009 12:39 AM

    Officially, when going by my full title, I am a sidekick am I not? Even if only to allow me to crack a wry smile at the fact that certain oversensitive types thought I was some kind of snake in the grass (or more precisely a trojan horse), rather that someone just hanging about here for a laugh. I was very proud of being called a trojan horse, it was a feat of engineering after all.

    Not sure about nude poetry, either in the nude or about nudes… there’s a possibility it will turn in to filth, or just a lot of poetry about Mowbray’s ass (?)

  59. December 10, 2009 12:42 AM

    “rather thaN” I should have said. I rarely have any sort of valid point at the best of times, but I invalidate it still further through bad typing…

  60. December 10, 2009 2:12 PM

    Jack, Jack, you have misunderstood. The original regulars on Other Stuff all came from another site called Pseudscorner, where bloggers habitually refer to themselves as pseuds. It’s not an insult, it’s a compliment as HLM says, or at least a kind of badge of membership.

    OffsideinTahiti, offie for short, doesn’t use any other names as far as I know. He’s French and is actually in Tahiti, unless he’s away on holiday.

  61. MeltonMowbray permalink
    December 10, 2009 4:31 PM

    You speak as though poetry concerning my posterior is undesirable, Poll. I’m deeply hurt.

    I assume that similar conventions to the ones Zeph outlines for Otherstuff also apply here, Jack (though the blog monarch would have to confirm that, of course). So when freep or Al or Exit refer to you as a ‘snivelling fuckwit’ take it as a compliment. I rarely use foul language myself, of course (it’s a mark of the inarticulate, after all), so I don’t think there’ll be any misunderstanding betwixt us, you knob.

  62. Polly permalink
    December 10, 2009 8:32 PM

    Sorry Mowbray, I’m sure your bum is worth many a verse…

  63. pinkroom permalink
    December 10, 2009 10:40 PM

    The Mowbray’s Bum School? This could run and run…

    May I be the first to be deposit something… a humble clerihew perhaps?

    Mowbray’s ass?
    Has passed much gas.
    But his poems, through fruity,
    are the juiciest booty.

  64. Captain Ned permalink
    December 11, 2009 9:40 AM

    His massive arse we must not waste
    When time’s come for our friend to die;
    Let the starving hordes have a taste
    Of Melton Mowbray Longpig Pie.

  65. MeltonMowbray permalink
    December 11, 2009 1:03 PM

    A thickish slice, on a bed
    of pickled cabbage, grated coarse,
    and, a la mode de Captain Ned,
    an Anusol and scabies sauce.

  66. HenryLloydMoon permalink
    December 11, 2009 1:10 PM

    Perched in the buffet wilderness
    and hard to reach sans tongs and spoon,
    the piece remains intact and -yes-
    bound for salads’ last chance saloon

  67. mishari permalink*
    December 11, 2009 1:42 PM

    Mowbray’s arse, when stuffed (don’t ask)
    Provides a massive festive feast
    But then we face the ghastly task:
    Left-over carcase of the beast.

    Anusol and scabies sauce? You’ve been watching that Heston Blumenthal again, haven’t you?

  68. December 11, 2009 2:07 PM

    Mishari, do not despair
    Or get in a flurry,
    For Mowbray’s posterior
    We’ll make in to curry.

  69. December 11, 2009 2:14 PM

    MM’s backside makes me go eek
    Especially if I turn it into
    Bubble and squeak.

    Polly your worst nightmares have come true I fear.

  70. December 11, 2009 2:41 PM

    Yep. That’s it. THAT’S what keeps me awake all night…

  71. December 11, 2009 3:21 PM

    EU Food standards regulators
    Have Mowbray’s pie discussed
    For whilst the pork content is high
    They’re nervous of the crust

  72. December 11, 2009 5:02 PM

    The credit crunch is biting
    Interest rates are high
    But nothing is more pressing
    Than the hunt for Mowbray’s pie.

    It broke free from its moorings
    The rope broke oh so easily
    It’s believed to be at large.
    Well what else would it be.

    CID have been alerted
    TV chefs are being bussed in
    The word on the street has it thus
    Mowbray’s pie is disgustin’

    They thought they’d cornered it in Barnet
    It slopwed off to hide elsewhere
    A TV plea from the Missus
    Tried to lure it from its lair.

    With a well run po-lice action
    And a tip from a culinary grass
    The ingredients of the pie
    And anonymously
    Found their way back on Mowbray’s arse

  73. freep permalink
    December 11, 2009 6:24 PM

    In the gloaming
    I see the shadow,
    a pie,
    Midland confection.

    Fourteen horses and
    a decaying cardinal
    pronounce it

    For it has false
    and a crust
    through lies and

    It is a pie
    made in Rutland.

    Only Mowbray,
    rotund fabricator,
    tells it
    how it is.

  74. pinkroom permalink
    December 11, 2009 6:41 PM

    I must declare an interest at this point that in my youth I actually briefly participated in the industrial manufacture of Melton Mowbray Pork Pies.

    How to make your Melton bum

    The so-called meat
    goes in the mix,
    nipple of pig
    those chew-proof bits.

    Next goes on
    the coat of pastry,
    baked in ovens,
    waxy but’tasty

    but whilst the pastry
    gently grows,
    the “pork” inside
    shrinks and slows;

    so the last job,
    vile, I’ll tell ye,
    is squirting in
    a tot of jelly,

    warm at first,
    it then congeals;
    your “Mowbray” bum
    safely sealed.

  75. InvisibleJack permalink
    December 11, 2009 6:57 PM

    An Ode To The God-Bum Mowbray

    The thing known as the Mowbray Arse
    is methane thin, mysterious;
    over distance, under ocean,
    its thunders cause a great commotion.

    Not like, indeed, that fuckwit Jack,
    whose head, though big, a brain does lack,
    and at the merest hint of “pseud”
    will conjure insults misconstrued.

    So mock the Mowbray’s bum no more,
    or hint that anu solves the sore,
    for Mowbray’s arse a Cosmos is:
    it’s immense, enormous, His.

    Jack Brae Curtingstall

  76. InvisibleJack permalink
    December 11, 2009 7:05 PM

    And now, deeply humbled and sorely humiliated for my fuckwittedness, I will slink off into the other corner and attempt a poem on nudity. (But not, Heaven forefend, of the Mowbray kind. I think his poor bottom has been penetrated enough.)

    Jack Brae

  77. MeltonMowbray permalink
    December 11, 2009 7:31 PM

    My arse has never been more popular. I shall convey all your thoughts to it next time I’m in touch.

    Sorry to hear that you’ve been clipped, Jack, also visited on me by my bloody parents in the early 50s. An American import at that time, I believe, and very fashionable for a while – it was about 50/50 when I was at school. I rarely see another chap in the nude nowadays so I don’t know what the current statistics are. I knew a fellow who had to be taken to hospital for emergency snipping after getting horribly snagged whilst twobacking with a girl in a tent. They had to be separated by the ambulance men. A judgement, really – they weren’t married, of course.

  78. MeltonMowbray permalink
    December 11, 2009 11:28 PM

    I see Dr Rosen has returned from the Bologna Book Festival. His Italian sojourn has not made him any more pithy in his observations. Three paragraphs seems to be the bare minimum he can manage. Where does he find all those thoughts? I exist on one, or perhaps one and a half, a week, and, after consideration, I often find I have thought them before. I marvel at his fertility.

    All hail to you, Doctor Rosen!
    You are a master of prosin’.

  79. pinkroom permalink
    December 12, 2009 12:16 AM

    I have now responded to his pith mm and would indeed be interested to know if the poem he’s pimping is in his new kids anthology (puffin 7.99 – cheaper on Amazon according to his webpages) It is quite clearly a classic of gay literature as any fule can see.

    What irks me most (among lots of things) is that every post he makes always contains a socialist worker c.1978 pop at softcop teachers, oppressing ver kids, wiv there y’know, prescriptions. One strongly suspects he had a bad experience at the hands of some tweed-suited educator back in the day, as they say these days.

    Never mind. Back to the bum poems.

  80. mishari permalink*
    December 12, 2009 12:42 AM

    Rosen is an insufferable twit. His best known work, The Little Rabbit Foo Foo (pauses for quick vomit) was not only not original (cribbed from an old children’s rhyme) but, according to Rosie, was ‘written’ in collaboration with others.

    It’s like having ‘collaborators’ to write a fucking shopping list. I’m almost tempted to have a go at the twerp just for the fun of seeing him flounce off in a huff to Bologna Book Fair (or wherever Jordan-fanciers gather at this time of year), as he did the last time we ‘engaged’.

    The moon of Mowbray’s arse shines bright
    Upon the City and its bankers
    For he’s been up most of the night
    Penning Mowbray’s Guide To Wankers.

  81. December 12, 2009 10:52 AM

    As someone who does collaborate in their chosen art-form ( I use the term art-form loosely here )I thought Rosen’s idea of collaborators in writing COULD have been interesting but he seemed determined to attach the concept to Jordan rather than say, the grand tradition of fairy stories where the individual hand of an author shapes a well-known tale.

    As Jordan’s prime concern seems to be about marketting her life-style into a money-making empire we had no option but to hound him off to Bologna for his unenlightening views.

    Though in his defence I did hear him do a fantastic radio programme with grieving kids that played it note-perfect. No easy thing to do.

  82. InvisibleJack permalink
    December 12, 2009 1:10 PM

    My personal response to Rosen, and this is merely in terms of his writing, is that he’s a piss-poor poet who got lucky. Being piss-poor needn’t necessarily be a life-long problem, but Rosen hasn’t progressed from the piss-poor since the beginning of his career. Children deserve better. We all do.

    Jack Brae

  83. pinkroom permalink
    December 12, 2009 1:21 PM

    Second that Al, he does grief well… his sad book was very well judged and his kiddy pomes can be very funny. but it always irks me more when people with talent, and a heart generally in the right place then go and start to play the pasha, or act like an idiot.

    He seems to have a particular down on teachers… heard a hilarious story about an out of control lambasting of the staff of a school who had failed to show him due deference, prepare their kids for his visit et cet. Strange as his folks were top drawer educationists.

  84. freep permalink
    December 12, 2009 1:28 PM

    I haven’t come across any of Rosen’s poems that were other than very lightweight. Now and again his poems for children – which he obviously enjoys writing a lot – come dangerously close to patronising them. Others, though should make them laugh a lot. But like Al, I’ve heard him on the radio talking sense. For all that he lambasts teachers from time to time, I suspect he’s a pretty good teacher. I wouldn’t go so far as the Caliph in calling him an insufferable twit, but I have seen no convincing evidence of any major skill at poetry. Kids like dark poetry as much as sunny.

  85. December 12, 2009 2:12 PM

    my partner did a spell of voluntary one-to-one reading with a child from a difficult background who was struggling at school and she found the Rosen poems really struck a chord whereas other poets passed the boy by ( perhaps Pound’s Cantos weren’t such a good idea ) so I’m undecided.

  86. mishari permalink*
    December 12, 2009 2:14 PM

    I must accept that there is some good in Herr Doktor Rosen, if people whose judgement I respect, i.e. you lot, tell me so.

    However, my only exposure to the man was on that thread where he attempted to defend Jordan’s right to be called an ‘author’, despite her not having written a book (or in Private Eye’s words: the first best-selling author to have ‘written’ more books than she’d read).

    His behaviour and attitude (very much a de haut en bas affair, in his view), got up my nose in a quite spectacular way. His lack of intellectual rigour coupled with a tendency to hysteria made the whole thing vastly amusing.

    One only had to point out a fallacious point in his argument (and almost all his points were) and he went the Michael Winner Do-You-Know-Who-I-Am? route.

    His exasperated parting shot, mainly aimed at MM and me, I think (I don’t have to talk to you little people anymore; I’m off the the Bologna Book Fair) was a classic of its kind.

    Hence my ‘insufferable twerp’ jibe. What was that line of Auden’s? Something like: public faces in private places are much nicer than private faces in public places?

  87. pinkroom permalink
    December 12, 2009 10:15 PM

    I think the precise words Do-You-Know-Who-I-Am? actually figured in the lambasting of the school that, among other things, greeted him through their @deputy@ headteacher.

  88. December 13, 2009 10:12 AM

    He’s a Respect man too isn’t he? Oh dear.

  89. December 13, 2009 2:39 PM

    I had a book of his poems when I was little. I liked it a lot; I still remember a few of them vividly. Whether they were ‘good’ or not, I’ve no idea. But they’ve certainly stayed with me.

    If he’s become rather imperious now, that seems the effect that influence and praise has on an awful lot of successful, creative people.

  90. December 14, 2009 1:53 PM

    When published writers turn up below-the-line and comment under their own names – on something connected with their work, not on football or good holiday destinations – it provokes a mixed response in me, I find. Does one expect their offerings to be in some way superior to those of other posters? Does one respect them a bit less for hanging out in a comment thread? Does one expect them to be more polite and charming than the rest of the rabble? And is one more critical of them if they turn out to be just another opinionated joe with time on his hands, like all the rest of us?

    Does the fact that Rosen comments as himself rather than as ‘kiddiepome’ or ‘HackneyWriter’ show him to be honest, or conceited? And if he’d written the same comments under a pseudonym, would you find them equally annoying?

    I have no answers to these questions; just asking.

  91. December 14, 2009 3:56 PM

    Btw, I meant the above to be about a public site like the Guardian. Private blogs are a different matter, I think.

  92. December 14, 2009 4:01 PM

    It’s a head scratcher I think Zeph. Due to a computer glitch last year I was posting under my real name Edward Taylor. I let people know what had happened but bar one PotW regular who tried to out me for my “deceit” most people didn’t like my real name and preferred to call me Alarming.

    Anyone else completely underwhelmed by a BBC4 prog about Nabokov last night? It took an hour of shots of some bloke riding around in taxis to tell us about 10 minutes of interesting stuff.

  93. mishari permalink*
    December 14, 2009 4:26 PM

    Further to my mission to spread what evangelicals call the ‘Good News’, if anyone wants a copy of the complete Breaking Bad, email your postal address to:

    I’m back in London next weekend and I’ll pass them along. Zeph? Ned? Freep? HLM? Sean? Anyone? It’ll save you having to watch the cavalcade of dross that is Christmas TV…

    In the meantime, here’s a great song from Mick Harvey (a name that’ll be familiar to Nick Cave fans) that features in the show:

  94. December 19, 2009 1:07 PM

    para your analysis of my comments is well wide of the mark. Well wide. Since you won’t argue off-line despite my offer, presumably as casually calling people racist is better when playing to a gallery I’ll offer my “defense”.

    My comment was that in the light of their current predicament – housed in projects in Perth, having the indignity of having to have their own land recently “given” back to them by an apparently generous Australian government as well as much more terrible stuff ( see Rabbit Proof Fence, Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith and indeed the writer you linked me to who describes the treatment of his people as “genocide” etc. etc. ) the readings I heard from an Aboriginal chief about their non-proprietorial, give and take attitude to the land MIGHT be sadly out-dated in a country where farmers have fenced off and own most of the land that they used to wander freely across.

    Here’s a comment from a Perth dweller from a Marina Hyde thread about Lindsey Lohan being a cultural tourist. Not a sock puppet of mine but, presumably, concerned by what’s happened/happening. As am I.

    “It’s all politics for you.

    Here in Australia, we have Third World conditions for indigenous Australians. But who gives a damn? Certainly no celebrities from the white Western world. It would be too politically incorrect to for a celebrity to highlight that the richest country in the Western World, with the highest GDP per head of population, can’t even provide basic sanition for it’s own people and health care for their own people.

    I think it is either Oxfam or a similar type of organisation that have started a scheme to sponser a child (as it does for India) as condition are so bad. So-called Third World conditions of poverty and hunger are seen here such as beriberi.

    Even better, come to Perth, my neck of the woods in Western Australia. The richest state in the Federation, the state capital boasting more millionaires than any were esle with some of the most applaling conditions in the world.

    Who cares? It’s not sexy enough for our white celebs!”

    Yes of course they aren’t all stuck at the bottom but you only need to watch The Wire about the American black situation to see that although many have thrived those at th bottom are still well at the bottom with no light at the end of the tunnel.

    Touchy about my background? How little you understand dry humour.

  95. Parallax permalink
    December 19, 2009 2:11 PM

    Oh thanks for confirming you’re ‘not in touch with’ sensibilities and quoting who? another Alarming cultural tourist perspective. What – if anything – does your ‘cut’n’paste’ offer? Fuck all… your paste from who knows? says:
    “Here’s a comment from a Perth dweller from a Marina Hyde thread”

    WTF- why are you positioning your argument in a white celeb voice? why is this remotely relevant? Oh right, you imagine koori is always valued or dismissed through colonial eyes. That’s your position? – well, just fuck off!!

    Live here; do something, apart from stroking your white supremacy – don’t fucking comment unless you know something about the place – you know fuck-all Alarming – stop back-pedalling and pretending you have a high moral colonial ground. Seriously, stick with your puppets mates. It may help you in Europe – and over here it might stop you looking like a pretentious cunt.

  96. mishari permalink*
    December 19, 2009 2:25 PM

    OK, para…now you are out of order. I read your remarks on olching’s blog, with your casual ‘BNP dickhead’ and ‘racist’ jibes. You insult me by implying that ‘artistic collegiality’ persuades me to tolerate such things. It’s a contemptible and deeply offensive thing to say and I expect an apology.

    Worse, you’re behaving like all the Zionist cheerleaders on CiF who de-value the term ‘anti-semite’ by accusing anyone they disagree with of being anti-semitic, ditto the lefty-liberal pinheads who toss around accusations of ‘fascism’ as though it were an unfortunate social condition, like halitosis, as opposed to a genuinely dangerous political ideology.

    You disagree with Al on some point? Fine. But I expect you to maintain the decency of civilised debate; turn down the nasty hysteria and the insults or fuck off.

  97. December 19, 2009 2:36 PM

    oh dear you’re not reading what I wrote again. The post is taken from a thread by writer Marina Hyde about cultural tourists like Lindsay Lohan. It’s a comment from someone below the line who lives in Perth and who is presumably either concerned about what’s going on OR is a fuckwit like you would seem to have it.

    Still good to know all is well in Australia and that anyone not from the country is not allowed even to mention that the indigenous people are not all having a life of roses. But it seems from the quote I offered above that even those who live there aren’t allowed to rock the boat either.

    Again why it’s racist to comment on these inequalities I have no idea. By doing so it doesn’t mean I think that the Aborigines are helpless dependents on charity with no unfiltered voices of their own and with a rich cultural history . Just as if I criticise the treatment of the Palestinians it doesn’t mean I think they are a bunch of passive lambs awaiting slaughter.

    I trust you are likewise silent about the many other injustices in other places in the world where you don’t live.

  98. Parallax permalink
    December 19, 2009 3:02 PM

    ok mish I understand your support for Alarming (old white [or aspiring to be white]….

    [I’ve deleted the rest of this gratuitously insulting and deranged post, the first time in this blogs existence that I’ve ever done such a thing unless at the poster’s request. What does that tell you? You’ve crossed a line. When I said ‘fuck off’, para, I meant it. Now fuck off…

    Come back when you’re rational again and you’re ready to apologise or don’t come back at all.-Ed.]

  99. mishari permalink*
    December 19, 2009 4:50 PM

    And so I move on to the phrase which is now becoming a cliché: anti-Semitism. It is not a cliché – it was certainly never intended to be – but those who use this phrase to assault any decent person who dares to criticise Israel are turning it into one. They are making anti-Semitism respectable – and shame upon them for it.

    The latest idiot to assist the anti-Semites is Labour MP Denis MacShane who last month condemned Channel 4’s Dispatches programme on Britain’s Israel lobby with the words: “anti-Semitic politics is back”.

    I should perhaps add that this is the same man who, as Minister for Europe, defended Blair’s criminal intention to go to war in Iraq with the admonition to fellow European politicians that sometimes people were in need of “a guide”.

    He had obviously forgotten that the German for “guide” is Führer.
    Robert Fisk, The Independent, today

    para is just the latest in a long line of 'guides' who seek to 'correct' what they perceive to be 'incorrect thought' and demonise people who might think differently as 'racists' and 'aspiring whites'.

    The only evidence poor deluded para could come up with to justify these jibes was my liking for Kipling and my insistence that he moderate his language, language that is, in its irrational nastiness, simply the toxic flip-side of Nick Griffin/BNP-style vituperation.

    What can one do with such people except ignore them and hope they come to their senses?

  100. MeltonMowbray permalink
    December 19, 2009 8:42 PM

    I’m pleased to hear you don’t think I’m a racist, para, but that seems a less than ringing endorsement when you also appear to consider that I’m happy to share space with a ‘BNP dickhead’ and ‘casual racist’. To be absolutely clear, I would be most unhappy if that was the case: in fact I would have cleared off long since. Draw your own conclusions.

  101. December 20, 2009 12:19 PM

    Does anybody want to borrow a handbag?

  102. mishari permalink*
    December 20, 2009 12:23 PM

    Why? Does my lippy need touching up?

  103. MeltonMowbray permalink
    December 20, 2009 12:25 PM

    It’s to put over your head.

  104. mishari permalink*
    December 20, 2009 12:27 PM

    …or to batter yours with, you cheeky scoundrel.

  105. December 20, 2009 12:32 PM

    Polly yes please. what’s it got in it?

  106. December 20, 2009 5:59 PM

    Here’s a useful and enlightening page:

  107. December 20, 2009 7:00 PM

    I was thinking of some kind of handbags at dawn scenario approaching. I have some good sturdy bags perfect for duelling…

  108. mishari permalink*
    December 20, 2009 7:12 PM

    Just to clarify, has anything on this blog ever led you to think any of us are ‘racists’, ‘white supremacists’ or ‘BNP dickheads’, Zeph?

    To be sure, the link you provide is a compendium of good sense and ignoring this sort of thing would be my preferred option…on any other forum; but on my own blog, I don’t think I have that luxury. I have an obligation to step on that kind of poisonous gibberish.

    Anyway, I don’t permit chippy Aussie hysterics to call me a racist because I like Kipling and won’t tolerate them making vile, unsubstantiated remarks about other posters.

  109. December 20, 2009 9:22 PM

    Zeph – good advice and useful to put it in context. I did try some of those tactics and even offered to take it ( as it were ) outside this blog but to no avail. When one party is intent on playing to the gallery in the hope I suppose of picking up some stray support from passers-by it was only going to head in one direction.

    I work outdoors and have heard most of it before and worse but it’s stil extremely unpleasant to be called things that you are actively not with no dialogue being possible.

    Any chance of a cat blog Mishari?

  110. MeltonMowbray permalink
    December 21, 2009 12:07 AM

    I haven’t noticed anything of a racist nature on this blog. I read through the para-Al exchanges several times without seeing what the problem was (though I think the term ‘Aborigine’ is now seen as demeaning): para’s only specific charge seemed to be that you shouldn’t make comments about the culture of countries you have only visited, which is silly as well as repressive.

    atf thinks I’m anti-Irish, which causes me a lot of pain. What some people do seem to have a blind spot for (including me, probably) is stereotyping. WN7’s ‘word-drunk Irish’ was a classic example, and I noticed Carol Rumens saying that ‘English people’ are envious of ‘Irish wit’ recently. How someone with such a subtle mind could be so idiotic is hard to understand.

  111. December 21, 2009 12:56 AM

    Nope, never noticed anything racist around here. I’m completely mystified as to how the whole spat has arisen.

    Myself, I think the line about ‘two nations separated by a common language’ applies to Australia/UK as much as USA/UK. On the GU cricket threads – where, as you can imagine, Australians are often about – there have been a number of heated misunderstandings resulting simply from different uses of language. Also from projecting of imagined attitudes, from both sides – perhaps that’s the problem here? Stereotyping, as MM says. We all do it to some extent.

    Well, season of peace and goodwill, and all that. Conflict resolution would be nice.

  112. December 21, 2009 9:03 AM

    I think as well with the crime of liking Kipling ( Mishari ) and Herzog ( me ) comes the idea that to like these artists means you agree with everything that they are saying.

    All very well but it conveniently ignores the fact that you might also like other artists whose views are contradictory to those two.

    Celine and Pound are very popular round these parts. Tom Clark ( of Beyond the Pale username fame round here ) has written a very humane book about Celine’s last years hasn’t he? Presumably we can label him too for even trying to put a human face to someone who got it spectacularly wrong in the end.

  113. December 21, 2009 9:22 AM

    As if summoned from beneath a stone by magic, Hello there, seasons greetings to all, such remarkable effusions of goodwill hath no one seen e’re long, the heart is warmed, the love flows, to Al, Zeph, Para, Polly Pinker, everyone — and Mish, this one is for you.

    (While we are on good cheer, Melton, up Pompey!)

  114. December 21, 2009 9:41 AM

    Thanks Tom. Seasons Greetings to you too.

    I’ll mention you more often if this is the effect!

  115. mishari permalink*
    December 21, 2009 3:03 PM

    Fucking airports. I hate fucking airports. Thanks a lot Eurostar. Anyway…

    Thanks, Tom. Hope you’re well and the festival of Blessed Consumerism doesn’t get you down…

  116. December 21, 2009 3:48 PM

    Consumerism. Argh. I’ve bunged 20 quid in the hospice charity box and told everyone they aren’t getting Christmas cards.

    So, anyway, Merry Christmas everyone!!!

  117. pinkroom permalink
    December 21, 2009 7:50 PM

    Wise words from Zeph here. Para seemed to accuse me of BNP leanings on the William Barnes potw thread. For better or worse I just let it pass because I know from bitter experience of my dealings with wordnerd that once somebody starts slinging the R word at you, you are always on the backfoot having to justify every off-hand remark, tongue in cheek response ever posted… that way madness lies.

    I had simply made the point viz Barnes that one of the strengths of dialect was it’s ability to exclude… what I had in mind was things like Roma canting, backslang etc. dialect as resistance, but para presumably saw my comment as supporting the powerful/mainstream against outsiders/oppressed groups. Fair comment/valid point. I had perhaps not considered that alternative reading or explained myself fully enough but to reach for the BNP button, “albeit” as a possible (question-marked) interpretation, is hardly sportin’. It might well be a misunderstanding, but round Gasworks green way, BNP types are not simply people prone to a spot of negligent stereotyping/unguarded chauvanism … I’m sure I need not explain the difference here.

    I think there needs to be a basic assumption that we are not racists or even worse fascists (if we were we would be soon found out wouldn’t we) but also a recognition that we are all human and products of very imperfect societies with our own blind-spots, wrinkles, stereotypical assumptions etc. The best way to iron these out is through friendly, respectful, and occasionally disrespectful, discussion/dialogue. To reach for the R, A-S or F word closes that possibility right down so I have to say I’m with our host in urging folks to be very circumspect in their use.

  118. December 21, 2009 9:33 PM

    If only we could admit that we are all sexist, lookist, fasco racists at heart, peering at the world through stereotyping goggles, suspecting most strangers (both like and unlike ourselves) of the worst possible hypothetical outrages against decorum, decency and the common good (until otherwise proven innocent)… we could find some common ground in that. It’s the Sanctimony that divides us, after all. As Utter Shits we are a species united, I feel. Can we not embrace this? A New Era might well then dawn.

  119. December 21, 2009 9:39 PM

    “ok mish I understand your support for Alarming (old white [or aspiring to be white]….”

    Wait. Alarming? A Quadroon in our midst, attempting to…?

  120. pinkroom permalink
    December 21, 2009 10:02 PM

    I expect you’re right SA… perhaps we should all learn to embrace our inner-shits a little more tenderly… good heavens, we could make a fortune with this… crap. Get weaving.

  121. December 21, 2009 10:09 PM

    Steven No quadroon I although as I don’t know who half my family are, being a true bastard in the dictionary sense of the word, I have no idea as to my genuine heritage. The “aspiring to be white” jibe was aimed at our bloghost Mishari for daring to not believe the white supremacist comments thrown my way on, I understand someone else’s blog. You’ve missed the equivalent of a racy soap opera here. I wish I had.

  122. mishari permalink*
    December 21, 2009 10:36 PM

    Jesus…pissing down in Madrid, cold as well. Never mind, train to Algeciras tomorrow, across the straits to blessed, erm…torrential downpours, actually. Why does God hate me? Is it because I’m a racist? Still, at least it’ll be warm…

    Steven, the ‘aspiring to be white’ jibe was aimed at me (and, I must assume, other non-white admirers of Kipling’s poetry). Does liking Ernst Jünger, Pound and Céline make me an aspiring Fascist? How about my love of Charlie Parker? Aspiring black man? Aspiring junkie? Does your love for a German woman make you an aspiring Kraut?

    If only we could admit that we are all sexist, lookist, fasco racists at heart…

    While I’m willing to concede that your remarks are true of Mowbray and his ilk, my own essential perfection contains no such flaws.

    As a Bodhisattva, motivated by pure compassion and love, I will undergo any type of suffering to help another sentient being, whether a tiny insect or a huge mammal (Mowbray, for example).

    It’s, like…a duty, man.

  123. December 21, 2009 10:45 PM

    Al, old friend, there’s no reason to pretend, in this day and age, that the unspeakable blood in your veins isn’t, erm… are you sure you aren’t just a *little* black? In a Tom Jones sort of…?

    Sorry I missed the fun, in any case. “Liberal” Whiteys who go to such swashbuckling extremes to protect us Darkies from harm are always fun in a cluelessnessier-than-thou sort of way. Frankly, I’d rather have a skinhead take an honest swing at me than have some well-meaning cnut with shining eyes ask me how Obama’s election has changed my life, but I suppose I’m in a minority.

    Not that you’re not a jackbooted golliwog-flogger after all, Al, but where’s the harm? Thing is, there are golliwogs who *want to be flogged*. Take my Uncle Walter. He’d have loved it. (Black bastard)

  124. December 21, 2009 10:51 PM

    Steven are we back in the blackmalefelon blog again?

  125. December 21, 2009 10:52 PM

    “Does your love for a German woman make you an aspiring Kraut?”

    She’s half-Italian. I *hate* Kr… (hmmmm. Better pull back on that one)…

    Funny, also, how “white” gets a different reading/definition in varying bits of the Anglophone diaspora, eh? You’re not in the club in the UK, M, but in the US (or most of it), you’re a Caucasian, old boy, and no questions asked. Para’s standards are clearly more stringent than those sloppy Yanks. I dated a descended-from-Hindus newscaster who was several shades darker (in her lightest bit, than my darkest bit… the bits, nevertheless, corresponded) and right there on her driver’s license it said “Caucasian”. And she grew up in Mississippi (before fleeing north) ferchrissakes.

  126. December 21, 2009 10:53 PM

    “Steven are we back in the blackmalefelon blog again?”

    Once you’ve tried black(malefelon), you never go back, Al.

  127. mishari permalink*
    December 21, 2009 11:01 PM

    To be sure, Steven. In the US, the racist will bend over backwards to assure a blue-black Dravidian that he/she is not, you know…black.

    It’s just a way of pretending that their racism isn’t really racism, it’s based on ‘sinetifik fax, boy…nigras are just less evolved’.

    Mercifully, here in the UK, some standards have been maintained. I’m a ‘wog’. Not that any fucker has ever said it to my face (or even within my hearing)…

  128. December 21, 2009 11:12 PM

    One of my fondest memories from the year 1972 was walking home, from junior high school, across a patch of desert in Vegas and having a red-nosed kid named Gallagher (looking like a pubescent Mick Hucknall, with curly brown hair, long before any of us knew what a Hucknall really looked like) circle me threateningly on a *horse* shouting “Are you a white boy or a niggra?” As long as we’re on the topic, I mean. The point being that I have a richer definition of the word “racism” for having experiences of that kind and people who fling the word casually should check with me first. Or the time Wendy H. (in 1983?) exclaimed “You really *are* black!” after seeing me trouserless for the very first time…. but that’s me bragging, innit?

  129. mishari permalink*
    December 21, 2009 11:14 PM

    You mean you’ve got a black dick? So, you only use it on formal occasions, then…

  130. December 21, 2009 11:15 PM

    Coppery. But horse-choking (if a horse were to, you know…)

  131. December 21, 2009 11:16 PM

    “So, you only use it on formal occasions, then…”

    I prefer the word “ritualistic”

  132. mishari permalink*
    December 21, 2009 11:17 PM

    I believe that comes under the heading of ‘a little too much information…’

    The trick with horses is to coat your wang with apple-sauce…just saying…

  133. December 21, 2009 11:17 PM

    (This convo is veering towards jockish homoeroticism, I fear. Not that there’s anything wrong with…)

  134. December 21, 2009 11:18 PM

    Peanut butter for dogs.

  135. December 21, 2009 11:20 PM

    Well, enough post-racialist bonding.

  136. mishari permalink*
    December 21, 2009 11:20 PM

    I’m going down to the bar, now. I may be some time…

  137. December 21, 2009 11:21 PM

    I’m going to lift weights and do carpentry and talk about cars with my wife.

  138. mishari permalink*
    December 21, 2009 11:25 PM

    Don’t forget to spit a lot and say things like ‘Dang, that gal has an ass like an onion…makes me wanna cry.’ You should pass…

  139. MeltonMowbray permalink
    December 22, 2009 12:22 AM

    I have the feeling that Para may be an indigenous Australian himself.

  140. mishari permalink*
    December 22, 2009 2:03 AM

    They say the great cornettist Buddy Bolden blew his brains out through his horn. Perhaps the same thing can happen to didgeridoo players?

    Oh, Christ…there I go…showing my white supremacist neo-colonialist aspiring white chap colours again.

  141. December 22, 2009 9:32 AM

    MM the thought occured to me too.

    But white supremacists are those who set up blogs like the blackmalefelon site ( Steven linked to it in the Vanishing point thread here ) in the twisted hope of stirring up white anger by posing as black militants who are unrepentant about black on white crime/murders not someone who likes Kipling or who omits to state everything they think about an issue in the shorthand world of blogs.

    • MeltonMowbray permalink
      December 22, 2009 12:05 PM

      I didn’t occur to me until his posts on this thread, Al. I certainly don’t think it would justify any of the remarks he made.

  142. December 22, 2009 10:24 AM

    Typological judgments, predispositions in denial of evidence, social aversions founded in biased and bigotted conceptions, and phobias xeno-and-other are surely deplorable, and beneath the dignity of the wise.

    Still one need not search far among the great minds to find the most curious and irrational prejudices in repeated efflorescence. Johnson’s unfortunate views on the Scots, their land and customs, for example. Boswell’s books abound with examples.

    “He would not allow Scotland to derive any credit from Lord Mansfield; for he was educated in England. ‘Much may be made of a Scotchman, if he be *caught* young.'”

    “Mr. Arthur Lee mentioned some Scotch who had taken possession of a barren part of America, and wondered why they would choose it. Johnson: ‘Why, Sir, all barrenness is comparative. The *Scotch* would not know it to be barren.'”

    “Your country consists of two things, stone and water. There is, indeed, a little earth above the stone in some places, but a very little; and the stone is always appearing. It is like a man in rags; the naked skin is still peeping out.”

    “What enemy would invade Scotland, where there is nothing to be got?”

    “Knowledge was divided among the Scots, like bread in a besieged town, to every man a mouthful, to no man a bellyful.”

    “Asked by a Scot what Johnson thought of Scotland: ‘That it is a very vile country, to be sure, Sir’ ‘Well, Sir! (replies the Scot, somewhat mortified), God made it.’ Johnson: ‘Certainly he did; but we must always remember that he made it for Scotchmen.'”

    To take only Johnson as an authority, one would imagine the Scots a crude, underdressed, uncultivated and unprepossessing lot indeed.

    Of such regrettable instances of undiscriminating stereotypical thinking in otherwise intelligent persons the historical catalogue is alas extensive.

    Faced with this sort of thing a stony intransigence is called for; one may finally say only: never accept it.

  143. freep permalink
    December 22, 2009 10:55 AM

    Tom: No doubt at all that Johnson liked to air his prejudices about the Scots. Sometimes it was to tease his companion Boswell, who was more than thirty years his junior. And Johnson was in later life a bit of a self-parody. But he knew too well that Scotland, and Edinburgh in particular, was full of sharp intelligences, quite the equal of his stuffy High Tory club in London. It’s why his Journey of a tour to the Western Islands is one of my favourite books – between the lines you see the great man of letters finding the wilderness of Highland Scotland (still, remember, a military zone after Culloden) full of surprises and jolts to his preconceptions. I agree that he was often undiscriminating, but luckily he had (the even more arch-Tory) Boswell at his elbow. So we know that J.’s household was good evidence of his generous humanity – his black servant whom he freed, sundry old crocks and quacks he supported, and innumerable writers (like Goldsmith) who he dragged out of the difficult gutters of Georgian London. My point is that what he did was often better than what he said.

    However, if your fundamental point is that nothing should displace respect for others in writing, it’s not possible to disagree. We are often full of contradictions. I allow myself to make jokes about Cockneys, Geordies and the Scots because I feel I belong to them. I tend to have less fun at the expense of Irish persons because even though I was brought up among them, I don’t feel close to their ways. As a frequent visitor to gaols and lunatic asylums, I feel happy bantering about their residents; but I don’t feel the same about ordinary hospitals or schools, which to me are alien institutions.

    Your penultimate sentence is formidably Johnsonian.

  144. mishari permalink*
    December 22, 2009 11:12 AM

    Macaulay’s summation of Boswell the man and Boswell the writer, as unjust as it may be (and I’m not saying it is) never fails to give me pleasure:

    We are not sure that there is in the whole history of the human intellect so strange a phænomenon as this book (Boswell’s Life Of Johnson).

    Many of the greatest men that ever lived have written biography. Boswell was one of the smallest men that ever lived, and he has beaten them all. He was, if we are to give any credit to his own account or to the united testimony of all who knew him, a man of the meanest and feeblest intellect.

    Johnson described him as a fellow who had missed his only chance of immortality by not having been alive when the Dunciad was written. Beauclerk used his name as a proverbial expression for a bore.

    He was the laughing-stock of the whole of that brilliant society which has owed to him the greater part of its fame. He was always laying himself at the feet of some eminent man, and begging to be spit upon and trampled upon.

    He was always earning some ridiculous nickname, and then “binding it as a crown unto him,” not merely in metaphor, but literally. He exhibited himself, at the Shakspeare Jubilee, to all the crowd which filled Stratford-on-Avon, with a placard round his hat bearing the inscription of Corsica Boswell. In his Tour, he proclaimed to all the world that at Edinburgh he was known by the appellation of Paoli Boswell.

    Servile and impertinent, shallow and pedantic, a bigot and a sot, bloated with family pride, and eternally blustering about the dignity of a born gentleman, yet stooping to be a talebearer, an eavesdropper, a common butt in the taverns of London, so curious to know every body who was talked about, that, Tory and high Churchman as he was, he manoeuvred, we have been told, for an introduction to Tom Paine, so vain of the most childish distinctions, that when he had been to court, he drove to the office where his book was printing without changing his clothes, and summoned all the printer’s devils to admire his new ruffles and sword; such was this man, and such he was content and proud to be.

    If he had not been a great fool, he would never have been a great writer. Without all the qualities which made him the jest and the torment of those among whom he lived, without the officiousness, the inquisitiveness, the effrontery, the toad-eating, the insensibility to all reproof he never could have produced so excellent a book.

    Of the talents which ordinarily raise men to eminence as writers, Boswell had absolutely none. There is not in all his books a single remark of his own on literature, politics, religion, or society, which is not either commonplace or absurd.

    His dissertations on hereditary gentility, on the slave-trade, and on the entailing of landed estates, may serve as examples. To say that these passages are sophistical would be to pay them an extravagant compliment. They have no pretence to argument, or even to meaning. He has reported innumerable observations made by himself in the course of conversation.

    Of those observations we do not remember one which is above the intellectual capacity of a boy of fifteen. He has printed many of his own letters, and in these letters he is always ranting or twaddling. Logic, eloquence, wit, taste, all those things which are generally considered as making a book valuable, were utterly wanting to him.

    He had, indeed, a quick observation and a retentive memory. These qualities, if he had been a man of sense and virtue, would scarcely of themselves have sufficed to make him conspicuous; but, because he was a dunce, a parasite, and a coxcomb, they have made him immortal.

  145. freep permalink
    December 22, 2009 11:39 AM

    Lovely stuff, mish. The High Whig historian puts the syphilitic Tory through the mincer. and comes out with a good meat loaf.

    Went yesterday to Edinburgh to see a good exhibition of the art of Pul Sandby, an English contemporary of Boswell, whose first real job was as mapmaker to General Wade when George II set about civilising the wild Jacobites in the Highlands.

    It’s amazing how industrious (and deeply conservative) he was, and the period abounds with people like him and Boswell, who just didn’t stop working and often didn’t think too hard. Description was his forte, not interpretation – and so often the result is something you feel is trustworthy …. You often have to rethink the ways people related the general and the particular in the C18; it’s a markedly different relation to ours

  146. December 22, 2009 11:44 AM

    he is always ranting or twaddling.
    How much at home Boswell would have been on CiF, or would he have had his own blog, a sort of mix of Guido Fawkes and digitalspy… truly a man for our own celeb-obsessed age, he was born too early. Or are we all his heirs?

  147. MeltonMowbray permalink
    December 22, 2009 12:20 PM

    I was near Fratton Park yesterday, Tom, having root canal ‘therapy’. Despite Pompey’s win at the weekend the sense of despair in the vicinity of the ground was palpable. The tragic expressions on the horribly ugly faces of the populace was truly inspirational, and I boarded the ferry back to the Island with a song in my heart.

  148. December 22, 2009 1:14 PM


    A poignant picture from the Album of Memories.

    One is pained to think of the dark clouds that hover over the future days of this innocent infant Pompey supporter.

    Were the team choice insufficiently fatal, the child hails from… Oh my…Melbourne.

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