My Only Friend Through Teenage Nights…

I don’t much like the Economist… its not that their analysis is flawed, nor that its not informative, its world class in these respects, but the smug tones in which it is written. Too often I read “The Economist believes” in such and such, or “The Economist welcomes” the move by the Bank of England or wherever…  as if the magazine is somehow a revered font of all knowledge to be paid tribute and courted. These really are minor quibbles in comparison to the wealth of information and good writing between its pages, but it irks me none the less.

Tim Myatt was well pleased therefore (two can play this game!) when they launched Intelligent Life. It’s a quarterly publication, thicker and more, well, ‘lifestyle,’ than its weekly sibling. Here is a link to its website.

So, why am I telling you about this? I was snatched by an article about Test Match Special… the BBC’s utterly bonkers, bewildering, unashamedly Public School, but sublimely brilliant live cricket commentary. I have been an avid fan for all my adult life; listening to the likes of Aggers, Blowers, Jonners and the boys (usually retired ex-cricketers… and boys is a far from accurate description…) discussing pork pies, the number 42  bus, the ‘turn of the pitch,’ the slope at Lords, and other meandering waffle while the rain hammers down on the English summer.

'Blowers' and 'Sir Geoffrey' enjoy a glass after a hard day rambling.

I was even lucky enough to have the success of my DPhil viva announced on air, and on the website for the text commentary. As chance would have it, the morning after my viva the rain abated, and England were flaying a bedraggled Sri Lankan attack all over a sunny day five at Lords. During the morning preamble Tom Fordyce, the online text commentator, suggested that Kevin Pietersen could “Perhaps draw inspiration from the story of Francis Younghusband. As a young man, Youngers was the classic soldier of the Empire – crossing Gobi desert, fighting in the Boer War and part of the first British expedition to the Dalai Lama’s court in Tibet. Fast forward a few years and he had changed his name to Svabhava, “follower of The Gleam”, become a prophet of free love and penned a book entitled “Life On The Stars: an Exposition of the View That On Some Planets Of Some Stars Exist Beings Higher Than Ourselves, And On One A World Leader, The Supreme Embodiment Of The Spiritual Leader, Which Animates the Whole.””

This sparked a who days debate about Younghusband and his possible skills as a batsman, the ethics of empire, the Mission to Tibet, and the suggestion that we could not “rule out him inventing an early version of T20, played with a burning ball of fire.” I emailed in, and got a special mention of my thesis and my viva. I think I must be one of the only doctoral candidates to have their viva results announced by the BBC on live commentary… you can follow this link or find me here on the archived website: http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/cricket/england/9506208.stm

Francis Younghusband. With trademark Walrus tash.

So, back to Intelligent Life. It seems that our friends across the pond can now access the TMS commentary, and find it as entertaining as me… David Thomson the author of the article, succumbs to waves of nostalgia as the semi-sporting ramblings are transmitted across the Atlantic. The article is here.

You too can follow it on Five Live Sports Extra, 198 Longwave, or on the BBC’s Website. The final test against India kicks off tomorrow. I can’t wait!

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A Titanic Dinner

A good friend of mine, Paddy Belton, decided to host a quiet dinner party last weekend. Having been ripped off by some bandits over renting a small Edwardian pile in Hamstead (complete with imaginary sauna and swimming pool) it was kindly hosted by friends in Blackheath of the good ship RMS Carpathia.

RMS Titanic slips Belfast

The menu followed exactly the ten course offerings of the First Class Dining Room on the White Star Line’s flagship for the fateful night of the 14th of April 1912. The menu is reproduced below. Highlights included Roast Squab (think baby widgeon) the much anticipated Asparagus course, and enough booze… well to sink a ship. The tragic events of the night (1513 people died if you need reminding) have become the stuff of legend, and accounts and myth surrounds the ship. Little wonder however that so many of the first class passengers did not survive… I could hardly move!

The RMS Carpathia, the ship that picked up survivors of the Titanic disaster, also suffered a disastrous fate. When the ship docked in New York thousands came to welcome her, and the Captain was given the Congressional Gold Medal. I think Roger and Chloe who offered their flat at the last minute deserve no lesser recognition after Paddy’s misfortune with the pirates… anyhow Carpathia was used to transfer American troops to Europe during the war, but was torpedoed in the Celtic Sea by U-Boat 55.  As Carpathia began to sink by the bow, Captain William Prothero gave the orders to abandon ship. All 57 passengers and 218 surviving crew members boarded the lifeboats… The Submarine surfaced and fired a third torpedo into the ship and was approaching the lifeboats when the terror of the seas, HMS Snowdrop (where do they get these names?), arrived on the scene and drove away the submarine with gunfire then picked up the survivors from the Carpathia.

Dining Room of the RMS Olympic

One interesting (if you find these things interesting) snippet of information, the original First Class Dining Room of the Titanic’s sister ship, the RMS Olympic, can still be found. (The photo of the room here is actually of the Olympic as I can’t find one of the Titanic.) After a long and eventful life on the seas as the largest passenger liner in the world, Olympic was requisitioned during World War I and served as a troop ship under the delightfully named Captain Herbert James Haddock. When Cunard merged with White Star Line she was decommissioned in 1935 and sold as scrap. Her fixtures and fittings were auctioned off before she was scrapped at T.W. Ward’s Yard in Inverkeihing, and I am reliably informed that most of the First Class Lounge, along with cutlery and crockery and part of the Grand Staircase, can be found in the White Swan Hotel in Alnwick. Confirmation of this, or volunteers for a loon trip ‘tup north are welcome!

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Freedom of the City

Having joined the Guild of Mercer’s Scholars last year I was invited to attend a ceremony at the Chamberlain’s Court at  the Guildhall to be given the Freedom of the City of London. The whole thing was frankly ridiculous, but enormous fun, complete with men in gowns (just back from a “jolly good lunch”) silly hats, much swearing to (note not at) the Queen, and a swanky new certificate to show that I can not invest my time productively by driving sheep about and wearing a sword in public etc.

My Freedom comes in a long line: It is believed that the first Freedom was presented in 1237, and the medieval term ‘freeman’ meant someone who was not the property of a feudal lord, but enjoyed privileges such as the right to earn money and own land. So now all I need to do is earn money and own land… a good start.

I had to swear all manner of things including that, “I do solemnly swear that I will be good and true to our Sovereign Lady Queen Elizabeth the Second; that I will be obedient to the Mayor of this City; that I will maintain the Franchises and Customs thereof, and will keep this City harmless, in that which in me is; that I will also keep the Queen’s Peace in my own person; that I will know no Gatherings nor Conspiracies made against the Queen’s Peace, but I will warn the Mayor thereof, or hinder it to my power; and that all these points and articles I will well and truly keep, according to the Laws and Customs of this City, to my power.”

Last month I was ‘bound’ to my new apprentice. Jack is presumably waiting for his A-Level results at Peter Symonds College in Winchester, and we had a good chat about university entrance and what he wants to do next. He wants to read law at Exeter, about which I know very little, but it seems like a good idea to have a ‘master’ (i.e. me!) to ask all sorts of questions of and to tap up for dinner occasionally. I guess its a sort of medieval peer support network! With silly hats and certificates…

 

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People are like stained glass windows…

I used to live in this building when I was an undergraduate at St Anne’s. My first year room was so small I could touch all four walls without moving my feet, and my wardrobe was in the girl next door’s room (which at least game me a chance to talk to her…) My final year room was one of those enormous Victorian parlour rooms with a fireplace, ceilings like a cathedral, and arcitraving a foot deep… any how, this glass formed the front door.

When I walk home from the Rose & Crown (or Rosencrantz and Guildenstern as Pete calls it) on North Parade I pass this window, and it remind me of the good time I had in there and the people I met. Many are still good friends now. Its not the most beautiful glass, and I have never worked out what they are all staring at, but it reminds my of the quote from Elizabeth Maher-Ross. “People are like stained glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within.” It makes me smile. But then again maybe thats the beer.


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Not your usual bank branch…

Yesterday I had to go to one of our banking clients’ St James’ headquarters for a meeting. Slap bang opposite the Palace sits the [censored] Banking Corporation’s majestic Private Clients Bank. Apparently you need a cool £5,000,000 to even get an invite there, but I was there for a work meeting, so was even allowed to use the lavatory!

Obviously built to impress and show wealth, the rather gaudy old central lobby is well offset against the modern new wing behind where I took the photograph from… the Bank seem to have a fascination with grandfather clocks that are in abundance, and overly zen looking orchids, while the carpets were so deep you were given wellies to plough your way to the offices…

If only Barclays on Cornmarket Street was like this…

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Pitt Rivers’ Caravan…

Augustus Henry Lane Fox Pitt Rivers was an army officer, ethnologist, and archeologist and magpie. He was noted for his innovations in archaeological methods, and in the museum display of archaeological and ethnological collections. He also collected stuff on an Imperial scale. His collections now form the core of the Pitt Rivers Museum… one of my favourite places in the whole world… anyway… his collecting caravan that he had dragged across the globe used to be stored in the garden of the Human Sciences Centre, but now has appeared as the ticket kiosk of the University’s Arboretum… itself well worth a look. The nice ticket lady thought I was bonkers, but did let me take a photo…

Do check out both the Pitt Rivers Museum and the University Arboretum.

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Tibetan Lobsters

This is a genius article sent to me by a dear friend… its total nonsense of course, but a touching gesture! “Instead of plunging headfirst to their death in a pot of boiling water, 534 live lobsters escaped the dinner plate and belly flopped to freedom into the dark waters of the Atlantic Ocean.” This sort of thing can only happen in the US surely? And l love the www. address… it ends with “usoddlyenough” … need I say more!

Follow this Lobsters link!

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I’m Running the Blenheim Half Marathon

You are probably here because I have pestered you into sponsoring me, or you have met me in a pub and I have written this web address on your arm. Either way; Thanks for getting this far!

Bascially I am running for three main reasons. Firstly, The British Heart Foundation are amazing people, helping to keep us fit and healthy, caring for us when we are less so, and researching why things go wrong. And things often go wrong. Research and care cost a staggering amount of money, so while I still can, I am going to get off my arse and help them fundraise.

The second reason is that like I said, things often go wrong. Life can deal us horrible blows; and hearts are fragile things. Most of us, almost without exception, will know and love someone who has, or will develop, heart problems. My own family, and many that I care for are no different. So are yours. I guess that anything I can do to help the British Heart Foundation must therefore be a good thing.

And finally, and personally, hearts get broken. Perhaps this is my way of mending one. (Please feel free ignore this last bit..)

So, down to the nitty gritty, donating through JustGiving is simple, fast and totally secure. Your details are safe with JustGiving – they’ll never sell them on or send unwanted emails. Once you donate, they’ll send your money directly to the charity and make sure Gift Aid is reclaimed on every eligible donation by a UK taxpayer.

I know things are tight for everyone right now, but if the idea of me trying to run round a muddy field in the rain makes you smile, cough up your cash! And, “thank you.” From the bottom of my heart, and that of the British Heart Foundation.

http://www.justgiving.com/Tim-RunForrest-Myatt

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Dalai Lama and Exile

Dalai Lama\’s exile challenge for Tibetans

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Soft Power and the BBC

Soft Power

Edward Leigh MP warns that BBC World Service cuts may give Iran and China opportunity for soft power dominance… these concepts are discussed in chapter seven of my thesis, and in this case Leigh is spot on!

 

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