Cousin Stinky? You bastards!
Today — as part of ongoing festivities — we did something we’ve been meaning to do for a while: visit Rudyard Kipling’s house. Bateman’s, it’s called. It’s not far away. I don’t know why we never got around to it, since we’re both huge Kipling fans.
His daughter left the whole thing, contents and all, to the National Trust, and they’ve kept it exactly as it was. His study, his bedroom, all the original furniture and books and carpets.
It’s Jacobean — 1630-something — so, you know, lots newer than Badger House. But still it has its charms. Actually, it was a lovely house, and yet there was something very sad about it. Impressive from the outside, but somehow quite small and intimate on the inside.
More pictures when I manage to offload them from the camera (oh, who am I kidding? I’m going to pinch some of Uncle B’s. He’s a much better photographer than I am, damn his eyes).
Meanwhile, this here is a wolverine carpet from Kipling’s study. Wolverines are, of course, members of the weasel fambly. What’s weird is, this one was quite a light blonde color. I thought (and a quick look at Google images confirms) that wolverines are mostly black, or dark red.
Somewhere in there is a “what’s dumber than it is mean?” joke.
May 5, 2010 — 11:30 pm
Comments: 57
Hooray for capitalism, writ small
Uncle Badger, my other half, is a keen gardener. “Keen” is a British word meaning “howling bugfuck obsessed.”
He alerted me to a little pocket of thriving capitalism I would never have imagined existed: eBay seed merchants.
Seeds are only good for a relatively short period of time, unless you cryogenically freeze them or something (I’m sure you know that, but there may be one or two ignorant plant-slayers such as myself out there). So to have viable seed for next year, you need a living plant this year. The big seed companies grow a huge variety of stuff, but there are thousands of rare and unusual plants that get left out.
And that’s where these guys come in — thousands of talented gardeners with an allotment or greenhouse and a bit of a special touch with a particular rare or desirable type of plant. Uncle B has ordered several batches of seed from eBay. They come promptly, neatly packaged in a little baggie with an instruction printout.
At £1 a packet, nobody is getting rich. But the sellers are making a bit of scratch doing something they love, and the buyers suddenly have inexpensive access to thousands of rare and interesting plants.
I love to watch amateurs find a way. Capitalism is like weed (warming to my plant theme), expanding to exploit every available crack in the pavement and skiff of earth.
It’s how you know conservative principles — things like free markets and nuclear families — are the right ideas: they’re the things people do naturally and spontaneously when you leave them alone.
April 27, 2010 — 11:07 pm
Comments: 19
Pff! You call THAT a quicker picker upper?
A cow orker from the Olde Countree recently visited me here at Badger Acres (first time I’ve heard an American accent not on TV in a year and a half). She asked me before she left if there was anything I wanted from home.
A couple rolls of Bounty paper towels, of course.
Plain white. Select-a-size.
They have Bounty here. Kinda. The Swedish company SCA bought the brand from Proctor and Gamble a few years back, then prompty rebranded it Plenty, proving once again that the only people who don’t get the whole “branding” thing are people who spend millions of dollars to buy up brands.
I’d never tried limey Bounty before, so I decided to splash out for a two-pack (thank you, Uncle B) just to see how it compares. I have to admit, the thirst pockets are quite acceptable. It is, however, three inches shorter and (it goes without saying) much skinnier. And you can just fuck right off if you think you can buy select-a-size.
These aren’t for the kitchen, of course. Too precious. I use them in my studio and honestly don’t know how Rembrandt could paint a damn thing without them.
The kind of towels we buy for the wiping of counters — they call it “kitchen roll” here — are store brand. An inch shorter still than Plenty, and I can blow a nostril bomb right through them, no problemo.
What, lame. You kidding? This is vintage Weasel. Second time I’ve posted on this topic.
April 20, 2010 — 10:57 pm
Comments: 31
An ignorant Yank’s lazy overview of British political parties
Oof. I reeeeally didn’t want to do this. British politics is hella depressing and, with heroic effort, I’ve managed to live here for a year and a half without learning much about it. But, as everybody’s favorite little brown mustelid abroad — and with an election coming up in three weeks — I suppose I must.
Deep breath. Here we go…
Right. These guys. In power for thirteen years, drove the country off a cliff, the current leader has all the charisma of a facial mole with a hair growing out of it. Result: not doing too badly at the polls. Why? Douche or Turd Syndrome, I think.
I was surprised to learn that Labour is a 20th Century party, founded in 1900. They compare fairly well with the Democrat party in the US, but they’re more honest about their socialism. They’ve been in power several times for fairly short periods and seemed a bit hapless before the Big One in ’97.
Yep, the Conservatives’ new logo is a little squiggly tree. If that doesn’t tell you everything you need to know about the party under David Cameron, then how about this: I was brushing my teeth this morning, listening to Radio 4 and there was — honest to god — a soundbite of Cameron saying, “if you want a more liberal Britain, vote Conservative.”
I almost swallowed my toothbrush.
Snubbed Thatcher. Only put up female candidates where he could. The sort of green who rides his bike to work while a limo drives behind him with his briefcase. Gone to great pains recently to explain that the Tories won’t balance the budget by cutting government.
I hate this man with the sort of searing flame that can only be extinguished with a double fistful of soft, soothing entrails. Whatever happens, Cameron MUST go down.
Okay, I totally don’t get the LibDems. I mean, I don’t get the distinction between them and Labour. They’re the leftist result of a 1988 merger between two 19th Century parties — the Liberal Party and the Social Democratic Party — and their function seems to be as a perpetual “other guys.” As in “yes, but what do the other guys say?” Or “fuck it — let’s vote for the other guys!”
Their polling took a ten point up-jump after the UK held its first ever Prime Ministerial TV debate, and the LibDem leader distinguished himself from the other two by not coming across as a barking spastic.
Ugh, these guys. Whatever the mess uncontrolled immigration has made of Britain, the BNP is still a bunch of creeps. And they’re leftists — of the blue-collar, pro-union variety. Think Archie Bunker without the charm.
The press describes them as far right, of course, because they’re bigots — while blandly admitting they pull votes away from Labour, not the Tories. It will be very interesting to see how they do in the elections. I anticipate a fair number of people will vote BNP — not because they wish them well and want them in power — but as an angry “fuck you!” to the political establishment. We shall see.
Whenever we go to a country fair or village fête, the UK Independence Party has a tent, manned by the same sweet blue-haired old ladies who sell chutney and homemade jams in the tent next door. UKIP has the right ideas — mainly getting Britain out from under the tyranny of the EU — but they haven’t got the hang of being a real, live national political party. Some financial scandals early in the life of the party didn’t help. Oh, and their logo is lavender on bright yellow, which is like unto being poked in the eye with a knitting needle.
But that’s where I’d vote if I could vote.
Because, bottom line, it simply DOES NOT MATTER who wins the election. There’s nothing much for Parliament to do; Brussels rules Britain. Did you know 70-80% of the laws of the land come from the European Union? And ain’t nothing the British parliament or prime minister — or, for that matter, Her Maj — can do to change any of them.
They can talk all they like about a “United States of Europe” but it’s a totally different proposition from the US of A. These people have been fighting horrible, bloody wars with each other for thousands of years, right up until a few decades ago. There are huge differences in ethnicity, legal system, culture, history and attitude — particularly between Britain and the Continent — and an ancient, deep well of ill-will.
In other words, almost all of Britain’s laws are being written by people who use “Anglo Saxon” as an insult. How do you think that’s working out?
UPDATE: Uncle B just read this and said I got the ancestry of the LibDems wrong. In actual fact, the Social Democratic Party was founded in blah blah blah blah, something something. Hope that clears it up; sorry for the error.
April 19, 2010 — 10:22 pm
Comments: 30
The kind of utter lameness you just won’t get anywhere else
Oops! Got distracted tonight and didn’t put together a proper blogpost. Whenever that happens, I just mosey over to the Daily Mail and pick the first headline that catches my eye.
And here you go: grave-robbing badgers! Dug themselves a sett under three 100-year-old graves, scattering human remains everywhere.
It is illegal to screw with a badger sett during the breeding season (which is now), so council staff are quietly collecting bones and waiting for the badgers to quit making whoopie. Though what the farmers generally do is smack them over the head with a shovel and leave them on the side of the road.
See how easy that was? Next time I get jammed up, y’all can go to the Daily Mail for yourself.
Oh, wait. One more. It’s a shig! It’s a peep! Naw, it’s just a pig with a woolly coat. Have a good weekend, everyone! If you don’t see me around Monday, somebody come dig me out of the volcanic ash.
April 16, 2010 — 9:33 pm
Comments: 19
Brace yourself. Maybe.
I’m sure you’ve heard that a volcanic eruption in Iceland has halted all air travel in the UK and much of Northern Europe. They’ve just extended it to tomorrow afternoon. The problem is that bits of volcanic junk can screw up engines and electronics, and the planes’ radar is blind to it.
It’s spooky with all the air traffic halted. Not as edgy as the days after September 11 — for obvious reasons — but still odd. Not many places in the South of England don’t have something of a constant drone from Gatwick and Heathrow.
There’s a scrap of worry it could be the start of something much worse, though. If this signals the beginning of an active volcano season, it could have serious weather implications.
Volcanoes were thought to play a major role in the famously terrible Summer of 1816 (which is where the expression Eighteen Hundred and Froze to Death comes from). And an early active period may have nearly extinctered our whole species 70,000 years ago. There may have been as few as 5,000 of us left afterwards, meaning we are all inbred hillbillies.
Yep. Lethal global cooling.
But let’s think happy thoughts. Here’s our Mrs Compton at today’s Tea Party protests. I think she’s the one with the hat and the sunglasses.
If not…may I say what a lovely glossy coat you have, ma’am?
April 15, 2010 — 10:21 pm
Comments: 21
I’m becoming my mother, part kzillionty
We stopped here to buy eggs today. Yup, it’s a thatched roof. There’s a fair number around.
The construction of this little cottage is unusual — the walls are made of small wooden logs set into the walls sideways — with the cut ends sticking out — and then mortared around.
I don’t know if it’s genuinely old or not. It can be hard to tell.
We’re thinking of getting a few chickens ourselves. I’ve mentioned it.
I hated our fucking chickens when I was a kid and swore I’d never own one, but…I dunno. I feel seriously under-animaled. And the cat won’t let me have a kitten.
Cons. We have a small garden, so there’s not much room. Chickens live for ten years but only lay for five — and we’re huge pussies about killing stuff. Particularly stuff we know by name. Also, we wake up to a garden full of fox poop every morning, so we can expect to hear a lot of beGAAKing in the middle of the night until Monsieur Reynard digs his way in and makes a savage end to the whole experiment.
Pros. Behbeh chickens!
April 14, 2010 — 10:17 pm
Comments: 38
A question for the border-dwelling peeps
The whole of Olde England is about the size of New England, so weather broadcasts that take in the whole country are pretty practical. They have local forecasts, too, but they don’t tell you much more.
Weather forecasts here suck amazingly, on account of it’s a little island with a big cold ocean on one side and a continent on the other.
I get a kick out of the map, though. They report the weather for Northern Ireland, but nothing at all about the south. Slice it right off at the boundary. I pointed that out to Uncle B, and he said, “well, do your weather reports include Canada and Mexico?”
Ummm…hm. Do they?
The big national ones don’t, that I recall. Except to say things like, “there’s a mass of cold air coming down from Canada.” I don’t know about local forecasts, though.
How about it, people who live near the borders? Do your local forecasts include nearby cities outside the US?
And so lamely ends a week of blogging lameness. Hey, Spring finally made it to our little corner of paradise. I’ve been out playing in the sunnenshine!
Have a good weekend, everyone!
April 9, 2010 — 10:05 pm
Comments: 24
Went for a drive today…
Uncle B once suggested we look for a house here. I suspect his motives. I suggested Dead Man’s Lane instead.
Both are in Rye, a town we love and looked at houses in. But not Dumb Woman’s Lane or Dead Man’s Lane — we couldn’t afford it.
April 8, 2010 — 8:51 pm
Comments: 26
Look out there, Mister President
Oh, come on…I can’t be the only one who pictured the above when Drudge went with this image for his headliner today.
I could never understand what was supposed to be so moving about Palestinian youth throwing rocks at tanks. Standing stock still in front of a line of tanks, like the Tiananmen Square dude — that’s impressive.
Throwing rocks at gigantic armored vehicles? That’s retarded.
March 30, 2010 — 9:52 pm
Comments: 25