We’ll know by morning
Welp, the Scots are at it today. If you’re wondering why you haven’t seen much speculation yet, there’s a very tight embargo on election results until the whole vote is in. The announcement is expected in the morning, around 7:30 or before. That’s in the wee hours for most of my readership.
I’m going to go out on a limb and predict the No vote will win — not because I’m terribly confident, but because occasionally it’s fun to post something that will be definitively proven right or wrong within a few hours. It’s like playing Internet Pundit Chicken.
I base that on the fact No has been ahead all along, and still is. Just. Though Yes has had a tremendous last minute surge, it’s mostly among the yoot. And we know young people are excitable and love change but don’t turn up reliably at the ballot box. Still, they’re rounding people up and turning them out to vote, so I could have it wrong.
Had Scots politicians handled this better, they would end up in a stronger position, no matter how the vote turns out. Everyone in the UK is pissed off at Westminster and feels powerless, poorly represented and condescended to by that small bunch of snot-nosed mediocrities in government (of all parties). They could have capitalized on that and parted but stayed friends.
But no. Scots politicians are also snot-nosed mediocrities of the same general political class and they ran this thing on a lot of lefty anti-Tory bullshit and traditional bad feelings. If Scotland stays in the union, they may find Dave has promised them a whole bunch of stuff he can’t deliver, on account of all-around fuck-off-Scotty feelings in England (in fact, the one awesome silver lining is a tiny chance this referendum could ultimately topple Cameron).
If they opt out, things will get very chilly indeed. Lots of bruises and bad ideas. A commenter on Hot Air described this outcome as Venezuela with haggis.
Not too smug, though. The financial turbulence could be rough on the only constituency that matters — Badger House.
p.s. Re: the French caption. In the days of the guillotine, a favorite tattoo among French career criminals was a dotted line around the neck and “coupé ici”. I just. I dunno. Thought it was. Funny. I guess.
September 18, 2014 — 7:55 pm
Comments: 11
Ducks ate my Doritos
I suppose ducks’ll eat anything, but they seemed madly keen on Doritos.
We’re having a proper Indian Summer here, so we snuck out to Bodiam castle this afternoon to take advantage. We picked a nice spot on a bench with a view of the castle, unpacked our picnic lunch and the grounds crew parked a truck between us and the castle and began weed-whacking the bank. It’s been that kind of a day, really.
Still, I got to feed Doritos to a bunch of ducks, so not a total loss.
*picture courtesy Uncle B’s fancy new camera.
September 16, 2014 — 9:40 pm
Comments: 19
A dignified people…
If you want to read the article for some reason, click here. I won’t send you to the Sunday Sport — they want you to sign up to an account first.
I wonder if these stories are real, or if they just pay some poor bastard to use his mug for the purpose.
September 9, 2014 — 9:18 pm
Comments: 17
Dat lens flare
‘Nother beach day, while the weather holds. Beaches along our coast are mostly shingle, but that’s not nearly as uncomfortable as you might think. You can wriggle a bit and make quite a nice, comfy weasel nest. For your butt.
I’m soooo not ready to dive back into the week yet, so let’s talk about the weather. How’s yours? I thought we’d had it a couple of weeks ago when it turned damp and cold, but we’ve since had a bit of Indian Summer.
September 8, 2014 — 9:21 pm
Comments: 30
Ermegherd! I wernt wern!
Have you seen this thing?? It’s hooked up to a jetski on the other end and it swooshes around in the water like…oh, just go watch the video Uncle B took.
‘Twas the Rye Maritime Festival on Sunday. It’s usually one of the lesser local festivals, but the band was above average this year. So was the food. And then there was this thing.
For £90 I can have two hours of training on this. But I’d probably crush my skull against something. I figure I could crush my skull against water vapor, no prob. I’m talented like that.
September 1, 2014 — 9:24 pm
Comments: 14
Indulge me
You guys’ll have to forgive me; I love this flower festival stuff. It’s so weird and stupid and lovely.
The sheep are made out of teasels. The knight in the stained glass window is Sir William Cock. Here it is big and in color because you know you want it.
I’ll stop now. Season is over. No more flower festivals 🙁
Up next — BONFIRE SEASON!
August 26, 2014 — 8:58 pm
Comments: 19
A special message from Her Maj
Or Her Maj’s autopen, anyhoo. Another weekend, another flower festival. Actually, the last we’ll have for the year.
This is a holiday weekend, so there was one final one scheduled for today, but it rained like a bastiche and we didn’t go anywhere. I played Mass Effect and saved the universe. Also, Doritos and Coca-Cola.
As I am technically still on holiday, I bid you adieu. No, nobody had Richard Attenborough.
August 25, 2014 — 10:44 pm
Comments: 6
It ain’t over ’til the fat lady bumps and grinds
Welp, there it is: the official end of Summer. The circus has come to town. Actually, this circus comes to towns all around us beginning in about June, but we traditionally go when it reaches Rye, and we look upon it as the end of the fête season (and the beginning of the bonfire season).
We went last night. It’s a week early this year. That seems about right for this Summer (it’s been gorgeous for the most part, but it’s suddenly gotten chilly).
Every year, this one gets smaller and sadder and we wonder if we’ll see it again. This year, there’s a definite rumor that they won’t be able to use this field again. But if they turn up at all, we’ll go see them in some other town.
I didn’t bother taking a good camera this year. I never get any decent pictures, and last year they fussed at me for trying. I like this grainy cellphone picture Uncle B took anyway. This fat chick had a hula hoop act, and she was awesome. Seriously one of the biggest applause getters of the night.
So there you have it. There she is. Pack up the shorts, folks — it’s over.
August 22, 2014 — 7:58 pm
Comments: 12
Big questions
One last one from the flower festival: the washing up. They just picked a convenient tomb near the door and set up the wash basin. So, there you go.
In our own church celebrations, I’ve been shocked to see wine cooling in the baptismal font and people playing at boules among the graves.
I wish I could convey to you the English attitude to church, at least down here. Remember, I come from a place where church is intense and Jesus-y. The closest church to the family farm was Foot-Washing Baptist (we weren’t members, though). It’s just a whole ‘nother thing.
Church is obviously important to many here, and they put a lot of effort into keeping things going. It is very much about maintaining these beautiful and terribly expensive old buildings. This particular church pre-dates the Norman Conquest — it’s Saxon, for cri-yi.
But it would be a mistake to say the attitude is entirely material and not at all spiritual. There is a sense of the fitness of the ancient rituals, of observing the appropriate rites of birth, marriage and death and the seasonal observances. But, really, I do think many of these churchgoers believe in God and think their prayers go someplace.
It’s all very puzzling.
Now, the big question — the fact they’re nearly all Of A Certain Age, does it mean their kind will die out with this generation, or will the next generation of oldsters step in and take their place? In perpetuity?
August 21, 2014 — 9:51 pm
Comments: 16
Everything’s better with googly eyes
So this village church — the one with the cool tomb — was having its flower festival. That’s why we were there. I’ve posted about flower festivals before — I just love these things. They are so unspeakably weird.
What happens is, the congregation agrees on a theme, and people do flower arrangements based on the theme. Then they place them around the church — including supposedly sacred spaces. Going in, you’re given a program that describes the tableaux by the numbers. Then, at the end, there’s cake and tea.
If that doesn’t sound too weird to you, read on.
The theme of this show was Ladybird Books. Ladybird is a children’s book publisher going back to the Nineteenth C, much like our Little Golden Books. As we rounded the corner, the very first display was a giant decapitated Barbie head on a plinth. You know, like those big doll heads for girls to play with hairstyles. Only, this one didn’t have a neck, and instead of hair, it had long, long tendrils of raw wool hanging down over the drapery. And flowers.
I’m thinking, holy shit it’s the ISIS flower arrangement. I consult my program: Rapunzel. Huh.
There was the Pied Piper, which was a leather hat, flowers and many rubber rats. These googly-eyed vegetables (I have no idea). One old boy had done a large display of plastic dinosaurs and convincingly Jurassic-looking plants. Seriously, there were like thirty of these things all over the church.
Somebody played the organ and we all had tea and cake in the pews.
It’s not all women, but it is all old people. I’ve decided I like old people. Which is just as well, really.
August 20, 2014 — 10:39 pm
Comments: 6