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Archive for August 11th, 2007

Out with the old…in with the blue…

WebCameron has been using Photoshop again – changing the tone of his Conservatives by defacing the £40,000 logo brought in fairly recently to replace the Thatcherite torch emblem of conservatism and turning what is supposed to be a tree (Top left) into a truly bizarre blue squiggle with a cloud and the sun peeping in to the left…. ironic that sunshine should come from the left. (Photoshop, for those readers who do not know, is a very clever bit of picture imaging software. One may do many things with Photoshop)

I was pleased to read in the Press the other day that a Cafe owner has laid down the law to his non-smoking customers. Outside tables, he rules, are only for smokers. If you don’t smoke, you have to sit inside so smokers can enjoy a fag with their cuppa and slice. This is a policy which I have put to the management of The Bollo. Apparently, one non-smoker bought a packet of cigs from a newsagent and left them on the table to look as if he was a smoker! The British are nothing, if not inventive. Unfortunately, the eagle-eyed cafe owner rumbled him and told him that he had to smoke to sit at the outside tables. Excellent nonsense. A very British way of doing things.

It seems the Russkies are up to no good. Apart from possibly being involved in mysterious killings on British streets, they are now claiming to own a large part of the Arctic and have planted a flag on the sea bed under the Arctic to back up their territorial claim. Unfortunately, Reuters published a picture purporting to show Russian explorers staking their claim by publishing a photograph of a submarine. A 12 year old Finnish boy got his Nokia out and telephoned a local newspaper to point out that the picture used in many newspapers using the Reuters report was, in fact, a picture of two submersibles used in a film about the Titanic.

W G Charon, my great-uncle, was a keen gentleman cricketer. I share his interest. Before Richard & Judy, Blue Peter, and a host of other television programmes started misleading members of the public with dodgy phone-ins and ‘selective editing’, and the BBC published an unfortunate edit of a TV documentary about H M The Queen, I may well have been quite happy to have passed this ‘altered image’ off as an ‘exclusive’ picture of ‘a giant’ of our summer game, WG Grace.

Unfortunately I now have to ensure that this blawg is written in chronological order, has no voting systems, telephonic or otherwise, where punters have absolutely no chance of winning anything, and does not attempt to manipulate, distort or alter events as they occur. So… here is a picture of me, taken only this evening, while I had a few glasses of wine at The Swan, in a W G Grace outfit and beard and superimposed onto an image of a village cricket green.

I am ready – should the England One Day International cricket team need my services.

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A WWII Luftwaffe pilot in my garden?…

I seem to find myself, late on a Friday or Saturday night, wasting a fantastic amount of time on Facebook or other people’s blogs. Last night I decided, on my return from The Bollo, that there was a WWII Luftwaffe pilot, complete with Stuka, in my garden drinking Weissbeer and I persisted in this delusion for some time. I also managed to confuse Dawkins of The God Delusion for Dworkin, although I am reasonably familiar with the work of both men, and then could not even spell Dworkin. I plead in my defence that I taught Jurisprudence for some years – a fascinating subject; but not one that has much leverage down at The Bollo late on a summer evening. I may also have taken juice… in fact, I had been drinking Sangiovese, a Sicilian wine with a remarkable ability to induce euphoria and a feeling of general wellbeing to all men and women.

The WWII Luftwaffe pilot had left by the time I rose at 4.30 this morning – and, pleasingly, he had taken his Stuka with him. Unfortunately, my Facebook page appeared to be littered with people answering a question I asked about why we need God – and the answers were remarkably sensible. Erudition indeed. My own answers to my own question, various pokes, hugs, fish being sent and wall writing was, however, not quite so fluent or, indeed, sensible.

I am now at The Swan writing –  an espresso, a large glass of tap water and a glass of Rioja to my left. It is my mini-bar. To my right, an ashtray. There are young children in the garden, but the heat seems to have induced torpor. I am being observed by a smiling two year old in a pink dress. I am not quite sure why, but I do tend to find that I attract drunks, nutters, shouters and other curious people. Perhaps it is because I make eye contact and smile ?

I had an early morning cider drinker wander over to me at 6.45 am the other morning. I was settling down at the Hothouse Cafe in Chiswick to read The Mirror, drink several espressos and get on with the business of smoking Silk Cut. He asked me if he could have a cigarette (I gave him one) and then asked if I thought the sun would be out. I looked into the sky. The Sun was bright and already rising. Having used the Socratic method of teaching in law tutorials for over twenty-five years, I decided to ask him firstly if he would define “sun” and what meaning he attached to “out”. He smiled and, lurching only slightly, said “The second part of your question is more difficult for me than the first. If I say that ‘sun’ is the source of life then ‘out’ must mean “shine.”

The wonderful logic in his question and answer was then revealed, because he then said “Rather strange that if the Sun is ‘out’, the light is on, but when a light is out, it is off and not shining.” I started laughing and heard myself saying “Excellent… I’ll definitely remember that one.”

He seemed to be quite satisfied with this and asked me if I thought the off licence at the Convenience Store across the road would be open, said ‘goodbye’ and drifted off diagionally across the road to find out.

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