Not in the brochure

After another cheery commute from Ilford – I missed my usual train through dawdling – my own fault; but the fact that National Express replaced the next train, usually a 12 carriage with a 4 carriage train that even an anorexic sardine couldn’t board, I was triumphally late into the office this morning. My boss was okay about it as I’d emailed her from the station, but my boss’s boss gave me a sour look when I got in, though he seems to have thawed since.

I have decided that my best recourse is to redouble my efforts to win the jackpot on the lottery. In addition to requiring some quite astounding luck, this is probably more likely if I actually buy a lottery ticket.

This commute and the perils it entails, was quite definitely not in the brochure.

Not in the brochure

After another cheery commute from Ilford – I missed my usual train through dawdling – my own fault; but the fact that National Express replaced the next train, usually a 12 carriage with a 4 carriage train that even an anorexic sardine couldn’t board, I was triumphally late into the office this morning. My boss was okay about it as I’d emailed her from the station, but my boss’s boss gave me a sour look when I got in, though he seems to have thawed since.

I have decided that my best recourse is to redouble my efforts to win the jackpot on the lottery. In addition to requiring some quite astounding luck, this is probably more likely if I actually buy a lottery ticket.

This commute and the perils it entails, was quite definitely not in the brochure.

The Hippy Hippy Shakes

Spending a few minutes rooting around in my personal folder on the office computer, I found this wondrous piece that I had discovered - according to the date the file was saved - back in 2002.

In my mind's eye, I can see this speech being delivered, probably by an unknown actor, in a low budget Roger Corman or Roger Vadim movie from about 1966:

Mark Antony's Funeral Oration
Lord Buckley Variant.

(Cf. Julius Caesar, Act 3, Scene 2, lines 74-108)

Hipsters, flipsters, and finger-poppin' daddies,
Knock me your lobes,
I came to lay Caesar out,
Not to hip you to him.
The bad jazz that a cat blows,
Wails long after he's cut out.
The groovy is often stashed with their frames,
So don't put Caesar down.
The swinging Brutus hath laid a story on you
That Caesar was hungry for power
If it were so, it was a sad drag,
And sadly hath the Caesar cat answered it.
Here with a pass from Brutus and the other brass,
For Brutus is a worthy stud,
Yea, so are they all worthy studs,
Though their stallions never sleep.
I came to wail at Caesar's wake.
He was my buddy, and he levelled with me.
Yet Brutus digs that he has eyes for power,
And Brutus is a solid cat.
It is true he hath returned with many freaks in chains
And brought them home to Rome.
Yea, the looty was booty
And hipped the treasury well.
Dost thou dig that this was Caesar's groove
For the putsch?
When the cats with the empty kicks hath copped out,
Yea, Caesar hath copped out, too,
And cried up a storm.
To be a world grabber a stiffer riff must be blown.
Without bread a stud can't even rule an anthill.
Yet Brutus was swinging for the moon.
And, yea, Brutus is a worthy stud.
And all you cats were gassed on the Lupercal
When he came on like a king freak.
Three times I lay the wig on him,
And thrice did he put it down.
Was this the move of a greedy hipster?
Yet, Brutus said he dug the lick,
And, yes, a hipper cat has never blown.
Some claim that Brutus' story was a gag.
But I dug the story was solid.
I came here to blow.
Now, stay cool while I blow.
You all dug him once
Because you were hipped that he was solid
How can you now come on so square
Now that he's tapped out of this world.
City Hall is flipped
And swung to a drunken zoo
And all of you cats are goofed to wig city.
Dig me hard.
My ticker is in the coffin there with Caesar,
And, yea, I must stay cool til it flippeth back to me.

The Hippy Hippy Shakes

Spending a few minutes rooting around in my personal folder on the office computer, I found this wondrous piece that I had discovered - according to the date the file was saved - back in 2002.

In my mind's eye, I can see this speech being delivered, probably by an unknown actor, in a low budget Roger Corman or Roger Vadim movie from about 1966:

Mark Antony's Funeral Oration
Lord Buckley Variant.

(Cf. Julius Caesar, Act 3, Scene 2, lines 74-108)

Hipsters, flipsters, and finger-poppin' daddies,
Knock me your lobes,
I came to lay Caesar out,
Not to hip you to him.
The bad jazz that a cat blows,
Wails long after he's cut out.
The groovy is often stashed with their frames,
So don't put Caesar down.
The swinging Brutus hath laid a story on you
That Caesar was hungry for power
If it were so, it was a sad drag,
And sadly hath the Caesar cat answered it.
Here with a pass from Brutus and the other brass,
For Brutus is a worthy stud,
Yea, so are they all worthy studs,
Though their stallions never sleep.
I came to wail at Caesar's wake.
He was my buddy, and he levelled with me.
Yet Brutus digs that he has eyes for power,
And Brutus is a solid cat.
It is true he hath returned with many freaks in chains
And brought them home to Rome.
Yea, the looty was booty
And hipped the treasury well.
Dost thou dig that this was Caesar's groove
For the putsch?
When the cats with the empty kicks hath copped out,
Yea, Caesar hath copped out, too,
And cried up a storm.
To be a world grabber a stiffer riff must be blown.
Without bread a stud can't even rule an anthill.
Yet Brutus was swinging for the moon.
And, yea, Brutus is a worthy stud.
And all you cats were gassed on the Lupercal
When he came on like a king freak.
Three times I lay the wig on him,
And thrice did he put it down.
Was this the move of a greedy hipster?
Yet, Brutus said he dug the lick,
And, yes, a hipper cat has never blown.
Some claim that Brutus' story was a gag.
But I dug the story was solid.
I came here to blow.
Now, stay cool while I blow.
You all dug him once
Because you were hipped that he was solid
How can you now come on so square
Now that he's tapped out of this world.
City Hall is flipped
And swung to a drunken zoo
And all of you cats are goofed to wig city.
Dig me hard.
My ticker is in the coffin there with Caesar,
And, yea, I must stay cool til it flippeth back to me.

G20

I see from the news that despite having recorded the incident on a mobile phone, despite knowing who the participants being caught bang to rights, no-one in the Metroplitan Police is likely to be called to account, much less prosecuted, for the death of Ian Tomlinson during the G20 demonstrations last year. Timeline and details here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-10728685

I am not someone who habitually assumes that the Police are vicious barbarians, but while I understand - to an extent - the arguments put forward for not prosecuting anyone, it does rather look like a case of obne law for the police and another for the rest of us. For the system to work, we have to have faith in the police and this is not the sort of thing that promotes such faith.

Justice has to be seen to be done and in this case, the law and justice seem to have parted ways.

Once again, Peter Brookes of The Times has the right of it. Since I am not coughing up a quid to go through Murdoch's paywall, having paid a quid for the paper, here is the cartoon as grabbed by my iPhone. Aplogies for the comparatively ropy quality.

G20

I see from the news that despite having recorded the incident on a mobile phone, despite knowing who the participants being caught bang to rights, no-one in the Metroplitan Police is likely to be called to account, much less prosecuted, for the death of Ian Tomlinson during the G20 demonstrations last year. Timeline and details here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-10728685

I am not someone who habitually assumes that the Police are vicious barbarians, but while I understand - to an extent - the arguments put forward for not prosecuting anyone, it does rather look like a case of obne law for the police and another for the rest of us. For the system to work, we have to have faith in the police and this is not the sort of thing that promotes such faith.

Justice has to be seen to be done and in this case, the law and justice seem to have parted ways.

Once again, Peter Brookes of The Times has the right of it. Since I am not coughing up a quid to go through Murdoch's paywall, having paid a quid for the paper, here is the cartoon as grabbed by my iPhone. Aplogies for the comparatively ropy quality.