Posted here are two of my favourite Christmas films. Well, one is a film and the other was a television special.

The first is Mixed Nuts from 1994, which takes place in Venice Beach, California where an unlikely group of people are thrust together through the failure of a suicide helpline and a shooting. Starring Steve Martin, Madeline Kahn, Juliette Lewis, Rita Wilson and a small part by Adam Sandler. Prepare to laugh at their misfortune! Below is part 1.

My second feature today is from 1988, Blackadder’s Christmas Carol, which is a spoof on the Charles Dickens’ classic, featuring Rowan Atkinson and Tony Robinson with Hugh Laurie (best known from House) narrating and playing various idiotic princes. Watch as Blackadder, normally wry and evil, plays the good, generous man and then witnesses his awful ancestors. Hilarity ensues. Here’s part 1.

Stay Gold

Never watching House with a straight face again.

(Hugh Laurie as Prince Regent, George IV in Blackadder The Third)

Give the guy a break. Look what he had to work with.

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Watching an old episode of ‘Friends’ the other night – the one where Ross says the wrong name during his wedding to Emily -  I was reminded of the night I played some songs in front of Jennifer Saunders. Jennifer’s daughter was playing that night too as it was an open mic night at a local bar. I was due to go on after her and it only dawned on me as I was checking my guitar was in tune over in a quiet corner that Jennifer was in the front row, having come to watch her daughter’s performance. She looked softer than her ‘Absolutely Fabulous’ persona and seemed to be enjoying the evening. When I stepped out onto the stage for my slot I tried not to stare directly at her as I knew it would make me feel nervous. I don’t know why, there was a time when I kept randomly bumping into celebrities. Then again, when it is random you don’t ever really get a chance to get used to the idea. I mean you can’t wonder around life think ‘Oh I’m Mr Planet, I bump into famous people.’ Not unless you want people to use the word ‘arrogant’ when they describe you.

But it is true that I’ve encountered celebrities in unexpected situations. Once I was heading to a band rehearsal and walking over a bridge in town. Coming the other way was a blond chap who seemed a little familiar. ‘He looks like David McCallum out of ‘The Man From U.N.C.L.E.’,’ I thought to myself as he drew nearer. “You’re David McCallum,” I suddenly said. “Yes I am,” he replied, “And who are you?” “Oh I’m just a bloke on the street hassling you,” I said, realising that it was really rather rude of me to just blurt out my thoughts at him. He extended his hand and said “Hello bloke on the street.” “Hello David McCallum.” He then pointed at my guitar case and said “You playing tonight?” “Rehearsing with my band,” I told him. “You any good?” he wanted to know. “I’m not bad.” He smiled and said “Well I’m not bad at acting so you never know.” And that was that. He had to go, I was late for rehearsal and I forgot to ask him the most important question which was, ‘What are you doing in this two-bit nowhere town I call home?’

Some years later, when I was at university, I was standing at the queue for the ATM with my son, who was probably about eight or nine years old at the time. There were two ATM machines and the guy alongside me in the other queue looked familiar. Oh my word, he was Dave Davies, guitar player of The Kinks, one of my favourite sixties bands. “Hello guitar man,” I said. He turned round and smiled and said something quite softly. I remembered as he spoke that he’d suffered a stroke a few years back so he might not want people bugging him on the street. So I just gave him the thumbs-up, which he returned. We both stepped forward to the cash machines at the same time and when he’d done he tapped me on the shoulder and said goodbye with another thumbs-up. “Who was that?” asked my son. “He was in a huge band in the sixties.” “Bigger than McFly?” he asked (for the Americans, McFly were the equivalent of the Jonas Brothers over here for a year or two). “Well sort of,” I replied, “But even bigger and much more talented.” “Cool.” And I had to agree, how very cool to just bump into Dave Davies while waiting to draw some money out of the bank.

In similar fashion I have met Donald Sutherland, David Suchet (who plays Poirot over here in the UK), Hugh Cornwell of The Stranglers, Tony Robinson (Baldrick from ‘Blackadder’), and several other minor celebs. But the famous person I refused to get excited about was a member of the royal family. It was my first year at university and I was walking down a corridor talking with a friend. My shoulder brushed against the shoulder of somebody coming the other way. “Sorry,” I said and carried on walking. My friend was agitated. “Oh my god! Do you know who that was?” “Nope,” I said, as I hadn’t even looked up. “That’s Peter Philips.” “Er, and he is?” “Princess Anne’s son. The Queen’s grandson.” I wondered what my friend expected me to do with this information. Run after Peter Philips and throw myself prostrate before him uttering profuse apologies? I grinned. “I doubt very much he’ll have me sent to the tower for brushing his shoulder, especially as I’ve said sorry. He probably likes being treated like a normal person anyway.” My friend still looked doubtful but, as my head was still attached to my shoulders, I assumed I was right and carried on walking.

Zondag heb ik me op enkele Amruts geworpen. Ik zette de nieuwe botteling voor Crombé tegenover de Fusion. De Blackadder op 46% toonte zich een ideale sparring partner.
Zoals ondertussen gemeenzaam geweten, is Amrut een beetje een hype de laatste tijd. Door het Indische klimaat rijpt de whisky er een pak sneller dan in Schotland, wat resulteert in erg mature vier-, vijfjarige whisky’s. Gezien de gigantische Angel’s Share zullen we waarschijnlijk nooit een Amrut 20Y of 30y kunnen drinken, tegen die tijd zal er immers niet veel vocht meer in het vat overblijven.
Thuishaven van Amrut is Bangalore. Managing director is Neelakanta Rao Jagdale, Ashok Chokalingam is er International sales manager en als dusdanig het sympatieke gezicht van Amrut in onze contreien.

Ik begon met de Crombé, voluit Amrut 2004/2009, 52%, OB for Crombé, cask 2930, 221 bottles. Mijn eerste impressie was “mwa, ja, niet slecht”, maar na een tijdje werd die “niet slecht” toch een serieus understatement. Hij heeft een zeer subtiele neus, die zoet en bloemig start. Honing. Daarna krijgen we gras, hooi en hars. Vervolgens komen er kruiden door, speculaas en noten, tabak ook. Opgelegde peren. Ja, die neus evolueert echt héél mooi. Op de tong is deze Amrut fruitig (citrus vooral) en kruidig (peper). Ook hier komt wat hars bovendrijven, wat een aangename bitterheid geeft. Hij blijft lang hangen, gaat naadloos over in een lekkere bitterzoete afdronk.
Wel, ik vind dit geen gemakkelijke whisky, hij heeft echt wat tijd nodig om zich volledig te geven, maar dan toont hij zich een beauty.

De Amrut Blackadder die ik tussendoor dronk, moet het meer hebben van zijn pure fruitigheid, zoete fruitigheid, zalige zoete fruitigheid. Ja, ik blijf deze een absolute stunner vinden.

Dan de Fusion, Amrut Fusion, 50%, OB 2009, batch #01, die al door heel wat mensen de hemel in is geprezen. De naam Fusion verwijst naar het gebruik van twee verschillende soorten malt, nl. geturfde Schotse malt en niet-geturfde Indische malt. Deze laatste komt van gerst geoogst in de provincies Punjab en Rajasthan, aan de voet van de Himalaya. Beide maltsoorten werden apart verwerkt, gedistilleerd én gerijpt. Het geheel werd na een viertal jaar rijping vermengd in bourbonvaten en dit in een verhouding van 25% geturfd en 75% niet-geturfd distillaat. Het resultaat is een zeer zachte whisky die inderdaad een mooie mix biedt van subtiele turf en rijke fruitigheid. In de neus geeft dit naast de fruitige turf nog heel wat zoete associaties, ik denk aan kandijsuiker, cake, rozijnen (op rum!) en crème brûlée. Vooral dat laatste wordt na enige tijd zeer duidelijk. De eveneens zachte en frisse smaak bouwt hier wat op voort: turf, fruit, vanille, hout, bloemen ook. Gho, ik weet niet of het mij ligt maar dat laatste nijgt een beetje naar iets geparfumeerd dat ik niet onmiddelijk kan thuisbrengen, zonder echt te storen evenwel (het is geen jaren tachtig Bowmore). Behoorlijk lange finish met terugkerend hout, fruit en turf.

Scores? 86/100 voor de Fusion, 89/100 voor de Crombé. Aan nog geen 40 euro de fles… kopen die handel!

From one British comic to another. The man that started Monday’s night of laughs, actually. I was watching a vintage clip of Rowan Atkinson yesterday that he did with John Cleese when I clicked on the Eddie Izzard related video that started me down the path of laughing to the point of almost asthma. The vintage clip was funny, but I like this one better.

Can’t remember when I first saw stand-up acts. It was on TV for sure. Maybe when I was on holiday overseas as a kid. I recall some really funny ones. And some that were more profanity than comedy. (I didn’t mind the profanity; it’s just that at some point it was profane just for the shock value and the jokes weren’t funny at all.)

Anyway, at the time I saw this, I thought it was brilliant. The amazing part, the whole Atkinson special has some hilarious physical comedy skits à la Mr Bean alongside his monologue sets. Amazing. The man wasn’t just scalpel-sharp in his wit, he was versatile as well. And that was even before I started on Blackadder.

But he’s more than just funny. In a BBC interview with Parkinson about the narrow gap between tragedy and comedy, Atkinson said: ”The darker, more serious the backdrop into which you set your comedy, sometimes the brighter your little sparks of comedy sets out in sharp relief against it.” They were talking about the famous and poignant poppy-filled last scene of Blackadder. Good chap.

I love Shakespeare. Obviously.

But every so often (and usually when I am trying to memorize lines), I want to take a leaf out of Blackadder’s book:

I actually really liked Branagh’s Hamlet, though (except for the absurd chandelier part. You know the one). So we’ll just agree to disagree there, Rowan Atkinson.

It is 7 November 2009, I’m enjoying a glass of Pedro Ximinez sherry after a delightful dinner while listening to the ticking of an early trench watch (dated from 1919). I am pondering Armistice Day and today’s subject, Blackadder Goes Forth. The First World War was ‘The Great War’ and ‘The War to End All Wars’. Sadly, it was not to be and the war ended 90 years ago in 1919 when the Armistice was signed. I have always had a deep interest in the First World War as a war, in the West, of stagnation, trenches, and endless attrition. The war at sea is more fluid but not always dramatic. In the East and in Africa or the Near East, the war is more mobile and cavalry even makes an appearance.

Blackadder, of course, is a series which needs very little introduction to a British audience and, to some degree, to an American audience. We follow the comic misadventures of these men who are at the mercy of General Melchett (Stephen Fry) at the back lines. A classic scene in the first episode sees our heroes ostensibly sent forward to attack German lines while Melchett and Captain Darling (Tim McInnerny) sit, enjoying their dinner (filet mignon with sauce bearnaise) and a fine wine. Unbeknownst to them, Captain Blackadder (Rowan Atkinson), Private Baldrick (Tony Robinson), and Lieutenant George (Hugh Laurie) were pretending to be chefs (a plan concocted by Blackadder in desperation). In the background of the chicanery and the antics, we understand that the war for the man in the trenches was deeply unpleasant and that many certainly felt as if they were being sent forward with no real purpose. Indeed, one gets the impression from our historical sources that many of the generals did not seem to understand that the war was now one of attrition and that tactics from the last war would not be of service now.

We watch other attempts to get out of the trenches, as Blackadder and his men take to the skies to become one of the ‘20 minuters’. Yet, the most powerful episode is the final episode and we watch our heroes contemplate what is likely to be the end of the war for them. In an attempt to reach Berlin, they have been ordered to make a big push. The humour of the series remains but there is an edge of melancholy to it and you feel the dread of the characters as they contemplate their mortality. This is a sharp change in direction as the earlier episodes were comedic (even as Blackadder faced a firing squad) and you knew that our chaps would muddle through. Blackadder attempts to feign madness to get out of the war (wearing underpants on his head, two pencils in his nose, and he answers ‘Wibble’ to every question posed to him). Baldrick composes a war poem which, as par for the course, is not very good. The most poignant thing he contributes is a question to Blackadder on why the war began and the answer describes the political situation between the Triple Alliance and the Triple Entente and the faulty premise that two militarily strong coalitions would prevent a war, which was ‘bollocks’. The casualties of the war are brought home when George, who is enthusiastic about this big push, is asked by Blackadder how many of his friends from 1914 survived the war to this date. George has a think (a difficult task for him) and realises he is the last one of his Cambridge group still alive. Speaking from my own experiences, this reminds me of many of the plaques I saw in train stations or at Oxbridge colleges, among many other locales, which were put up in remembrance of the war dead and the many promising officers and soldiers whose lives were cut short.

Joining them is Darling, who has been sent to the front as a gift by Melchett (who seems to think that all men must want to go over the top). When he arrives in the trenches, to the surprise of the others, Darling remarks that all he wrote in his diary, after being asked how he feels, was the word ‘Bugger’. As Blackadder climbs up the ladder he notes that no one ‘…would notice another mad man around here’ and he wishes everyone luck as they go over the top. It is a sad ending with that commentary by Blackadder on the war when his attempt to escape the push failed. There is almost a reprieve as the guns fall silent and Darling smiles and looks hopeful, ‘The Great War, 1914 to 1917′ he says, before he is informed that it is merely their own guns stopping to give the Germans a sporting chance with their own artillery. They go over the top and, well, you will have to find out for yourself if you do not already know. This is no ‘All Quiet on the Western Front’ but it captures the feel of the Great War and the humour can vary from grim to just outlandish parody: a fitting way to describe the First World War at times.

To mark Armistice Week Vulpes Libris is running a series of five features and reviews linked by the common theme of  ‘war’ – followed on Saturday by a little light relief from the final frontier  …

~~~o~~~

Opening the week on Monday, Jackie contemplates love and loss in wartime France in Charlotte Gray by Sebastian Faulks.

On Tuesday, we have Blackadder Goes Forth: Michael survives the Great War, 1914-1917. Wait … bugger!

On Wednesday and Thursday we are running a two-part interview with popular Vulpes guest Renate Benedict, who tells us about her remarkable parents and what happened to her and her family in Nazi Germany before, during and after Kristallnacht, November 1938.

Then, on Friday, in the last of our Armistice-themed pieces, Lisa loses herself in Libby Cone’s haunting War on the Margins.

Kirsty changes the mood completely on Saturday when she boldly goes ahead and tells us why she loves the original cast Star Trek films – and why Spock is one of the great fictional creations.

~~~o~~~

(The striking image of Canada Bereft, from the Canadian National Vimy Memorial is courtesy of itmpa on Flickr, and reproduced under a Creative Commons licence.)

It’s official; Balfours Beatty has acquired PB.  This will create a new giant in the industry and should cause growth for both companies. The merger and integration of two quality oriented firms can cause a terrific synergy. This seems to be a case where these firms are concerned. And, the new economy of scale should allow both to expand in a world where engineering and construction firms are considered too small to compete with ten or fifteen thousand employees.  Their service lines are compatible.

The bit of humor is that the secret talks were called Project Blackadder. Rowan Atkinson must be amused. New Civil Engineer had an interesting article on this. Here is the link: http://www.nce.co.uk/5208465.article

If you’ve nothing better to do, staring down the barrel of another six weeks until the end of term, you might like to start looking forward to the glut of movies that get released for the summer holidays. In amongst them are movies adapted from two classic books: A Christmas carol by Charles Dickens and Where the wild things are by Maurice Sendak.

I think A Christmas carol has been done to death – there have been so many TV, movie and pantomine productions of it – The Muppets did a version, and so did Blackadder - even Barbie has her little plastic heart warmed. Plus, this one’s got Jim Carrey as Scrooge and all three of the Ghosts of Christmas (you know, Past, Present and Future), and I’ve already seen the movie of Dr Seuss’ The Grinch who stole Christmas, so I figure that’s enough for me of Carrey going from an unmitigated grump to an all round nice bloke through the healing joy of Christmas.

Cynical? Maybe.

BUT I’m way, way, way excited about Where the wild things are. I love that book and the photos of the movie are amazing – they look exactly like Sendak’s illustrations. I’m just hoping that they’ve done as good a job with the plot and dialogue – I imagine there are a few challenges making a full length movie out of a picture book.

What does everyone else think – will you be seeing Max in his wolf suit, or Scrooge in his nightcap?

Antidisestablishmentarianism

n. A political philosophy opposed to the separation of a religious group (“church”) and a government (“state”), esp. the belief held by those in 19th century England opposed to separating the Anglican church from the civil government.

A quick search produces no noteworthy quotations making use of this word for its actual function. Indeed, it’s not the word of the day because it could possibly be useful to you, but because it’s so commonly utilized by sesquipedalian-wannabes who haven’t the slightest idea what it means.

I’ll be back before you can say ‘Antidisestablishmentarianism‘.
– Edmund Blackadder III

Extraordinary. There’s no other word for it. Antidisestablishmentarianism extraordinary, that is.
– Murphy, Rayman 3

I think we all know why. Anti-taco legislation! Disestablishmentarianism!
Turkatron, Aqua Teen Hunger Force

Etymology Pretty simple, really… Establishment, plus “dis” to end that establishment, plus “anti” to oppose ending it, and with -arianism to refer to it as a cohesive movement.

“To nic” – powiedział podobno arcyksiążę Ferdynand tuż po tym, jak strzelono do niego 28 czerwca 1914 roku. Okazało się jednak, że to nie było “nic”, tylko początek najbardziej krwawej i bezsensownej wojny w dziejach. Nie tak medialnej jak II wojna światowa – temat tak wyeksploatowany, że według zapowiedzi Brada Pitta “Bękarty wojny” mają wyczerpać go w ostateczności. Nie wiem, nie widziałam, ponoć film dobry.

Nie jestem ekspertem i na wojnę patrzę jedynie ze swojego cywilnego punktu widzenia. Tak się po prostu złożyło, że jedne z najbardziej utwierdzających mnie w pacyfizmie dzieł opowiada właśnie o I WŚ i z braku lepszych zajęć postanowiłam je tu opisać. Poniższe zestawienie jest dość ryzykowne, ale trzeba łamać schematy…

Erich Maria Remarque – “Na Zachodzie bez zmian”

Później zmieniamy nasze miejsce i kładziemy się z powrotem, by grać w karty. Gdyż to umiemy: grać w karty, kląć i prowadzić wojnę. Niezbyt to wiele, jak na dwadzieścia lat – za wiele, jak na dwadzieścia lat.

Krótka książka, która w bardzo przystępny, prosty sposób ukazuje rozmiary zniszczeń, jakie wojna dokonuje w ludziach – szczególnie młodych. Wcześniej jakoś nie zdawałam sobie sprawy z tych różnic – starsi żołnierze mieli rodzinę i życie, do której mogli wrócić, a 20-latkowie, którzy przybyli na front niemal wprost ze szkolnej ławy, nie mieli tak naprawdę żadnego punktu zaczepienia. Po powrocie nie czekało ich nic – przeżyli za dużo, żeby wrócić do poprzedniego życia, a jednocześnie za mało, żeby zacząć nowe.
Największą zaletą tej książki – poza treścią – jest jej idealne wyważenie. Napisana bez histerii i patosu, ale też nie całkiem na zimno. Ciekawe jest też ukazanie wojny od strony “tych złych” – Niemców. Polecam każdemu.

Teraz szykujcie się na szok, bo stawianie tych książek obok siebie to prawdopodobnie czystej wody profanacja:

Lucy M. Montgomery – “Rilla ze Złotego Brzegu”

Na pierwszej stronie “Enterprise” widniał wielki, czarny nagłówek, który głosił, że w miejscowości o dziwacznej nazwie Sarajewo doszło do zamachu na jakiegoś arcyksięcia Ferdynanda czy kogoś tam. Zuzanna jednak nie zatrzymywała się dłużej nad tak nieciekawymi, błahymi sprawami – szukała czegoś naprawdę istotnego. O – właśnie! “Nowinki z Glen St. Mary”.

Tak zaczyna się ta książka i ten beztroski nastrój utrzymuje się, dopóki do sielskiego świata kanadyjskiej prowincji nie wkracza nagle brutalnie wielka polityka. Kto może, zaciąga się do wojska. Z początku wszyscy łudzą się, że wszystko skończy się w przeciągu kilku miesięcy, z czasem jednak tracą złudzenia i uczą się żyć z nieodłącznym strachem przed kolejnymi wiadomościami, listami, telefonami…
Książki L.M. Montgomery są może naiwne i przesłodzone, ale jeśli chodzi o różne obyczajowe obserwacje i smaczki, są po prostu bezcenne. “Rilla…” to najlepsza część cyklu o Ani z Zielonego Wzgórza. Świetnie ukazuje wpływ wojny na ludzi, którzy byli setki kilometrów od niej i specyficzny punkt widzenia osób, które wojnę znały do tej pory tylko z poezji Homera. No i powiedzmy sobie otwarcie – wojna, która była w stanie zatruć nawet sielankowy świat “Ani…”, musiała być straszna.

A teraz jeszcze gorzej:

“Czarna Żmija – Jak spędziłem I wojnę światową”

Siedzę tu od Bożego Narodzenia 1914, od tamtej pory miliony ludzi zginęły, a my się posunęliśmy naprzód tyle co astmatyczna mrówka z ciężkimi zakupami.

Była armia niemiecka, czas na stronę angielską.
Cała czwarta seria (6 odcinków) “Czarnej Żmii” to humor znany z poprzednich części, tu nabierający jednak najwięcej goryczy. Krótka i tylko pozornie lekka lekcja historii o tamtych czasach – niby sitcom, ale ujmujący historię lepiej i pod pewnymi względami głębiej niż podręczniki. Bezsens wojny uzmysławiają nam cały czas ironiczne komentarze głównego bohatera, który jako jedyny nazywa rzeczy po imieniu, ale jest też tam taka jedna scena – chwila zupełnie niespodziewanej powagi – która poruszyła mną bardziej niż masa wojennych produkcji, które miałam okazję oglądać.
Poza tym zawsze warto zobaczyć Hugh Lauriego w jak dla mnie życiowej roli Jerzego – totalnego imbecyla

Dziękuję za uwagę.
(Tytuł z piosenki Edmunda Fettinga – ma uniwersalny przekaz i kocham ją od pierwszego usłyszenia.)

Stephen Fry is quite possibly my favorite comedian of all time.  Have you heard of him?  He’s a British comedian and isn’t as well-known in the United States as in England, but you might recognize him for his work with Hugh Laurie (now the star of House) in A Bit of Fry and Laurie and Jeeves and Wooster and with both Hugh Laurie and Rowan Atkinson (of Mr. Bean fame) in Blackadder.  Fry has many comedic talents, but what I admire most about him is his sense for the funny and absurd in the English language.  Here are a few of my favorite of his sketches that highlight his language genius:

Ik ben een groot liefhebber van Engelse humor. Van de absurdistische grappen van Monty Python tot en met de verfijnde grappen van PG Wodehouse in zijn Jeeves boeken.

Eén van mijn absolute favorieten is Stephen Fry. Deze man heeft (als zoveel komische acteurs) het vermogen overdreven droog te reageren op de situatie waar hij in terecht komt. Begon ooit met Hugh Laurie (nu onder andere in House) de avondshow Fry and Laurie, maar was ook te zien in de TV serie ‘Jeeves and Wooster’ en Blackadder.

Als gezegd, één van mijn favorieten.

Twee weken terug was hij te gast in het programma Top Gear (over favorieten gesproken). Ik zeg nu wel twee weken terug, maar het is natuurlijk de uitzending van twee weken geleden, die in werkelijkheid ergens in maart al in de UK is uitgezonden.

Voordat hij zijn rondje als ‘star in the reasonably priced car’ ging maken sprak Jeremy Clarkson met hem over Twitter. Fry twittert en fanatiek, Heeft inmiddels 500.000 mensen die hem volgen!

Weer één over Twitter! Wat is dat toch met dat Twitter!

Een tijdje terug hoorde ik dat jongeren Twitter vooral iets zagen voor ‘ouderen’ die toch hip willen doen. Ikzelf heb nooit de toegevoegde waarde gezien, maar nu (door Fry) was ik echt nieuwsgierig geworden.

Toch maar even een blik werpen.

Voor mensen die echt niet weten wat het is, met Twitter worden korte berichten de wereld ingestuurd, die weer te volgen zijn via mobiele telefoon, internet en ga zo maar door. Waar je dan aan moet denken?

‘Naar de opera. Wordt een lange avond’, of ‘Indisch eten niet goed gevallen, stuur een bericht na iedere scheet’. Absoluut geen interessante informatie als ik het stuur, maar Stephen Fry!

Van Stephen wil je alles weten. Dat hij kwijlend met zijn nieuwe iPod Nano aan het spelen is, dat hij naar een uitvoering van de Messias van Händel gaat, dat hij 2 uur vast zit bij Kings Cross. Alles wil je weten, echt geloof me.

Inmiddels raakte ik over het toppunt van mijn verslaving heen. Na een dikke week op ieder bericht gewacht te hebben, merkte ik dat ik wat meer ontspannen werd tussen de berichten in.

Toen ontdekte ik, dat je ook kan reageren op berichten. Je gaat natuurlijk niet op alles reageren, maar voor de lol stuurde ik op een Tweet van Stephen (ben eigenlijk de inhoud van het bericht al weer kwijt) de reply dat Jeeves dit ook zou doen (uiteraard in het Engels). Op het moment dat ik de boel verstuurde kreeg ik zo’n lekker belangrijk gevoel over me heen. Alsof iemand met zoveel volgers ieder bericht zou lezen. Stel nu dat 1 promille van de mensen een reply stuurt, krijg je er toch 500 binnen. Als ik per dag 500 e-mails krijg, ga ik ze echt niet allemaal lezen, maar Stephen wel.

Tot mijn stomme verbazing kreeg ik een reactie terug dat ‘Jeeves wel lang geleden was’ en hij eindigde met ‘cheerio and tada’.

Vooral dat laatste is mooi hè!

Ik ben echt betwittered………

Tags van Technorati: Stephen Fry,Twitter,Wodehouse,Monty Python,Blackadder

The battle of Malplaquet was the bloodiest encounter in the 18th century, and was the climax of the campaign of 1709 during the war of the Spanish Succession.

Hopes for peace were high at the start of the year, after the successful campaign by the Allied forces, led by the Duke of Malborough and Prince Eugene in 1708. France was close to breaking point.

Peace negotiations were established, but the Allies demanded too much in requiring Louis XIV to remove his grandson from the throne of Spain (the initial cause of the war), in favour of the Holy Roman Emperor, Charles VI.

The French would not comply with this demand, ensuring that the war would be fought to a bitter conclusion, much to Marlborough and the Allies regret.

Louis XIV appointed Marshal Villars to lead the battered French Army and defend the borders of France. He quickly improved them in terms of morale and matériel.

The campaign of 1709 opened with a flanking move to the east, and the besiegement of Tournai.

Eventually Tournai fell to the allies.

This led the way clear for the Allies to continue their eastwards flanking move, hoping to bypass the defensive lines built by the French. In early Septemeber, the Allies moved on Mons. Villars recognised a battle was close at hand. He received a letter from Louis XIV:-

‘should Mons follow on the same fate of Tournai, our case is undone; you are by every means in your power to relieve the garrison; the cost is not to be considered, the salvation of France is at stake.’

Marshal Boufflers joined the French army, ‘with his cuirass and weapons’, to serve under Marshal Villars.

On the eve of the battle, the Allies stood their force in two bodies on the plain of Mons before the woods, hoping to tempt Marshal Villars and his army through the Aulnois gap onto the plain of Mons beyond. Instead Villars moved his army into the Aulnois gap and began constructing redans in the woods on each flank, which were considered by the conventions of the day to secure them. In the gap itself further redans were built, creating a strong defensive position.

Villars and Boufflers had some 80,000 men and 80 cannon.

Marlborough and Eugene had some 110,000 men and 120 cannon, and thus had an overall advantage of ~4:3 in men.

The Allied plan of attack for September 11th followed the basic pattern of the battle of Blenheim.

The Greeks believed in “Ethos Anthropos Daimon”; a man’s character is his fate. The brilliant victories by the Duke of Marlborough at the Battles of Blenheim and Ramilles had used central attacks. Villars would make his centre as defensible as possible with redans, stretching into the woods either side of the Aulnois gap, and let Marlborough’s men bleed to death in the expected assaults.

The French counterplan relied heavily on the assumption that the wooded flanks were secure from Allied incursions, as normally assumed during this period. However, fog lifted slowly from the battlefield on the morning of September 11th, allowing the Allies to deploy large number of troop in the wood of Taisnières unnoticed.

For the main attack on the French left wing, three lines of troops were used; about 80 battalions of Imperialists in all, under Prince Eugene.

For the secondary attack on the French right wing, two lines of troops were used; about 30 battalions of Dutch, under the Prince of Orange.

For the final central attack, only one line of troops were used; about 19 battalions of mostly British, together with the major part of the artillery and the cavalry reserve of about 200 squadrons of cavalry (some 30,000 horsemen) under the Duke of Marlborough.

The Imperialist and Prussian troops began their assault on the wood of Taisnières, but were stopped by unexpectedly fierce resistance from the French infantry.

The account of La Colonie, the Bavarian army ‘Old Campaigner’ describes the advance of the Prussians under fire towards the wood of Taisnières.

“As soon as this dense column appeared in the avenue, fourteen guns were promptly brought up in front of our brigade almost in line with the regiment of Garde Franchise. The fire of this battery was terrific, and hardly a shot missed its mark. I could not help noticing the officer in command, who although he seemed elderly was nevertheless so active that in giving his orders there was no cessation of action anywhere, the cannon shot continued to pour forth without a break, plunged into the enemy’s infantry and carried off whole ranks at a time, but a gap was no sooner created than it was immediately filled again, and they even continued their advance upon us without giving us any idea of the actual point determined on for their attack. At last the column, leaving the great battery on its left, changed its direction a quarter right and threw itself precipitately into the wood on our left, making an assault upon that portion which had been breached.”

The day was turning bloody indeed, and it was clear that the French would fight to hold every position.

The Prince of Orange led 30 Dutch battalions in an assault of the French redans before the wood of Lanières.

Again, the French mounted a stiff resistance, firing at close range, and opening up enfilading grapeshot fire with cannon, concealed in low ground. Terrible casualties were inflicted. The Dutch reached the line of redans, only to be met with further musketry from the French infantry, forcing the Dutch to retire in good order.

Both assaults on the prepared positions had failed. The Allies regrouped and tried again.

The Prince of Orange led the survivors in a new assault on the French. The Dutch troops followed, with the officers falling alongside their men, including Generals Spaar & Week.

Once again, French enfilading grapeshot and musketry did their terrible work, before the Dutch reached the redans, only to be thrown back by a spirited counterattack. The Dutch retired in disorder, and might have been chased from the field but for cavalry assistance.

Schulenburg led the survivors of the Imperialist first attack to a new assault of the French in the wood of Taisnières, this time breaking through the north face.

Lottum’s Prussians fared little better in their second assault, being brought to a halt, ‘torn and exhausted’. An English brigade under Argyll went in support of this assault.

Inside the wood of Taisnières, over seven thousand men were killed and wounded. The Allied infantry pursued the remaining four or five thousand French survivors. Little quarter was given on either side.

‘They hewed in pieces all they found before them, … even the dead when their fury found no more living to devour.’

By 10:30 Marlborough was aware that the first Dutch assault failed and rode over to see the troops, when he was intercepted by Goslinga, the Dutch deputy in the field.

Goslinga told the tale of the double repulse and together both men, joined by Prince Eugene, rode over to see the Prince of Orange ready to lead his shattered remnants in a third assault; this the Duke forbade.

‘Our left was the Dutch troops only, who beheaved themselves extremely well, but could not force the enemy retrenchment, so that their effort has suffered more than any other nation’
Marlborough, after the battle.

By 11:30, Villars sensed his left flank was slowly crumbling under the weight of numbers of troops employed by the Allies.

He did the only thing possible by withdrawing troops from his centre, exactly as Marlborough had intended, taking the Irish, French and Bavarians from the redans and sending them into the Wood of Taisnières as reinforcements.

‘By the time the Irish Brigade had got well into the wood it was considered to be hardly sufficient as a reinforcement by itself, and an order came for us to follow it, although there was no one else left to fill our place which would be left open to the enemy. They would not fail to seize it, as they could then attack the Maison du Roi with a great chance of success by simply lining the outside of our entrenchments, a manoeuvre quite possible for them to carry out. When the first order was brought to the brigade-major, who reported it to me, I refused to obey it, and pointed out the absolute necessity that existed for our maintaining the position we were holding ; but a lieutenant-general then arrived on the scene, and ordered us a second time to march off, so sharply that all our remonstrances were useless. We abandoned our post and marched into the wood to join in the fusilade with the others.’ Jean de la Colonie

Despite his defensive traps, Villars was being forced by relentless pressure to comply with Marlborough and Eugene’s plan.

Command in the front line on the battlefield in the age of muskets meant taking your chances in combat, along with everyone else. Prince Eugene was wounded, but not seriously.

Men from one nation fought on each side during this battle. Two Swiss (Bernese) regiments had a bayonet fight, one in the French and one in the Dutch service respectively. In the wood of Taisnières, the Royal Irish met and fought the French Royal Irish Regiment, the ‘Wild Geese’. This account survives, and illustrates the tactical advance used by the British and Dutch infantry in platoon firing, rather than firing by ranks, as used by the French.

‘…When the army advanced to attack the enemy, we also advanced into that part of the wood, which was in our front. We continued marching slowly on, til we came to an open in the wood. It was a small plain, on the opposite side of which we perceived a battalion of the enemy drawn up, a skirt of the wood being in the rear of them. Upon this Colonel Keane, who was then head of the Regiment, having drawn us up, and formed our platoons, advanced gently towards them, with the six platoons of out first firing made ready. When we had advanced within a hundred paces of them, they gave us the fire of one of their ranks; whereupon we halted, and returned them the fire of our six platoons at once; and immediately made ready the six platoons of our second fire, and advanced upon them again. They then gave us the fire of another rank, and we returned them a second fire, which made them shrink; however, they gave us the fire of a third rank after a scattering manner, and then retired into the wood in great disorder: on the which we send our third fire after them, and saw them no more. We advanced cautiously up to the ground which they had quitted, and found several of them killed and wounded; among them Lieutenant O’Sullivan, who told us the battalion we had engaged was the Royal Regiment of Ireland. Here, therefore, there was a fair trial of skill between the two Royal Regiments of Ireland, one in the British, the other in the French service; for we met upon equal terms, and there was none else to interpose. We had but four men killed and six wounded: and found near forty of them on the spot killed and wounded.’ Captain Parker

By midday, the French had been driven from the wood of Taisnières, and began reorganising between the villages of La Folie and Chaussée du Bois for a counterattack.

General Schulenburg prompted Marlborough to notice the empty French centre and to occupy it.

The path to victory for the Allies lay open if they could seize their opportunity quickly.

The Allied centre advanced to attack the empty French centre.

‘It was the most deliberate, solemn, and well-ordered battle I ever saw – a noble and fine disposition, and as nobly executed. Every man was at his post; and I never saw troops engage with more cheerfulness, boldness and resolution. In all the soldiers faces appeared a brisk and lively gaiety which presaged victory. The Lord of Hosts went forth at our head as Captain of our host, and the army followed with a daring cheerful boldness, for we never doubted but we would beat them. Providence ordered it so, that our regiment was no farther engaged than by being cannonaded, which was, indeed, the most severe that ever our regiment suffered, and by which we had considerable loss. But the soldiers endured it without shrinking, very patiently, and with great courage. For my own part I was nobly and richly supplied, as I have always been on these occasions, with liberal supplies of grace and strength, as the exigencies of the day called for. I never has a more pleasant day in my life. I was kept in perfect peace; my mind stayed, trusting in God.’ Major Blackadder

The Dutch squadrons of Auvergne passed through the gaps in the redans, followed by the British cavalry under General Wood, and the rest of the Prussian, Hannoverian and Imperialist cavalry, some 30,000 horsemen in total, to begin the biggest cavalry battle in the eighteenth century.

Exchange of fire was a trial of endurance and nerve, and well as chance, as Corporal Bishop’s account makes clear.

‘They returned our volley with great success. I may say it, for my right and left hand men were shot dead, and in falling had almost thrown me down, for I could scare prevent my falling among the dead men. Then I said to the second rank: ‘Come my boys, make good the front.’ With that they drew up. Then I said: ‘Never fear, we shall have better luck the next throw.’ But I just saved my word, for my right hand man was shot through the head, and the man that followed me was shot through the groin, and I escaped all, though nothing but the Providence of God could protect me. Then our rear man was called up to be a front; but he poor man was struck with a panic, fearing that he should share the same fate as the others did. He endeavoured to half cover himself behind me, but I put out my hand behind me and pulled him up, and told him, that I could no ways screen him, for he was sensible a man behind him was shot. By strong persuasion I prevailed upon him, so that he was not in the least bit daunted, but stood it out as bold as a lion. We received a great many volleys after that, and one time I remember it wounded my Captain and took my left hand man, and almost swept off those on my right, so that it left the man that was intimidated, and myself alone. Then I said, ‘Come Partner, there is nothing like having good courage.’ So we filled up our ranks in a regular form and when we had so done, we fired upon them briskly and with great success.’

Even great commanders succumb to the whims of Fortuna Belli, and Villars fell wounded at this critical juncture.

Overall command of the French army transferred to Marshal Boufflers. His ‘cuirass and weapons’ were needed, after all.

On the left flank, the French gained a notable success, scattering Allied cavalry in the act of deployment.

The cavalry battle in the centre ebbed to and fro, as the Allies tried to establish a bridgehead.

The Allies were driven back against the redans, only for the French to be dispersed by British infantry fire.

Boufflers led six charges to countain the Allied advance, led by Marlborough and Eugene in person, but were slowly pressed back by weight of numbers. The French retired onto the plain behind the redans, where the cavalry struggle continued.

Meanwhile, the Dutch eventually forced the French from their prepared positions on their right flank.

The battle now ended. The French now left the field in good order, both wings retiring, covered by the cavalry in the centre. The Allies were too exhausted to pursue.

By the terms of 18thC warfare, the Allies had won the battle, since they possessed the field, but had lost considerably more men in combat. In this sense, the battle was a technical victory for the Allies, rather than the earlier crushing defeats that Marlborough inflicted on the French.

Reflections on the aftermath of the battle make sombre reading…

‘The day was very bloody, and disputed for more than six hours with more obstinacy and uncertainty of result than I know how to describe. The Princes and generals who saw yesterday the left of the battlefield were horror-struck to see our men stretched before the entrenchment and within it in their ranks as they had fought.’

van Goslinga

‘In many places they lye as thick as you ever saw a flock of sheep, and where our cousin Tuillibardine was, it was prodigious. I think I never saw the like.’

‘He only wonders how anyone comes off where bullets fly so thick… None alive ever saw such a battle, God give us a good peace… I hope to God it may be the last battle I may see.’

Orkney

‘I am so tired that I have but strength enough to tell you that we have had this day a very bloody battle, the first part of the day we beat their foot, and afterwards their horse. God Almighty be praised, it is now in our powers to have what peace we please, and I may be pretty well assured of never being in another battle.’

Marlborough to Sarah, his Wife, Personal letter on the night of the battle.

‘It is melancholy to see so many brave men killed, with whom I have lived these last eight years, when we thought ourselves sure of a peace.’

Marlborough to Godolphin, October 3rd 1709

Despite his crippling wound Marshal Villars recovered, and wrote to Louis XIV, describing the pyrrhic victory he believed the Allies had won.

For certain, he had prevented an invasion of France in 1709, and kept her hopes alive for better terms in any future peace treaty.

Widespread shock at the level of casualties from the battle was felt across European society.

‘Ye joy here doe not appear proportional to the success; for ye cries of widows, orphans and tender virgins, deprived of their husbands, fathers and Gallants prevail so much amongst this phlegmatic nation that I believe the beaten French will carry off disgrace with better countenance than ye Dutch triumphant express their Glory; but to say the truth the Dutch troops suffered extremely… Walpole, the Hague, 17th September 1709

Malplaquet was the last major battle that the Duke of Malborough fought during the war of the Spanish Succession, although he continued in the field for another two years, gaining further victories and territory from the French.

The battlefield is commemorated today by monuments, both in France

and on the column of victory at Blenheim Palace, England.

The battle also lives on in France in a folk song, Malbrough s’en va-t-en guerre. This suggests that The Duke of Marlborough died during the day’s action, and the news is eventually passed to his wife, Sarah Churchill, Mistress of the Robes to Queen Anne. It became popular in France as a children’s song, and still survives, a faint echo of that bloody day in 1709.

The full slide pack is available as a pdf file here. (7 Mb file!).

In versions of iTunes prior to 9, videos that are compatible with a device have been displayed with black text, incompatible with grey. In iTunes 9, I was looking at the TV settings for the iPhone and noticed that all of my TV shows appeared in black. I’ve ripped all my DVDs as 768 x 576 (4:3) or 1024 x 576 anamorphic (16:9), 2500Kbps H.264, 160Kbps AAC. Up to this point, I was never able to sync a file greater than iPod resolution.

To my delight and surprise, these PAL-derived monsters synced across and played. Here’s one from Arrested Development, ripped from a Region 4 PAL DVD:

iPhone Settings Panel, Showing Compatible TV Show

This is the only 720 HD TV show I have, Dollhouse. It’s a rip from a TV broadcast. The iPhone wouldn’t accept it:

iPhone Settings Panel, Showing Incompatible HD TV Show

Next I tested an iPod Classic, the true standard. Despite the apparent compatibility (black text), it wouldn’t sync anything above iPod standard:

iPod Settings Panel, Showing Incompatible TV Show

What does it mean? It means less work when preparing DVD content. I can now rip one version of movies, TV shows and music videos, as long as I sync to an iPhone (and presumably, an iPod Touch). This is a pretty major step forward. Perhaps next year we’ll be able to sync 720 HD.

Do Revista TV Séries, Ipsis litteris.

Elenco de Blackadder

A imprensa britânica está divulgando a informação de que Richard Curtis, co-autor da cultuada série “BlackAdder”, irá escrever um episódio da nova temporada de “Doctor Who”. Mas não é só isso, rumores surgiram levantando a hipótese do famoso doutor encontrar Blackadder em pessoa.
Segundo Richard Curtis, o episódio que irá escrever gira em torno de um monstro que será desafiado por uma famosa personagem histórica. Até aí nada de novo, já que muitos episódios de “Doctor Who” trazem esta abordagem. Mas rumores, que indicam fonte interna, acreditam que esta figura histórica seja Sir Edmund Blackadder.

Richard Curtis

Algo difícil de ser verdade, mas fica aqui uma sugestão para quem não conhece a série. Se você é fã do humor inglês como eu, assista à “BlackAdder”, um dos melhores trabalhos do ator e roteirista Rowan Atkinson em fase pré-”Mr. Bean”. Infelizmente no Brasil, ele ficou famoso com seu personagem mais fraco. Mr. Bean não fala e seu humor é físico, o que faz com que facilite sua penetração em países de língua não inglesa. Blackadder é cínico, ácido, carrega o típico humor inglês e explora os trocadilhos de seu idioma. A série, que é uma comédia, chegou ao Brasil nos anos 90 pelo Eurochannel e nunca mais foi reprisada, uma vergonha! Mas quem tiver a oportunidade de assistir, não deixe passar a chance de conhecer o “víbora”.

A série foi produzida por quatro temporadas. Cada temporada era situada em uma época diferente da história da Inglaterra, iniciando pela Idade Média e terminando na 1ª Guerra Mundial. Blackadder é o personagem central que aparece em cada fase como descendente do primeiro, mas sempre interpretado por Rowan. Nas duas últimas temporadas Hugh Laurie, de “House”, faz parte do elenco fixo.

Atualização: A participação de Richard Curtis foi confirmada pela BBC, mas nada foi dito sobre o roteiro no qual ele irá trabalhar.

- What’s this smell?

- I’m roasting a swede.

- There’s a swedish person in our oven?

- No, it’s a sort of a turnip.

- Why are you baking it?

- I’m going to make soup with it.

- Turnip soup? Isn’t that what the Russians fed the prisoners in Siberia?

I was a bit surprised the beneficiary of my food experiments didn’t go for the Baldrick-themed quip rather than for the facile soviet humor. If I remember Solzhenitsyn correctly, the best the prisoners in the gulags could aspire to – gastronomically speaking – was to find a bit of potato or fish bones in the hot thin skilly.

I got the message. Turnips (and swedes) are boring vegetables. So boring they don’t even get a single mention in “One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich”, unlike carrots or nettles. A bit sweeter and less consistent than potatoes and that’s all there is to them. However, I tend to disagree. The best soup (purée, I should say) I have ever had was a creamy white concoction of turnip and garlic served with simple toasted bread. Therefore, I will not give up on the rutabaga varieties even if I have to imbrue them with spicy broths.

The Ingredients

1 large Swede

2 Carrots

2 Celery Stalks

1 Garlic (peeled and crushed)

Salt, Pepper, Olive Oil, Thyme

To serve: A dollop of crème fraîche, Bits of smoked salmon

Preparation Time

Around 45 minutes- 1 hour. I don’t use vegetable broth so I’d rather have the vegetables cook for longer.

I find that like every other soup, it tastes much better the next day or at least something like around 4 hours later.

Preparation

Peel and cut the swede into cubes and line them on a tray. Drizzle olive oil over them and season with a bit of salt and pepper. Meanwhile, throw in a pot of water the carrots, celery, garlic and a couple of spoons of olive oil. Let it boil for 30 minutes, at the end of which time, you’ll take out the swede from the oven and add it to the pot. Add a spoonful of thyme leaves and let it boil 10 minutes or more. When it cools down, blend it all. Add salt. Serve with crème fraîche and smoked salmon.

The Cost

Soup for 6 for 4 pounds if you are going to use the crème fraîche and the rest of the smoked salmon for something else. A quiche springs to mind.

Fun Fact to make this thing more Highbrow than it is

There is a Brothers Grimm fable about a giant turnip that happens to grow in the lands of a poor soldier who turned to agriculture. His brother was rich. This fact seems only to serve as a some kind of benchmark since he has nothing to do with the story at all except when the poor soldier presents his giant turnip to the king who gives him money and lands so that he’ll be richer than his brother. The moral of the story escapes me. Something about sibling rivalry and he who has the biggest turnip wins. I’ll grant that, although the giant turnip was pure luck, it would never had grown if he didn’t start sowing the land in the first place. He also knew how to choose an audience which would gullibly be impressed by vegetable giantism.

Food and Book Pairing

Pick up “Blackadder: The Whole Damn Dynasty” and read out loud the episode “Beer” to your fellow commensals. It’s in this episode that they find the erotically shaped turnip and that Baldrick reveals the secret recipe for “Turnip Surprise” – “the surprise is: there’s nothing in it except the turnip”.

Broadcast

First we had Blackadder – complete with Top Hat – doing his stuff to camera on – COAST – and declaring that Berwick on Tweed was still at war with Russia.

And then on – on – into some rain forest or other for more excitement and ploughing round in the undergrowth.

In my view – One can have too much nature in one night!

By the way is there any connection between the discovery of a new species of Giant Rat and you doing a runner from your loyal listener??

Odd title, isn’t it?

I picked up on an interview on Radio 4 this morning about purple protractors.

Firstly, I couldn’t really believe that BBC Radio 4  (you can hear the news item hereRadio 4), that bastion of all that is good in broadcasting had lowered itself to discuss protractors, and purple ones at that!

It seems that this is the latest fad – I won’t raise it to any level by calling it a trend, or even trendy – but apparently this is really important. Ranking behind the most up to date trainers, the best and latest branded schoolbag (backpack or whatever they call it nowadays) . Oh, and by the way did you know that girls take handbags to school?

I know I am an old dinosaur and no doubt very shortly to become extinct, but am I really living in Britain in 2009? Maybe I time shifted to Oz or Wibble (that’s a Blackadder IV reference for those aficionados amongst you), or maybe its just getting crazy out there.

In my day a transparent protractor was what we had – you could see through to measure exactly the angle on the paper.

Anyway, for those of you who would like one,

Here is a purple protractor!

The schools are partly to blame by not enforcing a straightforward uniform policy(so-called because then everyone looks the same, and there is less likely to be bullying over “trainers”) and if they really must, produce simple unfashionable maths kits to use. After all school is about learning not about being a fashionista (my word, I think), and although every child should be treated as an individual and his or her individual needs catered for in terms of their learning and development ( I agree that is a good ethos), that doesn’t mean they can behave like a celebrity or for that matter dress like them.

Focus on learning: schools are seats of learning not  fashion shows.

JohnF

* paranoia: a thought process characterized by excessive anxiety or fear, often to the point of irrationality and delusion. Wikipedia

* curmudgeon n. a miser or an ill-tempered (and frequently old) person full of stubborn ideas or opinions. Wikipedia

Dr. Greg House a role played by an actor, called Hugh Laurie. He also fooled around in Blackadder.

A paranoid is someone who knows a little of what’s going on. William S. Burroughs

I am a kind of paranoiac in reverse. I suspect people of plotting to make me happy.  J. D. Salinger

If the national mental illness of the United States is megalomania, that of Canada is paranoid schizophrenia. Margaret Atwood

Terry’s right: I better start reading some more non-fiction and put Innis away for a while.

‘Twas a rainy Thursday eve when the bang and bong of the distant Bodhran called to the wandering dregs – the waifs and the fair. Wizards, trolls and other hep cats (notwithstanding louds in suits to whom it was a novelty not to be getting hepped up on WKD, Lynx and titty bars) gather to sample liquids whose names are occasionally as distasteful as their flavours.

Editor’s note: herewith follows recorded tasting notes from an estimable expedition of the staff of The Romantic Hen to the Great British Beer Festival, Earl’s Court, Thursday 6th August, 2009.

1. Meare Cider
C: “Very dry. Like wine.”
S: “A bit like wee. But nice.”

2. Minchew Cider
S: “Like being kicked in the crotch by a sawdust monster.”
C: “Hicksville.”

3. Blackadder
S: “Elderberry soap.”
C: “The smoke of a peat bog cottager’s fire.”

4. Grizzly Beer
C: “Like a tangy autumn field – lovely.”
S: “A fiery strawberry. With an afterkick of coal that might on reflection be from the Blackadder (above).”

5. Cowslip Wine
S: “Grassy undertones, unnatural sweetness crushes the palate.”
C: “Glassy overtones, ersatz saccharinity grinds the stomach.”

Judge #1

6. Mead
C: “Figureskating to baroque music upon a lake of frozen honey. On FIRE.”
S: “Honeydew drops on a plateau of peaches.”

7. Mary’s Ruby Mild
S: “Pollenated Asperger’s poppy shaft.”
C: “It’ll put hairs on your hairs.”

8. Cornish Blonde Wheat Beer
S: “Gerard Depardieu milking a wheat cow on a Pyrénéesean sunset.”
C: “Wheaty.”

Judge #2

9. Lion’s Roar
S: “The glistening of a barley field on a virginal October morn.”
C: “Simon’s a gaylord.”

10. Tanglefoot
C: “Like somebody caramelised Jon Snow.”
S: “A sealion hunting badgers in a barley orgy.”

11. Shuttleworth Snap
S: “A crepuscular clasp of dandelions.”
C: “Blonde.”

12, isn’t it? Great Northern
C: “Tastes like mahogany false teeth.”
S: “A wreck of seals splashing out a sand dune in the Orkneys.”
Amanda: “Mega kicking! Football.”
S: “Use your imagination, use your imagination, yeah.”

Honourary judge Amanda

Addendum: found following day, 1 x couple’s membership pack for CAMRA, including Good Beer Guide 2009. Damned real ale wizards. Especially John at the membership stand whose birthday was March the 3rd and liked Catherine’s earrings, and his friend who filled the form out for Simon because he couldn’t read his credit card numbers. See you next year.

Tasting notes, Great Northern

It incensed me to hear this week, of the banning of 3 British soldiers from a bar in Maidenhead because they were ‘inappropriately’ dressed in their uniform, having come straight from a comrade’s funeral. The bar manager’s pitiful spineless excuse was that he had to “protect the interests of my customers”. A 5 year old could have come up with a more convincing argument than that. But what was most horrifying about the incident, was that this was considered a socio-politically “sound” response in today’s Britain. What, pray, might these interests be? Alarm at seeing a British army uniform in the flesh? Having survived two World Wars not more than a century ago, we, the steadfast remnant of a true British people, are sick and tired of hearing about anti-patriotism being the way things are done these days. By jove, it wasn’t but 30-odd years ago that we were sat around the television watching Allo’ Allo’, Dad’s Army, It Ain’t Half Hot Mum and even more recently, 16th on the list of 100 Great British Comedies, Blackadder. We celebrated our nations’ efforts at war with thoroughly acceptable British pomp and mirth. This was a multi-cultural Britain which purposed popular comedy and sit-com as politically incorrect as possible and quite rightly walked off with awards for it too.

However you do realise, of course, that it requires stepping out of this blind hypnosis, out of years of the media brainwashing the British people, in order to fully defend the right in this scenario. This cock-and-bull soundbyte “Somebody Else’s War” has no compatibility whatsoever with the indignation towards the dishonour of our troops on home turf. I don’t know if it’s the effects of centralised healthcare (Oh, Lord help us!!) or the ‘reliability’ of our Inland Revenue that have stopped us thinking for ourselves altogether, but you’ll have to excuse me for a moment….WAKE UP BRITAIN! We’ve always had an army! They’ve always had a job to do! The press have been dishonouring substantial news for many a decade now, so it’s no small wonder the British public have had no idea that the last 50 years of peacetime……were being earned.

The bottom line is this. It isn’t somebody else’s war. You may think this foolish but I solidly believe that the reason we’ve even had the liberty of having any government able to spend their time running up illegal expenses on taxpayer money, is because we’ve had too much peace, if such a thing is possible. We’ve never had to go through 1939 again. We’ve never had to watch our home destroyed by shelling, day and night. We’ve never had to sit in Anderson Shelters all over again. The House of Lords, the ruling party have sat around playing Punch and Judy for the last decade…….because at the same tim, outside the country, our young’uns were–voluntarily–fighting off our enemies the whole time. The bankers, the hedge fund managers,  the benefit cheats, the white collar fraudsters, the gang members on the street, the social deviants and misfits, the criminals on parole, they’ve all been allowed their day in the sun…..because the British Army, Navy, the RAF and the TA, have been putting their lives on the line every single day, year in, year out, keeping our enemies and invaders at bay. The servicemen and women of Britain are awarded and honoured for their work by the Head of State, the authorities and we might just catch a 10 second mention in the news bulletin or a little square in the bottom corner of page 2 of our papers, next to the weather forecast. Which most of us skim over to get to the rest of the ‘news’. But when it comes to the average Joe thanking a soldier on the Tube one morning, for being braver than he to serve, oh no, the offence comes right up. “Who, me? It’s got nothing to do with me!” Yes, you! It’s got everything to do with you, me, him, her and everyone else standing on the 8.15am train to Liverpool Street. Someone paid the price for you to pick up your morning latte and scroll through your Blackberry on the way to work to read notes for the morning meeting, without hearing an air raid siren and dodging bombs falling. The fact is that Britain has had enemies for the last 1558 years since the Romans came face to face with the English. London has been the scene of battle and bloodshed it’s entire history, someone has always been fighting over it. No, this has got nothing to do with America “making” us some enemies out there, we’ve always had enemies and we’ve always had to fight them.

Only last week The Metro interviewed a Lt. Cp who was asked, what the British public could be doing to help them. “Just show your support. You’ve no idea how much it means to know that British men and women appreciate what we’re doing.”

These lads were just popping in for a pint. This IS our war and it is high time we shook the hand of the humble British servant who’s out there on enemy frontlines because we didn’t want to do it. And for those Britons who think this is a call to take up what some of you refer to as “sickening-American-Support-Our-Troops-gung-ho”, honour the British history-makers of the crest on your purple passport: with staunch British pride, originate, don’t imitate. We are the only nation who don’t know how to make the connection between our peacetime and what our troops are doing. Let our enemies never say of Britain what the character Edmund Blackadder famously said to Lord Percy, “The eyes are open, the mouth moves, but Mr Brain has long since departed, hasn’t he, Percy?”