Facebook…Meh…

Many thanks to Cookie for inspiration for this one… When Facebook’s much vaunted stock market debut finally arrived on the 18th of May this year, it was marred by technical glitches at its home exchange in the US, the Nasdaq. After a great deal of anticipation, rock and roll celebrate endorsements and razzmatazz , repeated SEC filings and re-filings, shares were finally priced at $38 each..

Initially at least, trading was fast and intense, with 80 million shares changing hands in the first 30 seconds alone. But soon, some traders began complaining that it didn’t seem like their orders were being completed. Others found that they were getting shares at a higher price than they expected. Now, following  months of legal wrangling, and claims against JP Morgan relating to the IPO, there have been claims alleging that important information about Facebook’s financial outlook was “selectively disclosed” to big banks ahead of the IPO.

So, from a non technical perspective, it was a total balls up, people were possibly cheated, and those who did cheat, didn’t even have the good grace to do it well.

 

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Lawrence of Arabia and the Brough Superior

I know a few of you are Lawrence of Arabia fans, and I am sure most of you know of my obsession with the man and the legend.

I receive automatic emails from various auction houses whenever any Lawrence related tat comes up for sale (yes, I am that sad) and received the latest one only yesterday. A sale of autographs in Hayes, Middlesex is offering a cheque made out by Lawrence to Martins Bank Limited and made payable to Mr. George Brough for the sum of £11-3-0., and caught my eye.

First, the bad news. It’s valued at between £600 – £800, placing it firmly out of my league, and it is only a piece of paper. You can bid on the auction here.

However, interestingly the cheque is signed ‘ J H Ross.’ Lawrence was a total recluse; he flirted with notoriety and fame, but found it painful and shameful. In order to rid himself from the American journalist Lowell Thomas’s colourful and romantic depictions of ‘Lawrence of Arabia, Lawrence enlisted in the Royal Air Force as an aircraft man in August 1922 under the name John Hume Ross, at RAF Uxbridge. He was soon exposed and, in February 1923, was forced out of the RAF. He changed his name to T. E. Shaw and joined the Royal Tank Corps in 1923. He was unhappy there and repeatedly petitioned to rejoin the RAF, which finally readmitted him in August 1925.

Throughout his life Lawrence was a keen motorcyclist, and, at different times, owned eight Brough Superior motorcycles. These beasts (and look them up… they are beautiful monsters) were either provided to Lawrence by George Brough, or he purchased them at a reduced price in a sort of early celebrity endorsement. (It is possible that the cheque carries a red ink bank cancellation through the signature as it was rejected by Brough.)

The date on the cheque is 11th June 1929, and as any TEL fan will tell you, this was the year that he purchased the bike that he called George VI (UL 656), it was his seventh Brough. A Brough typically cost about £150 new (more than an average sized house in those days) so this was either a part payment, or a token sum for the machine. Inicidentaly, Brough only produced 139 bikes in that year, but was already flirting with the idea of manufacturing cars as well as bikes. This cheque would have been for the SS100 (Super Sports), powered by the twin-cam KTOR JAP V twin (J. A. Prestwich of Tottenham) These were fast bits of kit; in 1927 George Brough achieved a record 130 mph on the SS100 and in 1928 Brough broke his own record with 130.6 mph. In 1932 Ronald Storey achieved 81,08 for the standing half-mile at Brighton, and in 1939 Noel Pope secured an all time Brooklands track record lap time of 124.51 mph on an SS100.

But it was all to end in tragedy. At the age of 46, two months after leaving the Army, Lawrence was fatally injured in an accident on his eight Brough in Dorset, close to his cottage, Clouds Hill, near Wareham. A dip in the road obstructed his view of two boys on their bicycles; he swerved to avoid them, lost control and was thrown over the handlebars. He died six days later on 19 May 1935. His final Brough is still preserved in the Imperial War Museum.

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‘The Gherkin’ to become ‘The Penguin’

I have just come across the most fantastic news story… I think it might be a bit of a publicity stunt, but the concept is just wonderful… apparently, and at least according to The Zoological Society of London (who happen to own London Zoo), there are plans to transform the City’s iconic Gherkin building to ‘The Penguin’.

In a bid to ensure that Londoners and those visiting for the Games dont miss out on the chance to visit London Zoo’s Humbolt Penguins, The ZSL have commissioned a production team to draw up a dramatic redesign of the famed skyscraper. You can read more about this here.

The images, revealed today, show London’s landmarks eclipsed by an enormous Humboldt penguin.

And for those of you Oxford based with Penguin obsession, you dont even have to go to London. The deliciously bonkers Cotswold Wildlife Park (think stately home with a Rhino wandering about the front lawn and find it here) have a collection of adorable penguins! You can even watch them being fed (at 11.00am and 16.00pm (15.00pm in winter months).). The best bit about these happy chaps is that you dont even have to leave the privacy of your own home thanks to their clever webcam tingymabob… And please don’t forget to say hello to the one who answers to the name of Pontius. He belongs to my mother…

However, don’t forget to afford them some privacy… despite Penguins remaining faithful to one partner and also return to the same breeding site year after year, they also have some pretty weird (well at least by Edwardian standards) habits and predilections: Accounts of unusual sexual activities among penguins, observed a century ago by a member of Captain Scott’s polar team, have just been made public. Acts that Dr Levick considered “depraved” were recorded during Scott’s ill-fated Terra Nova expedition to the South Pole in 1910. You can follow this story here.

Levick was obviously a loony himself (nothwishstanding his desire to spend years in a frozen wasteland watching penguins…) he then decided, in his infinite wisdom, to record their “perverted” activities in Greek in his notebook. Obviously Penguins don’t read Greek.

Let’s just hope the new Penguin Tower does not try to mate with The Shard… that would be painful.

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This never happens in the real world

Image

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Kevin the Tuna Sandwich

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Looks like someone left the landing light on…

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Queen or Teapot? Spot the difference.

This will possibly get me hung for treason, but can you spot the difference between the photos below?

One is our Gracious Monarch, Queen Elizabeth II, on a visit this morning to in Enniskillen, Northern Ireland as part of her Diamond Jubilee Celebrations (where importantly she shook hands with former IRA leader and NI’s Deputy First Minister Martin McGuinness for the first time, an act unthinkable throughout much of her reign) and the other is a teapot. Well to be precise it’s a Wedgewood Jasperwear Coffeepot, but that’s just splitting heirs (!). But can you spot the difference?

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The Shakespearean hokey cokey

While the origins of this famous and popular (and rubbish) ‘dance’ have long been disputed between Canadians (who for some odd reason call the song the Hokey Pokey… but then again they are kinda strange, egh?…) Europeans, and our American friends (who naturally have the most outlandish claim…) this newly uncovered evidence leads to the undisputed conclusion that it was the great bard himself who penned the ditty between sonnets and plays. You can see from the style of this original that there can be no question of its authenticity.

Our learned frined Wikipedia provides the following for amusement…

“According to one account, in 1940, during the Blitz in London, a Canadian officer suggested to Al Tabor, a British bandleader of the 1920s, that he write a party song with actions similar to “Under the Spreading Chestnut Tree”. The inspiration for the song’s title that resulted, “The Hokey Pokey”, came from an ice cream vendor whom Tabor had heard as a boy, calling out, “Hokey pokey penny a lump. Have a lick make you jump”. So its all entirely innocent, if full of dubious innuendo…

In a more animated account in about 1870’s Robert Wright wrote of the “gang” in Dodge City, Kansas using “hokey-pokey” which was actually bisulphite of carbon. It was administered as a bad joke to “any animal with hair, it has a wonderful effect. For the time being, the animal just went crazy…”. While perhaps not the origin of the word, this certainly accounts for perhaps some words to the dance “shake it all about”.

And perhaps the best (well more bizarre even than a bisulphite of carbon theory) was proposed by the Anglican Canon Matthew Damon, Provost of Wakefield Cathedral, in God’s own County of  Yorkshire, who claimed that the dance as well comes from the Catholic Latin mass. Obviously… The priest would perform his movements with his back to the congregation, who could not hear well the words, nor understand the Latin, nor clearly see his movements.

So there you have it. More things you never thought you wished, or needed to know. And now know that you didn’t.

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Anarchy in the UK

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Bunga Bunga! Archbishops and Archpranksters

There are few things in life more satisfying than when a really good prank comes off… one of those that require a little planning, brass, and normally take a gentle rise out of the pompous old guard. If you have not read it then The Spiritual Quest of Francis Wagstaffe of a masterpiece of this genre written by a dear friend of mine David Johnson (you might know him as the drunk vicar…)

Wagstaffe wrote to prominent people, mostly Anglican bishops, but also others including  Ted Hughes, Roy Jenkins, Cilla Black, Rocco Forte, Stella Rimington, and Melvyn Bragg as well as organisations including the Royal Air Force, the Royal Artillery, the BBC, British Rail, Madame Tussauds, the Victoria and Albert Museum, and the Russian Embassy. In each and every case these bastions of British society are fooled and ridiculed by Wagstaffe. 

In the earlier letters he poses as a purveyor of Cumberland sausages and former prep school proprietor who is seeking guidance on the Christian faith, and in the later letters he poses as His Grace the Most Reverend the Archbishop of the Old Northern Catholick Church of the East Riding Mar Francis II Metropolitan and Primate, Knight Grand Commander of the Order of Saint John of Beverly (1st Class).

The Spiritual Quest of Francis Wagstaffe supported St Peter’s Young Homeless Support Centre in Highfields, and is still available here on Amazon. If you want the book to hold its value, dont allow David to sign it… the unsigned editions are much rarer, and mercifully now beyond the edict of the Bishop of Northampton…

Anyway, where was I… Oh yes, pranks. I only discovered the infamous ‘Dreadnought hoax’ a few days ago, and it’s a real gem… the pride and top brass of the Royal Navy were taken in hook, line, and sinker by a certain  Horace de Vere Cole and some of his more famous friends of the Bloomsbury Group.

 The hoax was devoid by Cole who tricked the Royal Navy into showing their flagship, the warship HMS Dreadnought, to a supposed delegation of Abyssinian royals. It must be hard to imagine a battleship more impressive than The Dreadnought; Her entry into service in 1906 represented such a marked advance in naval technology that her name came to be associated with an entire generation of battleships, the “dreadnoughts”, as well as the class of ships named after her, while the generation of ships she made obsolete became known as “pre-dreadnoughts”. It was quite literally, and if you can forgive the pun, a ‘sea change’ in naval technology. She was the RN’s new darling, the pride of the fleet, as well as being the most awesome piece of technology on the planet.

All the more amazing was that Cole and five friends—writer Virginia Stephen (later Virginia Woolf), her brother Adrian Stephen, Guy Ridley, Anthony Buxton and artist Duncan Grant—who disguised themselves with skin darkeners and turbans, were welcomed abroad the mighty ship as visiting dignitaries.

On 7 February 1910 the hoax was set in motion. Cole organised for an accomplice to send a telegram to HMS Dreadnought which was then moored in Portland, Dorset. The message said that the ship must be prepared for the visit of a group of princes from Abyssinia and was purportedly signed by Foreign Office Under-secretary Sir Charles Hardinge.

Cole with his entourage went to Paddington station where Cole claimed that he was “Herbert Cholmondeley” of the UK Foreign Office and demanded a special train to Weymouth; the stationmaster arranged a VIP coach. In Weymouth, the navy welcomed the princes with an honour guard. However an Abyssinian flag could not be found. In a piece of marvellous logic the navy proceeded to use that of Zanzibar and to play Zanzibar’s national anthem. Oddly nobody objected, and the party was piped aboard the mightly warship. 

The group inspected the fleet. To show their appreciation, they communicated in a gibberish of words drawn from Latin and Greek; they asked for prayer mats and attempted to bestow fake military honours on some of the officers. An officer familiar with both Cole and Virginia Stephen failed to recognise either.

When the prank was uncovered in London, the ringleader Cole contacted the press and sent a photo of the “princes” to the Daily Mirror. The group’s pacifist views were considered a source of embarrassment, and the Royal Navy briefly became an object of ridicule. The Navy later demanded that Cole be arrested. However, Cole and his compatriots had not broken any law… just rather dented the pride of Him Majesty’s Royal Navy.

During the visit to Dreadnought, the visitors had repeatedly shown amazement or appreciation by exclaiming, “Bunga! Bunga!” When the real Emperor of Ethiopia, Menelik II, visited England some time later, he was chased by children shouting “Bunga! Bunga!”. Silvio Berlusconi would have be proud.

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