where art collides philosoperontap

May 6, 2013

3rd Law Part 23 – strategies for boring moments, bingo and ten pin bowling

Filed under: 3rd law — Tags: — Trefor Davies @ 10:26 am

I’m sure you will have noticed that when it is nice weather everyone is happier. Obvious statement I know but I felt like stating the obvious. It’s just that it is such a morning. It’s not only us surfers that are happy. The boids are too. I also felt like slipping into the vernacular of the East coast of the USA. It’s all based on gangster movies seen as a kid. I’m sure the old black and white movies are better than the stuff they have on today. Simpler. Ahh the good  old days.

They should have a channel on TV that just shows repeats of black and white movies. They probably do – it’s probably called BBC2 or something 🙂 Sorry if that was being disrespectful to BBC 2. That’s just what it was like when I was a kid. It’s almost certainly not like that any more. Bound to be filled with good stuff.

I dunno really. I watched the snooker on BB2 the other day. Maybe it just plays snooker matches. There is a lesson here and that is one needs to have a better set of statistical data in order to be able to determine what sort of stuff a TV channel puts out. If you left it to me I might tell you that BBC2 just showed old episodes of I Love Lucy and Snooker. I’m exaggerating somewhat here for dramatic effect but you know what I mean.

I used to like I Love Lucy when I was a kid. Showing my age a bit here innit but hey. This post is of the moment and the small print of the 3rd Law states that in reality the time goes quickly principle applies to most aspects of life except when you are having to sit through a really boring church service or lecture or similar.

I remember we once went to the wedding of a friend in the South of England and it turned out to be the deeply religious full monty high church jobbie. After the third hour we were all preparing to slit our wrists when I plucked up the courage to go outside. I stood in front of the window of  TV shop and watched Beckham curl in a free kick from an unlikely distance from goal to get England through the qualifiers and into the world cup.

Since then I’ve learnt not to wait the three hours. I just get up and leave straight away life’s too short when you live by the 3rd Law. This included the time I was a guest speaker on a business cruise aboard the Aurora Cruise Liner. The life of a guest speaker aboard these liners is highly cushy. In four days I did two talks and moderated three workshops and had the rest of the time to myself doing what one does on cruise liners – gazing out to the blue horizon from my outside stateroom balcony, relaxing on a deck lounger by the pool etc etc.

During the welcome reception on the first night I sat at the bar next to some guy from the Chartered Institue of PR. We exchanged business cards. He was their Director of Business Development or some similar lofty role. Once he saw who I was, ie not someone on board for the PR conference, he instantly lost interest in me and his eyes started to wander around the room. That’s cool I thought to myself and toddled off to spend half an hour having a very entertaining chat with Geoff Miller, Chairman of the England Cricket Selectors (that’s how I roll).

A couple of days later I had had enough of sitting round the pool so I took a gander at what conference talks were on and decided to go to a potentially interesting hour hearing about up to the minute PR methods. I have very broad interests really. It turned out that the talk was being given to my PR friend of the first night. I chose a spot bang in the middle and near the front and settled in ready to learn. What came out was the most boring lot of drivel I have ever heard. This guy patronised the audience with a very poorly delivered lecture on very basic PR principles. I was offended but gave him 15 minutes before standing up in front of everyone and walking out.

Later I was having a coffee and over heard some women talking about a lecture they had been to and how they had given it a low score on the feedback form. I asked whether they were talking about the PR guy and they were! 🙂 Saying I had walked out on it they said that they had all wanted to do but were too embarrassed. I hope that guy has improved his public speaking or stopped doing it!

I do have other similar stories but I’ll keep them for slow news day.

It’s a funny aspect of nice weather that I never seem to play golf in it. I play in the winter wrapped up in umpteen layers but when the sun comes out and it looks as if it is perfect for the golf course a kid always comes along and demands my time. I can’t complain. It’s the 3rd Law again. The kid will be gone soon enough and I will spend my days playing golf and wishing I could get my handicap down and regretting not spending enough time playing when I was younger.

Only joking really. If I didn’t play golf what would we do with that space in the utility room where the clubs are currently kept!?

The only problem with nice weather is that one’s mind turns to barbecues. “Woa boy how is that a problem” I hear you say. Ok I know where you are coming from but barbecues mean lots of chilled beers, great food eaten in the outdoors followed by sitting around the firepit (for yes, our BBQ is also a firepit) drinking brandy until the sun goes down and you go indoors to watch the snooker on BBC2.

Hmm, on further examination you are right. It is not a problem. We have a good garden for barbecues. There is always a choice between sun and shade somewhere. We havea deck at the bottom of the garden that doesn’t get used all that much though it is nice to sit there and have lunch in the shade on a hot summer’s day. There is also a space for a hot tub. It is currently occupied by a “play house”. It’s a huge two storey thing that was a great idea when the kids were really small but has only been used to store garden furniture for the last few years.

There are only three things stopping us from getting a hot tub. The first is that they are expensive. Secondly it wouldn’t get used that much and thirdly where would we keep the garden furniture? We could wait until the kids have all left home even though they would no doubt complain that it would have been nice to have the hot tub available for teenage parties. We don’t want no teenager parties around here, wrecking the joint.

We had a marquee in the garden for our daughter Hannah’s eighteenth. She had a joint bash with her lifelong buddy Lois. It was quite a bit of fun exploring the options. Lois’ dad Steve and I ended up having beers in the pubs that we checked out as venues. Funnily enough there weren’t many places in Lincoln that would take an eighteenth birthday party. None. Not even the rugby club!!!!

In the end we did it ourselves and it worked out really well. A hundred or so kids turned up in their glad rags. They were only allowed in the house to go to the downstairs loo and to the bar which was in the conservatory. Boy have drinking habits changed since I was a kid. It didn’t take us very long to run out of vodka which seemed to be all they drank. We had to have two restocking runs to Tesco.

They all left dutifully at the stroke of midnight which is the time the parents turn into pumpkins and leave glass slippers strewn all over the place. There was only one casualty, a kid from round the corner who kept imploring me not to tell his mum that he had been slightly unwell and spent half the night with his head in the bin I had set aside for recycling bottles. It wouldn’t have taken his mum long to find out I thought.

I think they had a great eighteenth. She’d better not be expecting a 21st though 🙂 Nice quiet family affair maybe. My 50th was a good do. It was in December and we had a beach party and barbecue. We’re on that theme again. Barbecues. On that occasion I got some students in from the local catering college to run the BBQ, the bar and dish out the nosh. It was a great night, from what I can remember. We drank a barrel of Timothy Taylors’ Landlord.

That was some time ago now though the 3rd Law says it feels like yesterday. Got to cram thing into this life. Get on with it.

Looking up from this bit of writing just now I notice a tweet from Beverly Racecourse in my twitter stream. What a wonderful name for a girl. Mr & Mrs Racecourse and their daughter Beverly have just arrived in town and are looking for some entertainment. Any takers? Who’s up for it? Come on now, don’t be shy, give it a try.

The trouble is what keeps the Racecourse family entertained might not be your or my cup of tea (not completely sure of the grammar there). They might in fact like to spend their evening playing whist and drinking copious quantities of tea whereas the rest of us might want to go off and play bingo. I only chose bingo as an example. It is unlikely that I would want to “go off and play bingo” though I don’t object to a few hands whilst out and about at the seaside. Do they play “hands” of bingo? Might be cards. Anyway it doesn’t matter, the principle is the same.

I have been known to have a game of bowls, of the crown green variety. It’s a young man’s sport regardless of what they say. Better than ten pin bowling at which I am pleased to say I am completely useless. My position is that if you are good at ten pin bowling there is something wrong with you. Especially if you have your own bowling shirt, ball and bag. I am sorry but that is how I feel.

There’s something quite cathartic about writing that down. It’s off my chest now. I already feel better. Mind you I wouldn’t want you to go around thinking that I have been worried about the bowling thing because I haven’t. It does put me in a certain camp. Those who think like I think. I may be wrong but I think I am in the majority. Please don’t take this as me picking on minorities.  I would take the same view for all sorts of cults to a greater or lesser degree especially ones that make you wear fancy clothes and carry round shaped bags.

Funny how stuff just comes out like that though. That’s the beauty of it all. Things. Life. Stuff. Tinternet.

Part 22 here

Part 24 here

 

May 5, 2013

Lincoln A2Z W18 Branston Old Hall

Filed under: A 2 Z — Tags: , , , , , — Trefor Davies @ 9:23 am

I have to be honest with you I know absolutely nothing about Branston Old Hall. Nowt, niet, dim byd o gwbl – that last bit was in Welsh in case you are wondering. I wouldn’t want you to think that Welsh was ever natively spoken in the area because I’m not sure it ever was. However I am Welsh and there has clearly been some population movement from the West of the British Isles into the general Lincoln area at some point in history.

One might ask what therefore qualifies me to write a piece for Lincoln AtoZ on the subject. Well here’s the rub. They didn’t say I ever had to have been there though something in the deepest recesses of my memory banks tells me I might have been there for a wedding once but how do you expect me to remember the details. It was a wedding for goodness sake. They all pretty much fade into one and it has been some considerable time since I actually went to one.

Apart from my own wedding the one I do specifically remember was that of Ian and Michelle Reid. The do was somewhere between Lincoln and Scunthorpe – we got there on a coach. The reason I specifically remember it was because our table was supposed to have eight people but only four made it to the “breakfast”. One couple that to leave with their little boy because she went into labour in the church and another person had to bow out because she had the flu.

So there we were on a table for eight but with only four people present. We all had two bread rolls, two starters, two glasses of champagne, two puddings and best of all, knowing their friends well, the bride and groom had very generously laid on six bottles of wine for the table. It was made even better by the fact that one of the people on our table was driving!!! What a night. I’m surprised I remember it at all.

Anyway that wasn’t Branston Old Hall. A cursory glance using Google tells me Branston Old Hall was built in 1735 by Lord Vere Bertie. Sounds like a character from a Jeeves novel doesn’t he? After the Enclosure Act of 1765 he was the largest landowner in the area. His land stretched as far as the River Witham. That’s all you’re getting because frankly I’m not interested in doing any more research on this subject. Google it if you want. It’s easy enough.

Arrivederchi (lots of Italians around here innit? – population movement and all that)

May 4, 2013

posters

Filed under: poems — Tags: — Trefor Davies @ 5:49 pm

No billboard just coffee table,

mostly words, laid bare,

open or not for interpretation,

initially free of stain, coffee or other.

 

posters

Mimsy Borogove

Filed under: chinks — Tags: , — Trefor Davies @ 10:24 am

Mimsy Borogove I love your name and the visions it evokes. I see you in a 1920s dress with pearls and a headband dancing the twitterbug with other fun people in front of The Ritz House Orchestra. You drink cocktails and love to go to country house parties which you get to by cadging a lift in a friend’s convertible or by catching the 11.34 from Kings Cross station and arriving just in time to get changed for dinner. Your take your summer holidays in Cannes at a friends villa and are often to be seen at the casino or swimming in the sea or playing golf on the promontory overlooking the bay.

Although I love your name I have made no effort to look for you. I never want to meet you or see what you look like because I don’t want to be disappointed. I just happened to see your name once in my twitter stream. I don’t want to find that you aren’t what I imagined and neither do I want to find that you are exactly as envisioned but have nothing of interest whatsoever to say.

I will read your book when it comes out though if you let me know about it which will be difficult unless you find this post when searching for mentions of you using Google. Please leave a link:)

May 1, 2013

Art and the boy from The North

Filed under: the art gallery — Tags: — Rob Wilmot @ 1:59 pm

Hello, my name’s Rob Wilmot. Over several brandies, Tref persuaded me to take on the role of Art Correspondent on his blog, Philosopherontap. He and I are a bit alike, as we’ve both made our careers as technologists whilst at the same time allowing our artistic souls to surface occasionally.

So here I am.  I thought long and hard about what to write as my first post, and I’ve settled for introducing myself via my artistic journey. A bit pretentious maybe… but authentic I hope.

When I was young I used to love the paintings of Constable – I vividly remember being transfixed by the ‘big canvases’ at the National Gallery.  My outlook on life was pit village, working class narrow. There was no World Wide Web and I liked what my art teacher said I should pursue, which was the art of the traditional realist persuasion.

At the age of eighteen I focused my Art ‘A’ Level thesis on the work of John Constable. I recently dug it out to jog my memories for this post. It’s so naïve and sweet, but it does have some ‘gems’ in it which still ring true for me. With my limited resources – a local library (there was still no WWW) – I discovered other works by artists like Claude Lorrain, prominent three centuries prior to Constable, and was delighted to recognise the similarities in their perspective and composition. Both were literal landscape painters, though where Lorrain fixed mythical figures in his vistas, Constable added the exquisite normality of the child and the dog playing in the river. I learned the lesson that the new often borrowed from the old.  It was through my exploration of Constable that I discovered Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot and it was the intensity of his depiction of light and shadow that transfixed me. One of my favourite paintings of all time is Corot’s painting ‘The Cabassud House, Ville D’Avray’. Oddly, I can’t find it online but here’s a link to a similar painting of the same subject.  For me this places the artist at the intersection between literal landscape and impressionism – a line almost, but not quite, crossed by Constable in his later paintings. Corot and Constable never met, but they both visited and painted scenes of the Forest of Fontainebleau.

In my early twenties I discovered the possibilities of multimedia. By serendipity rather than good judgement I landed on a course at the University of Bradford grandly entitled ‘Electronic Imaging and Media Communications’. This course was ‘new age’ – a science degree, but with a cohort selected from both arty and scientific candidates. It presented a melting pot of ideas and it was here that I discovered the work of Bill Viola on a field trip to an exhibition at the Albert Docks in Liverpool. His Audio Visual installations struck a deep chord with me: the perfect convergence of poetry, art and technology on a majestic scale. It was after this discovery that I created my first ‘real’ work of art – an interactive graphic novel based on a story I wrote about a scientist who digitally encodes his DNA and his consciousness. Having beamed these into space, they are picked up 26 years later by aliens who recreate the scientist from the digital patterns and return the doppelgänger to earth 54 years later.

It can’t have been complete tosh as it seemed to catch the Zeitgeist of the coming of the home computer age, winning the IBM’s International Leonardo da Vinci Awards for multimedia. A proud moment for me: not because I won but because I got to meet Terry Pratchett, an up and coming author at the time. He was one of the judges and he made a special point of approaching me over drinks and nibbles to divulge that he’d voted for me because my work was ‘disruptive’. Well that’s been me ever since 🙂

I bypassed the likes of Tracey Emin and Damien Hirst. I still to this day believe that their patron, Charles Saatchi, was the real artist persuading us that the ‘work’ of these conceptual artists was indeed worthy of being called art: The epitome of the emperor’s new clothes woven by the consummate brand man.

And then I discovered the World Wide Web… well it discovered me really, but that’s another story.

I began an online exploration and found the works of David Hockney, Lucian Freud, Marc Chagall, and Francis Bacon. I’ve been fortunate in that the second half of my life (so far) has taken me around the world and I’ve been able to stand inches from some of the great works of the artists I admire. I love to analyse brush strokes, to see paint in relief: the circle created by the impression of the baked bean can, and the fingerprints of the artist abandoning the brush for the freedom of skin on canvas.

My unplanned career in technology and business has more often than not steered me away from creating my own art. But in 1996 both worlds intersected when I had a chance epiphany at the International Petroleum Exchange  (IPE).  I was building a web based stock trading news and prices system for a client at the time and needed some pictures for the homepage. I wanted to capture the intensity and passion of the trading floor and the IPE was one of the last places in the UK that still used the ‘open outcry’ method of trading. Open outcry is the trading you’ve seem in films and TV where representatives of firms dress in distinctive, brightly-coloured, jackets and scream and shout at each other, waving their hands with frantic gestures to indicate the option to buy or sell. I spent a day there taking pictures but, as there were no digital cameras that could capture action based stills back then, we shot on standard film. Luckily I had a professional photographer who could get the right exposure for the lighting conditions of the vast trading floor, but I also took pictures with my bog standard Olympus Mju compact camera. After getting the snaps back from Boots, I found that many of the pictures had motion blur. One of the designers on my web team at the time commented that they we’re reminiscent of some of Francis Bacon’s work.  Something in this caught my imagination and I rented a studio in Harrogate and got to work. Two months later I had created a series of large format triptychs using acrylic and oil paints on canvases that I had stretched with my own hands. An exhibition entitled “Oil on Canvas” (get it?) was staged in what was a bit of a blur, and to my amazement, everything sold (except two triptychs that I held back because I had fallen in love with them).

Several years later, I got and email out of the blue from the Chief Executive of the IPE. He was moving jobs and had not stopped thinking of my paintings since viewing them years before. After a private showing in London Docklands he persuaded me to part with one of my remaining triptychs. His name is Dr Richard Ward and he moved on to the role of Chief Executive, Lloyds of London. For many years my (now his) pictures hung in pride of place on the wall of his office at the top of the Lloyds building. They now hang in the study of his London home, apparently because he loves them so much.  Other people have their work on their walls, but Richard is the only one who has made a point of telling me he would never part with them.

So there you have it, a potted history of me and the art that has helped shape the way I think and work. I continue to paint and take photos. Two of my children, Sam and Tom, will soon graduate from university as hard scientists: zoology and forensics respectively, though the artistic gene seems to have asserted dominance in my daughter, Grace. We sometimes paint together – though not nearly enough.

I’ll be posting reasonably frequently from now on …well that’s the plan anyway.

In the meantime, you can also follow my tweets @robwilmot and learn more about me on LinkedIn

And finally, as a way for me to get to know you, why don’t you use the comments area below to tell me about your favourite artist and how they have inspired you?

April 28, 2013

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

Filed under: chinks,the art gallery — Tags: , , , — Trefor Davies @ 9:14 pm

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

Filed under: A 2 Z — Tags: , , , — Trefor Davies @ 5:11 pm

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 http://www.parksandgardens.org/places-and-people/site/2812?preview=1

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

Filed under: 3rd law — Tags: , , — Trefor Davies @ 1:19 pm

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

Filed under: fusion,the art gallery — Tags: , , , , — Trefor Davies @ 9:23 am

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.

Seasoning

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.

Variety

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

Nah!

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…

Conclusion

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.

April 27, 2013

Lincoln A2Z S12 sewage works

Filed under: A 2 Z — Tags: , , , , — Trefor Davies @ 4:32 pm

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

Filed under: the art gallery — Tags: , , — Trefor Davies @ 3:27 pm

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.

Postscript

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

Filed under: A 2 Z — Tags: , , , — Trefor Davies @ 3:07 pm

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

Filed under: the art gallery — Tags: , — Trefor Davies @ 9:03 am

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.

April 26, 2013

The many headed hydra of Covent Garden

Filed under: ideas,the art gallery — Tags: , — Trefor Davies @ 6:18 pm

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…

April 25, 2013

Painted chair in early morning light

Filed under: the art gallery — Tags: , , — Trefor Davies @ 6:41 am

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 philosopherontap.com 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.

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