The Day the Music Died

Here is William Ewart Gladstone speaking into a phonograph, 1888.

And here is Ezra Pound reciting the Usura canto



When did that music die? I have heard recordings of EP reciting his poetry which sound like arias. Recorded in St Elizabeth's in the 1950s and maybe the students making the recordings thought him mad. Now we must all learn to speak in monotone and not wave our hands around except as Health'n'Safety guidelines allow.

In meiner Heimat

where the dead walked

and the living were made of cardboard.

Don't Be Afraid of the Bailiffs

Bailiff #1: Mister Ivan O. Barnett?

Self: No, and here is the evidence.

Bailiff #2: Miss...

Self: Decide for youself. I can get my tits out if you like.

They are awfully polite, these bailiffs. It will be another eight months or so before they have any reason to persue me.

Whatever

Official: And why exactly have you come here, Sir.

Sir Tristram: To wielderfight my penisolate war.

Official: I am not convinced that these are good grounds for an...

Blogista: What else is Cornwall about? Do you intend to build a nation on drinking stale bitter and singing "Goodnight Irene" late into the night? For God's sake, man.

Official: Even so, he has come here to be penisolate.

Blogista: So that is mostly penis, plus disconsolate. With a dash of peninsular, sole, late and other trimmings.

Sir Tristram: I have come here to wielderfight my penisolate war.

Official: I am sorry, Sir, you will have to return to Brittany on the next ferry.

Mitcham

здесь был я.

I was here.














мы пебблдашировали?
нам пебблдашировалоcь?

"Well then, we are both pebbledashed"... I have asked for the correct translation on the very excellent WordReference forum and expect an answer from a hopeless Russian-speaking stoner soon.

Нас отпебблдешили.

O God

Where is my taxpayer-funded gun and bottle of whisky?

How come only Prime Ministers get this kind of deal from the soi-disant "public" services?

Sigh. Back to th'old gin'n'paracetomol trick then.

Labels for this post kindly suggested by blogger.com: "e.g. scooters, holidays, autumn".

That works.

Sigh Again

Thank you British Telecom for arseing up the order so that I won't actually have broadband until Saturday 20th June.

That's a mere 28 days to get services transferred from one address to another.

Sigh

Thank you BT for leaving me without internet access between 23 May and 12 June.

Just, thx.

Why, it only took a few days to get gas and electricity supplies up and running, and only a couple dozen phone calls.