|
Bonjour!
I’m feeling slightly continental today so I thought I’d best resurrect my GCSE French and open with a “Bonjour”. Sadly my GCSE French is limited to “Bonjour” and, rather predictably, “Voulez-vous couchez avec moi, ce soir?”. Actually, my GCSE French is limited to “Bonjour”. The rest is something I have picked up on my travels. It has not helped me when I have been arrested in France. Never mind. I’m sure I will understand what it means before long.
Welcome to yet another Whimsy. I hope you are feeling OK today. I’m sure that tomorrow you will feel even better. As usual, please visit the Whimsy website at:
www.users.globalnet.co.uk/~codmate/whimsy/index.html <http://www.users.globalnet.co.uk/~codmate/whimsy/index.html>
Encourage others to do it. You never know, they may be grateful.
Today’s special guests are Adam, Charlotte and Ben. Thankfully they all live in the same house which saves on wear and tear of buildings and highways. Adam and Charlotte are old enough to know better - they were once part of a deadly opium-smuggling cartel which is good in a way because antique drugs should make a comeback. I think drugs are much better when given long names like Laudanum, Morphine and GenoaCake. GenoaCake is particularly addictive thanks to its proliferation of sultanas. Anyway, Adam and Charlotte were caught by me when I worked for the vice squad. They are now successfully successful by running a sheep-manufacturing business in Outer Afrobhan. Ben is their two-year old son and manager. Two years old is good because I can call say things like “Donkey-dicked pig-shagging anal fuck” and he won’t mind, let alone understand. I hope one day that he will know what that all means because everyone needs a basis for comparison.
As usual, please keep all your e-mails coming in to the Whimsy site. I look forward to hearing from you. Please remember to send in any suggestions for the forthcoming sci-fi Whimsy. It is Cumming SOON!!
Shoopshoopmuffyap welcome
Swear Word of the Day - Bloody. I’ve said this before but Americans are rubbish. You notice that they have stolen the English Language, one of the most complex and difficult of languages to master and have bastardised it so they say things like: “y’know?” instead of “Do you understand?” and “Bagel” instead of “Bready ring-thing” and “Cop” instead of “Fascist bastard”. Fast food culture is what is to blame, says I. Happily, some words are still ours. Note that the Americans are rubbish at swearing. They have only a few compared to our arsenal of abuse. One of our greatest swear words is “bloody”. It not only provides us with a good minor-level swear word which can suffice in most circumstances but it also defines out national linguistic capabilities. Have you ever heard an American say “Bloody Hell”? It sounds like an ostrich learning to sing in Italian. Believe it or not, “Bloody” has its roots in medieval English. It is actually a derivative of “By My Lady” in that it is a word to use in vain that refers to someone of power (remember that at this period of history, England’s aristocracy was more dangerous to its plebs than it is today) but does not take God’s name in vain. To do so would be to break one of the 10 Commandments. Not that it has ever stopped anyone breaking all of the others.
“Bloody” is one of the great words in the English language and it is one that cannot be erased by the current homogenity of the late 20th century Imperialist expansion of the United States of America. Join together my friends and stand up for our sweary words! Sing with me our national anthem (“Wonderwall” by Oasis) and sing it in the traditional way (in a pissed slur of a voice as if staggering back from a nightclub called “The Ritz!!”) whilst wearing our national costume (pale chinos and a Ben Sherman shirt that makes you look like an Opal Fruit, sorry, a Starburst). Next week (depending on popular demand as to whether you lot like this regular slot): “Bugger”.
Newspaper of the Day - The Daily Mail. This rotten newspaper with Broadsheet pretensions is mired in the fact that it has no real sense of humour. If there is something to complain about in terms of standards on TV, you can guarentee that The Daily Mail will try and get it banned. Witness: Byker Grove, Grange Hill, Monty Python, Brass Eye and, on occasion when the presenters have been snorting cocaine, Blue Peter. Have you ever read it? It really is frightening how right-wing The Mail is. Normally I would urge you to seize every copy and join me for a public burning in the city square. However, that would be playing them at their own game. I would suggest that you buy a copy and use it to wipe your arse on. Uncomfortable but satisfying to know that you will be wiping it on some Godawful article about knitting, family values or banning some TV show that rules.
Bird of the Day - Blackbird. Named after a kick-ass jet plane, this bird is commonly seen in our gardens. Most of us are familiar with its melodious song which is really rather beautiful. Unfortunately, this beautiful song is best heard at the crack of Dawn - i.e. at this time of year, about 4am. Now I usually go to bed at the weekend at about 4am so it pisses me off that I am forced to listen to this heavenly and capitvating sound when I am trying to sleep. It isn’t fair. The Blackbird is a bird which is black. Well, at least the male of the species is. The female of the species is more deadly than the male.
Weather Phenomenon of the Day - Thunderstorm. Guaranteed to make you shit your pants, our common or garden thunderstorm usually makes its appearence, with remarkable comic timing, for the first day of Wimbledon. As a child, I bet you hid under the table or something, or dived under your bed. Me? Well I have no shame in mentioning that I used to burst into tears at any hint of thunder or lightning. Thunderstorms in this country are mercifully brief and are usually quite harmless, unless you pick the perfect moment to be struck by lightening - in which case thunderstorms are not harmless at all, shoudl you end up being struck by lightning you end up looking like a bit of doner kebab.
In other countries, particularly hot foreign ones where snakes and scorpions are a day-to-day adventure, thunderstorms are more vicious. In south-east Asia it has to be said that the ensuing rainstorm is more like the ocean being poured through a sieve than our regular British Rain. The thunder is louder and the lightning is just as lethal but more frequent.
But what really irritates me about thunderstorms is the statistics about them. Particularly the one that says: “You are more likely to be struck by lightning than to be attacked by a shark.” Gee thanks, that really puts my mind at ease. It nevertheless implies that if I stay out in a thunderstorm or if I go swimming in the sea, something harsh is going to happen to me. It’s better for all concerned to stay indoors, never go out and refuse to answer the door on rainy days.
Football Team of the Day - Torquay United. Now I have never claimed to know anything about football but I know for a fact that Torquay United are the shittest team in England and possibly the World. Even little boys in the park with jumpers for goalposts are better than Torquay United.
Country of the Day - Turkey. Named after a big chicken-like bird, Turkey is one of the great glaring contradictions of our time. Is it in Europe or Asia? I am never sure because they frequently take part in the Eurovision Song Contest which for me defines international boundaries and geography. Is it dangerous or safe? Turkey has one of the worst human rights records in the modern World, yet America (another great US fact, folks!) takes great delight in supplying it with weapons, money and Coca-Cola. Guidebooks always tell you that the Eastern Part of the country is highly dangerous, yet we as Britains go to Turkey in our millions each year. Mind you, I once had a top-bollocks lad’s piss-up...er....cultural research trip there a few years back, and I learned a great deal about the local culture for the thesis that I was writing concerning ethnomusicology of Asia Minor (conclusion: Belly Dancers can carry loads of cash in their cleavages).
What The Fuck? of the Day - I’ve got a great idea (thinks J.K. Rowling), I’ll write a book and make it just like The Worst Witch - about a young magic student who has all sorts of adventures with jolly chums - only this time I’ll make the protagonist a boy ‘cos no-one buys books about girls. I’ll call him Harry Potter and before the grown ups can do anything about it, I’ll take over the world and force American kids to learn new spellings for words like “color” and “center” and that will serve everyone right.
Harry Potter, for those of you living under a rock for the last year or so, is one of these phenomenons that is vastly popular but I have not allowed it into my life for fear of it being pants. Haven’t you read some of the hype for the new one? Even The Independant, normally one of the most level-headed of newspapers, is wanking itself silly over it. The new one is apparently called “Harry Potter: Arses of Fire” and kids are about to raid bookshops and demand Harry Potter. I hate it when kids start getting all obssesive over immaterial things - Jesus, it’s only about two weeks since Pokemon was causing fights, gang beatings and drive-by’s in our fair schoolyards. Why can’t kids get obssesive about cool things? Like Tom Waits, for example. Can’t you see kids swapping ‘Rain Dogs’ for ‘Small Change’? When will we hear kids in classrooms and playgrounds and at the dinner table quoting such wondrous gems as:
“And I left all my papers on the Ticonderoga
and I was in bad need of a shave
so I shopped at the corner on cold chow-mein
and I shot billiards with a midget until the rain stopped.
I bought a long-necked shirt with horses on the front.
and some gum, a lighter and a knife.
And a new deck of cards with girls on the back!”
It could happen, y’know.
Anyway, Harry Potter has attracted my attention. Now will someone please tell me what the fuck the fuss is all about? Have you read it? Is it any good? Please e-mail me and let me know. Send your replies to the e-mail link found at:
www.users.globalnet.co.uk/~codmate/whimsy/index.html
Thought for the Day - You cannot measure a piece of string. But if you hold it at the other end, it gets shorter.
Dan Greensmith
|