Imagined Conversation with Carol Ann Duffy

Carol Ann Duffy's written a new poem called Christmas Eve which is here below and I have added a few things I'd like to say to her.

Time was slow snow sieving the night, Eh? OK snow looking as if it's being sieved I can understand, now Archy has explained the charming analogy to me. But it's the night that is in the accusative here, not the snow, so that ruins that. Do you mean ‘Time was slow. It was night time. The snow came down as if through a sieve.’? Do you? Well if so that’s a fine sentiment but I don’t think you get the message across very well, so the first line (vitally important bit of the poem) serves only to make the reader feel irritated. If you mean that 'Time' was 'snow which moved slowly' and that this slow-moving snow was 'sieving the night' then my bewilderment is total and my blood will be at the full rolling boil familiar to people who make jam.
a kind of love from the blurred moon; All right, I suppose this could be construed as making sense – though the idea of the snow or love or anything except reflected light and gravitational force coming from the moon is a bit questionable. It might be love from God, via the moon, but I don't think that's what C Duffy means.
your small town swooning, ‘swooning’? Sorry, you’ve lost me here, old girl. unabashed, ‘unabashed’ I will allow you, - and ‘Winter’s own.’
was Winter’s own.

 

Snow was the mind of Time, sifting ‘Snow was the mind of Time’? What does that mean? Time hasn't got a mind.
itself, drafting the old year’s end.
You wrote your name on the window-pane
with your young hand. Well that’s quite sweet. I like “your young hand”. Well done, Carol Ann.

 

And your wishes went up in smoke,
beyond where a streetlamp studied
the thoughtful snow on Christmas Eve, OK that’s reasonable I suppose - the lamp looking as though it’s studying the snow. But snow can’t be thoughtful.
beyond belief, Beyond belief? What ARE you talking about?

 

as Time, snow, darkness, child, kindled. Kindled??? Kindled what? If you are implying that they all caught fire that is ridiculous. Time and Darkness are abstract nouns, snow is wet and children are non-combustible so kindled is pretty inappropriate here. Also to kindle is (usually) a transitive verb so you shouldn’t just leave it dangling there without an object.
Downstairs, the ritual lighting of the candles. Took place, I presume. Dear dear. Careless.

 

 

In conclusion: I am not equipped to comprehend or appreciate Carol Ann Duffy’s work.

I realise that this is my own fault and is completely due to my own shortcomings and in no way do I hold C A Duffy to blame for it. 

 

 

 

Pretentious Art Catalogue

The Exmore Art Gallery Catalogue

This is a short story in the form of a pretentious art catalogue. The chronological exhibits chart the fortunes of the group of artists. I thought this was a wonderful original way of telling the story but the Exmoor Writing Competition judges did not like it since it doesn't work very well when read out to an audience, and they wanted to read out the winning entry at the ceremony of awarding the prize. Otherwise it would definitely have won the prize as it is quite, quite hilarious and takes the mickey out of the daft claims art dealers make about some of the modern art they try to flog.

Here we are :

 

EXMORE ART GALLERY

CATALOGUE
 

A Note on the Artists



 Exhibit 2 :   Portrait of the Artist's Sister      by Artist B


 

The artists exhibiting at the Exmore Gallery are members of a small group of very young artists (age range: 2 to 14 yrs) operating at the leading edge of contemporary English art. Little known outside their Exmoor community, they produce work that may be recognised by its frenetic, undisciplined but strangely vivid nature, and the use of unconventional materials. Previously unexplored subject matter is also a feature. Driven by boredom, lack of formal skills and a heady disregard for the usual expectations of the art establishment, and drawing their inspiration from such sources as violent sibling rivalry, desire to irritate their patrons (the so-called 'Mother' and 'Dad'), certain of the more unsavoury household incidents of the rural poverty in which they live and work, and the eccentric Exmoor society that is their habitual milieu, the Exmore Group here present what is generally accepted as being the single most important body of artistic endeavour to emerge from the West Country in the present century. The artists have chosen, for reasons both of shame and of grandeur, to be known simply as Artists A, B, C and D.

 

The Gallery doubles as the artists' home and studio. It is arranged as a typical domestic setting, with exhibits displayed attached by magnets to the refrigerator, scattered on bedroom floors and left lying about on tables etc. The works are catalogued in chronological order and thus describe the rise of these artists from tentative and humble beginnings, through burgeoning confidence and increasingly ambitious compositions, to reach their present status at the top of the current art scene.

1. Snake with Udders chased by Spindly Chicken                                              Artist A
                  Running-out biro on newsprint                                                          125 gns
                                 Rare early illustration in the 'Herding Cats' style favoured by this largely-undiscovered but talented artist. Influence of Jackson Pollock and L da Vinci.

2. Portrait of the Artist's Sister                                                                           Artist B
                  Blackberry Jam on mashed potato                                                       95 gns
                               Available as a limited edition print only. This is a formative piece in the manner which Artist B has since gone on to develop further, examining the use of numerous unorthodox components.

3. I Want Some Ice Cream                                                                                    Artist C
                  Unknown liquid on paper                                                                       175 gns
                               Troubling work from the artist's 'Needy' period (2009-10) when doubts arose about the wisdom of his choice of friends.

4. Untitled                                                                                                            Artist B
                  Crayon on silk                                                                                    500 gns
                                Costly media (being the artist's mother's best dress, and a set of brand new colouring pencils) demonstrate this artist's uncompromising dedication to authenticity.

5. Tiger on the Bread Shouting                                                                            Artist D
                 Indelible marker on Homework                                                            350 gns
                                  Typical of the artist's output, this is an intensely visceral response to an expedition to feed the ducks at Dulverton.

6. Pony Climbed the Christmas Tree                                                                Artist D
                 Ink on Cardboard                                                                                 195 gns
                                  Conceived as a reaction to a notorious incident when the family's pony was let into the house by one of the Group. This work was subsequently used by the patrons as a design for a Christmas card.

7. Oh God Henry how dare you Mummy's going to be Furious                      Artist B
                 Water on bathroom floor                                                                        unpriced
                                  A dynamic artwork, fading as the water dries, its only physical existence remaining as a set of invoices for repair work.

8. Egg with Goatee Beards and Double Skyscraper #275                                  Artist A
                 Fresco on kitchen wall                                                                         NFS
                                 Thought to be an attempt by the artist to address her fear of an uncle's beard-threats, and a pair of inappropriate shoes worn by a visitor to the farmyard studio.

9. a) Smoothing Iron Goes Mad in the Reindeer Stable                                      Artist C
    b) Chicken by Toby's Head near the Landrover                                               695 gns
    c) Picnic at the Slimy Toad with Ulcers
                 Etching on table top (wood)
                                 A deeply disturbing tryptich inspired by a dermatology textbook shown to the artist when he was a baby.

10. Nurse! I'm Sinking!                                                                                        Artist B
                  Collage                                                                                               275 gns
                                Constructed of medical paraphernalia and his mother's tears, this piece commemorates the artist's visit to Casualty after an attempt to descend Porlock Hill on a go-kart.
Proceeds from the sale of  'Nurse! I'm Sinking!' will go to the Orthopaedic Dept., Taunton Hospital.

11. Landrover Fragments : 'Die, Landrover - DIE'                                            Artist A
                  Metal and glass                                                                                  345 gns
                                A site-specific installation situated at the foot of cliffs at Hurlstone Point. Visible at low tide only: it is advisable to check local tide tables before viewing.

Exhibit 6 :    Pony Climbed the Christmas Tree  (detail)      by Artist D

STOP PRESS :
Due to unscheduled production of item 12 the art show will now be housed in Porlock Village Hall.


12. Gallery Rubble       Believed to be a collaborative work by the whole Group although all 4 deny any responsibility either joint or several.
                 Rubble                                                                                    Freehold offered; POA
                               Assembled during an unsupervised chemistry experiment with TNT and gunpowder, this sculpture signifies the end of these artists' careers.

Note : After acrimonious discussions with their patrons, The Exmore Group have agreed to eschew further artistic production and to pursue careers as Babysitter (Artist A), Paperboy (Artist B), Kindergarten Student (Artist C), and Housework Assistant (Artist D).

Leopard Latest.

Cartier. Exciting News. Another picture of their leopard appeared in yesterday's Times. Poor Leopard: life doesn't get any less baffling for it. Here it is confronted by one of their new Diamond Ring Collection, and quite unable to fathom what it is for.

 

It is either an absolutely miniature leopard, or that is a ring for a giant.

 

 

I shall say no more on the subject.

 

 

 



 

A Visit to the Patek Philippe Family's Kitchen

A new insight into the life of the Patek Philippe family has been vouchsafed to us! This heart-warming image was on the back page of this week's Times magazine. Aren't we lucky?

 

It shows Mr Philippe in the kitchen with Boy Philippe, and they are MESSING WITH FLOUR but not wearing aprons. Now families who live at this level of luxury always have finest cashmere jerseys - and have you ever looked at the washing instructions on those sort of items? They strike dread into the heart of any laundryperson, I can tell you. Laughable demands for hand wash only at cool temperatures, reshape while flat, do not wring and other preposterous requirements and as for tumble drying, well, don't even consider doing such a thing. And yet these idiotic males are getting flour all over them. There won't half be trouble when Mrs Philippe gets home and sees what they've done. AND, Mr Philippe, who is supposed to be looking after that watch for the next generation, is NOT doing a very good job is he. Imagine making pastry without taking your watch off first! No proper cook would make a fundamental mistake like that. It'll get ruined; mark my words.

It is safe to say that this advertisement represents another £23,625 of Patek's advertising budget down the drain.

 

 

Furthermore, we can expect Mrs Philippe to be pretty annoyed when she sees THIS:

 

 

"Something truly precious holds its beauty for ever."? Crikey, they're sailing close to the wind, coming out with a remark like that. It is VERY unchivalrous since it implies that Mrs Philippe and Girl Philippe are not truly precious because when their lifespan is over and they go down into the grave their beauty will be lost and only the lovely pearl earrings etc. will remain. 

Mrs Philippe is not going to care much for this sentiment. I think there may be Hell To Pay.

 

Well, I wish you a Happy Christmas, Patek family - but it's not looking hopeful. Not after the flour incident, and now THIS.

 

 



Advent

 Advent, Hurrah! I like Advent. The hymns are EXCELLENT - the best section in the hymn book.  I like having a proper Advent calendar with a lovely picture of the Nativity but no chocolate in it and I like disapproving of the Spiderman Advent calendars and the My Little Pony ones in the shops. I look forward to Christmas which among other things is an excuse for fine wines. The Collect for Advent is one I hold dear. The only drawback is having to go to Confession, but even that's wonderful once it's over. The whole thing is a marvellous antidote to the horrors of English winter.

 

The Annunciation by Fra Angelico

 

I shall now list some of the excellent hymns.

Lo He comes with clouds descending, tune Helmsley. Superb tune, and some of the words are great (not all of them though, I must admit, "Deeply wailing" (verse 2) is a bit much but with that tune you are willing to put up with anything); the best bit is in the last verse

"Yea, Amen! let all adore Thee,

High on Thine eternal throne;

Saviour, take the power and glory,

Claim the kingdom for Thine own;"

                i.e. Go for it Jesus mate.

Come thou long expected Jesus. It is essential to sing this to the tune Cross of Jesus by Stainer. A first class number, with sterling work done on the words by Charles Wesley. He had a hand in Lo he comes with clouds descending as well, but this one got away without any wailing and so much the better.

On Jordan's Bank the Baptist's cry. This has the same tune as Ride on Ride on in Majesty, i.e. Winchester New, which is one of the aces.

These last 2 contain many good lines including "whose Advent sets thy people free", and "Israel's strength and consolation", which are two of my favourite remarks in all church literature.

Giovanni Bellini cracks it, big time.
Madonna and Child
 

 As we get nearer to Christmas a few rather tedious Christmas ones begin to creep in eg. In the Bleak Midwinter, an organist's nightmare with irregular metre in the different verses making it totally unsuitable for a hymn in my opinion. I used to play the hymns for a vicar who was OBSESSED with this one for some reason and we had it ten times per church (he ran several) per Christmas season, minimum. Really. Needless to say I now can't stand it, or its annoying tune Cranham though I am sorry about that since it was written by Holst. The words (Christina Rossetti is responsible) are  repetitive, sanctimonious and daft. How cold does it get in Bethlehem anyway? Ha! I've looked it up and the average lowest temperature never falls below 41°F (5°C) at any time in the year. In such a climate frosty winds are unlikely to make moan and the earth is almost certainly never as hard as iron. Christina my dear, your whole premise has just been exposed as balderdash, and we now have an excuse not to sing this infuriating carol ever again.

 

The Advent season culminates in the Carol Service at Oare with the cream of Exmoor society present, 6pm Christmas Eve all welcome and a very good occasion which people ought to see for a fine old-fashioned example of how life used to be. Sometimes the hounds attend. Actually that's a lie but they do attend weddings, if the couple hunt. There are port and mince pies in the aisle afterwards. The churchwardens ensure that the only carols used are ones that everyone i) knows and ii) wants to sing, and the lessons are read from the King James Bible. The Magnificat is sung to Henry Smart's excellent chant which everyone is familiar with as it is the one Dudley Moore used in his splendid rendition of "As I was walking down the street one day : I saw a house on fire."

 

 Usually Gerald the drinking shepherd lurches in through the door at the last minute crying "Never fear - Gerald is here", and is sent to the back where he engages the organist (me) in ribald banter during the service and displays scant respect for the offices of the Holy Church. He attends church twice a year, for this Carol Service and the Harvest Festival where with an admirable sense of humour the Rector gives him the duty of carrying the wine up the aisle when the various gifts are brought forward. As he walks back down after handing over the bottle, he receives congratulations from his friends and relatives in the congregation.

 

Once the port has all gone and the final blessing is given, the people of the Oare beau monde disperse to their own homes / go out to feed the cattle / repair to the inn, and are not seen again till the Boxing Day meet.

 

 

 

Cartier Advertises in Vain

Are you going to buy some Cartier products this Christmas? In case you are - look at these advertisements, and I GUARANTEE you will change your mind. The rings etc. and watches are hideous. They're as subtle as a, a, a... er... an amaryllis? A vindaloo? No simile exists that will do justice to the absurd height to which these gaudy trinkets take their scorn for decent, restrained values. The advertising tries, but fails, to impress upon the public the desirability of what is in truth, and costly materials notwithstanding, coarse bling. The quest was doomed from the drawing board. My point is, that spend what you will on fancy advertising campaigns, it profiteth you nothing if the merchandise doesn't cut it - and this definitely does not.

 

Look at this, and gasp :



Innocent leopard cub startled by monstrous jewellery objet.

 




"What in the name of all that's a waste of valuable precious metals is this?"

 



Leopard cub has disposed of the glittering gewgaws by pushing them away across the floor. Only empty boxes remain.
Quite reasonably the cub finds them and cherry petals infinitely more attractive.




Totally bemused by the leather bag, leopard has to have a lie down.

 



"What fresh hell...?"

 




"SURELY my eyes deceive me? There can't be MORE of this stuff."




"Right. I've had as much of this as I can stand. Engage Attack Mode. DIE, tawdry item - DIE."



There. You'll not be buying anything with a Cartier label NOW, will you? If you will, you're a stronger man than I am. This horrible collection of jewellery must have destroyed any customer-base they might once have had, as its only possible appeal is to a non-existent target demographic that consists entirely of multi-millionaire East-End barrow-boys aged 2. Population : zero. Bad luck, Cartier. Instead of spending Lord knows how much money hiring baby leopards and fake snow etc. they should have put their advertising budget into product research and designed some things people would actually want to buy. These advertisements must make everyone think Good heavens that's not the sort of thing Araminta would wear, not even when she's been on the Bolly; I shan't go to Cartier for her present.

 

 

Araminta refers you to the 18ct gold hunter in the previous post, if you want to please her at Christmas.

 

 



Advertising Done Incorrectly. The Sad Consequences.

It costs £23,625 to put an advertisement on the back cover of Saturday Times magazine, and £27,195 for a full page in the Times newspaper. It really does. Usually I just make up the data for my blog posts but these are the genuine figures. You would think that if they were going to spend that amount of money the watch companies would make sure their advertisements were definitely going to persuade people to buy their wares.
But look at this:

Patek Philippe! What possessed them? NO-ONE - NO-ONE - is going to buy any of their watches now! Who would EVER run the risk of being thought of as being like these beastly people depicted here? That overly-immaculate man is clearly getting too much money if he can afford to wear an expensive watch like that for rough games like rowing. The child is Fotherington-Thomas come back to us, and he looks covetously at the watch instead of listening to his father's instructions about not catching a crab. The father is about to smack him one whilst saying "Get your eyes off my watch, Brat. Over my dead body you are having that." (They actually admit that in the text, if you read between the lines.) Also no gentleman worthy of the name would own such an ugly watch; and as for the matching cufflinks... here we see vulgarity taken to new limits.

This self-defeating advertisement graced the whole back page of the Times magazine recently.

 

 

 

Rolex are just as bad, because this took up a page of the Times on 19th November: 

Who the devil are all these nonentities? One of them is, I think, Elvis Presley, there's a bird who might be Sophia Loren but I'm not sure, and apart from that... one of them could be William Hague though it seems unlikely. There's a fellow dressed up as a Cherokee brave for some reason, and what is presumably a ghastly sportsman (the one kissing a big cup). What they have got to do with Rolex I can not tell, and the idea that their pictures could make me want to buy a Rolex watch is absurd. There is no clear picture of any watch so it's a remarkably unhelpful use of the page. 

As for the WORDS -  dear oh dear. "This watch is a witness"? No, mate. It's a watch. It just sits there, with its hands going round. It is not a witness to anything and it does not "dare men faster", or further, or any other speed or distance. This is TOSH. Someone at the advertising agency must be squirming with shame at having written the stuff. It's as bad as that terrible British Airways campaign "To fly. To serve.", though admittedly that one granted our family HOURS of amusement teasing our brother who works for them. Anyway, you won't catch me buying a Rolex after THIS, I can tell you.

 

 

Look, boys. THIS is an advertisement that would make people buy your watch:

 

18 ct Gold Hunter.

Keeps good time.

£5

Available now

from Jewellers in Minehead High Street.

 

 

That's all you need. A fine product, with a picture to show you how lovely it is, and information about the price and where to buy it from. Notice the complete lack of silly gimmicks. The customers will flock to your counters. I am afraid it may be too late for Rolex and Patek Philippe, but thanks to me other manufacturers can benefit from the mistakes made by those foolish firms.

N.B: About the price, £5 :  I am sorry but this is a lie.

Another Soul-destroying Leaflet from the Government

Here we are. Another attempt by our masters to keep us miserable and subdued.

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No, actually. Do NOT use the space to write notes about keeping safe on your birthday. Make lists of the wine and beer you are going to buy for your party and the unsuitable guests you will invite.

 

 

 

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Templates for this and other Govt. publications are available as Word documents from G-AHLK and can be easily personalised to suit your own birthday person. Let me know if you would like me to email them to you. Tremendously useful.

 

Photography Homework

I  have undertaken a Photography Assignment whose aim was to try to take some photographs in the style of Martin Parr. 

The 2 pictures below represent my best attempts. Some critical remarks are appended.

 

Image 1 

Weymouth 2013

The background here is cluttered which is typical Parr practice. Quite correct.

Garish light conditions prevailed at the time of taking the photograph, in accordance with Mr Parr's established principles.

Jaunty camera angle is another Parr trait which this photographer has emulated. Well done.

A lack of litter, however, lets this picture down. The foreground should have been abounding with food wrappers, discarded chips, beer cans and cigarette packets. Left bare, it presents a large expanse with nothing of interest in it. A profound blunder.

Composition shows some Parr-like tendencies - the top of the buildings cut off, the presence of waste bins, the fisherman's face obscured by his hand, the little girls not facing the camera - but the gentleman on the bicycle (though his unpleasant apparel is a characteristic Parr cipher) is too well-placed for this picture to be an authentic work. A pole of some sort bisecting the frame would also be required in a genuine Parr picture.

Superficially quite a commendable attempt to take a photograph that might be mistaken for a Parr, but a little analysis reveals glaring shortcomings to anyone who knows Parr's methods.

Image 2

Bennett's on the Waterfront, Weymouth

Another fair try.

Again, a cluttered background, glaring light, a waste bin in the picture, and unco-operative figures refusing to acknowledge the camera. In this shot we have also a car bumper in the bottom left hand corner - a nicely Parrian touch, especially when paired with the tiny bit of a car's front end at the right hand side of the picture; full marks for that - credit where due.

Evaluation of the camera angle is slightly problematic but careful study will show that the photographer here has held the camera all but level, which reveals poor attention to detail. The litter is absent, as is any dominant pole; and the Parr habit of cutting off the edges of his subjects would have had the "Bennett's on the Waterfront" sign partially obscured to read, say, "nett's on the W". Furthermore the man in the blue coat would have struck a more discordant, Parrian, note had he been walking out of the frame rather than into it. As it is, because he is looking at the other 2 figures he seems connected to them and that makes the 3 a coherent group. A fatal mistake which Parr would never have made. These facts betray the originator of this image as an artist who falls far short of Parr's ideal.

 

The final mark for this candidate can therefore be no more than a β-.

 

 

My comments. 

A photograph taken in the manner of Martin Parr should include

• Overly bright light : which I have faithfully applied.
• Camera angle of approx. 15° out of true : Image 1 has this but I forgot to use it in Image 2.
• Waste bins : Both pictures feature these. Good.
• Cluttered backgrounds : Done. 10/10.
• Litter in foreground : Not evident in either photo. Poor. Weymouth is too salubrious an area. I could have scattered litter about prior to taking photos but this is frowned upon in Dorset society. Besides, men in white coats would have come and placed me into padded custody - and rightly so.
• Subjects cut off against side of photo : Got this in Image 2 (the cars). Splendid.
• Composition breaking accepted rules : I tried, God knows I tried, but it is difficult to override instincts which have always served one well.

The skill lies in i) finding the scene, and ii) waiting till just the wrong moment. Mr Parr has mastered it; but WHY? WHY?

The attainment of expertise such as Mr Parr's seems to be a lot of effort for very questionable reward. I will be deleting both pictures from my collection.

 

Here is a proper photograph, for which I would expect an α++ at the least: 

 

 

Actually I didn't take this but I wish I had. Steve McCurry took it. God bless him. It breaks ALL M Parr's rules and is therefore marvellous. Justifiably a v. famous picture, of an Afghan Girl in 1984.

Psalm 121

I can no longer remain silent on the subject of the Catholic translation of the Psalms currently in use.  Last weekend it was 'the 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C' so at Mass we had the excruciating version of what they call Psalm 120. It is from the Grail Psalter, which I dislike. Firstly: I was brought up with the Prayer Book (Book of Common Prayer) and therefore with the Coverdale Psalms which use the Hebrew (Masoretic) numbering and so I consider the number for this Psalm to be 121. It is known as Psalm 121 by English people and is familiar to everyone -  I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills. See - you recognise it don't you and you would NOT call it number 120. Now Myles (Coverdale) did a fine job as was his wont when he translated this one.

 

Levavi oculos with admirable chant by J Turle :

Copyright information: this is from the Parish Psalter SH Nicholson publ 1932

I don't like the pointing in verse 6 here, but apart from that the whole thing is splendid. ["So that the sun shall not burn / thee by / day : nei/ther the / moon by / night",  it ought to be. I know best.]


And here's what we get at the Sacred Heart (God bless it). No chant neither.


from the Grail Psalms copyright 1963 The Grail

 

This one completely lacks the poetry of the Coverdale one. Which is more charming -

Behold he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.

or

No, he sleeps not nor slumbers, Israel's guard.?

This is very poor grammar, apart from anything else. It's practically slang. Compare "Yeah, I'm well 'ard, me." The syntax is identical. 

 
I defy you not to wince at hearing       May he never allow you to stumble!
with its superfluous exclamation mark, when you could have

He will not suffer thy foot to be moved.

The meaning may be similar, but that Grail one puts it in such a childish patronising way that it is far less uplifting than it might be eg. as it is in the Prayer Book translation.
 
Whoever wrote these Grail ones had a tin ear, that's for sure.
 

The Lord will guide your going and coming.

What on earth was the thinking behind that? No-one says 'going and coming', even in ordinary speech. They say 'coming and going'. Coverdale on the other hand, by using

The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in

gets the message across faultlessly : i) 'shall' conveys more definite confidence than 'will'; ii) preserving is more useful than guiding, thanks; iii) going OUT and coming IN is more expressive and makes the phrasing sound better. Going out and coming in are actually things people do, with a purpose. 'Coming and going' is a cliché meaning milling about achieving nothing and it's not much good God guiding us when we're doing that. He should send us off to do something constructive instead.

 
I love the Psalms and find comfort in them but this would never have happened if I had not had the Prayer Book version forced upon me in my younger years. It is unhelpful, nay, wicked, to make people use these silly other translations because they will then never bother to look at the Prayer Book Psalms or the King James Bible ones and thus will deprive themselves of a marvellous gift. Everyday language is no use to me when I want major serious help in spiritual matters. 

 
Therefore these are the final scores  :  Coverdale  1,  Vatican  nil.

Bureaucratic Interference in Birthdays

In view of the high concentration of birthdays at this time of year the Government's Birthday Guidelines are shown below. A typical Government issue if I may say so.




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Needless to say I will not be complying with the Govt.'s patronising suggestion.

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Health Guidance : contains Infinity% of your recommended daily amount of Fatuous Input.

 

 

 

Horseboxes: A Scourge.

I forgot to include the following useful advice in the directive about Hooting. Sorry about the omission and thanks to friends who pointed it out.

 



On the way to the Gymkhana.
This excellent horse regrets the extension to your journey time
but is completely at the mercy of its masters and
is therefore not to blame.

Second only to tractors in the canon of vehicles which cause the motorist's heart to sink, are cars towing HORSEBOXES. These go along at a v leisurely pace and the people driving them think they are very important because "Clarissa must get to her Gymkhana" and this gives them (they think) full rights to be as slow as they jolly well please. It is not possible to hoot at these as it may freak the horses out and cause them to injure you or themselves. The action to take in this situation is to flash your lights constantly, wind down your window and lean out shaking your fist so the horseowner thinks you are indicating that their horse is in difficulties. Soon he will stop to see what the matter is, and you will be able to get past. This only works if you are in the car directly behind the horsebox; thus if you are at the head of a queue of traffic caught in the wake of a horsebox it is your Civic Duty to do it, for the good of all road users. Furthermore, any over-courteous driver who stops to allow a horsebox or other cumbersome vehicle out in front of him, renders himself if not a legitimate military target at least a worthy recipient for all the V-signs, thumb-biting and other abusive hand-signals those following him might care to offer.



Clarissa doing Dressage.

She is quite oblivious to all the people she has caused to be late for their appointments.







 

A Number of Significant Campaigns

Several areas of public life have been identified as requiring improvement. I have decided that campaigns are needed for the following: More Hooting; Children to have Better Manners; and Prevention of Plastic Windows. Details below.

1. More Hooting.


Apply hand or fist to hooter.
Press firmly. Hold in place as necessary.

All motorists in England should hoot more. We are too accepting of other road users' many ineptitudes.

The most serious areas for attention are
 

i) at traffic lights. When the light at last goes green you may be assured that the driver of the car in front of you will

• take considerable time to notice that light has gone green
• wonder what to do next
• turn on car
• stall
• try again
• move off at zero mph ensuring that you are prevented from getting through as light returns to red.

Hooting at him the instant the light goes amber (i.e. pre-green) will go some way to speeding up the first and second of these laborious processes. Traffic queue etiquette ought to direct that we should all aim to move off at the same time. This would save HOURS on the roads. The average driver spends 336 hrs, i.e. two solid weeks,  per year waiting at traffic lights. Actually I just made that up, but I bet it's true.
 

ii) when following a tractor. Tractors and all other people who want to go slowly impeding the traffic flow and delaying legitimate road users who have serious stuff to do, hymns to play etc. should be obliged by law on pain of death to pull over every 100 yds to let the queue behind them get past. Hooting continuously from the time when you are first stuck behind them would alert them to your presence of which they usually feign ignorance.  
Tractors should be forbidden the use of the roads at rush hour, school run time and 10.30am on Sundays when important organists are trying to get to Mattins.

If car manufacturers included among the controls an on-off hooter switch this would facilitate implementing the hooting initiative. However, holding the horn button down for long periods can be very satisfying particularly if done in a spirit of admonishment and reproach so this option should remain available in addition. Of course what one would like to do when trapped behind an annoying vehicle, is smash repeatedly into the back of it; however this is inadvisable unless one has unlimited funds. 
 

Sub-campaign 1a : Banning of unnecessary traffic lights.

Workmen wishing to implement traffic lights round their roadworks should be forced to submit an application to ME, explaining why they think they should be allowed to have the traffic lights. My decision will be final and I will refuse any requests for lights where one can see the other end. The fact is, o panickers of the Transport Ministry, that believe it or not we motorists know it is silly to crash our cars into each other and will avoid doing so where possible. Thus if we can see there is another car coming towards us past the road works we will wait till it has gone by. On the whole people are reasonable and generous so traffic will continue to move smoothly despite lack of  intervention. It makes us VERY ANNOYED if we have to wait ages at a red light when we can see perfectly well that there is nothing coming the other way. Worse still is waiting at red light when you can see that the light is red at the other end too, because the stream of vehicles has obediently stopped as their light became red. The law should be changed to override the mindless dictates of the traffic light in this situation. Also, applications for three-way control lights will automatically be refused. Work which would require this will just have to be cancelled. The End. There will be no recourse to appeal.
 

It is imperative that we stop being docile on the roads because we are only making life difficult for ourselves and for future generations. So hoot please and write to your MP asking him to get the traffic light nonsense stopped; thank you.

2. Children to be have Better Manners.
It has come to my notice as I go about the district that the children I encounter often return insolent glares for my salutations. They have been taught by their parents that all adults probably have wicked designs upon their person. The children have learnt to state clearly, using body language alone, "Get away from me you sick pervert". Now this is offensive. I'm not a pervert, and nor is almost anyone else, so why should we all have to bear such incivility? It saddens the offended adult and diminishes the child, adding unnecessarily to the sum of human misery. It is not necessary for a child to be rude for it to be wary. These children could put their non-verbal communication skills to better use in making respectful gestures such as curtseying (girls) and touching their caps (boys); and they may address me as 'Madam'. Bidding someone Good Day is not going to make the child ANY more likely to be attacked.


Charming little girl ready to curtsey.
No pictures of boys doffing their caps
are available as the custom has died out.

If children are rude because they are shy, then tough, I'm afraid. They must be taught not to be shy, and to greet people politely. I was.  My parents would have cuffed me one, and rightly too (this was expected in those days. I am very old), if I refused to say Good Morning to someone, just because I felt shy. 


In contrast to their less courteous counterparts, children who have attained social graces are an asset to society and it is a pleasure to associate with them. I have a whole herd of exemplary and well-mannered nephews and nieces who enjoy the esteem of the community and have the happiness of knowing that they are A Credit To Their Parents.  Such children are a very good thing and make life better for everyone.

3. Prevention of Plastic Windows.
Evil operatives are at work across England replacing traditional windows by execrable substitutes in the form of uPVC windows. These bear no resemblance to real windows. They look horrible and while that is of no consequence in cases where the building on which they are inflicted is vile anyway, the uPVC firms have no compunction about targeting decent houses as well. No residence, be it mansion or shack, is safe. The outcome for the overall aspect of an old house blighted in this way is, without fail, catastrophic. Windows have a significant impact on the character and appearance of a building; and the uPVC windows are crudely detailed with great thick out-of-proportion frames, the material's shiny finish is out of keeping with older materials, and the glass they use has a uniform, flat appearance and none of the charm lent by the imperfections characteristic of old crown or cylinder glass. Furthermore where windows have glazing bars, these should form part of the structure of the window - application of false glazing bars to the surface of the window is a Kindergarten technique widely used by uPVC companies, the effect of which is historically incorrect and not in the least convincing. They fool no-one.
If you want to see what I mean, you might go to Merriott (Somerset). Terrible things have been done there. It was once a beautiful village of ham stone cottages but now they have utterly despoiled it with inappropriate windows galore. 

 

A fine delightful window





No captions required


The firms tell their prey that uPVC windows will free him of the costly maintenance appertaining to wooden windows. In fact the plastic ones, always hideous, soon look shabby as well anyway : a lose-lose situation. And we all suffer - not just the house-owners but everyone who has to look at their horrid-windowed properties. The only concern of the window firm is to get the victim to agree to have his house ruined, to do the work and take the money before moving on to cozen the next innocent householder. They care nothing for aesthetics, truth or the welfare of the nation in general.
They should be stopped immediately and imprisoned, before they do any more damage. Their money should be forfeit and given to the unfortunate people of Merriott and elsewhere to help them to pay for proper windows. There must be FORTUNES to be made by honest carpenters willing to put right the wrongs done. Would that I had the skill, energy, or initiative required. Alas I have not; but I freely give this idea for a total moneymaking dead cert to anyone who wishes to do it and they will have my thanks and those of the wider public for their pains, yea unto their children's children and for ever more.