Excuse me, mister, if you'd like to kindly step this way...

I've a fine selection of gentlemen's threads
Purloined from a rascal while he grabbed his zeds:
Tunics, jerkins, weskits and britches,
Stockings and sockings and smalls (free of itches!)
Hats with a tricorn, a bicorn or peak on it,
Syrups, rugs, toupes (rest assured I won't speak on it)
And all can be offered at a beggar-me fee
I must shift 'em quick, 'cos the law's after me...

More spam

Things have moved on from the days of, 'I am an exiled West African finance minister, and I need someone to buy pies for me on the internet in return for a 10% pie commission'. Today I received this spam mail:

Drusilla's Zoo in South-East England have an excess of Colobus Monkeys. They are working in conjunction with Microsoft and the RSPCA to relieve this ape overload by giving away monkeys to anyone who wants one. All you have to do is forward this email to 5 of your friends. Within one week you will be contacted by Drusilla Monkey Deliveries to arrange a time to deliver your monkey. And whatever you wished for will come true. As long as you wished for a monkey.

Space Cats

Recently I have become obsessed with space cats. I don't know why. I think it is their cute little astronaut suits and their laser guns. They have been fighting the moon pigs for 3 eons now, but they seem to be doing OK. I hope they win.

The Horror

Ghost stories are one of the things I love about Christmas. At this cold, dark time of year, with the wind howling and leaves on the line, there is nothing better than to gather together for warmth and companionship; to huddle close and share spooky stories.

My family are rubbish at ghost stories, so I have rented a number of classic horror films to while away the cold gloomy evenings. Here are some that I am particularly looking forward to:

The Bats are Squeaking
The Ghost of the Marmalady
The Day the Vampiriton Failed
Twilight of the Long-Eared Gerboa
Murdery Knife
Fatal Incompetence
The Lurgy
The H_ngm_n
The Guest in Room 177 Who Has No Shoes
The Thingy
The Hell-evator
The Beast of Patrick Moore
Poltergeist Cockney Returns
Hairstyle of the Werewolf
Dracula's Aviary Part 2
Killaholics Anonymous
Beam me up, Spooky (Star Trek spin-off)

A story

It was a sunny morning but there was a sharp December chill in the air as I walked briskly up Kingsway among the rush-hour pedestrians. My faithful German boy-servant Capable Hans was beside me, skipping a little to keep up with my stride. I had partaken of a little too much Old Watkin's Tubthumper the previous evening, and my condition must have been obvious because, entirely unbidden, Hans slowed briefly to hover by a news stand, and then expertly removed a can of Dr Fizzy on my behalf while the stallkeeper's attention was elsewhere.

'Now less sugar' the can said. And less flavour, it became apparent. 'Can you handle the taste?' the can asked. I was more than capable of doing so.

Up ahead was an student from the arts college, baseball cap set high on his ginger afro and his skinny trousers so tight that the movement of his legs was constricted. As I overtook him I seemed to catch him winking at Hans, but Hans appeared not to notice. I was about to comment, but we had arrived at the door to my office.

It was an inconspicuous and dusty teak double door, set back slightly from the street, in a grey granite block of a building. There was, from the outside, no indication as to what went on within.
(to be continued)

Magpies

Magpies, like other members of the crow family, have long been the subject of various myths and superstitions. In the UK, Magpies were long seen as omens predicting the future happiness, or otherwise, of their observer. For example, seeing 1 magpie signified bad luck, while 2 magpies might indicate that you were destined to play football or maybe feel a bit off next Thursday. Here is a song that helps you remember what different numbers of magpies might signify:

Magpies (traditional)
1 for sorrow
2 for a boy
3 for pharisee
4 for tin alloy
5 for cheese sandwiches
6 for shrubs
7 for granddad's nostrils
8 for gay pubs
9 for free rail travel for a year
10 for the gibbous moon
11 for the lurgy
12 for a balloon that says 'my other balloon's a hot air one' on it

Installation Instructions

Insert disc. Then put it in your computer. It will start automatically; after a few seconds an icon will appear. It is an icon of Christ, with a CD as a halo behind his head. Click on this icon with your mouse, or other rodent. The icon will oscillate, then shake rapidly and terrifyingly and then explode in a beautiful shower of fireworks. As the sparks drift away (you can speed this up using the breeze from your desk fan), a window will appear onscreen. In the window you will see a wizard. The caption should say 'installation wizard'. If it does not you should type 'installation wizard'.
Press 'Alt Gr'. When the alternative growling has finished, the wizard will open the window and lean out. Click once on his pointy hat and twice on his wand. He will take off his hat and pull out a rabbit. Click on the wizard's hat again and a carrot will appear at the top right of the screen. Click on this and drag towards the rabbit. The rabbit will eat the carrot, then bound off screen, leaving a little trail of footprints. Sweep the footprints up and put in the recycle bin. Close the lid (you may need to click a couple of times on the little foot pedal as the lid is sometimes a little stiff). Your computer will restart. You have now installed your new PC Programme. If you wish to upgrade your programme to sargeant or superintendant please visit our on-site website.

Gentleman's Nutty Relish

I am a jolly wearer of a hazelnut moustachio
My eyebrows are quite highbrow, made of finest green pistachio
My hair is tight-curled ringlets of sweet honey-nutted cheerios
I'm not fruity - I'm a truly nutty man!

My arms are dark and wrinkly like the outside of a walnut shell
My legs are brown and nutty like those tasty hard nuts from Brazil
My face has all the smell and taste of chestnuts that the roasters sell
I say sir, I'm a truly nutty man!

Mysteries

A long time ago a nice man called Jesus was crucified and then rose from the dead. He then ascended into Heaven (not the gay nightclub).

Or did he?

He might have in fact fled to France with some disciples and perhaps even with a ladyfriend. After all, a lot of people do retire to Southern France, as it's rather nice.

I suppose we will never know for sure. It will remain a mystery, just like these other mysteries:

• why do Subway sandwiches never taste of anything, no matter how many ingredients you put in?
• why is the news always bad? (except for Jesus's news, I hear, although he hasn't told me what it is)
• are there more grains of sand in the world than there are stars in the universe, or is it exactly the same number?
• why do cats suddenly appear, every time you are near, you batty old lady?
• if Vladimir Putin was a pudding, which one would he like to be?
• where do they find the tiny men to drive Micro Machines (TM) out of the tiny factory? do the tiny men come in collections of five too?

These conundra puzzle me, as do many more, but most of them are rude so I'm not telling you about them here.

Joke

Today I discovered a joke on the internet.
http://myspacetv.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=7412567

Polymathematics

A friend recently pointed out that I am a polymath. At first I took this as a compliment, and humbly thanked (and agreed) with him.

However, it occured to me that in a developed economy such as ours, a polymath is not a good thing to be. It is far more economically useful to be expert at one very specific role and know nothing else, than to be jack of all trades and master of none. It is often not sufficient or useful to have a degree of knowledge and ability in many different fields.

So what do we do with all the polymaths that we can't find a niche for?

If you have a polymath lying round, here are some ideas you could try:

• use it as a scarecrow
• breed it with other polymaths, and attempt to breed some specialisms into the line
• use it as a mannequin to try out different clothing combinations
• release it into the wild to establish new civilisations from scratch
• have drunk conversations with it
• collect a few polymaths and make a nice arrangement for your coffee table
• give one thousand polymaths one thousand typewriters and see how long it takes before one writes a play about monkeys
• redecorate your polymath to give it a new lease of life and sell it at profit
• eat it in a casserole or stew. Yum!

The Flag of the Masons

I noticed this afternoon that the flag is flying from the roof of the Freemason's Temple.
I wonder what arcane ceremony might be taking place...

(A darkened room. One can barely see the high ceiling in the flickering candlelight. In the middle of the room, a circle of elderly men in suits, covered with crimson cloaks, move slowly in a circle, now crouching low, now raising their arms in the air, chanting):

The Masons, the Masons,
They're washing up in basins!
Remove their socks, put in a box
And call each other Jason!
They're spinning round and wearing scarves
And cutting muffins into halves
And when they're almost going to starve
Stuff muffins in their faces!

The Masons, the Masons,
When the feeling takes 'em
They dance around
And make a sound
Like crazed and horny bisons!
The Masons in their masks and gloves
The Masons chant a song of love
With stamping feet and shout above
Pray to their lord James Mason!

(Chanting continues. One of the men gets tired and has to have a sit down and a biscuit. We lose interest and move on...)

Another salesman

It was a chilly but clear mid-November morning as I walked over Waterloo bridge in the sunshine. As you cross the bridge, you get the best views over London, from the magnificent houses of parliament in the West, past the Gothamesque offices that line the river, Somerset House, St Pauls, away to the Gherkin and the city in the East with docklands in the distance. The skyline was punctuated by cranes, preparing each new building to pop up like a jack-in-the-box among the ancient and modern buildings of the thriving city.

Walking up Kingsway I watched a man in a people carrier perform a six point turn in the rush hour traffic, the drivers of the 59 and 168 hooting at him with their big bus foghorns. Then something unusual happened. I was just leaving Boots, where I had popped in to get some bonjela for my aching gums, when I was approached by a man who was not actually there; at least, he wasn't subject to the same space/time matrix that I was.

He told me he had come from Heaven to tell people about a new digital service offered by God. If I signed up I would be able to download visions, prophecies, prayers and, coming shortly, Godcasts. All I would need to do was to purchase a GodPod.

It would only be available metaphysically, so the price was quoted in good deeds rather than pounds sterling. And because it was a metaphysical device, I wouldn't have to worry about where to keep it, as it has a little clip I could use to attach it to my soul. It even came with a one year warranty covering faults, accidental damage, and theft by demonic entities (which can be a problem with metaphysical luxury goods).

I told him that yes, it sounded very interesting; I would certainly have a think about it, but I wouldn't sign up now, thanks. And I went on my way.

My Local

A horse walks into a bar.
The barman says, 'Why the long face?'
The horse says, 'My wife just left me.'

A bear walks into this bar.
He goes, 'I'll have a pint of ale......and a packet of crisps please.'
The barman says, 'Why are your hands so big?'

An Englishman, an Irishman, and a Scotsman walk into a bar.
The barman says, 'What is this, some kind of joke?'
The Welshman sitting in the corner goes, 'Well, it was going to be, but you've spoilt it now.'

A fish walks into a bar. He goes, 'Bloop bloobloop bloop.'
The barman says, 'Bloob blop bloop bloop?'
The fish says, 'I'm sorry, I didn't realise this was a gay bar.'

Ulaan Bataar - a play

I can't play the Ulaan Bataar. Can you play the Ulaan Bataar?

No, but I can play the Orang Utan.
It means orange of the forest.

I thought it meant utility monkey. Because they're like Swiss Army Apes.

Well, I went to Switzerland and didn't see a single one.

That's because they keep them in chocolate clocks. Terry's Chocolate Orang.
Tick tock bong. Yum.

Joys vs Sorrows

THE SORROW OF LIFE
POSIDIPPUS

What path of life may one hold? In the market-place are strifes and hard dealings, in the house cares; in the country labour enough, and at sea terror; and abroad, if thou hast aught, fear, and if thou art in poverty, vexation. Art married? thou wilt not be without anxieties; unmarried? thy life is yet lonelier. Children are troubles; a childless life is a crippled one. Youth is foolish, and grey hairs again feeble. In the end then the choice is of one of these two, either never to be born, or, as soon as born, to die.

THE JOY OF LIFE
METRODORUS

Hold every path of life. In the market-place are honours and prudent dealings, in the house rest; in the country the charm of nature, and at sea gain; and abroad, if thou hast aught, glory, and if thou art in poverty, thou alone knowest it. Art married? so will thine household be best; unmarried? thy life is yet lighter. Children are darlings; a childless life is an unanxious one: youth is strong, and grey hairs again reverend. The choice is not then of one of the two, either never to be born or to die; for all things are good in life.

(Select Epigrams from the Greek Anthology by J. W. Mackail)

Glass half empty vs Glass half full:

Combo

I need new spectacles.
I also need new walking boots.
And I need a new ipod.
If I can find a shop that sells mp3-playing footwear that cures myopia I'll be sorted.
They do that sort of thing with mobile phones. It can only be a matter of time.
Now be gone with you; I need to polish my knobkerry.

Why?

There is a weird construction boom going on in central London. People keep building cranes. From the window of my office I can see 8 or 9 skeletal derricks. Why?
Perhaps it is some sort of air defence system.
Also, why does my beard have so many split ends?

Military History Joke

I've invented a new flavour of ice cream, called the Gallipolitan.
It's flavoured with Kiwi, sand and Turkish Delight.

Spamela Anderson

I often receive fanmail from people I don't know, who are concerned about my self esteem and want to help me feel good about my appearance. Here are some of the emails I have received recently:

Dream of nice shape body?

Abolish disgusting fats!

Profit by the chance! – The latest & most delighting lose flesh product available – As were seen on Oprah.

Can you imagine that you are healthy?

Obesity is dangerous, stop it!

Our Warmest Helloes!!! Incomparable proposition for you Dear Customers!!!Only these five days for our clients unthinkable offer!!! On all medicinal remedies you want!!! Fill your life with colours of festivity!!!

WE ALWAYS GIVE YOU TO UNKNOWN ALL HER WISHES. MAKE HER DREAMT THAT SHE NEVER HAD BEFORE. MEN YOU WILL BE FULL OF PROVIDE TO UNBELIEVABLE YOUR WOMEN!

The guys get jealous now when they see me in the bathroom, my banger is HUGE now thanks to this pill.

Cuties always whizgiggled at me and even chaps did in the open toilet! Well, now I sriek at them, because I took this pill for 5 months and now my tool is dreadfully bigger than world!

Hat of Hate

Things I am adding to the Wall of Hate this week:

• mild cheddar
• the experimental band Directing Hand
• fruit flies
• dawdlers
• the 'war on terror'
• noisy refrigeration units

Dinner

I caught a greyfish
Slippety slap
It fell out of the fishnet
Into my lap
It glooped and it globbled
And wasn't quite dead
Until I battered it
Over the head

I caught a potato
At the back of a shop
I cut out its eyes
Choppity chop
I sliced it in pieces
Snick snick snick
And fried them in hot oil
Quickety quick

Fish and chip
Fish and chip
Fish and chip
Pea
Sauce
Eat it all up

On getting a Snickers

I love getting snacks from vending machines, because your change comes out refrigerated, coins like little metal ice cubes. They feel icy cold but dry in your pocket. It made me think of a song which my mother used to sing to me when I was little:

"Dogs' eggs and frogs' legs
And old broken clothes pegs
Fat cats in elf hats
And pictures of fruit bats
Berries and ferries and knobbly knees
These are all thinkings that occupy me
Notches and crutches
And things nicked from churches
Nodules and toggles and kittens in holdalls
Seagulls and beagles and ferrets on leashes
These are all things that I put in my quiches.
When the pork chops, when the bus stops, when clown babies crowd your mind,
When the moon lands, when the brass bands, you will be sure to find...
Lupins and moomins and logs all a'fluming
Vandals in sandals and Chief Montezuma
Robots and reef knots and snails on skates
Remember these things and you'll never be late!"

I've never quite been able to work out what she was getting at.

Dear Lord. Fetch!

It is no mistake that dog is God backwards.

Or rather, doG is God backwards.

How very droL.

Back to the coal face

Things change quickly at my office. A number of innovations have been introduced that will increase productivity and improve the work ethic.
1. we have had wireless mice (and unfortunately the mammalian ones too) for some time, but I hear we're now to be given hands-free keyboards. These will plug directly into the user's brain via a USB port sunk into his forehead. This will allow the worker to type simply by thinking the letters one by one, leaving his hands free to operate the telephone, change the contrast on his PC monitor or pick his nose.
2. the watercooler grapevine has it that our new company theme song will be 'Take Five' by the Dave Brubeck Trio.
3. my department can sometimes get a little busy and tempers rise, so we are introducing a swearbox. Each time one of us uses a swearword we must put a pound in the box. Special dispensation has been give to my colleague Dave Cock because it could otherwise be difficult for him.

Old soak

I have realised that I am becoming an old soak.
Must remember to do something about that.

Apples and pears

I was in Tesco last night. I bought some apples. They were not from New Zealand, where, working under the instructions of the dark lord Sauron, hobbits and orcs produce thousands of tons of bland generic apples for the British market each year. They were from...
Kent!
Imagine that, just 50 miles from where I live. Even if they did go via a distribution centre in Derbyshire. It's the thought that counts.

And they were of a different variety too: 'Discovery'.
It was quite a 'discovery' for me, I can tell you!
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
Ha ha ha ha!
Ha ha.
Yep.

In on the (inter(net))action

It's good to see these days that even dairy products are revealing their secrets to the world at large via the interweb.
This maturing cheddar has had more than 1.5 million views.
That's quite a few more than this blog.

Hip AND cool

I am quite well known as part of the cool set in London. I am at the forefront of many of the latest trends and fashions (but not fads) that take hold among the hipsters and Fonzerati of this nation's great capital.
For example, I am currently sporting a beard. Not a goatee, a jazz tuft, an Abe Lincoln or a bodkin. A simple, 'stop shaving for a couple of weeks' beard. No fuss or poncing, just masculinity. Let the testosterone do the talkin'. And many fellow Londoners (most of them male) are doing likewise.
It was the same when I started wearing combat trousers in the 1990s, and when I took to dressing as a Beefeater last year. Next I intend to be seen sporting a top hat, as I think this item of headgear deserves a revival.
It's not easy being cool. People often stop me in the street and say, 'Excuse me, do you have the time?' or 'Can you direct me to Lincoln's Inn Fields'. And do you know what I say to them?
Nothing, because I cannot speak English.

At the weekend

They were changing the hats at Weasel Gummidge
Ba-dum, dum, dumpity dum
Christopher Robin was having a rummage
Ba-dum, dum, dumpity dum
My mother was running about in a flap
Had lost both her shoes and my dad lost his cap
My brother went awol, my sis overslept
The dog turned transparent and my cat sat and wept
We flew in the bat car
I lost all my hair
We turned across country
And ran over a bear.

Finally we got to Weasel Gummidge
Ba-dum, dum, dumpity dum
After turning left at Castle Bromwich
Ba-dum, dum, dumpity dum

Out came the Queen
With a dignified air

And carefully spoke
To the crowd gathered there

"My eyes are like lasers
My joints are high-tech
My head's made of silicon
On an electronic neck
My robot and I
Are frightfully pleased
That you came out to see us -
NOW DOWN ON YOUR KNEES!"

Now we live under a cyborg empire
Ba-dum, dum, dumpity dum
1-110-010-110-001-101-1-000
Ba-dum, dum, dumpity dum

Jamiebgoode is on holiday

(gone to sit in a hole in Lincolnshire for 2 weeks)

Bored

Bored
Bored
Bored
Bored
Bored!

When will something interesting happen?

Good morning.

I was awoken from deep sleep like a newborn baby, pink, squashy and grumpy. I had been dreaming a lot, and was rather annoyed to be dragged back into the grey light of the morning. From the dream fragments I still grasped as I awoke, I remembered that I had been constructing some sort of spoof TV listings, with humorous and satirical comments about the various programmes. I think I was laughing in my sleep.

Perhaps I will start keeping a notebook and pen next to my bed so I can catch any ideas before they fade in the light. This is assuming, of course, that my unconscious self is actually interesting or funny. It could well have been nonsense, like those bizarre conversations you can find yourself having with a sleep-talker.

New day, new you

Things have not been easy recently.
I decided to do some serious soul searching.
I used Google, and ended up buying three Wilson Pickett albums.

Poetry

Apparently 4,500,000% of internet traffic is spam emails. As email filters improve, the spammers have to get cleverer with their messages to make sure they get through. One way of doing this is by including random text copied from a variety of sources, to make the email appear genuine to any automatic filters. I believe there is a potential for a whole new genre of poetic literature to emerge from this practice. Just look at this one I received in my work inbox today. I was moved.


The ordinary, wide scene which begins
snoozing. A schoolgirl on vacation gapes,
Of meaning like these—the world created by
shortcake, waffles, berries and cream
More beautiful than anything in this world.
Green lilac buds appear that won't survive
Beneath a pile of corpses, lying massed
And beyond, the same sound of bees
Centimeters—that the height of the canvas
Out of the road into a way across
He is harsh, dismal, ice—that is, exiled;
What can we know of whatever picture-plane
VI. Smeerenburg and the Whale-Oil Rush
Grateful, I know, for just such compensations,
Again awaken from your being gone to find
To follow in the path of their brief blossoming
The earth beneath his feet, in its dark cape,
Covering the land—
Of meaning like these—the world created

Busey

I came back from Wales, mildly refreshed and slightly damp. Back at work again. Ho-hum.
Can you imagine my surprise, however, when on my return to the office I discovered that I was working with Gary Busey!
I was on my way to the gents to pay my respects to Mr Crapper when there Busey was, strolling out of a cubicle. I believe he works in Finance.

Wales

I am going to Wales this weekend.

Wales. A beautiful country. A land of song, of coal mining, of passionate poetry and belligerent nationalism. Where men are men, and women also wear trousers. Where rugged coastlines meet the violent Irish Sea, where drizzle-soaked hills are dotted with soggy sheep that nick your ice cream if you're not careful.

Ah, Wales. Land of my fathers. Or my father, anyway.

He left at the age of 21 and moved to Streatham, which was considered a step up.

Dark days

Ooh, it's very dark.
Very dark I said, Maureen.
VERY DARK. BECAUSE OF THE CLOUDS.
Yes, that's right.
And wet.
I SAID, WET.

NO, IT'S WET!

A rap about soap

Splish and a splash
I was taking a bath
In some soft Welsh water
Shipped in from Penarth
There was a noise
And a flash
And out jumped the pope
He knocked over my toothbrush
And pounced on my soap
I said, 'Hey, your holiness,
How can you do this?
Can't you go back to Rome
And mind your own business?'
He said, 'Sorry my son,
I must make sure it's blessed,
I have information this soap is possessed.'
And with a prayer and a flash he just disappeared
Leaving me soapless and still dirty-eared.
Now I always use holy soap,
When I can get it
And I'll stay well away from bedevilled cosmetics.

Rain again, rain again, rain again, rain!

As is the case for many hip modern urbanites, my life seems to consist of long periods of boredom and self-loathing punctuated by brief bursts of frenetic, often booze-fuelled, activity.
In the listless moments in between, I find myself asking questions, like
Why does beauty make you cry?
Should ugliness make you laugh?
What would it be like to be someone else?
Is music the most profound art form?
Where can I get really good fish and chips?
The beginning of the week encourages this sort of enquiry. I think I'll go outside and stand in the rain for a while to cool my philosophical cockles.

What's for dinner, beatch?

Rain, rain, go away

Come again when something happens that rhymes with 'rain'.

Likewise snow, snow, please just go...

What is the internet for?

Things like this, I suppose.

http://hughgrantsquidtest.blogspot.com/

Bus journey

I was on the bus a couple of days ago, staring out of the window as we chugged slowly down the high street in the haze of a humid early summer afternoon, when I realised I was surrounded by elves. They were all dressed in black, and spoke an elvish language, and one of them was listening to elvish music. These were not Tolkeinesque elves; they were much earthier, more like a common or garden variety of elf. Perhaps they were pixies. One of them was blowing pink bubbles from its mouth.
Then I realised they were schoolchildren.
I cycle to work now.

What is it?

Eck, eck, eck.

Grrrrrrrrrr.

Office fashion

Perhaps it's just me, but I'm sure the dress code in my office has gradually become more casual over the last few months. People in my team would normally dress fairly smartly, but I've noticed that sometimes these days the man opposite barely even brushes his hair, or shaves his chin. I took a picture of him on my webcam. I don't think he noticed.

>>>Latest results just in...

Dudley Inferno 1 - Torquay Dental Clinic 0
Westminster Death Squad 2 - Stanley Giblets 1
Orpington Stranglers 3 - Worksop Popsocks 0
Leicester Hovel 1 - Newcastle Strewth 1
Angel of the North vs Godzilla 1st Eleven postponed due to rodent infestation

Musical discoveries

I have trawled the company shared files for music. Unfortunately a lot of it is copyright protected.
Of the music that isn't, I listened to one band that sounded like funky jive metal performed by the Addams family.
I am now listening to an album that appears to star a turkish classical orchestra accompanied by mid-nineties techno, sometimes dark breakbeat, sometimes heavy metal.
And there is a lot of Christian Rock.
I wonder if I have met the colleagues who uploaded these tracks.

Cumbrian Toponymy

I was in the Lake District for a short break last weekend. It's a beautiful part of the world, and also historically interesting.

I was fascinated by the survival of traces of old English and old Welsh (or 'Cumbric') in the local dialect. One example is the old method of counting sheep, still remembered by many older inhabitants in Cumbria, Yorkshire and Northumberland: "Yan, tan, tether, mether, pip...". Music fans might recognise these peculiar numerals from the chorus of the sad but lovely song Old Molly Metcalfe by English chanson singer Jake Thackray.

It's also a part of the country with some very interesting place names, reflecting the rich cultural inheritance of the area - Celtic, Anglo-Saxon, Irish, Viking, Scot. I didn't manage quite as much hillwalking as would have been good for me, but I thought it might be edifying to look up the ten highest peaks in the Lake District. For general information, here they are, in ascending order of height:

Scarface Pike
Trumpton Pike
Grange Hill
Big Egg
Little Egg
Adolf Pike
Cuthbert's Knob
Furby Knoll
Craig David
Wazzock

Postscript: a friend visited the Lake District the following weekend. He told me: "I've climbed Craig David. I got there on Monday, set off on Tuesday, reached the top on Wednesday..."

Andy Cabic Interview

I was recently interviewed by Nick Forshaw of internet music magazine Twisted Ear, who was under the mistaken belief that I was Andy Cabic of the band Vetiver. I am not sure how his email arrived in my inbox, but on impulse I decided to oblige him nonetheless.
-----Original Message-----From: nick forshaw
JAMIE CABBAGE
Hello Jamie – it is a pleasure to be interviewing you, even if it is in this strange and stilted format. Hope you are well, and feeling splendid. Spring has come with a lot of sunshine here in the UK, so everyone’s feeling pretty fruity.
Here come those questions….
Where are you right now and what time is it?
[James] At work. It is just after lunch time.
What’s the best way of keeping a beard in check whilst on the road? Or should one just let the hair fall as it may?
[James] Face sheep. Tiny sheep that gently graze while you sleep.
If the Zero Degrees of Separation musicians were Sesame Street characters, who would be who? Would Adem be Elmo?
[James] Yes, he would. I would be Big Bird. I've always wanted to be a big bird
Did you ever secretly experiment with Juana Molina’s magical sound machines whilst she was not looking? Were the results what you expected?
[James] Yes, she enjoyed it, I think
What’s the most impossible meal you have ever had to eat?
[James] Invisible odourless spaghetti
What was the first R rated movie you ever saw?
[James] Roger Rabbit
Can you tell us a little bit about the arboretum? And who was Dwight?
[James] It was Reg Dwight, of Elton John and the Eltones. We used to run a plant nursery together during the 1920s. One day he discovered a piano under an old Berberis Darwinii, and started knocking out a few tunes. The rest, as they say, is historical.
If you had to cancel out any season which one would it be and why?
[James] Salt, definitely
What is harder – to make someone laugh or to make someone dance?
[James] I can make someone laugh by dancing at them.
If you could have prevented any invention in the whole of human history, which would it have been and why?
[James] Wheelbarrows. They freak me out.
Who’s the most exciting artist (musical or otherwise) in the world right now?
[James] Prince Philip..?
What’s your favourite smell?
[James] I like the way cats smell like hotdogs when you get close up.
What’s the worst song you have had to endure in the past 12 months?
[James] Happy Birthday, Mr President, by Marilyn Monroe, over and over again. I haven't even had a birthday yet.
Are you a Batman kinda guy or a Superman kinda guy and why?
[James] Batman. Like him, I have a really useful belt.
What’s your favourite chord change?
[James] A to B. it always kind of gets you where you want to go
What’s the ugliest animal in the world?
[James] Janet Street Porter.
Did you ever want to be anything other than a musician?
[James] A policeman. No, a motorbike man. No, a policeman.
Are there any magical secret artists that Gnomonsong are planning to bring forth to the world that we should be getting excited about?
[James] Recent signings: Lionbread; the Beast of Roger Moore; Vivisectionista
Are there any secret Vetiver developments that you are getting excited about?
[James] Within 6 months we will have full nuclear capability
What’s the worst thing that has been discarded by human history and do you think we could get it back?
[James] No
How are you feeling right now?
[James] I feel like lichen tonight
Thanks for taking the time to do this, hope everything is lovely with you and your kith and kin,
Nick
[James] My pleasure, Nick. If that is your real name.

How it all began

We were very poor when I was growing up. It was difficult finding enough to get by. One day, I was going to the market to sell our only cow. On the way there I met a man who said he would give me some magic beans for it. So I gave him the cow, and went back home with the magic beans.
When I got back to the house my mother asked me how much I got for the cow, and I said I didn’t get any money, instead I have these magic beans. My mother was mad at me and said how can we buy food without any money? And I said, well, we can eat the beans. So we had the magic beans on some toast, and then I did a magic fart.

Plinky plinky plinky

I must have made a typographical error while searching for this unusually named old schoolmate.
Google suggested:
Did you mean: plinky plonky plinky
Yes, of course I did, Google. Well spotted.

Wooden leg

I've got a WOODEN LEG.
And it's not in my trousers.

Collective Nouns

I was reading in the generic newspaper the other day that the Uxbridge English Dictionary has updated its list of collective nouns. Here are some of the new ones:

A jereboam of fat look-alikes
A ring of paediatricians
A collision of egos
An incomprehensible shouting of tramps
A Michael of portaloos
A council of chieves
A booty of bottoms
A tray of rhinos
A beard of bees
A hill of fools
A liking of potatoes

Jamie is on holiday

Daydreams

I was walking past the desk of a colleague who had gone to the toilet.

He had been making notes while on the net.

Batman

Since the first palaeolithic shaman daubed ochre on a cave wall in the flickering firelight, humans have striven to express their understanding of the world in ever more beautiful ways.
For me, the height of human cultural endeavour to date, building on millenia of musical and visual artistic development, is this (nb requires sound).

Humour

The ancients believed that there were four humours. These were slapstick, sexual innuendo, surrealism and spoof.
These days, of course, we know otherwise.

No more potatoes!

Curse the day some codpiece-wearing Elizabethan first set eyes on a potato on the dinner table of a bored Amerindian and thought, 'That's an exciting tuber'. It's an excuse, a sham, a fake food. What is it for, with its high glycaemic index and lack of any real flavour?
CHIPS. But other than chips?

Last Friday I had fish and chips from the staff canteen. Yum. Except it wasn't fish, it was fishcakes. Fair enough. Big, chunky, home-made (but who calls the staff canteen 'home'?) fishcakes. And maybe some chips. And I wanted some vegetables. Mushy peas were the closest thing available. OK.
So I tucked in. The fish cake was about 98% potato, with three or four slivers of fish to give it a slight fishy tang. The chips were chips. I would not expect anything but that they were largely potato-based. The mushy peas were mostly potato starch, with a few squashed peas and some green food colouring.
Thus I had consciously purchased a dinner of three types of potato. Potato supreme.
Needless to say, I was nonplussed. Then shameful. Then rather uncomfortably full for two hours. It almost put me off my Guinness that evening.

I was interested and delighted to discover that the potato can be poisonous . I was also interested to see that the same article on Wikipedia, at time of writing, is illustrated by a picture of a large tomato called 'pikachu'.
You live and you learn.

Raining

It's raining again. That light grey drizzle that suits London so well. Coming down over the whole city, making the streets shiny (but close up they are dirty water, and grit).
Inside, in the dry, I am staring at the computer with little piggy eyes that are tired from having a few too many beers last night. Three and a half hours until I can leave. I've had a sandwich, but I had it early, so I will be hungry again in a couple of hours when there's nothing left in the staff canteen except egg mayonnaise. There's always egg mayonnaise.
I need more brown liquid from the tea/coffee machine (no.52, strong, no sugar).
I'm not sure how long the alcohol and caffeine can keep me suspended.

In the office

I work in an office. Like many people who work in offices, I lack spiritual fulfilment.

I would heartily recommend the album Gulag Orkestar by Beirut. I find myself moved every time by the plaintive voice of NY troubadour Zach Condon accompanied by a roustabout Balkan-style orchestra. I am not a music journalist.
It has joined my top five favourite albums. I will post the other four when I know what they are.
That should be accolade enough. If not, you can listen to it on iTunes or here. There are also some videos on Youtube but the quality is terrible. Just buy it.

When the revolution comes I will send a copy to every household in the country.

London - facts and figures

London is a big place, so there are lots of facts about it. That's a fact.
Here are five things about London, but there's a red herring, as one of them is made up. Can you guess which one?

1. London was named after Jack London, who starred in 'Dances with Wolves'.

2. London has more downward staircases than any other European city.

3. Oxford Street originally led to Oxford, which until the 17th Century was situated on the Hammersmith & City Line near Shepherd's Bush. During the Civil War it was moved north by Charles the First using a system of levers and log rollers, and it became the Royalist capital in the centre of the country (near Swindon).

4. Archaeological evidence suggests that humans evolved in London 400,000 years ago, and then moved to Africa because the weather was more clement.

5. In is possible to buy a comfortable flat in Zone 2 for less than the fee charged by a Covent Garden Rickshaw to go 300 metres.

Did you guess?

Here are some other facts about London, courtesy of George Boole*:

1) London is named after the transition metal Londinium (atomic number 74), whose name is derived from the Greek Londis, meaning "small merchant's abode, around which groups of youths are congregated"

2) Hitler's Luftwaffe famously avoided bombing South London during the second world war, the führer stating "Nicht worztsen sie bist" - "it's not worth it"

3) Londoner's anthem "Knees up Mother Brown" was written in 1992 by the famous cockney Damon Albarn

4) London's celebrated "homeless" people have their origins in a 1984 recruitment campaign, headed by the famous anti-paedophile campaigner Esther Rantzen, designed to recruit people to distribute the popular magazine "The Big Issue"

5) The legendary McDonald's chain of burger restaurants grew from the ideas of one Malcolm McDonald, of the scottish McDonald clan, who in London in 1884 first had the idea of placing a dog turd between two pieces of bread.

*(I have been unable to ascertain whether this is the actual nineteenth century mathematician or simply a nom de plume of some anonymous blogger)

At work

I'm so tired...I think I probably...

I could...

I could probably fall asleep...right here...

at the photocopier...

Blogs

Why do we blog?
It is like shouting into the dark.
Perhaps one day someone will answer.
But it will still be dark.

London

Peter Ackroyd likened London to a human body, an organism, with a pulsing heart, a head, a body, filled with energy and life, that changes and grows through the years and the centuries.
I think of it as more like a puddle, or an egg.

History

I thought it would be useful to tell you a bit about myself.
I run a stall down on Surrey Street market. We sell various things. My Ma and Da started it as a shop, with just some peas and some cogs. They got shut down by the police, but they tried again, this time starting up a business fixing mechanical elephants. The business did well, and they expanded into the shop next door, which had sold automatons of famous people. Unfortunately, my father's alcoholism got the better of him, and he floated away in a cloud of brown goo.
My mother did her best to keep things together, but in the absence of glue it all started to go awry. Awry. Eventually she ran off to join a gunnery. I and my brothers and sisters were left to fend for ourselves. Through a mixture of thievery, bastardised versions of exotic cuisine and bloody mindedness we managed it, running the shop, looking after the younger siblings, keeping an eye out for each other, and we got by.
Then everyone except me died.
And that's how I got where I am today.

This wasn't my idea.

Nonetheless, an opportunity.