Archive for April, 2013

Train at the High Street level crossing in Lincoln pulling in to Central Station

Sunday, April 28th, 2013

Train at the High Street level crossing in Lincoln pulling in to Central Station. One day they will build a tunnel and we will no longer see the level crossing in action. When that day comes the passing of the level crossing, if I can put it like that, will not be lamented. The barriers seem to be down more than they are up which causes congestion, both automotive and pedestrian.

The train is an East Midlands Trains operated service, comprises of two coaches and is typical of the type that runs as a commuter service between Lincolnshire and Nottinghamshire.

A simple chink in the curtain of the life of Lincoln in 2013.

Lincoln A2Z P2 Riseholme Park

Sunday, April 28th, 2013

P2 is an interesting plot to cover. I was going to write about the fact that the Lincoln RFC junior rugby section trained there before the end of the cricket season made more of the Lindum ground available.

However in checking to see whether the rugby pitches were actually in P2 I came across far more interesting things to talk about.

First of all the A2Z map suggests that the park ends at Riseholme Lane. A look at Google maps in satellite view shows a long avenue of trees that cross the lane and beyond into territory not marked as Riseholme Park.

Clearly there was a time, when the park was laid out, when the grounds were more extensive than today. A quick Google reveals the following:

Riseholme Hall was built in the middle of the 18th century by the Chaplin family. Formal tree planting and the lake were already in place by 1779, but by the early-19th century the south park had become more informal. In 1840 the estate was sold to the Ecclesiastical Commissioners, to become the Palace for the Bishop of Lincoln. The hall and park were re-modelled and a new church was built.

The Bishopric (I assume there was more than one Bish in the time) was clearly still a powerful entity in Victorian times for the Bish to have such a large pad. Worra life.

The estate was sold in 1887. It was later bought by the County Council in 1945. In 1949, the Lindsey Farm Institute was opened. 1

Today the park forms the site of the Agricultural College of the University of Lincoln as well as hosting an Inland Revenue Training Centre.

Balls are sometimes held at the Hall. I once went as a guest to someone’s school bash but I have to say it was a dull affair. To save costs the entertainment was a jazz band put together by some parents and they weren’t particularly good! A second school ball but for a different school redeemed the place and on the hot summer’s evening we were able to enjoy the views of the park out across the lake.

That’s all for now. Tune in again for another Lincoln A2Z by Philosopherontap.

1 source

3rd Law Part 22 – do Buddhists get cold feet?

Sunday, April 28th, 2013

It’s funny how little things can upset you. On this occasion I don’t really mean “upset”. I was going to use the word disconcerting but that didn’t seem right either. The word I really want is somewhere in between disconcerting and upset but I can’t for the moment figure out what it is. If I remember it later I’ll try and slip it into the flow. What has disconcerted/upset me is the fact that I was looking for something but it wasn’t where I thought it should be.

Apparently it was definitely there on Thursday though there is no confirmation of the same on the Friday but no one is owning up to having moved it or to its current whereabouts. This situation is part of the family of situations that includes when you walk into a room to get something and by the time you get to the room you have forgotten what it is you were after. You have to retrace your steps and start again in the hope that you remember the original objective.

I’m sure there must be other situations in that family but for the moment I can’t think of one. Perhaps that’s one too but possibly not.

So for the moment I am without that which I sought but could not find. Hmm. Ah well. Okay. Those last three sentences are holding sentences whilst I think of what to write next.  It isn’t often that situation occurs. Not nearly as often as me walking into a room and not remembering why, which has been happening all too often for most of my adult life, as far as I can remember.

Conditions aren’t turning out to be great for writing. My memory is on the blink and also my hands are cold. Come on sun, get ye out. Notice the occasional lapse into 17th century speak. Could also be attributed to other centuries of course but I have chosen the 17th as the most likely in my case. Maybe I am really a Buddhist and this current version of me is a reincarnation of an earlier 17th century person. I wonder who I was?  The fact that I said “ye” doesn’t provide much of a clue. May have to wait until the next reincarnation. It’s a possibility that at the point of death and before the next rebirth I get to see all my pasts. Of course it may not happen. Like I said I’ll have to wait and see.

Don’t worry about me though. It won’t dwell on my mind too much. You get on and worry about your own problems. Like whether you’ll be able to meet the mortgage payment next month or whether your wife (or husband) is having an affair! Sorry if that thought hadn’t occurred to you before. Have you checked their mobile text messages lately? Don’t do it. Better you never find out. Think of the kids.

Don’t know what took me down that line of reasoning. You just can’t tell with the 3rd Law. It just takes you places and you don’t know how you got there. It is amazing though how the 3rd Law helps you discover yourself. I didn’t know I was a Buddhist. I might have to look up one of those outfits they wear. At least the summer months are approaching. I hope they have winder outfits, especially for the feet. I imagine those sandals are freezing during the winter, especially in Nepal where there are a lot of them. They must have, surely!!!

If they don’t I would have to consider my position. Maybe they winter in the Caribbean mon. I could live with that. I’d put up with the hurricane season. After all the pirates of old did. They holed up in Inns and Taverns at docksides on different islands, especially Tortuga and Hispaniola, and spent the winter drinking and womanising and spending all their ill-gotten gains before having to set off out again in the spring for more. Avast there me hearties, aharr. I never said I was a particularly good Buddhist. That may well be because until a few moments ago I didn’t know I was a one. We all have to learn sometime. Or not.

We don’t need no education, as you know.  I went to see Roger Waters play “The Wall” last year. Very good it was. Really enjoyed it. Also saw The Rollign Stones (typo not actual spelling) who in all fairness were awesome though they didn’t have time to play “Satisfaction” because of a slight overrun and really strict music licensing hours at the O2. Never mind. We just about squeezed in to the last tube back to town. Don’t know what we would have done if we’d missed it. It was late on a Sunday night with thousands of people still milling around and no sign of a taxi.

Not a problem though because we didn’t miss it. Hey 🙂

The daffodils in the garden are a robust lot. It’s not nearly as warm today as it was yesterday but they don’t seem to complain. I’ve also noticed that the tulips are also out. It’s spring again though you wouldn’t know it from the temperature outside. I’ve had to put on a pair of socks! Won’t make a good Buddhist will I?

I’m pretty sure I’m not a Buddhist mind you though I did have a number two all over hair cut once. I used to use a home shaver and got my daughter Hannah to finish it off round the back. Unfortunately she didn’t hold the shaver properly and I ended up with a swath of number zero up the back of my neck. This was just before an important business meeting as well. I still have a photo of it somewhere. Hey. Such is life. Such is the fast moving close shave world in which we live.

No moss gathering here, no dwelling, cogitating unsurety. We live life for the moment and live it at a pace tempered only by my typing speed. Words per minute abound. Think that may be a new word, unsurety. I know what it means if you don’t. If you don’t know you’re not in my club, my gang, those like-minded people I hang with. My crowd.

Me an’ the gang like to do stuff together. I’m not talking drugs though. I come from a fairly tame well brought up background and never felt the need to do that kind of stuff. It’s one of the aspects of me as a writer that means I will never produce the hallucinatory genius output that makes people think “wow how did he come up with that”. The John Miltons and John Lennons of this world.

I assume there are some others not called John but those are the two that instantly sprung to mind. It’s a good solid name John and not one that would necessarily be associated with hallucination though I’m not sure why not. Neither would Eustace really and don’t ask me where I got Eustace from. Maybe someone put something in my tea, which went cold on me a little earlier so I didn’t drink it all. Good job perhaps. If I’d drunk the whole cup goodness knows what might have happened.

It would certainly have made me go to the toilet. That’s the thing about tea. Goes right through you. It’s a feature of the 3rd Law that has never adequately been documented. “The 3rd Law means you are likely to go to the toilet less often because you will be drinking less tea because it doesn’t really appeal when it has gone cold”. Could have probably described it more succinctly but I will leave that to the philosophers of the future who will probably hold week long conferences where the precise definition of the 3rd Law will be debated to the nth degree. Of course it won’t feel like a week. That’s what the 3rd Law does to you.

They will come back from the conference wearing the free conference t-shirt or hoodie with 3rdLaw Conference, Miami, 2020 on the back and a picture of a half empty cup of tea (or coffee – you choose) as the breast logo on the front.

Now I know what you are thinking. “How did he know it was going to be in Miami?”. I just fancy going to Miami. Never been. You didn’t think I’d let them have a 3rdLaw Conference without inviting me along did you? They would ask me where I thought would be best.

I could also chose Antigua or some other such luxury Caribbean destination. Never been there either. Other suggestions will taken on board but please don’t suggest anywhere I’ve already been except perhaps New Orleans (N’awlins) which was a great place for a conference and I once spent 8 days there a long time ago. I’m not going to supply a list of where I’ve already been. It would take too long.

Not that it would be boring. I’ve been to a lot of interesting places. A lot of good bars and gin joints around the world. Never to Casablanca though, talking of gin joints – one of the famous lines that Bogey comes out with when he sees her. You know the scene I mean. If not I’m not going to tell you. You’re not in my gang.

It’s one of my favourite movies, Casablanca. Another one is Mary Poppins. I like nice films with happy endings. That’s one of the things I liked about Harry Potter. You always knew that Harry would win in the end. There’s no way JK could have him killed off and Voldemort winning. She didn’t disappoint. Not everyone is a Potter fan mind you. Some prefer The Lord Of The Rings. I didn’t mind that movie but it wasn’t very believable unlike Harry Potter who is clearly a real life wizard. If you don’t agree you’re not in my gang.

I have to be careful here. At the rate I’m going on there will be nobody in my gang.  I will have excluded everyone on the grounds of what is going on in their minds which smacks of fascism, or communism or some similar but different regime. Totalitarian probably. I’m not like that really.

Also I’m not a loner. I want people to be in my gang, though I quite like standing at a bar on my own having a quiet pint, but not always.

3rd Law Part 21 here

3rd Law part 23 here

The perfect bacon sandwich

Sunday, April 28th, 2013

bacon sandwich – food of the gods

Food seems to be a theme of the moment. This time we are featuring the humble bacon sandwich.  I say humble but really the bacon sandwich is royalty in the culinary world on a par with the finest dishes served by the best chefs in their Michelin starred palaces.

There are many ways of serving the bacon sandwich. Individuals will have their own views as to the best way and who is to say they aren’t all right. This is a highly subjective matter.

In the analysis that follows the various variables for each aspect of the making of a bacon sandwich are discussed and my own preferred recipe is offered as a benchmark. Rank others in comparison, better or worse, as you see fit.

The bacon

The choice of bacon is of fundamental importance. In the first instance any bacon that comes in a package labelled BOGOF should be avoided at all cost. This will be cheap water filled rubbish. The slices will be so thin you will be able to see through them and when cooking  the bacon will emit a yukky white substance that apparently is part of the preservative injected into the meat during processing. The water will steam the bacon and you will find it very difficult to get the right “finish”.

Reality is it is difficult to find any bacon that doesn’t have the white stuff in it. Experimentation will allow you to identify the brand that suits you best.  Look for the words “dry cure” and “thick cut”. Your are most likely to find the best bacon at a real butchers and not in a supermarket. You have been warned.

There is a valid debate on whether to use back bacon or streaky. Streaky is undoubtedly more flavoursome due to its having more fat but back does tend to provide a meatier filling. The American habit of over-frying streaky is usually to be avoided and American bacon tends to be too salty.

The bread

The best bread to use for a bacon sandwich is undoubtedly crusty white unsliced. You can use pre-sliced crusty white but the uniformity of the slice doesn’t quite feel right. Self-slicing produces a variation in cut that suits the rustic nature of this sandwich and makes for a different culinary experience at each meal1.

The mass produced sliced white bread that comes with brand names advertised on television is not appropriate for a bacon sandwich unless you are a guest at someone’s house and your host is providing the breakfast. One assumes in this instance that a considerable amount of beer was downed the night before and you are pretty grateful for anything that staves off the after-effects of the evening.

Under no circumstances should brown bread be used and if rolls are the only option the posher they are the better.

The debate over toasting has raged long and hard. Toasting the bread for your bacon sandwich is perfectly acceptable though it is a shame to do this if the bread is really fresh. Toasting crusty white bread more than two days old is the preferred method for this age of bread.

The bread/toast should be buttered. Margarine doesn’t cut it. Some people are known to prefer no butter. Whilst this is acceptable it should be understood that a bacon sandwich made without butter is never going to reach perfection.

Grilling versus frying

This is a bit of a no brainer really. Frying always produces the best flavour in a bacon sandwich. Grilling shrinks the meat more. Lard is the best option for oil although it is recognised that the use of lard is controversial to the point of unacceptability in the modern health conscious society. Cooking oil is an acceptable alternative and need not be applied in large quantities. The fats from the meat will soon seep into the pan and provide the ideal base for frying. If cheapo bacon is being used then grilling will at least allow the water and white rubbish to drip off but you should take care to at least double the number of slices you were planning to use per person.

A minimum of two slices of bacon should normally be used but three or more are acceptable. Ideally the bacon once fried will have some crispy fat bits and some darker brown areas on the meat itself.

Unlike sausages which benefit from slow cooking, for best effect bacon should be cooked on a highish heat. We are looking for the right combination of softness and crispness and a slow cook will tend to err towards the soft side.


By seasoning I mean red sauce/brown sauce/no sauce. This is entirely a personal choice. The purist will almost certainly opt for “naked” but I am a brown sauce man. HP only. You can tell the difference. Tomato ketchup should be reserved for burgers and hot dogs.


It is perfectly respectable to experiment with different varieties to accompany the basic bacon filling. Mushrooms (fried) tomatoes (fried or uncooked – as you like) or even lettuce and tomato for the classic BLT are fine with added mayo. Bacon and lettuce without the tomato is a bit weird and should probably be avoided. Other filling combinations may be possible but are straying well away from the pure form. For example bacon and egg sandwiches should better be described as a “breakfast sandwich”.

Vegetarian bacon sandwiches


Other bacon sandwich stories

In my experience the bacon sandwich is the one meat dish that is likely to convert vegetarians back to being carnivores (or omnivores/woteva) and I often use this as an icebreaker with people I have never met before but who are introduced to me as vegetarians – maybe at dinner. I tried this recently with a woman and she totally blanked me saying that it was never a problem. Set the tone for the whole evening. I found out weeks later that she was Jewish! Ah well!!  A vegetarian friend told me that this conversation piece was as old as the hills and very boring. Ah well!!! Won’t stop me using it though…


So there you have it. The perfect bacon sandwich uses decent dry cured thick cut back bacon, probably sourced from a local butcher and fried. The bread needs to be fresh self sliced crusty white. The bread may be toasted if a couple of days old. The bread should be buttered and contain sensible amounts of HP sauce.

Serve with a fresh pot of tea and a glass of milk.

Bacon sandwich making displays are available to hire – perfect for that morning after situation. Please contact Philosopherontap for details.

1 I am careful to use the word meal here as opposed to breakfast. Whilst the bacon sandwich is classically served at breakfast there is no convention that suggests its eating at other mealtimes to be inappropriate.

Lincoln A2Z S12 sewage works

Saturday, April 27th, 2013

What is there to say about a sewage works? Not much. Horrible smelly places I imagine though I’m not speaking with any authority. Mine is merely a biased view built on ignorance and a willingness to make judgement without any real evidence.

I haven’t even been to this sewage works though I have driven past. It’s not the sort of place you stop at to take a closer look. A necessary evil and not something to dwell upon. Yuk.

After all we all know what sort of stuff gets processed at these places. I’m not going to elaborate. Your imagination is already running into overdrive though if I were you I’d move on mentally as I did in the car.

People must work at these places. Hey, a job’s a job. I wonder whether they leave the house in a suit in the morning, kissing their wives who hand them a briefcase containing their packed lunch. When they get to the office, the sewage treatment plant, they change into a boiler suit with helmet and rubber gloves. They don’t tell the wife. Probably say they work for the council or at a solicitors’. After all what girl would want to be at a coffee morning with her pals and chat about what hubby was going to be doing today when hubby was cleaning gooey blockages from the feeder pipes.

At night on the way home they do the same in reverse. Probably make up some story about someone at the office. “Old Reg he’s a real card you know”. Funny how they never have a Christmas do with wives invited at this solicitors. Every other solicitors’ does. What was the name of the firm again?

I once went on a sewer tour in London. Wouldn’t want to do it again. I was wearing double rubber protection all over. When climbing down the ladder to the sewer my nose developed an itch and I scratched it with my gloved hand. At that moment I realised what I had done. The ladder was wet with sewer “water”. Nightmare.

It would not be fair of me to leave S12 without finding something nice to say about the plot. After all sewage works do perform a useful public service and the circles that appear on the map are actually quite artistic. That’s it though.

S12, sewage works, yuk.

The banana death roll

Saturday, April 27th, 2013

Rare photograph of bananas just before death. The sight was too gruesome for video – the screams raise the hairs on the back of the neck.

This is not an instant death. The bananas suffer terribly as the black death gradually makes its way around their yellow skins, eventually eating into their emaciated flesh. The pungent sweet smell can be overpowering.

As decay sets in the writhing of the bananas gradually subsides and one by one they give up the fight. Their long journey from fair trade plantation to plate is over and in the case of the bananas in this photograph completely unsuccessful. Bananas thrive on being eaten. Served with custard or cream and strawberries they achieve the height of banana ambition and move on to banana heaven.

The plight of our bananas is heartbreaking. Wasted lives destined for the ignominy of the compost heap. The banana is dead, bring on another bunch of bananas.


This post was made possible due to the bravery of the small production team that spent months patiently waiting for bananas brought back from the supermarket to not be eaten and for the conditions therefore to be right to catch them in their death roll. With this particular bunch on more than one occasion they were approached and consideration given to their consumption. As time went by their chances of being eaten grew less and less until it became clear that it wasn’t going to happen. At this point the crew moved in to get a closer view of the final death roll and the result is the impressive shot in the featured image of this post.

“The banana death roll” is available for hire at galleries anywhere in the world. Please contact Philosopherontap for more details.

Lincoln A2Z Bb2 The Joiners Arms

Saturday, April 27th, 2013

I’ve only ever been to the Joiners Arms the once but that was only a couple of weeks ago and you can be sure that I’ll be going again. I was late home on a Friday night having been to Derbyshire to drop the kids off on their Duke of Edinburgh Silver Award expedition. It’s not my idea of a good time, driving to Derbyshire and back on a Friday evening!

I didn’t get to the pub until 8.45. That’s unusual for me on a Friday night. I normally like to get a few in early doors and then get home for dinner with Anne at a sensible time. On this occasion it was too late for dinner so I called the boys to see if they were still around. They were, at the Joiners Arms.

The Joiners Arms is on Victoria Street, near the copshop on West Parade in Lincoln. You will have probably seen the Burton Arms without noticing the Joiners Arms further up the street on the left.

I’ve got to tell you it’s a gem. When I got there the boys were playing killer on the pool table. Miss three pots and you’re out. Pound in winner takes all. They had been drinking since five o’clock so the party was in full swing by the time I got there. I had half an hour before picking up my takeaway from the Newport Arms Chinese Restaurant up the hill so I nursed a pint but still had a good chat.

The thing about the Joiners Arms is that it is a simple proper pub. No pretensions. There is a wide selection of real ales behind the bar at very reasonable prices. There was no juke box, just a CD player which people used to play their CDs of choice.

The game of killer eventually finished, someone loudly took his winnings and the boys began to move on to the Tap And Spile down the road. I set off for my takeaway and home. The Joiners Arms deserves success. I shall return.

A study in toast and marmalade

Saturday, April 27th, 2013

Toast and marmalade made in the kitchen.

This is the same kitchen used by the artist for his still life studies as characterised by “Painted chair in early morning light” in which you can see the black marble effect worktop that forms the backdrop for “toast and marmalade”.

The relatively thin slices of bread used in the making of the toast reflect the fact that the global recession was still ongoing. On the other hand the copious amount of butter applied to the toast appear to show that artist Davies is himself in denial of this fact, at least at the time the pixels were captured.

Of some considerable interest to afficionados of fruit preservation will be that the marmalade is of the bitter Seville orange variety and was made by Davies. The outcome offers the palate a perfect bitter sweet experience and with several large jars remaining will be consumed at breakfast for some years to come.

The spoon shown on the plate was used to scoop the marmalade from its kilner jar and the knife used to spread both butter and marmalade unevenly across the toast.

One final comment is that this study was clearly an afterthought as someone, presumably the artist himself, has already taken a bite out of one of the slices of toast. This would not have originally formed part of the planned composition of the scene thought it in no way minimises the quality of the final outcome.

Live performances of “A study in toast and marmalade” can be made available for a fee – apply through Philosopherontap. Early enquiries are encouraged as once the original marmalade stocks are consumed a replacement variety will have to be used. This first original platter is no longer available for live display.

The many headed hydra of Covent Garden

Friday, April 26th, 2013

Visitors should take care when exploring the side alleys in the centre of our capital city for there lurk scary beasts and ghastly ghouls that at the merest glance will turn your hair white and wipe your memory clean with their horrible mantle of fear.

This photo, taken down such a side street, is a rare shot of the many headed hydra of Covent Garden. It was good fortune that we came across the monster in its static state for when roused its sharp prongs are known to mutilate and maim and in its full openly angry state its widespread tentacles can poke your eye out in a manner most discomforting to the person of elevated disposition.

Beware, beware the streets of entrapment; for the unwary the end is certain. The horrible, horrible many headed hydra of Covent Garden will draw you in. Nyahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…

Painted chair in early morning light

Thursday, April 25th, 2013

Chair in period cream painted by the artist’s wife using a pot of paint randomly acquired by the children some years ago. The tin of paint was in a cardboard box outside someone’s house and labelled “free to a good home”.

There is plenty of interest in this scene and the slightly off centre position of what is notionally the centrepiece lays down a gauntlet to traditionalists.

The tap spout in the sink by the window points away from the chair suggesting a friction between the establishment and the new order.

The presence of many fridge magnets represents attempts by the artist to spread his ideas widely to numerous places frequented by large numbers of people during summer months.

The paint stained copy of the Bailgate Independent on the table contains an editorial piece on the launch of Book1, The Abandoned Sandy Shoe and Other Chinks in the Curtains of Life.

Original signed prints of this work can be obtained by contacting tref via the philosopherontap site.

One hundred and twenty two

Monday, April 22nd, 2013

XOne family,
one car;
one family car,
one forty-tonne truck.

One quarter,
of one percent;
of the annual price,
of one freedom.

One careless word,
one silly post;
one early morning knock,
one costly mistake.

One threat: eliminated;
one risk: unmitigated.

You remind me,
you protect me;
from threats,
I do not see.

One hundred and twenty two,
remind you;
of just one,
I do.

Leaflets, leaflets, get yer leaflets ere

Sunday, April 21st, 2013

Went out delivering leaflets for the book launch yesterday. Couple of hours of so starting down the right hand side of Lee Road then wending my way round the houses until I finished up at the Burton Road Chippy where Lesley very kindly treated me to an ice filled glass of Diet Coke.

My leaflet delivering methods are not very scientific. If I didn’t feel like delivering to a particular house I didn’t.  This would be the case, for example, if the gate was closed and it was a long walk to the front door in front of plate glass windows.

I wasn’t bothered about getting every house. I didn’t have enough leaflets for the whole of Lincoln anyway and as long as I got some out there I was happy. I only delivered to one side of Lee Road. Having to cross back and forth would not have been efficient.

Delivering the leaflets was a bit of a learning experience. It made me sympathise with postmen. Putting your letterbox at ankle height is most unfriendly. Also not all letterboxes are easy to get things through, especially those with brushes designed to keep out draughts. Trying to shove a leaflet through the letterbox of a terrace house when you know that there is someone sitting in the room just the other side of the door calls for mental strength, resolution, especially when you know they haven’t asked for the leaflet.

Quite a number of letterboxes had notes taped to them asking people not to deliver things. These ranged from “no free newspapers” to a whole list of proscribed items: “no junk mail, no menus, no charity bags, no canvassers”. My leaflet was of course a beautifully designed piece of art that no one could ever describe as junk mail but I let that house go. They didn’t seem to be the sort of people who would want to come to the book launch anyway.

I came across the occasional dog. At one house a ferocious Alsation tore the leaflet to shreds the moment I put it through the door. Wondered what the owners did to get readable mail. Maybe no one sends them letters anyway.

The terrace houses between Newport and Burton Road were conveniently close together for effective leaflet distribution. Unfortunately for the residents this was known to the local takeaway restaurants who must make a habit of spamming the area. One house specifically requested no takeaway menus.

After a couple of hours I ended up with Lesley and unfortunately the break took away my enthusiasm to deliver any more. It didn’t matter. As I said I didn’t have a specific target. Popped in to Clearview Opticians to order some more contact lenses from Annabel and set off for home.

Outside the Coop I bumped in to Andrew Walton from the office who put the idea of beer in my head. I was already  going to the rugby club for the afternoon to wath the last ever home game of Lincoln RFC at the Lindum ground. They are moving to Nettleham next season. On that basis I figured a beer at the Strugglers would be fine so I popped in there for a pint of Landlord. I also popped into the Morning Star for another so it took me a little while to get home but I figured I deserved it.

I reckon I still have around 400 leaflets left to get rid of which may or may not happen. That’s OK.  The counter on shows there are 17 days to go and I’m pretty confident of getting a good turn out for the launch.

That’s enough of an update. Ciao.

French national anthem a la philosopherontap

Sunday, April 21st, 2013

Na na na naa naa naa naa naaa na na

Na naa na naa naa, naa na naaa

Na na na naa naa naa naa naaa na na

Na naa na naa naa, naa na naaa

Na na naa naa naa naa na naa naaa

Na na naa naa naa naa na naaa

Naa naaa na na na naaa

Naa naaa na na na naaa

Naa naa, naa naa, naa na na naa

Naa naa nan a na naaa.


Vive la republique!


Alternative French national anthem sung whilst on rugby tour to France

Na na na naa naa naa naa naaa na na

Na naa na naa naa, naa na naaa

Na na na naa naa naa naa naaa na na

Na naa na naa naa, naa na naaa

Na na naa naa naa naa na naa naaa

Na na naa naa naa naa na naaa

Ou est le papier?

Ou est le papier?

Naa naaa na na na naaa

Naa naa, naa naa, naa na na naa

Ou est le papier?


Quinze bierre encore sil vous plait

The vending machine

Thursday, April 18th, 2013

This is the vending machine. The ultimate collision of science and art.  But no ordinary vending machine this. It’s bottle retrieval and dispensing mechanism is a joy to behold. People have been known to spend their entire life’s savings on fizzy pop from this machine just to be able to watch it in action, over and over again. It’s the pinnacle of art, a work so mesmerising as to be addictive. The E number filled rubbish it dispenses contrasts uncomfortably with its mechanical functional elegance, beauty.  It is at once a chink, a collision, poetry in motion, thought stimulant, a travelogue and indeed if the video is set to repeat, a representation of the Third Law. It is both disturbing and fulfilling.

At this point there is nothing further to say. Please watch the video.

This video was filmed at Hamburg’s Miniatur Wunderland, the world’s biggest model railway.

duck eggs in Lincoln market

Thursday, April 18th, 2013

Quite appropriate that they sell duck eggs in Lincoln market intit duck?

I have never, to my knowledge, eaten a duck egg.

Duck eggs are larger than those of chickens but not as big as an ostrich egg. It is logical that it should take fewer duck eggs to make an omlette.

According to Wikipedia eggs are laid by females of many different species, including birds, reptiles, amphibians, and fish.

Ducks can fly though that has nothing whatsoever to do with their eggs. I am not aware of a duck ever having to lay an egg in mid flight, perhaps to jettison some weight and regain altitude. Should such an eventuality ever occur then it could prove awkward for anyone under the flight path.

A duck egg is more likely to equate to the “free range” egg in the chicken world as they are not typically battery farmed1.

My favourite Chinese dish is crispy duck. There used to be a restaurant in Lincoln called Seelys that I particularly liked and  they used to serve duck breast in ginger sauce. Yum.

Duck down is used in continental quilts, pillows and high end sleeping bags.

The classic word used to represent duck “speak” is “quack”.

I like ducks.

The term  duck is used to represent the act of lowering one’s head to avoid being hit by an object, fixed or in motion.

Donald Duck is a Disney cartoon character. Daffy Duck on the other hand is by Warner Brothers. I prefer Daffy to Donald, sorry.

The term Donald Duck is sometimes used in Cockney rhyming slang, or at least it feels as if it should be.

There are many different types of duck. Ducks like water.

1 this is pure speculation mind you and not based on any real knowledge of the duck “manufacturing” industry.