In Memorium

My dear friends, let us gather round and spare a few minutes of silent recollection in memory of all those songs that are only half-remembered by the listening public. Top of this list comes a most famous song by The Rembrandts, that goes by the name of ‘Friends’. Another one is ‘God save the Queen’, by…er…. mmm. And also, no-one remembers the second stanza of Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer either.

I came across a most wonderful Swedish saying:- Battre lite skit i hornet an ett rent helvete.

Watching Adam-Hart Davis at work again today on the UK TV History channel. This was the episode about Greek inventions again. I find it absolutely amazing what some people came up with, not having the unfortunate luck of being born in a modern, done-it-all-before society. I was mighty impressed by Archimedes, who not only is regarded as the greatest mathematician of all time before Newton came along, but also seems to have been a rather impressive and original performer in the bedroom sweepstakes, for which he has a special style named after him; namely the Archimedes Screw.
Thousand apologies, but I just couldn’t resist that one J

But I was disturbed watching ‘Life and Death in Rome’, and not because of any graphic descriptions, for I well know that man does amazing (not necessarily a flattering adjective) things under duress. Here historians were quite blithely speaking on camera about how modern-day America was similar to the Romans in respect to the way they dealt with rogue states. Although I suspect the difference between the geographical expansion of the Romans and the economic/ideological expansion of America might be less than we’d imagine. I generally agree with the pragmatic view of the inevitability of war that most historians seem to share, and also know that although there are no winners in war (War doesn’t decide who’s right, but who’s left), it will happen anyway. I guess the hope of learning from past mistakes is too much to ask for.

To move on to happier pastures, here’s what makes drummers a special group of people. Just like any other group of people.
“It became a strange sort of obsession. You carried your sticks everywhere and at mealtimes you’d do it with knives and forks, rattling out marches on the refectory tables.”
“I got in such a state about it that I would feel sick at the sight of a drum kit”

Apart from music, another primeval, or perhaps Pavlovian, response comes from the sound of a throaty engine. And if the engine is cradled in the bosom of a two-wheeled bad mother of a bike, then forgive me for abandoning a dying kitten in the middle of a busy highway that I may get a better look at it.

Oh, and I watched the end of this year’s rallying again, in Perth. I had noticed how the commentators were commentating upon the high incidence of kangaroo mishaps, and how this might be due to the television helicopters scaring the marsupials on to the rally tracks. Seeing it the second time round, I knew exactly what to look for, and the first to hit a bounding kangaroo actually had a perfect shot from the on-board camera of its tail sticking up whilst dragged along at approx 80 kph for 500 metres or so. I’m a petrolhead who believes in cycling as a mode of transport, so how do we amalgamate the two ideas?

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  1. I would love to respond with some intellectual comment but as I’m not entirely sure of most of what you’re talking about, I’ll just quietly agree. 🙂

  2. No, the americans don’t drink enough red wine. But they are sexual deviants so i guess that evens it out.



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