Monday 23 July 2007

Rubbish man

Today's gripe is about people who constantly bemoan the impingements of what they(mistakenly) think is Political Correctness on their daily lives yet who cravenly kowtow to it if they ever come across it in real life (as opposed to on the Daily Mail front page).
 
Take as an example this recent instance of the black Refuse Collector who was instructed by a no-neurone plank to remove his England Flag bandanna in case it was perceived as racist by the public.  Ok, it was a plank giving out with twattish instructions but excuse me, the black guy was if anything even more of a plank for taking his bandanna off.
Anyone with even one active synapse surely to goodness knows without having to think about it that had the black guy stuck to his perfectly legitimate and legal right to wear that bandanna and if he'd been reprimanded or even sacked as a result then he'd have had a good case to take to an Industrial Tribunal, a good case for a Compensation claim, a possible case of racism in the workplace and he'd have been hailed as a National Hero of ThisOnceGreatNation by the Mail.
 
But no.  He took it off.  If I saw him tomorrow I'd slap him. I really don't know quite what it is that ails British people that they no longer know their rights or seemingly know a twat when they see and hear one.  What wimps they are.  No wonder we have a craven government - after all,  what better does a craven populace deserve?
 
The absolute pits tho is that it's the very same type of no-brain who impotently witter about how PC is ruining British life but who don't take a stand themselves who then have the absolute bare-faced gall to complain that ordinary everyday Muslim wives and Mums aren't demonstrating with placards in the street decrying and naming would-be terrorists from their faith communities.
Well forgive me for saying so, but being beheaded is a tad more scarey than having someone give you a disdainful look - which is the worst that PC types dish out - and I know because I'm one of them.
 
 

Monday 16 July 2007

Cross words

Yesterday evening I watched a South Bank Show programme about the Barnsley poet, Ian McMillan and you'll like as not think I'm weird, but it really made me cross.  McMillan was shown in a variety of situations where he was being paid, as a poet, to help develop speech and literacy skills. 
 
A prime example of his style was seen in his work with a group of immigrants learning English.  He asked them to say where they'd come from and he wrote their answers on a blackboard thus:
Pakistan
Slovakia
Afghanistan
Germany
 
then he paused and said, "these are great words, but to get a rhythm we need to use 'and', then we have:
Pakistan
Slovakia
Afghanistan and
Germany
 
There, it now has great words and rhythm,  Good work!"
 
Quite how this helped people who need functional language to better their chances in this country goodness only knows altho I daresay they found a few more words to describe the waste of their time once he'd left the building. 
 
He then was shown in a primary school where he said his aim was to 'loosen up' the children's language. 
Now I always thought that children were famed for having a distinctively 'loose' way with language.  So much so in fact that they frequently either make their own words up or use words to mean the exact opposite of their dictionary definition. 
Nevertheless, these children called out various commonplace words which McMillan received with cries of fantastic!' and 'brilliant!', as he listed them and then asked for conjunctives.  Having stuck several 'and's and 'but's into the list he told the children that this demonstrated that anyone can be creative and anyone can write poetry.
 
Well, I have news
for the Barnsley rhymster,
prose cut up
into brief phrases or
single
words
is not poetry.  Even tho
to the unthinking
eye
it may appear
similar and is often
touted as
such by those
who should, and often do,
know better.
 
Poetry requires precise language specifically selected to convey the content in a closely focused and economical way which presents recognisable truths or insights which strike home at both the heart and the intellect.  Form and structure, metre and rhythm are essential not only to the writing of good poetry but to the reading of it too. 
 
Form and
Structure and
Metre and
Rhythm
And CONTENT!
 
I loathe and abhor the way so-called poets and teachers of literacy skills like McMillan patronise people by presenting them with banal rubbish and demean their intelligence by crying 'fantastic', 'brilliant' and 'great!!' when they suggest commonplace words like 'and'.
 
Barnsley poet?  The man is a cheap shyster; an intellectual pygmy populist of the type which is set to ruin English language poetry. 
 
I'd shoot
the fraudulent
bugger myself
given half
a chance.

Tuesday 10 July 2007

It's just the Gypsy in my soul

My paternal grandfather's mother was a Gypsy and my husband's maternal grandmother was too.  My lot were china riveters, chair caners and catchers and sellers of wild songbirds and my husband's were much posher with china shops in the Cotswolds.  
It's not something which often arises in conversation but when it does there seems to be a more than 50% chance that whoever I tell also has some Gypsy forebears, for example one of my sons in law I recently discovered and a neighbour at our old house.  I wondered if anyone reading this shared a Gypsy inheritance too - I wouldn't be at all surprised. 
C'mon, fess up and then we can swap curses :O)

Monday 9 July 2007

Dear God..

Letters written to God in Sunday School. (allegedly)

Dear GOD,
Are you really invisible or is that just a trick? -Lucy

Dear GOD,
Did you mean for the giraffe to look like that or was it an accident?
-Norma

Dear GOD,
Instead of letting people die and having to make new ones, why don't You just keep the ones You have now? -Jane

Dear GOD,
What does it mean You are a Jealous God? I thought You had everything.
-Jane

Dear GOD,
I think the stapler is one of your greatest inventions. -Ruth M.

Dear GOD,

Please send me a pony. I never asked for anything before, You can look it up. -Bruce

Dear GOD,
We read Thomas Edison made light. But in school they said You did it. So I bet he stoled your idea. Sincerely, Donna

And my own fave:

Dear GOD,
If You watch me in church Sunday, I'll show You my new shoes.
-Mickey D.

Wednesday 4 July 2007

Here's lookin at you kid.

I take back everything I said about my husband and his red eyeball a couple of months ago.  Poppy seed heads on stiff stalks are vicious buggers.

Mind, it'll make my 'looks' and whispered threats much more effective this weekend.  And my son in law already thinks I'm the scariest woman he's ever met!  <g>

Tuesday 3 July 2007

A plea from the heart.

I have a mix of visitors, 4 adults and 4 children, coming to stay from Thursday evening until Monday late afternoon.  In the party is one person who has a very serious allergy to egg and cannot under any circumstances have even a trace of egg without needing to go to hospital, one who has an intolerance to all dairy which causes vomiting and a rash, and 4 who are very very strict vegetarians.  3 of the children are forbidden all nuts and all 4 are forbidden sugar and salt.
I'm thanking my lucky stars that the one with dairy intolerance has grown out of her wheat intolerance, else it would all be totally intolerable.
So, any ideas for 4 lunch and 4 dinner menus for that lot?
 
No?  You don't know how lucky you are that you needn't give a damn <g>

Monday 2 July 2007

He speaks the language too!!

On Saturday while carrying his bottle of juice Felix had his 900th tumble of the day.  The rim of the teat holder caught him between the eyebrows causing a very nasty bruise and a pigeon's egg sized lump.  His Mum called me this morning to say that the blue and purple bruise had extended downwards over the bridge of his nose (if you could call it a bridge) and that the space between the bruise and his hairline had turned red and the lump not diminished at all. 
Poor little soul, tho he stopped shrieking and was fine and dandy within 3 minutes.  She then told me that she had taken him to the library dressed in his sister's pink fringed poncho as both of his coats had gone awol, probably appropriated for teddy bears.
 
So, I said, do people at the library think you've given birth to a transvestite Klingon?  She put the phone down on me!  Now I ask you, who was in the right???